shredsandpatches:

In alphabetical order.

The Bloody Banquet, attributed to Thomas Dekker and Thomas Middleton. The tyrannical king of Cilicia takes in an enemy’s son as an honorable hostage, but things quickly go pear-shaped when his queen falls in love with the newcomer and the whole thing ends with the queen being forced to eat the corpse of her lover. At least we’re informed he tastes delicious: "The lecher must be swallowed rib by rib; / His flesh is sweet; it melts, and goes down merrily.“ Read it here. (Content notes: cannibalism, false rape accusations, dismemberment)

The Changeling, by Thomas Middleton and William Rowley. A claustrophobic (sometimes literally) exploration of forced marriage, coercive sexual relationships, skin diseases, and fun things you can do with a chemistry set, with a weird subplot about proper housing for the mentally ill. Read it here, or watch it here. A production starring Hattie Morahan opens at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse in January. (Content notes: rape by coercion, early modern psychiatry, gross hand injuries)

The Devil’s Charter, by Barnabe Barnes. I’ve always thought it was odd, given the Jacobean stage’s love for lurid Italian-themed tragedies loosely based on historical events, that the Borgias don’t appear as Renaissance stage characters much, but as far as I know, this is the only example. Unsurprisingly, it attributes Pope Alexander VI’s rise to power to the influence of Satan, and the play ends in a hugely entertaining argument between the two about the fine print in their deal. Moral of the story: never be a rules lawyer with Satan. (Also, I desperately want to see this performed by the cast of the Showtime series. David Oakes! You do Read Not Dead stuff at the Globe! Make it happen!) Read it here. (Content notes: pretty much everything, honestly, but especially incest and makeup that melts your face off)

Doctor Faustus, by Christopher Marlowe. And speaking of deals with the devil, does this play need any further introduction? Of course not!  Read it here, or better yet watch the superlative Globe production with Paul Hilton and Arthur Darvill (you can rent it digitally for only five bucks)! (Content notes: hellfire and damnation)

The Duchess of Malfi, by John Webster. Both a poignant love story and a creepy semi-incestuous revenge tragedy, this play features arguably the greatest tragic heroine in early modern drama (YOU GUYS SHE IS JUST SO COOL I LOVE HER SO MUCH). Plus there’s numerous stabbings, a terrifying masque performed by madmen, severed body parts, corpses both real and fake, and a werewolf. Read it here, watch the 1972 BBC version here or ask around for the 2014 production at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse, which was broadcast on the BBC in May. (Content notes: incestuous fixations, though no actual incest)

Macbeth, by William Shakespeare. Another one that needs no introduction. Its Scottish setting and focus on witchcraft reflect the interests of King James I, whose accession was still relatively recent at the time it was written; it also reflects national anxieties in the wake of the Gunpowder Plot, so it’s also appropriate if you need something to watch on Bonfire Night. Read it here, or watch Ian McKellen and Judi Dench as the Macbeths here or Patrick Stewart and Kate Fleetwood here.

The Revenger’s Tragedy, by Thomas Middleton or Cyril Tourneur. Perhaps the most gloriously batshit revenge tragedy of them all, this play follows the story of the slightly unhinged Vindice, who seeks revenge on a corrupt Duke and his equally unpleasant family for the death of his fiancee Gloriana. Whose skull he carries around with him. It’s that kind of play. Read it here, or watch the film version with Christopher Eccleston as Vindice, Derek Jacobi as the Duke, and Eddie Izzard as his aptly named eldest son Lussurioso – I don’t think it’s available to watch online, but you can get the dvd from Netflix if you still do that. Anyway, it’s worth it because it’s awesome (and weird as fuck). (Content notes: rape, misogny, people french-kissing skulls. It’s that kind of play)

The Spanish Tragedy, by Thomas Kyd. One of the runaway hits of the early Elizabethan stage, this tale of the Spanish nobleman Hieronimo’s revenge for the murder of his son was so influential that it continued to be performed, invoked, and parodied well into the seventeenth century. Read it here. (Content notes: hanging, tongue trauma)

Titus Andronicus, by William Shakespeare. The original Shakespearean splatter movie, but also one that’s steeped in classical tradition, with clear ties to Ovid and Seneca. Read it here, or watch the brilliantly weird film adaptation (with Anthony Hopkins in the title role) here. (I am pretty sure you can also stream it on Netflix but I can’t remember my Netflix password and I’m on my laptop.) (Content warnings: rape, mutilation, cannibalism, basically everything)

The Witch of Edmonton, by Thomas Dekker, William Rowley, and John Ford. Elizabeth Sawyer is an outcast in her town, and she gets so sick of people assuming she’s a witch that she finally says “fuck it” and becomes one. With a talking, color-changing dog as a familiar. Read it here, or, if your location and finances allow, a Royal Shakespeare Company production directed by Greg Doran and starring Eileen Atkins just opened up last week. My location and finances do not allow for it, so if you go see it let me know how it was. (Content notes: domestic violence, creepy small-townish dynamics)