Бен Джонсон цитаты

Бен Джонсон фото
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Бен Джонсон

Дата рождения: 21. Июнь 1572
Дата смерти: 6. Август 1637

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Бе́нджамин Джо́нсон или Бен Джо́нсон — английский поэт, драматург, актёр, теоретик драмы.

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 Еврипид фото
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Цитаты Бен Джонсон

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„Drink to me only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup
And I'll not look for wine.“

—  Ben Jonson, To Celia
The Forest, Context: Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honoring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be. But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to me; Since when it grows and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee. Song, To Celia, lines 1-16; this poem was inspired by "Letter XXIV" of Philostratus, which in translation reads: "Drink to me with your eyes alone…. And if you will, take the cup to your lips and fill it with kisses, and give it so to me".

„Why should we defer our joys?
Fame and rumour are but toys.“

—  Ben Jonson, To Celia
The Forest, Context: Come my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever, He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns that set may rise again, But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night. Why should we defer our joys? Fame and rumour are but toys. Song, To Celia, lines 1-10. Compare Catullus, Carmina V

„In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandish'd at the eyes of ignorance.“

—  Ben Jonson
To the Memory of My Beloved, the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare (1618), Context: Yet must I not give nature all: thy art, My gentle Shakspeare, must enjoy a part. For though the poet's matter nature be, His art doth give the fashion. And that he Who casts to write a living line, must sweat, (Such as thine arc) and strike the second heat Upon the muses anvil; turn the fame, And himself with it, that he thinks to frame; Or for the laurel, he may gain a scorn, For a good poet's made, as well as born. And such wert thou. Look how the father's face Lives in his issue, even so the race Of Shakspeare's mind and manners brightly shines In his well-turned, and true filed lines: In each of which he seems to shake a lance, As brandish'd at the eyes of ignorance. Lines 55 - 70

„Thou art a monument, without a tomb,
And art alive still, while thy book doth live,
And we have wits to read, and praise to give.“

—  Ben Jonson, On Shakespeare
To the Memory of My Beloved, the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare (1618), Context: Soul of the age! The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage! My Shakespeare, rise; I will not lodge thee by Chaucer or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie A little further, to make thee a room; Thou art a monument, without a tomb, And art alive still, while thy book doth live, And we have wits to read, and praise to give. Lines 17 - 24; this was inspired by a eulogy by William Basse, On Shakespeare:

„He was not of an age, but for all time!“

—  Ben Jonson
To the Memory of My Beloved, the Author, Mr. William Shakespeare (1618), Context: Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show To whom all Scenes of Europe homage owe. He was not of an age, but for all time! And all the muses still were in their prime, When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm! Nature herself was proud of his designs, And joy'd to wear the dressing of his lines! Which were so richly spun, and woven so sit, As, since she will vouchsafe no other wit. Lines 41 - 50

„Come my Celia, let us prove,
While we can, the sports of love;
Time will not be ours forever,
He at length our good will sever.“

—  Ben Jonson, To Celia
The Forest, Context: Come my Celia, let us prove, While we can, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever, He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns that set may rise again, But if once we lose this light, 'Tis with us perpetual night. Why should we defer our joys? Fame and rumour are but toys. Song, To Celia, lines 1-10. Compare Catullus, Carmina V

„Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Etiam egestas wisi a erat. Morbi imperdiet, mauris ac auctor dictum.“

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