In 1599, when the Lord Chamberlain’s Men built the Globe Theatre on the south bank of the River Thames, the sign over the main entrance featured Atlas supporting a globe on his shoulders. Beneath the Titan were the words “Totus Mundus Agit Histrionem.”
“The Whole World Acts as an Actor.”
Over the centuries, probably due to Shakespeare’s most famous line from the comedy As You Like It (see below), many have interpreted this Latin phrase on the Globe’s sign as “the whole world is a playhouse.”
The gist of Jaques’s line from As You Like It is:
All the world’s a stage, and all the people merely players.
They have their exits and entrances, and in their times play many parts.
(I say “gist” because I prefer gender references that are less limiting than the 16th century status quo).
I totally agree with Jacques’s sentiment. In fact, I wrote an inspirational essay about it last year, called The Shakespeare Quote That Will Change Your Life, which you can get for free here.
However, the sign over the Globe, “Totus Mundus Agit Histrionem,” doesn’t actually translate to “the whole world is a playhouse.” Shakespeare knew WAY too much about the world (and Latin) to diss Mother Earth like that. Rather, the sign over the Globe was pointing at something even more profound, which is why I love watching his plays any chance I get.
PSA: Shakespeare’s plays were not written to be read from a book; seventy percent of the population in London couldn’t even read. The plays were intended to be a wildly entertaining, fully interactive community experience, enjoyed by everyone from the groundlings to Queen Elizabeth herself. If you are struggling to read the plays, put down the books and give them a go the way they were originally intended to be savored: find a film, TV, or live performance and dive in. It’s a much more active and fulfilling experience.
Here's how I break down the Latin on the Globe’s sign:
“Totus Mundus” is the “whole world.”
“Agit” is the ultimate action word. It means “to act.”
“Histrionem” is “an actor.”
Nowhere do we find the word “playhouse,” and nowhere do we find the passive verb “is.”
If Shakespeare wanted to write the Latin version of “the whole world is a playhouse,” he would have written “totus mudus theatrum” or possibly “totus mundus est scaena.”
He didn’t.
That’s because Mother Earth, the Great Globe, Gaia, the Big Blue Marble, the Whole World, the Totus Mundus is not merely a static playhouse sitting around waiting for the acting company, the stage crew, and the audience to arrive. Shakespeare knew our Earth is much more than an empty shell, and he was making the same comment about his newest business adventure, as a member of the seven-person syndicate who built the Globe Theatre.
Just like our terrestrial home, Shakespeare intended for his Globe Theatre to have meaning in and of itself, before, during, and after the people arrive on site.
The globe we inhabit is a sentient, living, breathing being that acts in form just like all the creatures she supports. She breathes fire like a dragon, blankets us in snow like a swaddled baby, shakes and rumbles like Hephaestus’s forge, whirls like a dervish to give us day and night, and floods us from her depths with life-giving water.
Rainbows, sunrises and sunsets, dancing auroras in the north and south, soft breezes, warm sands, frosty mountains to climb, blue oceans to explore, and the bounty of every kind of flora and fauna (seen and unseen) make their home in her broad embrace. They couldn’t do it without her.
Mother Earth acts, just as we do, as an actor on the stage of life. We can’t help but notice her potency and her energy and she shifts and changes, inviting us to do the same. She will not be silenced or controlled, and neither will we.
Nature is always creating, moving, and adapting, and in that is a message for us to apply in our current climate (no pun intended). Oppressors have tried for centuries to control our Earth, pollute her, devalue her, and divide her with ridiculous labels and boundaries.
They’re trying to do the same to us, to restrict us from expressing our power. It won’t work because they’re underestimating us and our creativity.
The Mayor of London and Court of Aldermen similarly restricted Shakespeare and his acting buddies, issuing proclamations against plays being performed within London’s city limits because of alleged violence due to large crowds. One such proclamation gave the following as a reason to control the plays in London: “the inordinate haunting of great multitudes of people, especially youth, to plays, interludes, and shows, namely occasion of frayes and quarrels, evil practices and incontinency.” Chambers, Elizabethan Stage, Vol. 4, p.273.
Hmmm, sounds like the powers that be didn’t like the public, especially the younger generation, getting together to create its own narrative. Sound familiar?
In response to these restrictions on their lives and their livelihoods, Shakespeare’s acting company, the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, moved their venue across the Thames, outside the jurisdiction of the Mayor and the Aldermen, but close enough that a flag flying atop the Globe, signaling that a play was to be performed that day, could be seen across the water, inviting Londoners to walk across London Bridge to see the show.
The Globe wasn’t just an empty playhouse; it was a boon to its new community in Bankside, which benefited from its arrival and it was an ever-present message to the government that creativity would not be stifled. Shakespeare and his buddies were no longer beholden to a government that tell them what art they could and couldn’t make, when they could make it, and who could participate in its enjoyment. They constructed their artistic gathering place and got down to the business of acting.
In 1599, a year fraught with difficulties not unlike 2025, Shakespeare’s Globe acted as an actor. Gaia, our global home, is acting as an actor in our current environment, and she beckons us to do the same. Totus Mundus Agit Histrionem.