Play of the Month: Richard III

I just finished studying my twentieth Shakespeare play, Richard III, the second longest play in the Shakespearean canon by word count and the fourth longest by number of lines.  It was probably written between 1592 and1594, concluding Shakespeare's first tetralogy which also contains Henry VI, Part 1, Henry VI, Part 2, and Henry VI, Part 3. To this end, I also reached a new milestone: completing my self-study of the Henriad, which in an inclusive sense covers both the first and the second tetralogies, with the latter referring to another four plays: Richard II; Henry IV, Part 1; Henry IV, Part 2; and Henry V.

At the beginning of the play that bears his name, Richard famously explains how he is unsatisfied with his position as the subordinate younger brother to King Edward and George, Duke of Clarence. The only thing separating Richard from the throne are his brothers and their heirs. Yet, after Richard wins the crown through murder, Henry Tudor rises as a threat in the west. It is both a momentous history play that has determined Richard’s place in cultural memory, and a tragedy given its meditations on conscience, decision making, and death. I was particularly amazed by the ubiquitous language manipulations, prophecies, curses, ghosts, dreams, and omens employed that have enriched an otherwise dull history play.

As usual, I gained interesting insights into medieval English history and culture through the play, apart from enjoying its fascinating stories and plot development. The first thing I learned was about the Battle of Bosworth, which was the last significant battle of the Wars of the Roses. Fought on 22 August 1485, the battle was won by an alliance of Lancastrians and disaffected Yorkists. Their leader Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, became the first Welsh monarch of England from the House of Tudor by his victory and subsequent marriage to the de facto Yorkist heiress, Elizabeth of York. His opponent Richard III, the last king of the House of York, was killed during the battle, marking the end of the Plantagenet dynasty and ushering in the Tudor dynasty, making it one of the defining moments of English history.

As a non-Christian, the second thing I learned was about the term sanctuary, which, in its original meaning, is a sacred place, protected by ecclesiastical immunity, meaning that fugitives staying there were immune to arrest. It also refers to the holy area around the altar in Christian churches.

The third thing that intrigued me was the origin of the Most Noble Order of the Garter, an order of chivalry founded by King Edward III in 1348. Various legends account for the origin of the Order, with the most popular one involving Countess of Salisbury, whose garter is said to have slipped from her leg while she was dancing at a court ball in Calais. When the surrounding courtiers sniggered, the King picked it up and returned it to her, exclaiming "Shame on him who thinks ill of it". Subsequently, the phrase has become the Order's motto.

Finally, I learned about two legal terms. The first one was attainder, which was the metaphorical "stain" or "corruption of blood" resulting from being condemned for a serious capital crime (felony or treason). It entailed losing not only one's life, property, and hereditary titles, but typically also the right to pass them on to one's heirs. Medieval and Renaissance English monarchs used acts of attainder to deprive nobles of their lands and often their lives. Once attainted, the descendants of the noble could no longer inherit their lands or income. Attainder essentially amounted to the legal death of the attainted person's family.

The second legal term I learned was coverture. It was a legal doctrine in English common law under which a married woman's legal existence was considered to be merged with that of her husband. Upon marriage, she had no independent legal existence of her own, in keeping with society's expectation that her husband was to provide for and protect her. Under coverture, a woman became a feme covert, whose legal rights and obligations were mostly subsumed by those of her husband. An unmarried woman, or feme sole, on the other hand, retained the right to own property and make contracts in her own name.

Here are some of the passages and soliloquies that impressed me most, presented in modern English translation.

Act 1, Scene 1

CLARENCE:

Yes, Richard, I'll inform you when I know—but right now I have no idea. As far as I can tell, the king has been putting a lot of trust in prophecies and dreams lately. And he picked the letter "G" from the alphabet, and says that a wizard told him that "G" will steal the throne from his children. And my name, George, begins with "G," so he thinks that the prophecy refers to me. Because of this, along with other trivial reasons, his Highness feels compelled to arrest me.

RICHARD:

Well, this is what happens when men are ruled by women. It isn't the king who's sending you to the Tower—it's his wife, Lady Elizabeth Grey. She's the one who persuaded him to take such an extreme action. Didn't she and her brother, Anthony Woodeville, make the king send Lord Hastings to the Tower? He was released only today. We are not safe, Clarence. We are not safe.

Act 1, Scene 4

CLARENCE:

[To BRAKENBURY] Ah, jailer, jailer, I did all those things that the ghosts accused me of—and my crimes are now giving evidence against my soul. I did them all for King Edward's sake, and now see how he thanks me. 

[To himself] Oh God, if you aren't satisfied with my repentant prayers—and you must avenge my crimes—then punish me alone! Oh, spare my innocent wife and my poor children!

[To BRAKENBURY] Jailer, please sit with me a while. My soul is sad, and I want to sleep.

BRAKENBURY:

I will, my lord. May God give you good rest.

(CLARENCE sleeps)

BRAKENBURY:

Sorrow breaks natural rhythms and interrupts sleep, making night into morning and noon into night. The only glory princes really have are their titles, which are outward honors for their inner troubles. They experience a world of worry about imaginary things, so that the only real difference between princes and peasants is the princes' outward fame.

Act 2, Scene 2

QUEEN ELIZABETH:

I'm performing the violent tragedy of my life. Edward—my husband, your son, our king—is dead. Why should we keep living when our leader and lifeblood is gone? How can the branches keep growing when the root is gone? Why aren't the leaves withering now that the sap is dried up? If you will live, then lament. If you will die, then be quick about it, so our swift-winged souls might catch up with the king's—or at least follow him, like obedient subjects, into his new kingdom of never-ending night.

DUCHESS:

Ah, I was your noble husband's mother, so I have just as large a share in your grief. I've already wept over my own worthy husband's death and kept myself alive only by looking at his sons, his mirror images. But now two of those mirrors have been cracked into pieces by death, and the only one left to comfort me is Richard—an untrustworthy mirror who only causes me shame and grief. You are a widow, but you're also a mother, and you still have the comfort of your children left. But death has snatched my husband from my arms and then plucked my two crutches, Clarence and Edward, from my feeble hands. Oh, I have every reason to surpass you in sorrow and drown out your weeping with my own, as your loss is only half of mine!

Act 2, Scene 4

YORK:

Grandmother, one night while we were eating dinner, my uncle Rivers mentioned that I had grown more than my brother. "Yes," said my uncle Richard, "Small herbs grow with grace, while big weeds grow quickly." And since then, I've wished that I wouldn't grow so fast, because sweet flowers are slow, and weeds are hasty.

DUCHESS:

Honestly, honestly, that saying certainly didn't hold true for Richard! He was a terrible child, and took such a long time to grow up that if that rule were true, he should be a very gracious adult.

Act 3, Scene 1

PRINCE:

That Julius Caesar was a famous man. His courage aided his intelligence, and his intelligence helped him make sure that his reputation for courage outlived him. Death didn't conquer that conqueror. Now he lives on in fame, though not in life. I'll tell you what, my cousin Buckingham—

BUCKINGHAM:

What, my gracious lord?

PRINCE:

If I live to be a man, I'll conquer France and win back our claim to the throne there. Otherwise I'll die as a soldier, though I lived as a king.

RICHARD:

[To himself] Short summers often have an early spring, as they say. Those who die young are usually precocious.

Act 3, Scene 7

BUCKINGHAM:

My lord, your response shows that you have a strong conscience, but your objections are trivial, especially considering the circumstances. You say that Prince Edward is your brother's son. We agree, but not by your brother's wife. King Edward was first engaged to Lady Lucy—and your mother lives as a witness to this—and after that he was betrothed to Lady Bona, the King of France's sister-in-law. But when both these engagements failed, Elizabeth Grey—a harried mother of many sons, a poor widow losing her former beauty, a woman past her prime—took advantage of his lust and seduced him away from his role of majesty. She led him to drop his standards and commit adultery with her. With him she conceived this illegitimate Edward, whom we now politely call "the Prince." I could describe even worse things, too, but I'll restrain myself out of respect for some who are still alive. Therefore, my good lord, even if you don't want to bless us and the land with your rule, then at least accept this offered crown to rescue your noble family from its current corruption. Return the line of hereditary kingship to a true, straight course.

RICHARD:

Alas, why would you heap this responsibility on me? I am unfit for power and majesty. Don't take this the wrong way, but I cannot and will not give in to you.

Act 4, Scene 1

DUCHESS 

[To DORSET] You go to Richmond, and may good fortune go with you.

[To ANNE]  You go to Richard, and may guardian angels protect you. 

[To QUEEN ELIZABETH] And you go to sanctuary, and keep up your spirits. I will go to my grave, where peace and rest can lie alongside me. I've seen eighty-odd years of sorrow. Every hour of joy has been destroyed by a week of grief.

QUEEN ELIZABETH 

Wait, and look back at the Tower with me. You ancient stones of the Tower, have pity on those tender children who are locked inside your walls because of envy. You are a rough cradle for such little pretty ones. You rude, ragged nurse; you old, sullen playmate for tender princes—treat my babies well. And so I bid your stones farewell, you Tower, with all my foolish sorrow.

Act 4, Scene 4

RICHARD:

Whatever is done cannot be undone. Men make mistakes sometimes, and then they repent when they have the time. If I did take the kingdom from your sons, then to make up for it I'll give it to your daughter. If I've killed your children, then I'll give them new life by having children with your daughter. A grandmother is hardly loved less than a mother. Grandchildren are just one step removed from children, made of your same substance and your very blood. They take the same amount of effort, minus that one night of labor which you suffered for your daughter's sake. Your children troubled you in your youth, but my children will comfort you in your old age. Your only real loss is that your son wasn't king, but through that loss your daughter will become queen. I can't repay you as much as I'd like to, so accept what kindness I can offer. Your son Dorset—who fled in fear and joined the French army against me—would come quickly home to high promotions and great dignity if this marriage takes place. The king who calls your beautiful daughter "wife" will call Dorset "brother." Once again you'll be the mother to a king, and all the ruins of unhappy times will be repaired with double their value in contentment. Why, we can look forward to many good days ahead! The liquid tears you've shed will return, transformed into pearls. Your happiness will increase to ten times its original size, plus interest. Go then, my future mother-in-law; go to your daughter. Use your experience to make her bold in her youthful innocence. Prepare her ears to hear my courting words. Put in her tender heart the ambition to be queen. Acquaint the Princess with the sweet, silent hours of joy in marriage, and when I've punished that petty rebel, dull-brained Buckingham, I will return crowned with victory wreaths and lead your daughter to a conquerer's bed. I will transmit all my victory to her, and she will be the  real conqueror—the emperor of the emperor.

QUEEN ELIZABETH:

What should I say to her? Her father's brother wants to be her husband? Or should I say it's her uncle? Or should I say it's the man who killed her brothers and uncles? Under what name should I go wooing on your behalf? What name can please God, the law, and my honor, and also seem appealing to such a young woman?

Act 5, Scene 3

GHOST OF PRINCE:

[To RICHARD] May I weigh down your soul tomorrow! Remember how you stabbed me at Tewkesbury in the prime of my life. So despair, and die! 

[To RICHMOND] Be cheerful, Richmond, for the wronged souls of butchered princes fight on your side. I, King Henry's son, offer you my comfort, Richmond.

GHOST OF HENRY VI:

[To RICHARD] When I was alive, you stabbed my kingly body full of deadly holes. Remember the Tower, and remember me. Despair, and die! Henry the Sixth tells you to despair and die! 

[To RICHMOND] You who are virtuous and holy, be also victorious. I, Henry—who prophesied that you would be king one day—comforts you in your sleep. Live and prosper!

GHOST OF CLARENCE:

[To RICHARD] May I weigh down your soul tomorrow! It's me, poor Clarence, who was drowned to death in a barrel of sickening wine, betrayed by your plotting. Remember me tomorrow in the battle, and let your blunted sword fall from your hand. Despair, and die! 

[To RICHMOND] You offspring of the house of Lancaster, the wronged heirs of York pray for you. Good angels will guard you in battle. Live and prosper!

GHOST OF ANNE:

[To RICHARD] Richard, it's your wife, wretched Anne your wife, who never had a quiet hour of sleep with you. Now I've come to fill your sleep with disturbing thoughts. Tomorrow in the battle, remember me and drop your blunted sword. Despair, and die! 

[To RICHMOND] You quiet soul, sleep a quiet sleep. Dream of success and happy victory. Your enemy's wife prays for you.

Act 5, Scene 5

STANLEY:

[Offering him the crown] Courageous Richmond, you fought well. See, I took this long-stolen crown from the dead forehead of that bloody wretch. Now let it grace your brows. Wear it, enjoy it, and do much with it.

RICHMOND:

Bury them in a manner appropriate to their social rank. Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers who fled, if they'll return and submit to me. And then—as I swore I would—I will marry Elizabeth, uniting the York and Lancaster families. God, smile upon this fair union now, after frowning so long upon the hatred between the two families. What traitor hears me and doesn't agree? England has been crazy for a long time, and injured herself. Brothers have blindly shed their brothers' blood. Fathers have impulsively slaughtered their own sons. Sons have been compelled to butcher their fathers. All this divided York and Lancaster even more, when they were already ominously divided. Oh, but now let Richmond and Elizabeth—the true heirs of each royal house—be joined together in holy marriage! And if God wills it, let their heirs enrich the future with peace, plenty, and beautiful, prosperous days! Gracious God, may you blunt the sharpness of traitors' swords and anyone who would bring back these violent days to make poor England weep tears of blood! If any would try to wound this land's fair peace with treason, then don't let them live to enjoy its prosperity. Now civil wounds are bandaged and can heal, and peace lives again. Long may she live here. Let God say amen!