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Shakespearean Plant Poisons and Modern Medicine

Henbane, belladonna, hemlock, mandrake, yew – ingredients for a witch’s potion? Or plot devices in a Shakespeare play? 

Why not both? 

Just like modern crime writers study ballistics and crime scene procedure, Shakespeare studied botany at a near-expert level (or at least we can assume he did, based on the knowledge displayed in his portfolio). Shakespeare scholar Edward Tabor even speculates that the bard not only read the herbals of the time but possibly knew John Gerarde, a leading Elizabethan botanist who lived across the street during Shakespeare’s time in London (pg. 82). 

As Tabor documents, many of Shakespeare’s plots culminate around plant poisons: Romeo and Juliet’s dual suicide, the death of Hamlet’s father, the witch’s potion in Macbeth, and so on. 

Many of these plants had both positive and negative applications in the renaissance world: as anesthetic, aphrodisiacs, psychedelic, and poison. But have these classic botanicals passed out of modern use? Or do they continue in some form, quacky or otherwise? 

In this article, we’ll be looking at the role of plants in Shakespeare and whether they – or their derivatives – have found any home in modern medicine.

Henbane [Hyoscyamus niger]

Hamlet's Ghost: With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial,

And in the porches of my ears did pour

The leperous distillment

- Hamlet, Act I, Scene 5,59-73

One night out on the parapet, Hamlet – literature’s first mopey grad student and the son of the recently deceased king – is visited by his father’s ghost and learns of his fratricidal uncle Claudius, who supposedly poured henbane/hebenon in the dead king’s ear. And while Hamlet never questions how his dad attained this knowledge while sound asleep, he questions most everything else as he investigates literature’s most famous poisoning. 

H.C. Selous' depiction of Claudius pouring poison in the ear of a sleeping King Hamlet.
H.C. Selous, 1870. As Tabor reports, Shakespeare’s contemporaries considered the ears a gateway to the rest of the body (pg. 88). 

In antiquity, henbane was used as a sedative, containing the narcotic alkaloids scopolamine and hyoscyamine (USDA, The Powerful Solanaceae: Henbane). Shakespeare’s contemporaries understood henbane’s analgesic properties but also its lethality; botanist John Gerarde reports henbane delivering a “sleep deadlie (sic) to the party” (Tabor, 1970, pg. 88). Used also as a hallucinogen, henbane has long been associated with witches because it can induce sense of flight (USDA) and visions of “insane marvels” (Tabor, pg. 88). 

A medieval depiction of witches given flight due to supernatural powers.
Before the German purity laws (Reinheitsgebot) that limited beer to barley, hops, and water, beer was frequently spiked with henbane (USDA). We can only assume that game night was a much wilder time.

Did Henbane Make It?

Yes! The alkaloid hyoscyamine is an antispasmodic isolated from henbane and used to treat cramps, IBS, and other abdominal issues as a GI tract relaxant. And while inconclusive, some researchers have looked into henbane’s potential as an anti-parkinsonian drug. Hyoscyamine is branded as Anaspaz, Ed-Spaz, Levbid, Levsin, Levsin SL, NuLev, Oscimin, Symax Duotab,and Symax SL.

The Garden Poppy [Papaver Somniferum]

Lady Macbeth: I have drugged their possets, 

That death and nature do contend about them

Whether they live or die.

-Macbeth, Act II, Scene II, 6-8

Powder of white Poppie seede (sic) given to children in milke or possite drinke (sic), or an alebrew, or rather with a Caudell of Almonds and hempe seeds, causeth them to sleep. 

-Langham (pg. 507) 

In order to scheme the murder of king Duncan, Lady Macbeth spikes his servants ale, possibly (as some scholars speculate) with the humble poppy seed (Tabor, pg. 86). Known as a soporific, Langham (a contemporary botanist of Shakespeare) reports a recipe for crushing poppy seeds into a drowsy syrup (ibid): seeds that contain morphine and codeine, two powerful opiates, which “remain in the liquid when the seeds are removed” (Mayo Clinic). Such a poppy-derived "drowsy syrup" is referenced by Iago in Othello (Act III, Scene 3, 330). Elizabethans it seems, like the modern rapper, could claim to have “codeine in their cups.” 

Still Life with Nautilus Goblet, Willem Claesz Heda, 1642. A lavish dinner table is depicted with a shell-shaped goblet and half eaten pie.
Still Life with Nautilus Goblet, Willem Claesz Heda, 1642

Opium has played such an outsized role in history that prolonged comment is not needed. From the romantic poets and their Xanadus of earthly delight to Sherlock Holmes slumming in the opium dens, poppy has been used (and frequently abused) to relieve pain and achieve altered states of consciousness throughout recorded history.

The Smokers, Honore Daumier. A painting of two distressed gentleman in a smoky café.
The Smokers, Honore Daumier

Did Opium Make It?

Ever hear of the Sackler family?

The Wild Pansy [Viola Tricolor]

Oberon: Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell.

It fell upon a little western flower,

Before, milk-white, now purple with love's wound,

And maidens call it “love-in-idleness.”

Fetch me that flower, the herb I showed thee once.

The juice of it, on sleeping eyelids laid,

Will make or man or woman madly dote

Upon the next live creature that it sees.

-A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act 2, Scene 1, 165-172

An essential ingredient to the plot of A Midsummer Night's Dream, the wild pansy (which supposedly, when applied topically could induce a libidinous frenzy) is used by Oberon, king of the Fairies, to mess with his estranged wife Titania. But of course, hijinks ensue.

While the pansy's many names reflect its folk-aphrodisiac status – names such as heartsease, love in idleness, or johnny jump up (MedicineNet, Heart's Ease) – the Elizabethan herbals do not report any lust-inducing associations with the plant, only its anti-syphilitic properties (Tabor, pg. 84), which, at least by the next century would have been much appreciated.

Shakespeare, therefore, was working within 16th century folk traditions rather than medical knowledge, but this is understandable, considering that Gerarde and Langham's herbals are filled with aphrodisiacs. Consider the innocent sweet potato, which was known to "procure bodily lust with greedinesse (sic) (Tabor, pg. 83). Candied fruits, like dates, were especially potent when "prepared by cunning confectioners" (ibid). The cotton seed was thought to "increase naturall seede (sic)" and, according to Gerarde, were much in use (ibid).

Love potions have been the staple of fairy tales, and while not a poison in the strictest sense, a classic of witch's brews as well. While the tragedies use poisons in their advance towards death, the comedies use herbs in their march towards love. Both show a sustained human interest in wielding substances towards our desired end state.

Did the Pansy Make It?

Well, not exactly. Science may not indicate the pansy's amorous powers, but it continues to be used alternatively to treat skin disorders like eczema (MedicineNet). Moreover, some have researched its potential as an immunosuppressant. Due to the presence of flavonoids and catechins, heartsease probably has anti-inflammatory effects as well (MedicineNet).

Mandrake [Solanaceae]

Cleopatra: Give me to drink mandragora.

-Anthony and Cleopatra, Act I, Scene 5, 4

While less plot-important than the other list-items, mandrake played a central role in medieval and ancient herbology and appears frequently in Shakespeare. A narcotic and soporific, Cleopatra requests mandragora to let her sleep through her lovesickness. Iago also mentions the soporific quality of the mandrake root in the same breath as opium (Othello, Act III, Scene 3, 330). And Juliet demonstrates Shakespeare's awareness of the common mythology, comparing her distress to the mandrake, which could only be uprooted in moonlight, lest its shrieks drive insanity (USDA, Mandrake).

A medieval depiction of the male and female mandragora roots.
A medieval depiction of mandragora

Like henbane, mandrake had many uses, including as a hallucinogen.

Did Mandrake Make It?

Yes! Mandrake root contains the alkaloid scopolamine, which is FDA approved to treat motion sickness and nausea derived from opiate analgesia (NIH, Scopolamine). Scopolamine is sold as Transderm Scop, Scopace, Maldemar, as well as generically.

Wolfsbane [Aconitum variegatum]

Laertes: And for that purpose I'll anoint my sword.
I bought an unction of a mountebank
So mortal that but dip a knife in it,
Where it draws blood no cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all simples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death
That is but scratched withal. I'll touch my point
With this contagion, that if I gall him slightly,
It may be death.

-Hamlet, Act IV, Scene 7, 141-149

After investigating king Hamlet's poisoning, well, lots of stuff happens, and everyone dies. In this case, Hamlet duels his rival Laertes, who happens to have poisoned his sword. A poison begins the plot, and a poison ends it.

A classic depiction of a fencing dual, with one man thrusting and barely missing his opponent.

While Laertes does not specify the poison, the leading contender is wolfsbane or aconite (derived from wolfsbane). Elizabethans knew of aconite's poisonous potential, specifically as an arrow poison; Gerarde records swelling, madness, and death within the half hour from introduction (Tabor, pg. 89). Presumably, the plant garners its folk-appellation from its ability to ward off wolves and werewolves (National Poison Control Center, Aconitum napellus (Monkshood): A Purple Poison). The National Poison Control Center reports modern cases of aconite poisoning, some worthy of a true-crime drama.

Did Aconite Make It?
No. While aconite can be detoxified and purchased in herbal shops, it's also "responsible for the majority of serious poisonings from Chinese herbal preparations" (National Poison Control Center). Information about herbal use can be found here.

References:

May, M. (N.D.). Aconitum napellus (Monkshood): A Purple Poison. National Capital Poison Center. https://www.poison.org/articles/why-is-monkshood-considered-a-poison--174

Khan, S. (2024). Heartsease. MedicineNet. https://www.medicinenet.com/heartsease/article.htm

Lai, B. (2024). Poppy seed tea: Beneficial or dangerous? Mayo Clinic. https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/drug-addiction/expert-answers/poppy-seed-tea/faq-20559907

The Powerful Solanaceae: Henbane. (N.D.). United States Department of Agriculture. https://www.fs.usda.gov/wildflowers/ethnobotany/Mind_and_Spirit/henbane.shtml#:~:text=The%20pale%20yellow%2C%20bell%2Dshaped,carelessly%20used%2C%20even%20by%20herbalists.

The Powerful Solanaceae: Mandrake. (N.D.). United States Department of Agriculture. https://www.fs.usda.gov/wildflowers/ethnobotany/Mind_and_Spirit/mandrake.shtml

Shakespeare, W. (1597). Romeo and Juliet. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/whats-on/romeo-and-juliet/

Shakespeare, W. (1604). Hamlet. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/hamlet/read/.

Shakespeare, W. (1622). Othello. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/othello/read/

Shakespeare, W. (1623). Anthony and Cleopatra. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/antony-and-cleopatra/

Shakespeare, W. (1623). Macbeth. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/macbeth/read/.

Shakespeare, W. (1623). A Midsummer Night's Dream. Folger Shakespeare Company. https://www.folger.edu/explore/shakespeares-works/a-midsummer-nights-dream/

Riad, M. Hithe, C. (2023). Scopolamine. National Library of Medicine. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK554397/#:~:text=Scopolamine%20is%20a%20medication%20used,the%20anticholinergic%20class%20of%20drugs

Tabor, Edward. (1970). Plant Poisons in Shakespeare. Economic Botany 24 (1), pp. 81-94. https://www.jstor.org/stable/4253115.

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2 thoughts on “Shakespearean Plant Poisons and Modern Medicine

  1. Edward Tabor

    I enjoyed reading your article in The Rotation, "Shakespearian Plant Poisons and Modern Medicine." It is very well-written.

    I am the Dr. Tabor whom you referred to in your article and whose 1970 article, "Plant Poisons in Shakespeare," you referenced. I live in the Washington, DC area, and am actually on the adjunct faculty at The George Washington University School of Medicine and Health Sciences, although I am sure the university has not been aware of my writings about Shakespeare.

    With best regards.

    Edward Tabor, M.D.

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