瓊森寫了18部戲劇，除兩部羅馬歷史悲劇《西亞努斯的覆滅》和《卡塔林的陰謀》之外，大都是社會諷刺喜劇。其劇作遵循古典主義原則，並有強烈的道德傾向。劇中對當時社會惡劣風習的尖銳批評曾使他兩次被捕入獄。壹次是因與T·納什合寫諷刺時事、現已佚失的《狗島》，此劇的演出還導致了倫敦劇場的暫時關閉 ； 另壹次是因與 C· 馬斯頓合寫《向東方去》 ，劇中批評了詹姆斯壹世的政治 。1598年的《人人高興》 和1599 年的 《人人掃興》 是瓊森根據氣質論( 中世紀所謂4種不同氣質產生不同性格的生理學學說 )創作的癖性喜劇。後者因戲擬馬斯頓的風格導致了劇場之戰，其間有幾位戲劇家爭以寫戲相互攻訐，瓊森為此又寫了《辛西婭的狂歡》和《冒牌詩人》。
瓊森最成功的喜劇有《狐貍》、《煉金術士》和《巴托羅繆市集》。
Benjamin Jonson was born 1571 as the posthumous son of a Protestant minister. His mother then moved him to Westminster, where she married a bricklayer. He attended a free parish school as a boy, and thanks to the sponsorship of the headmaster, was able to attend Westminster Grammar School. Unfortunately, Ben lost his scholarship and was forced to take up bricklaying alongside his stepfather. This occupation did not appeal to him, and he left for military duty in Flanders and did not return to England until 1592. He married in 1594, and joined a touring acting company in 1597. Ben Jonson and another playwright then wrote a play called "Isle of Dogs" which was immediately banned on charges of sedition, and he and his friends found themselves in Fleet Prison. He was released after a few months and managed to restart his acting career. In December of 1598 he fought a duel with another actor named Gabriel Spencer; fortunately for Ben, he won, but unfortunately, he was imprisoned on charges of murder and given the death sentence. He managed to escape the gallows and returned to playwriting. He set out on foot in 1618 to visit Scotland and on his return began lecturing on rhetoric at colleges. He died in 1637 and was buried in Westminster Abbey; his epitaph reads: "Oh Rare Ben Jonson!"
風格詳見詩Song to Celia：本詩為英國劇作家、詩人本·瓊生（Ben Jonson，1572—1637）所作。他的詩的特點在於明快，文字幹凈，已有後來古典主義詩歌的特點。To Celia 是壹首很有名的抒情詩，贊美的是精神愛（Platonic love），曾譜成音樂。Celia女子名。
Song to Celia
Drink to me only with thine eyes2，
And I will pledge3 with mine；
Or leave a kiss but in the cup4
And I'll not look for wine．
The thirst that from the soul doth5 rise
Doth ask a drink divine6；
But might I of Jove's nectar sup7，
I would not change for thine．
I sent thee8 late9 a rosy wreath，
Not so much honouring10 thee
As giving it a hope that there
It could not wither'd be11；
But thou thereon didst only breathe12
And sent'st it back to me；
Since when13 it grows，and smells，I swear，
Not of itself but thee14！