KING RICHARD III.

The Tragedy of Richard the Third may be considered Shakespeare's first original English historical play, although it owes much of its dramatic colouring to the older play of The True Tragedy of Richard Duke of York, which was printed in 1595, and which Shakespeare embodied in the Third Part of King Henry the Sixth.

Shakespeare's Richard the Third was first printed in 1597, with the following title: "The Tragedy of King Richard the Third: containing His treacherous Plots against his brother Clarence: the pitiful murther of his innocent Nephewes: his tyrannicall vsurpation : with the whole course of his detested life, and most deserued death. As it hath been lately acted by the Right Honourable the Lord Chamberlain his Servants." In the folio of 1623, it is called "The Tragedy of Richard the Third, with the Landing of Earle Richmond, and the Battell at Bosworth Field."

The Tragedy was for a long time very popular on the stage; but now as an acted drama-it is not directly taken from the poet's text, but is a compilation chiefly from the Third Part of King Henry the Sixth-very effectively selected and augmented by Colley Cibber (in 1700,) and since then adopted by nearly all our eminent actors. In the earlier years of the performance of Cibber's version, the greater part of the First Act was suppressed by the dramatic licenser, on the plea that the murder of the imprisoned King Henry might suggest to the English malcontents a similar fate either for William, the King over the land, or for James, the King over the water. As soon as the fear of assassination ceased, the restriction was withdrawn, and the sword of every modern Roscius still " weeps for the poor King's death."

In the Tragedy of Richard III, historical facts have been frequently blended with tradition-a very fruitful source of error. Under the lynx-eyed jealousy of the Tudor-queen Elizabeth, it was policy to paint this hero of the House of York in the darkest colours; not only to prove the poet's attachment to the political principles of the Lancastrian race, but to compliment the succeeding dynasty of the Tudors; by presenting, under the appearance of Virtue in opposition to Vice, a fair if not a plausible claim to public estimation; in having delivered a suffering nation from a tyrannical monster, to make way for the accession of King Henry the Seventh. There is, here, therefore, "no scandal against Queen Elizabeth."

The Dramatis Personæ retained in this Condensation are:

The Time of the entire Play extends from the murder of King Henry VI, in 1471, to the accession of Henry VII, in 1485: the intervening reigns were those of Edward IV, (died 1483,) and Edward V, (murdered in the same year). The reign of King Richard III began in 1483 and was terminated by his death, in 1485, at the Battle of Bosworth-field.

The Scene of the Action is wholly in England.

We have before us a Street (in London) in which the Duke (of Gloster is moodily walking, while waiting the arrest of his brother, the Duke of Clarence, who is to be led this way.

Glo. Now is the 'Winter of our dis-content

Made glorious 'Summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds, that loured upon our House,
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Now are 'our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised 'arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern 'alarums changed to 'merry meetings,
Our dreadful 'marches to 'delighful measures.

Grim-visaged War hath smoothed his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barbéd steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,-

He capers nimbly, in a lady's chamber,
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

But I, that am not shaped for 'sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am 'rudely stamped, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtailed of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling Nature,
Deformed, unfinished, sent 'before my time
Into this breathing world,-scarce 'half made-up;
And that so lamely and unfashionable,
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of 'peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,-
Unless to see my shadow in the sun
And déscant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a 'lover,
I am determinéd to prove a 'villain.
Plots have I laid, by prophecies, and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence, and the King,
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And, if King Edward be as true and just
As 'I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mewed-up,
About a prophecy; which says-that "G"
Of Edward's heirs the 'murderer shall be.-
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul!

comes.

Here Clarence

The Duke of Clarence is brought in guarded; attended by Brakenbury, the Lieutenant of the Tower.

Clar.

Brother, good day: What means this 'arméd guard
That waits upon your grace?

His majesty,

Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed
This conduct, to convey me to the 'Tower.
Glo. Upon what 'cause?
Clar.
Because my name is 'George.
Glo. Alack, my lord, that fault is none of 'yours;

He should, for 'that, commit your 'godfathers.
But what's the 'matter, Clarence? May I know?
Clar. Yea, Richard, when 'I know; for, I protest,
As 'yet I do not: but, as I can learn,

He hearkens after prophecies and dreams;
And says, a Wizard told him-that, by “G”
His issue disinherited should be.

This, as I learn, and such like toys as these,

Have moved his highness to 'commit me now. Glo. Why, this it is when men are ruled by 'women.'Tis not the 'King that sends you to the Tower; My Lady Grey his 'wife, Clarence-'t is she That tempts him to this harsh extremity. 'We are not safe, Clarence; we are not 'safe. Brakenbury advances :

Brak. I beseech your graces both to pardon me;
His majesty hath straitly given in charge
That 'no man shall have 'private conference,
Of what degree soever, with his brother.
Glo. Even so? An 't please your worship, Brakenbury,
You may 'partake of anything we say:

We speak no 'treason, man;—we say, the King
Is wise and virtuous; and his noble Queen
Well struck in years; fair, and not 'over-jealous ;-
We say that 'Shore's wife hath a pretty foot,

A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a 'passing-pleasing tongue;
And the Queen's 'kindred are made 'gentlefolks :
How say 'you, sir? can you deny all this?
Brak. With this, my lord, myself have naught to do.
I do 'beseech your grace to pardon me;

'Forbear your conference with the noble Duke. Clar. We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. Glo. We are the Queen's 'abjécts, and 'must obey. Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; 'I will deliver you, or else lie* 'for you : Meantime, have patience, brother.

Clar.

I must, perforce. Farewell.

Ex. Clar. Land Brak.

Glo. . . . Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return.
Simple, plain Clarence! I do 'love thee so,
That I will shortly send thy soul to 'heaven,-
If heaven will 'take the present at our hands.
King Edward cannot live; but must not die

Till George be packed with post-horse up to heaven.
I'll in, to urge his hatred 'more to Clarence,
With 'lies well steeled with weighty 'arguments;
And, if I 'fail not in my deep intent,
Clarence hath not 'another day to live:

Which done, Heaven take King Edward to its mercy,
And leave the world for 'me to bustle in!
For, then, I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.
What though I killed her husband, and her father?
The readiest way to make the wench amends,

*Be imprisoned.

Is, to 'become her husband and her father. . .
But yet I run 'before my horse to market:
Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives, and reigns;
When they are 'gone,-'then must I count my gains!

[Exit.

The next Scene brings before us another Street in London. Lady Anne, the widow of Prince Edward, is now following in the funeral procession of the lately murdered King Henry the Sixth.

The corpse of King Henry the Sixth is borne in an open coffin, attended by Gentlemen with halberds to guard it-among them Tressell and Berkeley; Lady Anne being the chief mourner.

The Duke of Gloster contemptuously surveys, at a distance, the mournful procession. Lady Anne speaks :

Anne. Set down, set down your honourable load,—
Whilst I awhile obsequiously* lament

The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.
Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
Be 't lawful that I invocate thy 'ghost,

To hear the lamentations of poor Anne.

O, curséd be the hand that made these wounds!†
Cursed the 'heart, that had the heart to do it!
If ever he have 'wife, let her be made

As miserable by the death of 'him,

As 'I am made by my poor lord, and thee!
Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load.

Gloster advances:

Glo. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.
Anne. What black magician conjures-up this fiend?
Glo. Villains, set-down the corse; or, by Saint Paul,
I'll 'make a corse of him that disobeys!

Gent. My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.
Glo. Unmannered dog! stand 'thou, when 'I command:
Advance thy halberd higher than my breast,

Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot,
And 'spurn upon thee, 'beggar, for thy boldness.
Anne. Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!

[The Bearers set down the coin.

Thou hadst but power o'er his 'mortal body,

His 'soul thou canst not hurt; therefore, be gone!

Glo. Sweet saint! for charity, be not so curst.

Anne. Foul devil! for heaven's sake, hence, and trouble us not!

If thou delight to 'view thy heinous deeds,

Behold this patterns of thy butcheries.

No 'beast so fierce but knows 'some touch of pity.

* With funeral obsequies. † O. R. holes. +0. R. have § Example.