Where
Clarence
is
concerned,
Richard
proudly
-
though,
in
the eyes
of
history,
quite
unjustifiably
-
claims
responsibility
for
his brother's
downfall.
We
cannot
doubt
that
he
would
have
been
capable of
such
villainy
had
the
need
arisen;
but
Clarence
saved
him
the
trouble. He
had
always
been
his
own
worst
enemy
and,
as
we
have
seen,
brought his
destruction
very
largely
on
himself.
There
had
indeed
been
a prophecy,
much
talked
about
at
the
time,
that
King
Edward's
heirs would
be
disinherited
by
a
man
whose
name
began
with
the
letter
G -
the
Duke's
Christian
name
was
George
-
but
there
were
far
stronger reasons
than
this
for
the
King
to
move
against
him.
Another
inaccuracy
-
though
perhaps
a
relatively
unimportant
one
-
is
Shakespeare's
introduction
here
(and
again
in
scene
iv)
of
Sir
Robert
Brackenbury.
Bracken
bury
was
appointed
Lieutenant
of
the
Tower
only
in
1483;
he
was never
responsible
for
Clarence,
and
was
to
play
no
part
in
his
death.
The
dating
of
scene
iii
poses
a
major
problem;
indeed,
it
is
only
if we
accept
the
appearance
of
old
Queen
Margaret
of
Anjou
as
a
historical fact
that
we
can
date
it
at
all,
and
even
then
our
conclusion
can never
be
more
than
approximate.
Margaret
was
taken
prisoner
after Tewkesbury
and
spent
the
next
four
years
in
semi-captivity,
until
her ransom
by
Louis
XI
in
1475;
this
is
therefore
the
latest
date
at
which she
could,
even
theoretically,
have
shown
herself
at
the
English
court. But
would
she
ever
have
been
permitted
to
do
so?
It
seems
unlikely. The
mystery
deepens
in
lines
167-9,
when
Ri
chard
asks
her
Were
you
not
banished
on
pain
of
death?
to
which
she
answers
I
was,
but
I
do
find
more
pain
in
banishment
Than
death
can
yield
me
here
by
my
abode.
Margaret,
as
we
know
(and
as
Shakespeare
himself
surely
knew)
was never
banished.
The
fact
that
he
brings
her
back
again
in
IV.
iv,
after
the death of the Princes and therefore also after her own - for she died in
1482
- makes it virtually certain that he is using her presence in both scenes purely for dramatic effect and with no thought for historic truth.
The fourth and last scene of Act I is given over to the death of Clarence. The Duke first tells of a dream:
Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wrecks;
Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalu'd jewels,
All scattered in the bottom of the sea . . .
I pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood
With that sour ferryman which poets write of,
Unto the Kingdom of perpetual night. . .
Then came wandering by
A shadow like an angel, with bright hair
Dabbled in blood; and he shriek'd out aloud,
'Clarence is come: false, fleeting, perjur'd Clarence,
That stabb'd me in the field by Tewkesbury!'
and later pleads for his life with the two murderers, one determined, the other conscience-stricken. It is a superb scene, full both of exquisite poetry and of high drama; only as a piece of history can it be faulted. At the end of scene iii we saw Richard giving his instructions to the two hired murderers; here they speak of him time and again as their paymaster and indeed identify him as such to their incredulous victim. Shakespearean audiences were therefore left: in no possible doubt that, in addition to all his other crimes, Richard had been guilty of fratricide — which, as we know, he was not. The story of the butt of malmsey
1
is of course retained - clearly it was too good to miss - but the actual immersion occurs, disappointingly for audiences but blessedly for the actor concerned, off-stage.
The only problem that Shakespeare has to face in advancing the fratricide theory is that already, at his trial in January
1478,
Clarence had been condemned to execution. He deals with this in the first scene of Act II, when Richard reveals his brother's death to the dying King
1. See p. 324 and fn
.
Edward
and
his
court.
The
King
objects
that
'the
order
was
revers'd', to
which
Richard
replies:
But
he,
poor
man,
by
your
first
order
died,
And
that
a
winged
Mercury
did
bear;
Some
tardy
cripple
bore
the
countermand,
That
came
too
lag
to
see
him
buried.
The
'tardy
cripple'
was,
we
are
surely
to
assume,
a
wry
joke
against himself.
Historically,
there
was
never
any
question
of
a
reprieve;
this passage
is
sheer
dramatic
invention,
designed
to
pin
the
blame
more firmly
on
the
Duke
of
Gloucester
than
would
otherwise
have
been possible.
It
also
enables
Richard
to
injure
the
King
-
who,
having negotiated
a
general
reconciliation
between
his
family
and
the
Wood
villes,
was
expecting
to
die
happy.
Now,
on
hearing
the
news,
he
is consumed
with
guilt
and
terrified
of
divine
retribution.
Both
the
guilt
and
the
sickness
are
Shakespearean
inventions.
Apart from
being
somewhat
overweight,
at
the
time
of
Clarence's
death Edward
seems
to
have
been
in
excellent
health;
and
it
is
doubtful whether
the
removal
of
his
insufferable
brother
would
have
caused
him more
than
the
faintest
twinge
of
conscience.
He
was
in
fact
to
survive Clarence
more
than
five
years
-
a
fact
which
necessitates
some
serious telescoping
in
scene
ii.
This
scene
opens
in
1478,
with
Clarence's
two small
children
-
Margaret
Plantagenet
was
in
fact
five
years
old
at
the time,
her
brother
Edward
three
-
being
told
by
their
grandmother
of their
father's
death,
then
leaps
without
warning
to
1483
with
the widowed
Queen,
'her
hair
about
her
ears',
entering
with
her
brother Rivers
and
her
son
Dorset
to
bewail
that
of
her
husband.
The
ensuing show
of
what
can
be
described
only
as
competitive
lamentation
-
a contest
won
hands
down
by
the
old
Duchess
of
York,
who
succeeds in
simultaneously
mourning
not
only
the
late
King
but
a
husband
who has
been
in
his
grave
for
twenty-three
years
and
another
son
who
has been
dead
for
five
-
is
interrupted
by
the
entry
of
Richard,
Buckingham and
others.
Buckingham
suggests
the
departure
of
a
delegation
for Ludlow
to
fetch
the
new
young
King;
Rivers
agrees;
and
R
ichard
and Buckingham
are
left
alone
to
make
their
plans.