In Shakespeare's lifetime, travel wasn't reserved for grand tours or royal progresses — it was woven into daily life. Ordinary Elizabethans crossed rivers, walked muddy roads, boarded boats, hired horses, and rode in wagons for business, family visits, market days, court appearances, and worship. England was constantly in motion. But how did people without titles or servants actually get from place to place, and what did it cost them in time, money, and effort?

Today we're joined by Dr. Charmian Mansell, Lecturer in Early Modern History at the University of Sheffield and award-winning author of Female Servants in Early Modern England. Her research uncovers the practical realities of everyday travel in the 16th and 17th centuries — from routes and lodging to ferries, weather delays, and the surprising distances ordinary people were willing to go.

In Shakespeare's play, The Winter's Tale, Autolycus talks about "selling all my trumpery." The reference made me wonder if Autolycus was packing up all his attic junk and random periphery collected over the years to sell them in what might be considered a yard sale for Elizabethan England. Did Shakespeare's England have garage sales where people sold their gently used items to their peers and neighbors? And what about the potential for the Renaissance equivalent of a Goodwill wtore, a thrift store, or even a consignment or pawn shop? Was it possible that people in Shakespeare's lifetime were selling their used items for profit?

In order to explore the world of second hand clothing, thrift stores, and pawn shops of Elizabethan England I'm delighted to welcome Dr. Kate Kelsey Staples, author of "The Significance of the Secondhand Trade in Europe, 1200–1600" to join us to help us explore exactly where one would have deposited or dispatched of their superfluous household goods.

There are many men who lived alongside William Shakespeare in turn of the 17th century England, but today's featured contemporary is a man who served as King James' ambassador to Venice in the 1600s. This man was named Henry Wotton. At grammar school, he received the same humanist education as Shakespeare, but unlike Shakespeare, Henry went on to university, studying at Oxford where he was tutored by Alberico Gentili, the man who was just then publishing the first handbook on international diplomacy. After graduation, Wotton spent five years travelling across Europe, stacking up experience that gained him employment, after which he returned to England to serve as personal secretary Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex. That life abruptly ended when Wotton fled England after the 'Essex Rebellion' that cost Devereux his life. But a chance encounter brought Wotton to the attention of the man who, within months, would claim the English throne. King James recalled Wotton from exile -- and immediately sent him ambassador to Venice.

Here today to share the remarkable story of Sir Henry Wotton—a man whose real-life adventures in diplomacy were unfolding even as Shakespeare was staging ambassadors on the London stage and setting his plays amid the politics of Venice—is our guest, Professor Carol Chillington Rutter, author of Lying abroad: Henry Wotton and the invention of diplomacy. In her book, Dr. Rutter explores the extraordinary life of the man King James I called his "honest dissembler"—a maverick diplomat who fled England in disgrace, only to return and redefine the very art of diplomacy in ways that still influence international relations today.

From delectable marchpane in Romeo and Juliet, and the herbs of the Merchant of Venice to stew'd prunes of Henry IV, and carving capons in Love's Labour's Lost, there is a wide gambit of meals consumed in Shakespeare's plays that span from bawdy feasts to elite noble banquets, and even popular meals eaten as much to control your behavior as they were seen as nourishment. The details about food found throughout Shakespeare's plays reflect the real foods enjoyed from the peasants to the royalty of Shakespeare's life.

This week we are diving into these delectable delights with food historian and author Sam Bilton, to talk about her latest book, Much Ado About Cooking—which was created in collaboration with Shakespeare's Globe---that allows us to get a literal taste of Shakespeare. Much Ado About Cooking takes Shakespeare's own food references and pairs them with real recipes from his lifetime, then reimagines those recipes for the modern cook so that you can easily make, and eat, food from the life of William Shakespeare.

When Shakespeare wrote Hamlet, he gave the melancholy Dane two university friends with peculiarly Danish names—Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. For many centuries, audiences assumed these were simply fictional creations. Yet history reveals that Frederik Rosenkrantz and Knud Gyldenstierne were real men—Danish noblemen who traveled to England during Shakespeare's lifetime as part of an official embassy from the Danish court.

Their visit took place during a fascinating moment of cultural diplomacy: King James VI of Scotland's marriage alliance with Denmark, his 1589 voyage to meet Anne of Denmark, and the exchanges of royal gifts that linked two kingdoms. This same period saw Tycho Brahe's astronomical fame rise across Europe, the University of Wittenberg flourish as an intellectual hub, and England's awareness of the Dutch Golden Age begin to take shape.

Today we'll explore these threads with our guest, Paul Lockhart, Professor of HIstory and Drage Gould Distinguished Professor of Research at Wright State University. He has published seven single author books including "Denmark, 1513-1660: The Rise and Decline of the Renaissance Monarchy. You can see more of his publications and links to his current work in the show notes for today's episode.

He joins us today to help us explore the story of two real courtiers whose names—and perhaps personalities—live on in one of Shakespeare's most famous plays.

When Shakespeare called the sisters in Macbeth "weird," he did not mean what we mean by the word today. In early modern England, "weird" carried deep associations with fate, prophecy, and supernatural power—ideas rooted in classical mythology, medieval folklore, and Renaissance belief.

In this episode of That Shakespeare Life, we explore what "weird" really meant in the 16th and early 17th centuries, and how that meaning reshapes our understanding of one of Shakespeare's most famous groups of characters. Joining me are Dr. Anne-Maree Wicks and Professor Laurie Johnson, co-authors of Weird Shakespeare: The Weird Sisters and Macbeth, whose research traces the shifting language, textual history, and performance traditions surrounding Macbeth's enigmatic sisters.

Together, we examine why Shakespeare never actually uses the phrase "weird sisters" in the play itself, how early spellings like weyward complicate modern interpretations, and when editors began standardizing the word as "weird." We also explore whether these figures may originally have been understood as fairies or nymphs rather than witches—and how later historical events, including witch trials and changing beliefs about the supernatural, shaped how audiences came to see them.

This conversation invites us to step back into Shakespeare's world, where language was fluid, meanings were unstable, and the boundary between fate, folklore, and fear was anything but clear.

Today, we think of Christmas as the season of giving—but in Shakespeare's England, it was New Year's Day that reigned supreme as the biggest gift-giving holiday of the entire year.

Shakespeare himself alludes to this entrenched tradition in The Merry Wives of Windsor, where Falstaff quips: "I'll have my brains ta'en out and buttered, and give them to a dog for a new-year's gift." It's a grotesque image—thank you, Falstaff—but it reveals just how deeply the practice of New Year's gifting permeated society, to the point where even dogs might expect a present.

Of course, no one in Elizabethan England gave and received gifts quite like the queen herself—which is why this week, we're diving into the fascinating world of New Year's gifts at the court of Elizabeth I: how these gifts were chosen, presented, and meticulously recorded—and how they served as powerful tools of politics, loyalty, and social hierarchy in Shakespeare's lifetime.

Joining us to unravel this glittering and strategic tradition is Maria Hayward, whose research on the New Year's Gift Rolls shines a light on the court culture, textiles, and customs that shaped this extraordinary annual ritual.

When we think of King Arthur, many of us imagine medieval romance—knights in shining armor, enchanted swords, or chivalric quests. But for the Tudors, Arthur wasn't just storybook material. In the 16th century, Arthurian legend was a political tool, a national symbol, and—for some—an actual piece of English history. From Henry VII naming his heir "Prince Arthur," to Elizabeth I being welcomed at Kenilworth with Lady-of-the-Lake imagery, the Tudors used Arthurian myth to define their dynasty, elevate their authority, and shape the emerging idea of English nationalism.

This week, we're exploring how Arthur, Merlin, and the world of Geoffrey of Monmouth were reinvented for a new age of politics, performance, and propaganda. Our guest, historian Andrew, walks us through royal pageants, literary allegory, and visual symbols that connected the Tudor monarchy to a heroic—and sometimes ominous—legendary past.