Richard III, Act I, Scene 1

In this famous passage, Richard, Duke of Gloucester (and Future King Richard III) appears on stage as a wicked-looking, ugly hunchback. He is alone, but he speaks in a monologue and so reveals what is in his mind and heart. Richard's brother, Edward, has just won an important battle in the Wars of the Roses and so he is now King Edward IV. Now everyone is celebrating instead of fighting, and many are turning their thoughts from war to romance. But Richard, being so deformed and ugly, can take no pleasure in these things. The only thing that he can hope for is to indulge his ambition to rule as king. He has no scruples about the methods he must use to do this. Already he is plotting. He has passed on to the king annonymous messages that he hopes will bring about the death of Clarence (Richard's elder brother and Edward's younger brother). With Clarence out of the way, Richard will be next in line to inherit the crown of England.

London. A street.

Enter GLOUCESTER

Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York; sun of York - King Edward IV
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house house - the House of York
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 delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded 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 stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, 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 spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels 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 mew'd up,
About a prophecy, which says that 'G'
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here
Clarence comes.

Enter Clarence


http://www.online-literature.com/shakespeare/