Richard III – Richard (Gloucester)

    Richard III – Richard (Gloucester)

    Shakespeare – Men

    Act 1, sc.1, lines 1-31

    Now is the winter of our discontent
    Made glorious summer by this sun of York,
    And all the clouds that lowered 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 delightful measures.
    Grim-visaged war hath smoothed his wrinkled front,
    And now, instead of mounting barbed 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 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.