If you’ve ever sat through a dry Shakespeare lecture, you probably think Jacobean drama is all about flowery speeches and men in tights. Honestly, John Webster’s The White Devil is more like a 17th-century episode of Succession directed by Quentin Tarantino. It is messy. It is loud. It is deeply, uncomfortably cynical.
Most people hear the title and think it’s a simple story about a "bad" woman. They're wrong.
What is The White Devil actually about?
Back in 1612, Webster dropped this play on an audience that, frankly, hated it. It was too cold for them. He even wrote a salty preface basically calling the crowd a bunch of donkeys who couldn't appreciate art. But looking at it today, it’s a terrifyingly modern look at how power works.
The plot is loosely—and I mean loosely—based on the real-life murder of Vittoria Accoramboni in 1585. In the play, our lead is Vittoria Corombona. She is stuck in a boring marriage to a guy named Camillo. Enter the Duke of Brachiano. He’s powerful, he’s rich, and he’s obsessed with her.
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They start an affair.
Vittoria’s brother, Flamineo, is the one who really greases the wheels. He’s not doing it because he’s a nice guy. He’s a social climber. He’s the guy at the office who would sell his own mother for a promotion—and in this play, he basically does. He facilitates the affair, helps plot two murders, and spends most of the runtime cracking cynical jokes about how everyone is a hypocrite.
The "White" in The White Devil
The title is a bit of a trick. In the 1600s, "white" often referred to something that looked innocent on the outside but was rotten inside. It’s about the mask.
Who is the actual White Devil?
- Vittoria? Most scholars say yes. She stands trial for murder and adultery, and she is fierce. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t beg. She calls out the judges for their own double standards. It’s one of the best "courtroom" scenes in history because she refuses to be the victim the men want her to be.
- The Duke? He’s a monster. He has his wife, Isabella, killed by having her kiss a poisoned portrait of himself. Think about that for a second. That is some top-tier villainy.
- The Church? Cardinal Monticelso, who eventually becomes the Pope, is perhaps the biggest "white devil" of them all. He uses his religious authority to crush people he doesn't like while hiding his own corruption.
Webster is basically saying that the people who look the holiest are often the most dangerous.
A World Without Heroes
You won't find a "good guy" here.
Even the characters who are technically the "victims," like Francisco de Medicis, end up becoming just as bloodthirsty as the people they’re hunting. Francisco wants revenge for his sister Isabella. Fair enough. But his method? He disguises himself as a Moorish soldier and uses slow-acting poison to drive Brachiano insane before strangling him.
It’s a race to the bottom.
Flamineo is probably the most honest person in the play because he’s the only one who admits he’s a garbage human being. He tells us straight up that in a world run by corrupt dukes and popes, a poor guy like him has to be a "pander" to survive. It’s dark stuff.
Why the Red Bull Theatre audience hated it
The play flopped at its premiere.
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The Red Bull was a "low-brow" theater. People went there for slapstick, simple heroes, and easy-to-follow stories. Webster gave them a dense, poetic, nihilistic nightmare where everyone dies and nothing is resolved. It was like showing The Godfather to an audience expecting Looney Tunes.
Also, it was performed in the middle of winter. The theater was open-roofed. You can imagine a bunch of cold, annoyed Londoners watching a woman get called a whore for three hours while everyone poisons each other. They weren't feeling it.
Is it still relevant?
Basically, yes.
We live in an era of "curated" identities. We have the "white" exterior of social media and the "devil" of the reality behind it. Webster was obsessed with the gap between what we show the world and who we actually are.
When Vittoria is on trial, she says: "Stay, my lord; I fain would know shall I be sued in such a distracted fashion?" She’s calling out the fact that the legal system is a performance. It’s not about truth; it’s about who has the better script.
Key Actionable Insights for Readers
If you're planning to read or watch The White Devil, keep these things in mind so you don't get lost in the Jacobean weeds:
- Watch the masks: Pay attention to when characters talk about "paint" or "masks." They are constantly referencing how they hide their true intentions.
- Focus on Flamineo: He’s the narrator of the chaos. If you don't understand why something is happening, look at what Flamineo is getting out of it.
- Note the gender double standards: Compare how the Duke is treated versus how Vittoria is treated. The men commit the murders, but the woman is the one put on trial for her "virtue."
- Look for the "Poison" imagery: From poisoned helmets to poisoned paintings, the play is obsessed with things that look beautiful but kill you.
The White Devil isn't just a play about a scandalous affair in Italy. It’s a warning. It tells us that power is a poison, and the people who seem the most virtuous are often the ones holding the bottle.
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To truly appreciate Webster’s work, you should compare the trial scene in Act 3 with modern political hearings. You’ll find that the language has changed, but the tactics—gaslighting, character assassination, and performative outrage—are exactly the same as they were in 1612.