Act 1, Scene 2 — Richard III — Study Shakespeare

The argument Richard intercepts Lady Anne mourning over Henry VI's coffin, admits to murdering her husband and father-in-law, and somehow persuades her to accept his ring.

Enter the corse of King Henry the Sixth, with Halberds to guard it,

Lady Anne, being the mourner, Tressel and Berkeley and other Gentlemen.

First appearance

ANNE

Anne speaks in the elevated rhetoric of grief — formal curses, invocations, passionate denunciations — and then, crucially, begins to slip into Richard's rhythm of verbal sparring. Watch for the moment her language starts to match his: that's when she's losing.

ANNE ≋ verse [formal, ritual grief for her murdered kin]

Set down, set down your honourable load,

If honour may be shrouded in a hearse,

Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament

Th’ untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.

Poor key-cold figure of a holy king,

Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster.

Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood,

Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost

To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,

Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son,

Stabbed by the selfsame hand that made these wounds.

Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life

I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.

O, cursed be the hand that made these holes;

Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it;

Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence.

More direful hap betide that hated wretch

That makes us wretched by the death of thee

Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,

Or any creeping venomed thing that lives.

If ever he have child, abortive be it,

Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,

Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

May fright the hopeful mother at the view,

And that be heir to his unhappiness.

If ever he have wife, let her be made

More miserable by the death of him

Than I am made by my young lord and thee.

Come now towards Chertsey with your holy load,

Taken from Paul’s to be interred there;

And still, as you are weary of this weight,

Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry’s corse.

Gently set down, gently set down your honored burden, if honor can rest in a coffin. While I lament for a moment the untimely death of good King Lancaster. Pale, cold corpse of a holy king, pale ashes of the house of Lancaster. You lifeless remnant of that royal blood, allow me to call upon your ghost to hear the grief of poor Anne, wife to your son Edward who was slaughtered by the same hand that made these wounds. Look, through these wounds that let out your life, I pour the useless tears of my sad eyes. Cursed be the hand that made these holes; cursed the heart that had the cruelty to do it; cursed the blood that let this blood flow out. May worse befall that hated wretch who has made us wretched by your death than anything I could wish on snakes, spiders, or toads or any creeping poisonous creature. If he ever has a child, let it be born deformed and wrong, so ugly and unnatural that it frightens its own mother at first sight, and let it inherit his unhappiness. If he ever has a wife, let her suffer more from his death than I suffer from young Edward and your deaths. Come now to Chertsey with your holy body, taken from Paul's to be buried there, and rest when you grow weary, while I grieve for King Henry's corpse.

Gently set down, gently set down what you're carrying, if respect can be shown in a coffin. While I take a moment to grieve for the early death of good King Lancaster. You pale, cold body of a holy king, the last remains of the house of Lancaster. You lifeless remnant of royal blood—allow me to call on your ghost to hear the sorrow of poor Anne, wife to your murdered son Edward, killed by the same hand that made these wounds. Look at me pouring my useless tears through these wounds that took your life. Cursed be the hand that made these holes. Cursed be the heart cruel enough to do it. Cursed be the blood that spilled this blood. May something worse happen to that hateful man who killed you than I could ever wish on snakes or spiders or any poison-filled creature. If he ever has children, may they be born deformed and wrong, so hideous that their own mother is horrified when she sees them, and may they suffer like he does. If he ever has a wife, may she suffer more from his death than I'm suffering from yours and Edward's. Come now to Chertsey with your holy body, brought here from Paul's to be buried there, and rest when you're tired while I mourn King Henry.

rest your body gently your killer deserves every curse i wish him deformed children and a wife who suffers like i do i'll mourn you forever

"Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life" The wounds in Henry's body are 'windows' that let his life escape. Anne is looking at the actual stab wounds in the corpse she is mourning. The image is visceral and intimate.

"If ever he have child, abortive be it" Anne's curse — that Richard's child be monstrous and frightening — will prove grimly ironic; the historical Richard III's son died young. Shakespeare's Anne is unknowingly prophesying her own marriage.

Why it matters Anne's opening lament establishes the moral stakes: she is pure grief and righteous anger, the play's first witness to Richard's destruction. Everything Richard does in this scene is measured against this baseline of genuine loss.

[_They take up the bier._]

Enter Richard, Duke of Gloucester.

RICHARD [Command. Richard takes control instantly, physically powerful.]

Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.

Stop—all of you—set down that coffin.

Hold it. Put the coffin down. Now.

stop put it down

ANNE ≋ verse [Shock and horror. Anne recognizes evil incarnate.]

What black magician conjures up this fiend

To stop devoted charitable deeds?

What sorcerer has summoned this demon to stop me in my charitable duty?

What the hell? Who brought this monster here to block me?

what demon is this? who called him? why is he here?

RICHARD ≋ verse [Threat and dominance. Richard commands violence.]

Villains, set down the corse or, by Saint Paul,

I’ll make a corse of him that disobeys!

Set the coffin down, all of you, or by Saint Paul I'll make a corpse of anyone who refuses!

Put that coffin down right now or I'll kill whoever doesn't obey!

set it down or i'll kill you i swear it

First appearance

GENTLEMAN

The Gentleman (one of Anne's escorts) speaks only to be intimidated into silence — a function, not a character. His brief intervention shows us how Richard's physical authority works in public.

GENTLEMAN [Attempted defiance, quickly abandoned. The Gentleman tries and fails.]

My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass.

My lord, step aside and let us carry the coffin past.

My lord, move aside so we can get the coffin through.

move aside let the coffin through

RICHARD ≋ verse [Physical threat. Richard crushes resistance with pure menace.]

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.

Rude dog, obey when I command! If you raise that halberd higher than my breast, by Saint Paul I'll strike you to the ground and kick you like a beggar for your boldness!

You rude bastard! When I tell you to stand down, you stand down! Raise that weapon above my shoulder and I'll knock you down and stomp on you!

rude dog obey me raise that weapon and i'll destroy you

[_They set down the bier._]

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne rallies, interpreting Richard's power as demonic.]

What, do you tremble? Are you all afraid?

Alas, I blame you not, for you are mortal,

And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil.

Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell!

Thou hadst but power over his mortal body;

His soul thou canst not have; therefore begone.

Do you tremble? Are you all afraid? I understand—mortal eyes cannot endure to look upon the devil. Go away, you horrible servant of hell! You had power only over his mortal body; his soul you cannot have. So go!

You're shaking? You're all scared? I get it—no human can look at the devil without flinching. Get out of here, you demon! You killed his body but not his soul. Leave!

you're afraid the devil his soul you can't have get out

RICHARD [Richard shifts tone. Now he will persuade rather than command.]

Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst.

Sweet saint, for the sake of charity, don't be so harsh.

Come on, lady. Have some mercy. Show some charity.

sweet saint have mercy be kind

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne's grief peaks. She invokes cosmic justice against Richard.]

Foul devil, for God’s sake, hence, and trouble us not;

For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell,

Filled it with cursing cries and deep exclaims.

If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds,

Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.

O, gentlemen, see, see dead Henry’s wounds

Open their congealed mouths and bleed afresh!

Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity,

For ’tis thy presence that exhales this blood

From cold and empty veins where no blood dwells.

Thy deeds, inhuman and unnatural,

Provokes this deluge most unnatural.

O God, which this blood mad’st, revenge his death!

O earth, which this blood drink’st, revenge his death!

Either heaven with lightning strike the murderer dead,

Or earth gape open wide and eat him quick,

As thou dost swallow up this good King’s blood,

Which his hell-governed arm hath butchered.

Foul devil, for God's sake, leave us. You've turned this happy earth into hell itself, filled it with screams and curses. If you delight in seeing your murders, then look at this—the result of your butchery. Gentlemen, see how King Henry's wounds open and bleed fresh! Blush, you lump of deformity! Your very presence makes this dead blood flow from veins that should be empty. Your deeds are inhuman and monstrous. O God, who made this blood, avenge his death! O earth, who drinks this blood, avenge his death! Strike the murderer dead with lightning, or open up and swallow him whole, just as you swallow up this good king's blood that his hell-governed arm has spilled.

Get out of here, you devil. For God's sake, leave us alone. You've made this beautiful earth into hell, filled with screaming and cursing. If you want to see what you've done, look at this—look at what you murdered. Gentlemen, see—King Henry's wounds are opening and bleeding fresh! How can you not be ashamed, you twisted thing? Your being here makes dead blood pour from corpses that should be dry. What you did is monstrous and against nature. God, who made this blood, take revenge! Earth, who drinks this blood, take revenge! Strike this murderer dead with lightning, or open up and swallow him whole!

get out you've made hell here's your murder king henry's wounds bleed blush shame the blood flows God avenge Earth swallow

"dead Henry's wounds / Open their congealed mouths and bleed afresh" A widespread belief in Shakespeare's era: a murdered victim's wounds would bleed again in the presence of the murderer. This was used as evidence in actual trials. The stage direction likely calls for a visible effect — perhaps a bladder of pig's blood beneath the shroud.

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard invokes moral philosophy to neutralize her curse.]

Lady, you know no rules of charity,

Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses.

Lady, you know not the rules of charity, which teaches us to return good for evil and blessings for curses.

Lady, charity means giving good for bad, not cursing back.

charity good for evil blessings for curses

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne turns the moral argument back on him.]

Villain, thou know’st nor law of God nor man.

No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity.

Villain, you know neither God's law nor man's law. Even the fiercest beast shows some pity.

You don't know God's law or human law. Even wild animals show mercy sometimes.

you know no law no beast refuses pity but you

RICHARD [Richard claims to transcend beast nature. His logic is chilling.]

But I know none, and therefore am no beast.

But I know no pity, and therefore I'm not a beast.

I don't know pity, so that makes me something worse than a beast.

i know no pity im not a beast im worse

ANNE [Anne catches the terrible logic of his admission.]

O wonderful, when devils tell the truth!

How wonderful when devils tell the truth!

Amazing—when devils actually admit what they are!

devils tell truth? rarely

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard shifts to flattery, setting his trap.]

More wonderful when angels are so angry.

Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman,

Of these supposed crimes to give me leave,

By circumstance, but to acquit myself.

Even more wonderful when an angel grows so angry. Perfect lady, allow me to explain myself—let me defend myself against these charges, if you'll hear me.

Even more amazing when an angel is so angry. Perfect lady, let me defend myself. Give me a chance to explain.

angels angry? rare lady listen to me let me explain

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne mirrors his words back at him, but she's starting to engage.]

Vouchsafe, diffused infection of a man,

Of these known evils but to give me leave,

By circumstance, to accuse thy cursed self.

Poisoned man, let me use your own logic to accuse you of these known evils.

Poisoned man, let me throw your own words back at you and accuse you of what everyone knows you've done.

poisoned man let me accuse you with your own words

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard's flattery intensifies. He's winning.]

Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have

Some patient leisure to excuse myself.

You are more beautiful than any tongue can name. Give me a moment to excuse myself.

You're more beautiful than words can say. Just let me explain myself for a minute.

beautiful fairer than words let me explain

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne fires back, matching Richard's courtly language with her own curse.]

Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make

No excuse current but to hang thyself.

Fouler than the human heart could imagine, you cannot offer any excuse except to hang yourself.

You're uglier than anything I can think of. Your only escape is a rope.

fouler than heart can think you only excuse is to hang yourself

RICHARD [Richard's logic turns her own words against her—despair means self-condemnation.]

By such despair I should accuse myself.

By that despair, I would only condemn myself.

That kind of thinking just ends with me condemning myself.

despair condemns me to myself

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne argues despair is justified—he's the criminal.]

And by despairing shalt thou stand excused

For doing worthy vengeance on thyself

That didst unworthy slaughter upon others.

And by despairing, you would be rightly excused—for committing a righteous murder of yourself, after committing unrighteous murder of others.

Yeah, despair would excuse you—because you'd finally be killing the right person. You murdered innocent people, so kill yourself and balance the scales.

despair excuses you kill yourself that's righteous vengeance for your murders

RICHARD [Richard shifts tactics—a simple denial to provoke her further.]

Say that I slew them not?

Say that I did not kill them?

So what if I say I didn't do it?

say i didn't kill them

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne refuses to accept denial—the evidence is the corpses.]

Then say they were not slain.

But dead they are, and, devilish slave, by thee.

Then say they were never killed. But they are dead, and by your wicked hand.

Then I guess they're alive. Except they're not—you killed them, you devil.

then they're alive they're dead devilish slave you killed them

RICHARD [Richard's denial becomes specific—he didn't personally kill her husband.]

I did not kill your husband.

Your husband's death wasn't by my hand.

I didn't kill your husband.

not me i didnt do it

ANNE [Anne seizes on Richard's wordplay—if he didn't kill him, the husband is alive.]

Why then he is alive.

Then he must be alive.

So he's still living?

so hes not dead?

RICHARD [Richard corrects—he admits the killing but assigns blame elsewhere.]

Nay, he is dead, and slain by Edward’s hand.

No, he is dead, and murdered by Edward's hand.

No, he's dead—but Edward did the killing, not me.

he's dead slain by edward's hand not mine

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne calls him a liar directly—she has a witness, Queen Margaret.]

In thy foul throat thou liest. Queen Margaret saw

Thy murd’rous falchion smoking in his blood,

The which thou once didst bend against her breast,

But that thy brothers beat aside the point.

You lie in your foul throat. Queen Margaret saw your bloody sword smoking in his blood. You were about to turn that same sword against her breast, except your brothers knocked it aside.

You're lying through your teeth. Queen Margaret saw your sword still bloody from his blood. You were about to stab her too, but your brothers stopped you.

you lie queen margaret saw your sword smoking in his blood you'd have killed her too

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard blames Margaret—she slandered him and made him lose control.]

I was provoked by her sland’rous tongue,

That laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders.

I was provoked by her slanderous tongue, which placed their guilt upon my innocent shoulders.

She provoked me with her lies, blaming me for things I didn't do.

her slander provoked me she blamed me for things i didn't do

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne rejects his excuse—his mind is the problem.]

Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind,

That never dream’st on aught but butcheries.

Didst thou not kill this King?

No, you were provoked by your own bloody mind, which never dreams of anything but murder. Did you not kill this king?

It's your mind that provokes you—the one that thinks about nothing but killing people. And you murdered this king, didn't you?

your bloody mind provokes you never dreams but butcheries you killed the king

RICHARD [Richard admits it plainly—a shocking moment of honesty.]

I grant ye.

I admit it.

Yeah, I did.

i grant ye i did it

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne shifts from accusing to grieving—eulogizing the dead king.]

Dost grant me, hedgehog? Then, God grant me too

Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed.

O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous.

Do you admit it, hedgehog? Then God grant me too—that you be damned for that wicked deed. Oh, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous.

You admit it, you deformed thing? God, I hope you're damned for that. He was kind and good, and you destroyed him.

you admit it hedgehog God damn you he was gentle mild virtuous

RICHARD [Richard claims credit for sending the king to heaven—a reversal.]

The better for the King of Heaven that hath him.

All the better for the King of Heaven that he now has him.

Heaven's better off having him—I sent him there.

better for heaven he's there now i sent him

ANNE [Anne condemns him to hell—a final, absolute rejection.]

He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come.

He is in heaven, where you will never come.

He's in heaven. You'll never get there.

he's in heaven you'll never come there

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard flips the insult—he helped the king achieve his best state.]

Let him thank me that holp to send him thither,

For he was fitter for that place than earth.

Let him thank me for helping to send him there, because he was better suited to that place than to this earth.

He should thank me for sending him there—he was too good for this world anyway.

thank me i sent him there he was fitter for that place than earth

ANNE [Anne's final condemnation—hell is his only fit place.]

And thou unfit for any place but hell.

And you are unfit for any place but hell.

You belong in hell and nowhere else.

you unfit for any place but hell

RICHARD [Richard teases—he knows somewhere else, and wants Anne to guess.]

Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it.

Yes, there is one other place, if you will allow me to name it.

There is one other place—if you want to hear where.

one place else if you'll hear me name it

ANNE [Anne suggests the worst prison she can imagine.]

Some dungeon.

A dungeon.

A prison.

a dungeon

RICHARD [brazen seduction over her husband's corpse]

Your bed-chamber.

Your bedchamber.

Your bed.

your bedchamber

Why it matters The single most audacious line in the scene — and possibly the most audacious pickup line in all of Shakespeare. Delivered over a corpse. The silence that follows must be considerable.

ANNE [Anne invokes a curse on the bed—no peace there.]

Ill rest betide the chamber where thou liest!

May ill rest befall the chamber where you lie!

I curse that bedroom—may you never sleep there in peace.

ill rest betide the chamber where you lie

RICHARD [Richard seizes on her phrasing—she said 'where you lie,' not where anyone lies.]

So will it, madam, till I lie with you.

That will be so, madam, until I lie with you.

It will be—until I'm in your bed.

ill rest will come til i lie with you

ANNE [Anne's reply is ambiguous—not agreement, but not a clear no.]

I hope so.

I hope you do.

i hope so

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard shifts tone deliberately—stopping the wordplay to shift to philosophy and reason.]

I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne,

To leave this keen encounter of our wits,

And fall something into a slower method:

Is not the causer of the timeless deaths

Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward,

As blameful as the executioner?

I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, let us abandon this sharp contest of words and move toward a slower method of discussion. Tell me: is not the one who ordered the deaths of these Plantagenets—Henry and Edward—as much to blame as the one who executed them?

I know it. But Lady Anne, let's stop this word fight and talk slower. Here's a real question: the person who ordered the murders—isn't he as guilty as the person who carried them out?

i know so but stop this word fight who ordered the deaths who executed them both guilty?

ANNE [Anne identifies him as both—the cause and the effect of the murders.]

Thou wast the cause and most accursed effect.

You are the cause and most accursed effect.

You're both—you ordered it and you did it.

you caused it you did it accursed effect

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard's seduction accelerates—blaming her beauty for all his crimes.]

Your beauty was the cause of that effect:

Your beauty, that did haunt me in my sleep

To undertake the death of all the world,

So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom.

Your beauty was the cause of that effect. Your beauty, which haunted me in my sleep and compelled me to undertake the death of the entire world, so that I might live one hour in your sweet bosom.

You caused it all. Your beauty haunted me, made me kill everyone, just for one hour with you.

your beauty haunted me in my sleep made me murder the whole world for one hour in your arms

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne threatens to destroy her own beauty rather than believe his lie.]

If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide,

These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks.

If I believed that, I tell you, murderer, these nails would rend that beauty from my own cheeks.

If I thought that was true, I'd scratch my own face off. I'm not believing that lie.

if i believed that homicide i'd rend beauty from my cheeks

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard claims he would protect her beauty—and that she is his everything.]

These eyes could not endure that beauty’s wrack;

You should not blemish it if I stood by.

As all the world is cheered by the sun,

So I by that; it is my day, my life.

These eyes could not endure your beauty's ruin. You should not blemish it if I stood beside you. As all the world is made cheerful by the sun, so am I by that beauty. It is my day, my life.

I couldn't stand to see you hurt yourself. I'd protect you. You're my whole world—like the sun is the world's light, you're mine.

i couldn't bear to see you blemish your beauty you're my sun my day my life

ANNE [Anne invokes darkness and death against him.]

Black night o’ershade thy day, and death thy life.

May black night overshadow your day, and death take your life.

I wish darkness on you and death.

black night shade your day death take your life

RICHARD [Richard forbids her to curse herself and claims she is both day and night to him.]

Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both.

Don't curse yourself, fair creature. You contain both.

Don't curse yourself, beautiful woman. You're both of those things yourself.

dont curse yourself you ARE both night and day

ANNE [Anne mocks his vulnerability—wishing she could be so cold.]

I would I were, to be revenged on thee.

I wish I were, so I could take revenge on you.

I'd love to be those things to destroy you.

id love to hurt you so bad

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard frames revenge as impossible—because he loves her.]

It is a quarrel most unnatural,

To be revenged on him that loveth thee.

It's completely wrong to try to get revenge on someone who loves you.

It's unnatural to seek revenge on someone who loves you.

its wrong to hurt someone who loves you

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne insists her revenge is moral and just.]

It is a quarrel just and reasonable,

To be revenged on him that killed my husband.

No, it is a quarrel just and reasonable—to take revenge on the one who murdered my husband.

It's just and right—because you murdered my husband.

quarrel just and reasonable revenged on who killed husband

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard claims he killed her husband to get her a better one—himself.]

He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband,

Did it to help thee to a better husband.

He who took your husband from you, lady, did so to help you obtain a better husband.

The one who took your husband was doing you a favor—getting you someone better.

took your husband to help you get a better one

ANNE [Anne denies it absolutely—her dead husband was the best.]

His better doth not breathe upon the earth.

There is no one better living on earth.

No one better exists than him.

no one better breathes on earth

RICHARD [Richard claims he loves her more than her dead husband could.]

He lives that loves thee better than he could.

There is someone alive who loves you more than he ever could.

Someone alive right now loves you more than he ever did.

someone alive loves you more than he did

ANNE [Anne demands he name this person.]

Name him.

Who?

name him

RICHARD [Richard answers with his royal house name—a self-identification as a Plantagenet.]

Plantagenet.

Richard of the House of Plantagenet.

plantagenet

ANNE [Anne recognizes that Plantagenet was her husband's name too.]

Why, that was he.

Why, that was him.

That was my husband.

that was he

RICHARD [Richard claims he's the same name but different—and better.]

The selfsame name, but one of better nature.

The same name, but of a better nature.

The same name—but I'm better.

same name but better nature

ANNE [Anne demands proof—where is this better Plantagenet?]

Where is he?

Show me.

where is he

RICHARD [Richard points to himself—and Anne spits at him.]

Here.

Right here.

here

[_She spits at him._]

RICHARD [feigned hurt at her contempt]

Why dost thou spit at me?

Why are you spitting at me?

Why are you spitting on me like that?

why spit at me

ANNE [Anne wishes her spit were poison—deadly.]

Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake.

I wish it were deadly poison, for your sake.

I wish it were poison, just for you.

i wish it was poison for you

RICHARD [Richard transforms her spit into a compliment—it comes from a beautiful source.]

Never came poison from so sweet a place.

Poison has never come from such a beautiful source.

Poison has never come from anything so lovely.

poison never came from something so beautiful

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne rejects his flattery violently—his presence corrupts her.]

Never hung poison on a fouler toad.

Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.

Poison has never hung on something so ugly as a toad. Get out of my sight! You're poisoning my vision.

Poison has never been on anything as foul as you. Get away! You're corrupting what I see.

poison on a toad is cleaner than you get out youre infecting me

RICHARD [Richard turns her words into love language—her eyes have infected him.]

Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

Your beautiful eyes have infected me.

Your eyes, lovely lady, have poisoned me.

your eyes sweet lady have infected me

ANNE [Anne invokes a mythical weapon against him—a basilisk's deadly gaze.]

Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead!

I wish my eyes were basilisk eyes that could kill you with a look!

I wish my eyes were basilisks that could kill you just by looking at you!

i wish my eyes could kill you with a look

RICHARD ≋ verse [feigning tearful vulnerability to win her]

I would they were, that I might die at once;

For now they kill me with a living death.

Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,

Shamed their aspects with store of childish drops.

These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,

No, when my father York and Edward wept

To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made

When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him;

Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,

Told the sad story of my father’s death,

And twenty times made pause to sob and weep,

That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks

Like trees bedashed with rain. In that sad time

My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;

And what these sorrows could not thence exhale,

Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.

I never sued to friend nor enemy;

My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word;

But now thy beauty is proposed my fee,

My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.

I wish they were, so I could die at once; Because they're killing me now with a slow death. Your eyes have drawn tears from my eyes, Shamed them with streams of childish tears. These eyes have never shed a regretful tear, Not even when my father York and Edward cried Hearing the pitiful moan that Rutland made When dark-faced Clifford shook his sword at him; And not when your fierce warrior father, like a child, Told the sad story of my father's death, And paused twenty times to sob and weep, So that everyone standing by had wet their cheeks Like trees drenched with rain. In that sad time My manly eyes scorned to shed even a humble tear; And what these sorrows couldn't bring out of me, Your beauty has brought out and blinded me with weeping. I never asked anyone, friend or enemy; My tongue could never learn gentle, soothing words; But now your beauty is what I'm seeking, My proud heart begs you, and drives my tongue to speak.

I wish they could, so I'd just die right now. Because right now they're killing me slowly. Your eyes have made tears pour from mine, Shamed them with childish tears. These eyes have never cried from regret, Not even when my father York and Edward wept Hearing Rutland's pitiful screams When dark-faced Clifford threatened him with his sword; And not when your tough warrior father, like a child, Told the heartbreaking story of my father's death, And stopped twenty times to cry, So that everyone there had tears streaming down their faces Like trees in a rainstorm. In that terrible time My manly eyes refused to shed even one humble tear; But what sorrow couldn't make me do, Your beauty has done - it's blinded me with tears. I've never begged anyone in my life, friend or foe; My tongue has never been able to speak soft, flattering words; But now your beauty makes me want to win your heart, My stubborn pride is begging you, and it's forcing my tongue to speak these words.

wish i could just die right now you're killing me slowly your eyes made me cry for the first time i never wept even when my dad died but you broke me i never begged anyone before now im begging you

[_She looks scornfully at him._]

RICHARD ≋ verse [performing noble self-sacrifice to disarm her]

Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made

For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.

If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,

Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword,

Which if thou please to hide in this true breast

And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

And humbly beg the death upon my knee,

Don't teach your lips to show scorn - they were made for kissing, lady, not for contempt. If your revengeful heart cannot forgive, look, here I give you this sharp-pointed sword. If you want to hide it in my true breast and release the soul that adores you, I'll lay myself naked to the deadly blow and humbly beg for death on my knees.

Don't make your lips show scorn like that - they're made for kissing, not for showing contempt. If you can't forgive me, here, take this sword. If you want to stab it into my heart and kill me, I'll lay down and beg you on my knees to do it.

stop that scorn your lips are for kissing take the sword kill me i'll beg you

[_He kneels and lays his breast open; she offers at it with his

sword._]

RICHARD ≋ verse [urgently confessing, daring her to strike]

Nay, do not pause, for I did kill King Henry—

But ’twas thy beauty that provoked me.

Nay, now dispatch; ’twas I that stabbed young Edward—

But ’twas thy heavenly face that set me on.

No, don't hesitate - for I did kill King Henry, but it was your beauty that drove me to it. Go ahead, kill me; I did stab young Edward, but your heavenly face made me do it.

No, don't stop. Yes, I killed King Henry - but your beauty made me do it. Do it now; I also stabbed young Edward - but your beautiful face drove me to that.

i killed henry but your beauty made me i stabbed edward but your face made me kill me now

[_She falls the sword._]

RICHARD [seductive ultimatum, daring her choice]

Take up the sword again, or take up me.

Pick up the sword again, or pick me up instead.

Either pick up the sword and use it, or help me up.

either way kill me or help me pick one

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne cannot do it—she lets the sword fall, cannot execute even her enemy.]

Arise, dissembler. Though I wish thy death,

I will not be thy executioner.

Get up, you faker. Though I want you dead, I won't be the one to kill you.

Get up, you liar. I want you dead, but I'm not going to do it myself.

get up fake i wont kill you even though i want to

RICHARD [Richard immediately offers to kill himself if she demands it—inverting her power.]

Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

Then tell me to kill myself, and I'll do it.

Then order me to kill myself, and I will.

tell me to die and i will

ANNE [Anne reveals she has already wished him dead—a moment of dark humor.]

I have already.

Already did.

i have already

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard reframes her curse as passionate, not deadly—and uses it to extend their entanglement.]

That was in thy rage.

Speak it again, and even with the word,

This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love,

Shall for thy love kill a far truer love.

To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.

That was said in anger. Speak it again calmly, and as you speak, this hand—which for your love killed your love—shall for your love kill a far truer love. You will be responsible for both deaths.

You were just angry when you said that. But if you really mean it, my hand that killed your husband will kill me too—and that's on you. You'll be guilty of both deaths.

that was rage speak again this hand that killed your love shall kill true love you accessory

ANNE [Anne shifts from anger to vulnerability—she wants proof, not performance.]

I would I knew thy heart.

I wish I knew what your heart really wants.

I wish I could know what's really in your heart.

i wish i knew your heart

RICHARD [Richard claims his words are true—they are his heart's speech.]

’Tis figured in my tongue.

It is written in my tongue—all I've spoken is true.

Every word I've said is true. My words are my heart.

it is figured in my tongue

ANNE [Anne suspects both—his words and his heart—are false.]

I fear me both are false.

I'm afraid both your heart and tongue are false.

I think both are lies.

i think theyre both lies

RICHARD [Richard claims that if he's lying, then no man has ever told the truth.]

Then never was man true.

Then no man has ever been honest.

Then no man has ever been truthful.

then no guy was ever truthful

ANNE [Anne finally yields—she tells him to put away the sword. The turning point.]

Well, well, put up your sword.

Alright, put away your weapon.

Fine, sheathe your sword.

ok put away your sword

RICHARD [Richard confirms—her agreement to put up the sword means peace between them.]

Say then my peace is made.

Then say you've made peace with me.

Then say you've forgiven me.

say youve forgiven me

ANNE [Anne refuses to commit—postponing the answer, maintaining some control.]

That shalt thou know hereafter.

You'll find out later.

You'll learn about that later.

youll find out later

RICHARD [Richard's crucial question—will she allow him hope?]

But shall I live in hope?

But can I keep hoping?

But can I hope for that?

can i hope?

ANNE [Anne's answer is ambiguous—everyone has hope. Is she saying yes or avoiding the question?]

All men, I hope, live so.

I hope all men live with hope.

I suppose most people live hoping for better things.

everyone hopes for something

RICHARD [Richard makes his move—offering her a ring, the symbol of betrothal.]

Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

Please accept this ring.

Will you wear this ring?

wear this ring

ANNE [Anne tries to maintain boundaries—taking is not giving consent.]

To take is not to give.

Accepting the ring doesn't mean I'm giving anything back.

Taking your ring doesn't mean I'm giving anything.

taking isnt giving

[_He places the ring on her hand._]

RICHARD ≋ verse [Richard uses the ring as a metaphor—it encircles her finger as he encircles her heart.]

Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger;

Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;

Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.

And if thy poor devoted servant may

But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,

Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.

See how this ring wraps around your finger—that's how your heart wraps around my heart. Wear this ring and know you hold my heart. If your devoted servant can ask one favor from your gracious hand, that will make me eternally happy.

Notice how the ring circles your finger—your heart circles mine the same way. Wear both, knowing you hold my heart. If you'd grant one wish from a devoted servant like me, I'd be the happiest man forever.

my ring circles your finger like you circle my heart grant me one wish and im happy forever

ANNE [Anne asks what the favor is—she's still cautious but engaged.]

What is it?

What do you want?

what is it

RICHARD ≋ verse [pressing his advantage with smooth courtesy]

That it may please you leave these sad designs

To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,

And presently repair to Crosby Place;

Where, after I have solemnly interred

At Chertsey monastery this noble King,

And wet his grave with my repentant tears,

I will with all expedient duty see you.

For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,

Grant me this boon.

That you leave off these sad mourning duties—let me, who has most cause for sorrow, take that burden. Come to Crosby Place. After I've properly buried this noble king at Chertsey monastery and bathed his grave with my repentant tears, I will with all speed come see you. For reasons I cannot explain, I beg this favor of you.

Stop mourning and let me handle it. I'll bury the king with tears and respect. Come wait for me at Crosby Place. I'll come get you as soon as I can.

leave sad designs to me with cause repair to crosby place i'll inter this noble king with repentant tears then see you

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne agrees—and says she's pleased to see him repentant. A moment of dramatic irony: she's fooled.]

With all my heart, and much it joys me too

To see you are become so penitent.

Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.

With all my heart, and I am very glad to see you have become so penitent. Tressel and Berkeley, come along with me.

Yes, gladly. I'm so happy you've changed. You two, let's go.

all my heart glad to see you penitent tressel berkeley go with me

🎭 Dramatic irony Anne says she's 'glad to see you so penitent' — but we watched Richard rehearse this exact performance in 1-1 and announce that he will 'I'll have her, but I will not keep her long.' Her relief is the setup for her future suffering.

RICHARD [Richard's final manipulation—asking her to say goodbye, binding her closer.]

Bid me farewell.

Speak farewell to me.

Just tell me you're saying goodbye.

say bye

ANNE ≋ verse [Anne's final words—ambiguous, withholding, yet she's consented to his plan.]

’Tis more than you deserve;

But since you teach me how to flatter you,

Imagine I have said farewell already.

It is more than you deserve. But since you've taught me how to flatter you, imagine I've already said farewell.

You don't deserve it. But you've made me good at your game now, so pretend I already said it.

more than deserve but you taught me how to flatter you imagine i said it already

[_Exeunt Lady Anne, Tressel and Berkeley._]

RICHARD [Richard takes command again—ordering the corpse taken away.]

Sirs, take up the corse.

Men, pick up the body.

Soldiers, pick up the corpse.

grab the corpse lets move

GENTLEMAN [The Gentleman confirms the destination—Chertsey, as agreed.]

Towards Chertsey, noble lord?

Toward Chertsey, my lord?

Should we take it to Chertsey, my lord?

chertsey?

RICHARD [Richard changes the plan—to White Friars, not Chertsey. He's free from his agreement now.]

No, to White Friars; there attend my coming.

No, to White Friars. Wait for me there.

No, take it to White Friars and wait for me there.

white friars wait for me

[_Exeunt Halberds and Gentlemen with corse._]

RICHARD ≋ verse [triumphant, gloating disbelief at his conquest]

Was ever woman in this humour wooed?

Was ever woman in this humour won?

I’ll have her, but I will not keep her long.

What, I that killed her husband and his father,

To take her in her heart’s extremest hate,

With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,

The bleeding witness of her hatred by,

Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me,

And I no friends to back my suit at all,

But the plain devil and dissembling looks?

And yet to win her, all the world to nothing!

Ha!

Hath she forgot already that brave prince,

Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,

Stabbed in my angry mood at Tewksbury?

A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,

Framed in the prodigality of nature,

Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,

The spacious world cannot again afford.

And will she yet abase her eyes on me,

That cropped the golden prime of this sweet prince,

And made her widow to a woeful bed?

On me, whose all not equals Edward’s moiety?

On me, that halt and am misshapen thus?

My dukedom to a beggarly denier,

I do mistake my person all this while!

Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,

Myself to be a marvellous proper man.

I’ll be at charges for a looking-glass,

And entertain a score or two of tailors

To study fashions to adorn my body.

Since I am crept in favour with myself,

I will maintain it with some little cost.

But first I’ll turn yon fellow in his grave,

And then return lamenting to my love.

Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,

That I may see my shadow as I pass.

Was there ever a woman courted in this mood? Was there ever a woman won in this mood? I'll have her, but I won't keep her long. I, who killed her husband and his father, somehow won her when she hated me completely, with curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, the murdered body before her, with God and her conscience against me, with no friends to support me - only the devil and my lying face - yet I won her anyway! Has she forgotten so soon that brave prince Edward, her lord, whom I stabbed in anger just three months ago at Tewksbury? A sweeter and lovelier man, shaped with nature's bounty, young, brave, wise, surely royal - the world will never see his equal again. And will she still look at me, I who destroyed this golden prince and made her a widow to a miserable bed? At me, whose entire wealth isn't worth half of Edward's? At me, who am lame and misshapen? My title is barely worth anything, and I'm fooling myself! Upon my life, she must see me as a remarkably handsome man, even though I cannot. I'll buy myself a looking glass and hire a couple dozen tailors to study fashions to decorate my body. Since I've come to like myself, I'll spend money on it. But first I'll arrange the burial for that king, and then I'll return to court my love. Shine on, fair sun, until I've bought a mirror so I can see my reflection as I walk.

Has any woman ever been won like this? Has any woman ever agreed like this? I'll have her, but I won't keep her long. Me, who killed her husband and father - somehow I won her even though she hated me completely, with curses and tears and his murdered body right there, with God and her conscience against me, no friends to help me - just the devil and my lies - and I still won. She's already forgotten Edward, that prince she loved, who I stabbed three months ago? He was so much better than me - young, brave, wise, noble - nobody like him will ever exist again. And she's actually going to look at me after I destroyed him and ruined her life? Me, whose wealth isn't even worth half of his? Me, who's lame and twisted like this? I should be worth nothing, but somehow I'm fooling myself. She must actually think I'm attractive, even though I can't see it. I'll buy a mirror and hire tailors to dress me up fancy. Since I'm starting to like myself, I'll spend money on it. But first I've got to bury the king, then I'll come back to court her. Keep shining, sun, until I've bought my mirror so I can see myself as I pass by.

did i really win her i killed her husband i killed her father yet she agreed with only devil and lies i won she forgot edward already that great man i stabbed he was so much better she's looking at me now i must be better-looking than i think i'll get a mirror hire tailors make fancy clothes then bury the king and court her

[_Exit._]

The Reckoning

This is perhaps the most audacious seduction in all of Shakespeare. Richard is wooing a widow over the corpse of the king he killed — while also being the man who killed her husband. By the end, Anne has accepted his ring. When he's alone, Richard can barely believe it himself, and that astonishment is the most honest thing we see him express. The audience is left asking the same question Richard asks: how did that work?

If this happened today…

A man shows up at his ex-girlfriend's father's funeral — a father he helped destroy in a hostile takeover. He intercepts her at the graveside, admits he orchestrated the collapse but insists he did it for love of her, then proceeds to have an argument so stylized and controlled that she ends up accepting his business card. He turns to the camera afterward, genuinely baffled: 'I just did that with nothing but my own nerve, with the body right there, and it worked.' This is the Richard III courtship. It should be impossible. It almost is.

Continue to 1.3 →