richard iii shakespeare

Letters to Richmond, you shall answer it. There let him sink, and be the seas on him! Upon my life, my lord, I'll under-take it; And so, God give you quiet rest to-night! Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd. Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower. Elizabeth, childless and in her late fifties when Richard III was first staged, would be the last of the Tudor line. What thinkest thou, will our friends prove all true? Lord, Lord! Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads. Sir Robert Brakenbury. Where shall we sojourn till our coronation? O Dorset, speak not to me, get thee hence! Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause. Dream on thy cousins smother'd in the Tower: And weigh thee down to ruin, shame, and death! Inter their bodies as becomes their births: And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament. To draw the brats of Clarence out of sight; And to give notice, that no manner of person. Six or seven thousand is their utmost power. A scum of Bretons, and base lackey peasants, Whom their o'er-cloyed country vomits forth. March on, join bravely, let us to't pell-mell. Rivers. And, in good time, here comes the sweating lord. Having no more but thought of what thou wert. To do this deed will hate you for the deed. Simple, plain Clarence! Is lighted on poor Hastings' wretched head! And stand betwixt two churchmen, good my lord; For on that ground I'll build a holy descant: Play the maid's part, still answer nay, and take it. Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave. [Aside] And supper too, although thou know'st it not. Richard III by William Shakespeare, BBC Radio 7, 31 October 2009 . here will I lie tonight; But where to-morrow? Richard yet lives, hell's black intelligencer. Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while! My babes were destined to a fairer death. Was it not she and that good man of worship. Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head! and he's gone. Which now, two tender playfellows to dust. Let them not live to taste this land's increase. Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul. With Laurence Olivier, Cedric Hardwicke, Nicholas Hannen, Ralph Richardson. You mean, to bear me, not to bear with me: He thinks that you should bear me on your shoulders. No more shall be the neighbour to my counsel: Hath he so long held out with me untired, My lord, I hear the Marquis Dorset's fled, To Richmond, in those parts beyond the sea. Hath she forgot already that brave prince. And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. Thy garments are not spotted with our blood. In deep designs and matters of great moment. When scarce the blood was well wash'd from his hands. Throng to the bar, crying all, Guilty! how fares our loving brother? Whilst, in the mildness of your sleepy thoughts. when done thee wrong? To warn false traitors from the like attempts. And who doth lead them but a paltry fellow. For false forswearing and for murder too: To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster. Use careful watch, choose trusty sentinels. How do I thank thee, that this carnal cur. His soul thou canst not have; therefore be gone. Go thou to Richmond, and good fortune guide thee! Good morrow, Catesby; you are early stirring. First, mighty sovereign, let me know your mind. What stays had I but they? The silent hours steal on. To-morrow are let blood at Pomfret-castle; And bid my friend, for joy of this good news. The peace of England and our persons' safety. I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal. Good angels guard thy battle! Make bold her bashful years with your experience; Put in her tender heart the aspiring flame, Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the princess, With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys. And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead? Is the king dead? Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight? Which cannot brook the accent of reproof. If thou wilt outstrip death, go cross the seas, And live with Richmond, from the reach of hell. Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said. He that doth naught with her, excepting one. At the lower end of the hall, hurl'd up their caps, And some ten voices cried 'God save King Richard!'. May fright the hopeful mother at the view; Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load. Welcome, sweet prince, to London, to your chamber. If thou hadst fear'd to break an oath by Him. Welcome to the LitCharts study guide on William Shakespeare's Richard III. Your children were vexation to your youth. Bad news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better: I fear, I fear 'twill prove a troublous world. The textual history of Richard III is convoluted: the version of the play printed first (and reprinted many times) is probably a text that was written later than the second version of the play printed, but the source for both versions are not clear. and so falls it out, With Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: and so 'twill do, With some men else, who think themselves as safe, As thou and I; who, as thou know'st, are dear. I suspect that Shakespeare meant his audience to recognise, in the play’s Richard III character, Robert Cecil, William’s son – and that in the 1590s they would very clearly have done so. The proudest of you all. At Tewksbury: despair, therefore, and die! Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world, My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days. Foul shame upon you! Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have, Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make. To threaten me with death is most unlawful. Is colder tidings, yet they must be told. And what these sorrows could not thence exhale. If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide. I do love thee so. But canst thou guess that he doth aim at it? And then, in speaking, not to incur the last, Your love deserves my thanks; but my desert. Murder, stem murder, in the direst degree; All several sins, all used in each degree. Were factious for the house of Lancaster; And, Rivers, so were you. Can make seem pleasing to her tender years? Edward and Clarence. When he doth bid good morrow with such a spirit. As loath to lose him, not your father's death; It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost. But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. My damned son, which thy two sweet sons smother'd. Why who's so gross. When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper. So far in blood that sin will pluck on sin: Tear-falling pity dwells not in this eye. And wet his grave with my repentant tears. Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. Peace, master marquess, you are malapert: Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current. Take that, until thou bring me better news. Else wherefore breathe I in a Christian land? Act 1, Scene 3: The palace. Cold friends to Richard: what do they in the north. Were red-hot steel, to sear me to the brain! He said the truth: and what said Surrey then? Who spake of brotherhood? King Edward IV: Dies of an illness. Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face; The least of you shall share his part thereof. Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom. then, God grant me too. In God's name, speak: when is the royal day? For thee to murder: for my daughters, Richard. To torture thee the more, being what thou art. I long with all my heart to see the prince: I hope he is much grown since last I saw him. I'll join with black despair against my soul. Will not King Richard let me speak with him? Ay, ay. Adieu, poor soul, that takest thy leave of it! Now, for my life, she's wandering to the Tower. You have, my lord: would it might please your grace. Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. Cancel his bond of life, dear God, I prey, O, thou didst prophesy the time would come, That I should wish for thee to help me curse. And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. Master lieutenant, pray you, by your leave. Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement. he deserved his death; And you my good lords, both have well proceeded. Come, go with me; Under our tents I'll play the eaves-dropper. O, true, good Catesby: bid him levy straight. I'll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it, makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it. Commend me to Lord William: tell him, Catesby, His ancient knot of dangerous adversaries. And you shall understand from me her mind. And shall the same give pardon to a slave? Come gentlemen. The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? He lays his breast open: she offers at it with his sword, Exeunt some with KING EDWARD IV and QUEEN MARGARET, Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS, and DORSET after her, Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF, Enter young YORK, HASTINGS, and the CARDINAL, A Sennet. Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence! Free shipping. But, sure, I fear, we shall ne'er win him to it. Your grace, we think, should soonest know his mind. I died for hope ere I could lend thee aid: But cheer thy heart, and be thou not dismay'd: God and good angel fight on Richmond's side; And Richard falls in height of all his pride. Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while. I say, my lord, they have deserved death. Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child! La plupart des historiens datent la rédaction de Richard III de 1591 ou 1592. They include Richard II, Henry IV Parts I and II, Henry V, Henry VI Parts I, II and III and Richard III. No more than from my soul I mourn for yours. Richard III shows Shakespeare’s development as a playwright and maturing in his handling of characterisation and language after the early, rougher works comprising the three Henry VI plays. God witness with me, I have wept for thine. And so doth mine: I muse why she's at liberty. Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son. Because sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste. God bless your grace! Because that, like a Jack, thou keep'st the stroke. My liege, in Kent the Guildfords are in arms; Flock to their aid, and still their power increaseth. On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this! speak suddenly; be brief. I am their fathers mother; I will see them. is it not an easy matter. Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers. Weigh it but with the grossness of this age. And only in that safety died her brothers. Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary. Thou sing'st sweet music. And much I need to help you, if need were; Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time. May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! With that grim ferryman which poets write of. Will conquer him! Whom envy hath immured within your walls! Fight, gentlemen of England! And take thy office from thee, on my peril. Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot. Fool, of thyself speak well: fool, do not flatter. Had graced the tender temples of my child. Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! Dorset is fled to Richmond. But since you teach me how to flatter you. Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh. Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death; How can we aid you with our kindred tears? Say then, who dost thou mean shall be her king? Richard, thy wife, that wretched Anne thy wife. My Lord of Buckingham, if my weak oratory. To turn their own points on their masters' bosoms: Now Margaret's curse is fallen upon my head; 'When he,' quoth she, 'shall split thy heart with sorrow. If so, then be not tongue-tied: go with me. What is my offence? Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children? From Tamworth thither is but one day's march. What traitor hears me, and says not amen? Well thought upon; I have it here about me. I must be married to my brother's daughter. High-reaching Buckingham grows circumspect. Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile. Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins! On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? With thy embracements to my wife's allies, Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me. That would reduce these bloody days again. All for our vantage. In Shakespeare After All, Garber points out that "Shakespeare's Richard III is arguably the first fully realized and psychologically conceived character in his plays." Is it even so? For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales. Some light-foot friend post to the Duke of Norfolk: Ratcliff, thyself, or Catesby; where is he? Now thy proud neck bears half my burthen'd yoke; From which even here I slip my weary neck. And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain; And sent to warn them to his royal presence. Now civil wounds are stopp'd, peace lives again: That she may long live here, God say amen. Was not your husband. I cannot think it. In this play, it delights Richard to descant upon his deformity as he dissembles its meaning. When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him; Nor when thy warlike father, like a child. A street. Which, as thou know'st, unjustly must be spilt. And mark how well the sequel hangs together: For yesternight by Catesby was it brought me; And yet within these five hours lived Lord Hastings. Look, what is done cannot be now amended: Which after hours give leisure to repent. Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life. Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man: No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. If you will live, lament; if die, be brief. A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? Which of you trembles not that looks on me? Buckingham's army is dispersed and scatter'd; There is my purse to cure that blow of thine. what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not? God pardon them that are the cause of it! Here pitch our tents, even here in Bosworth field. Lord Hastings, Earl Rivers, Lord Grey, and Sir Thomas Vaughan: Executed by Richard, Duke of Gloucester. Thy age confirm'd, proud, subdued, bloody. Do so, it is a point of wisdom: fare you well. He is; and, see, he brings the mayor along. When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow. Call up Lord Stanley, bid him bring his power: I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain. Being nothing like the noble duke my father: But touch this sparingly, as 'twere far off. For I, too fond, might have prevented this. And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance: The sorrow that I have, by right is yours. Act 1, Scene 2: The same. When I have most need to employ a friend. No, no; by God's good grace his son shall reign. Relenting fool, and shallow, changing woman! From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. Which we more hunt for than the grace of God! He little thought of this divided friendship: Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. The son of Clarence have I pent up close; His daughter meanly have I match'd in marriage; The sons of Edward sleep in Abraham's bosom. If I did take the kingdom from your sons. King Edward IV: Dies of an illness. At any time have recourse unto the princes. You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; But for my brother not a man would speak, For him, poor soul. Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward. Harp on it still shall I till heart-strings break. The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul! How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? But how long fairly shall her sweet lie last? But, God be thank'd, there's no need of me. If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life. The chaplain of the Tower hath buried them; Come to me, Tyrrel, soon at after supper. 'tis so: but Edward lives. And Anne my wife hath bid the world good night. Bettering thy loss makes the bad causer worse: Revolving this will teach thee how to curse. He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband. Richard is eager to clear his way to the crown. More than I have said, loving countrymen. In this just suit come I to move your grace. To worry lambs and lap their gentle blood. Created by the original team behind SparkNotes, LitCharts are the world's best literature guides. Hastings, and Edward's children, Rivers, Grey. And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused; Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others. And aid thee in this doubtful shock of arms: Lest, being seen, thy brother, tender George, Farewell: the leisure and the fearful time. This character as portrayed, as well as the play, has enthralled both actors and students of literature and the arts for centuries. To pray for them that have done scathe to us. Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him. I'll strive, with troubled thoughts, to take a nap. If heaven will take the present at our hands. Besides, he hates me for my father Warwick; And will, no doubt, shortly be rid of me. Infer fair England's peace by this alliance. Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell. In the main battle, whose puissance on either side. Richard III (The Life and Death of Richard the Third) est la dernière pièce historique d'un ensemble qui forme, avec les trois parties d'Henri VI, la première tétralogie de William Shakespeare. That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing: You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers. Then know, that from my soul I love thy daughter. A parlous boy: go to, you are too shrewd. 'Tis said, my liege, in Yorkshire are in arms. Have mercy, Jesu!--Soft! And with all speed post with him toward the north. And ask'd the mayor what meant this wilful silence: 'Thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferr'd;'. This Edward, whom our manners term the prince. The lips of those that breathe them in the air. Where are thy children? He smiled and said 'The better for our purpose.'. For which your honour and your faith is pawn'd; The earldom of Hereford and the moveables, Stanley, look to your wife; if she convey. Richard is thus crowned King, much to the horror of the various queens (Elizabeth, the widow of Edward IV; Anne, the widow of the man Richard had murdered; and Margaret, the widow of Henry VI, also murdered by Richard in 3 Henry VI) who call out Richard’s abhorrent behaviour. I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion. No, mighty liege; therefore mistrust me not. The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands: Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee. What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. Look back, defend thee, here are enemies. To your good prayers will scarcely say amen. Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! Ay, if yourself's remembrance wrong yourself. That excellent grand tyrant of the earth. would not they speak? As if thou wert distraught and mad with terror? To give your censures in this weighty business? And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own. What says your highness to my just demand? When he had done, some followers of mine own. Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love. Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites. The play is set across England in the run-up to the reign of King Richard III and is littered with quotes from characters that resonate in the common consciousness to this day. My lord, I know a discontented gentleman. With what a sharp-provided wit he reasons! Unmanner'd dog! Ah, ha, my lord, this prince is not an Edward! About Shakespeare's Richard III, including a synopsis of the play and other information. Withdraw you hence, my lord, I'll follow you. Earth gapes, hell burns, fiends roar, saints pray. [Aside] Short summers lightly have a forward spring. Against my kindred, brothers, and myself, Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather. What stay had I but Edward? I thank his grace, I know he loves me well; But you, my noble lords, may name the time; And in the duke's behalf I'll give my voice. I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. As Richard III opens, Richard is Duke of Gloucester and his brother, Edward IV, is king. give me a cup of wine. The time will come when thou shalt wish for me. I suspect that Shakespeare meant his audience to recognise, in the play’s Richard III character, Robert Cecil, William’s son – and that in the 1590s they would very clearly have done so. Who sues to thee and cries 'God save the queen'? there's none else by: Is there a murderer here? Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester. Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. Go on before; I'll talk with this good fellow. Than of his outward show; which, God he knows. Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame. Looking for Richard III quotes? Show. Good news or bad, that thou comest in so bluntly? And doubt you not, right noble princes both. His royal person,--, Whom God preserve better than you would wish!--. I have stay'd for thee. Peace, children, peace! That you take with unthankfulness, his doing: In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful. And, in my company, my brother Gloucester; Upon the hatches: thence we looked toward England. Paul is right – this is obviously propaganda for the Tudors rather than history. To bar my master's heirs in true descent. Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee; And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed. Be of good cheer: mother, how fares your grace? And all good men of this ungovern'd isle. while we reason here, Some one take order Buckingham be brought. I, that kill'd her husband and his father. Both characters are ‘haunted’ by visions of the people they have had murdered to clear their path to the throne. Which I will purchase with my duteous service; If ever any grudge were lodged between us; Of you, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you; Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all. Go, go, up to the leads; the lord mayor knocks. Unless for that he comes to be your liege. Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made. Where is thy power, then, to beat him back? Thus both are gone with conscience and remorse; They could not speak; and so I left them both. How! And lay those honours on your high deserts. Murder thy breath in the middle of a word. Did Julius Caesar build that place, my lord? Cannot thy master sleep these tedious nights? In other words, he is kind of the great-grandfather of psychologically complex characters like Macbeth and Hamlet – which is a pretty big deal. And every tongue brings in a several tale. A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; And that the queen's kindred are made gentle-folks: With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. That Edward still should live! Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. And there the little souls of Edward's children. For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. I had rather be a pedlar: Far be it from my heart, the thought of it! What, will you go unto the Tower, my lord? how goes the world with thee? All this from my remembrance brutish wrath, But when your carters or your waiting-vassals, Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced. His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights. Think upon Vaughan, and, with guilty fear, Awake, and think our wrongs in Richard's bosom.

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