‘A plague on both your houses’

Had we been alive in the early 17^th century when the bubonic plague repeatedly struck London we would not have had the luxury of watching Netflix, having virtual zoom meetings or sharing our accomplishments on social media. This was probably fortunate for the English playwright William Shakespeare who took the opportunity of ‘quarantine’ from the closed theatres, to write King Lear, Macbeth and many other notable works.

Theatres, bear-baiting arenas, and brothels were often the first places to close when the plague struck. As the contemporary preacher, Thomas White, preached in his sermon of 1577: ‘ The cause of plagues is sinne, … and the cause of sinne are playes: therefore the cause of plagues are playes’. After a few dozen people succumbed to the plague, theatres were closed in London – often for months on end – as they were seen as hotbeds of contagion. Although theatres are no longer considered sinful, they are still sites of high risk and will be among the last venues to open when the pandemic is controlled.

Shakespeare lived from 1564 to 1616 and his entire life was spent in the shadow of the bubonic plague. A few months after he was born In Stratford-upon-Avon, the local vicar recorded the plague coming to his birthplace killing around one fifth of the local population. As happened in other places (and discussed in previous blogposts) the plague would disappear only to return frequently, savagely and without warning.

As an actor, shareholder in two playhouses, and a playwright, Shakespeare had to cope with the repeated closing of his workplace and loss of his livelihood as major outbreaks of the plague occurred five times between 1582 and 1610. The theatre historian J. Leeds Barroll III concluded that during the period 1605 to 1610, London playhouses were probably not open for more than nine months in total. During this period, Shakespeare wrote some of his greatest plays including King Lear, Macbeth, Antony and Cleopatra, The Winter’s Tale and the Tempest.

Even though the plague surrounded him, Shakespeare did not flee from London.  And despite the ever-present danger, including the death of his housekeeper Marie Mountjoy, it is interesting that Shakespeare rarely references the plague directly in his plays or poetry. When the word ‘plague’ appears, it is often an example of the Elizabethan vernacular – ‘a plague upon this howling’ or ‘a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true to one another’. At other times, ‘plague’ becomes an expression of rage and disgust, for example when Coriolanus rails at the plebeians: “All the contagion of the south light on you, you shames of Rome’’ or when Mercutio calls for “A plague on both your houses” as he is dying in ‘Romeo and Juliet’. In this latter play, plague does serve as an important plot device when the letter from Friar Laurence to Romeo cannot reach him due to plague-imposed travel and quarantine restrictions on the friar resulting in the deaths of both the young lovers.  

King Lear is probably Shakespeare’s bleakest tragedy and dates from 1605/6. It tells the story of Lear, an impressive but ageing autocratic ruler, who attempts to divide his kingdom among his three daughters: Goneril, Regan and Cordelia. The older sisters flatter Lear into giving them his kingdom while Cordelia refuses to engage in flattery and, unwilling to be made to profess her sincere love for her father, is ostracised by him. Lear is robbed of his power, dignity and sanity by the older children and lapses into madness before realising the devotion of Cordelia as she tries to rescue him. As Lear moves from majesty to misgivings to madness, he describes his reality as “plagues that hang in this pendulous air”. And realising the duplicitous nature of his daughter, Goneril, curses her as: “a plague sore, an embossed carbuncle in my corrupted blood”. The character of Lear changes towards the end of the play and he acknowledges the suffering of his people and the lack of care he has shown them.  However, it is too late and both Cordelia and Lear die.

In Macbeth, first performed in 1606, Shakespeare describes a country so traumatized, grieving and bewildered that not thinking about the chaos and distress is considered a coping strategy:

These words, written during an outbreak of plague, could well be a description of London at the time – although they refer to how Scotland was faring under the rule of Macbeth.

This begs the question why was the recurring pandemic so ‘absent’ in Shakespeare’s works? While it was the backdrop of his world, was it so disturbing that it would not have been a palatable or entertaining topic for theatregoers? (However, other contemporary writers like Thomas Nashe and Ben Jonson used it as their subject matter). Was it too personally difficult for Shakespeare? Or maybe just not an interesting enough subject with a good story to tell?  

Recently, contemporary commentators have suggested that the ‘plague’ in Shakespeare takes the form of the ignoble or despotic characters in his plays – the arrogant Lear (and his sinister elder daughters) and the Machiavellian Macbeth. In ‘What Shakespeare Actually Wrote About the Plague’ by Stephen Greenblatt in the New Yorker Greenblatt makes the argument that Shakespeare ‘focused his attention instead on a different plague, the plague of being governed by a mendacious, morally bankrupt, incompetent, blood-soaked, and ultimately self-destructive leader’.

Yesterday had the highest number of COVID-19 infections in the world with 106,000 new cases recorded in 24 hours.  Two thirds of the new cases came from just four countries – the United States, Russia, Brazil and India. If Shakespeare were writing in lockdown today, I wonder who his protagonists would be?

Finally, as a ‘nod back’ to the post on ‘synaesthesia’, I am including a clip of a young cellist, James Morley, who is part of the Australian National Academy of Music (ANAM). ANAM is the only professional training institute in Australia dedicated to the artistic and professional development of young classical musicians from Australia and New Zealand. Based in South Melbourne it holds regular concerts, and other musical events, and is familiar to some guides who attend there often. Last year, James presented a suite of solo cello pieces by the contemporary American composer, Ned Rorem, based on works by Shakespeare. I don’t think that either James or Ned Rorem has synaesthesia – but following on from Ted Gott’s thoughts, it is interesting to reflect on how a composer experiences a writer. The video clip shows James in the ANAM rehearsal studio playing ‘Lear’. The quote which stimulated the music reads: “Thou’lt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never” (King Lear, Act V, Scene III)