Richard III Betrayal Quotes

Richard utterly delights in the wickedness of his scheme to betray Clarence. Here he jokes that he's doing Clarence a favor by sending him to heaven.

Richard cleverly reminds his listeners that Clarence originally betrayed the family by going over to the Lancastrian side when he married Isabella Warwick (sister to Anne, whom Richard will later marry). Richard brings this point up slyly by saying Clarence betrayed his father-in-law, the Lancastrian supporter, to come back to York. If we were gullible, we might think Richard was implying how much Clarence sacrificed for the family, but he's really undermining Clarence by pointing out his frailty. Of course, the undercurrent of this entire commentary is that Richard has betrayed Clarence, who waits in the Tower even as Richard speaks. Richard feels none of the outrage about betrayal that he suggests others should feel.

Up to this point, Anne has done an admirable job telling Richard to get lost. Her failing comes when Richard makes the argument that, although she wishes him dead, she can't kill him herself. Her acceptance of his ring is strange. She is willing to take it but unwilling to give her love. Through this act, Anne not only betrays her murdered husband and father-in-law, but also herself. The reasons must be deeper than just her unwillingness to kill. Why else would she submit so meekly?

Queen Elizabeth learns that Richard has betrayed her family, causing her to predict some serious problems in the future. Elizabeth realizes Richard's move is the first of many that will work to destroy her whole house and life. Richard's betrayal is against her family, but she feels it for all of England.

Betrayal is a complicated matter. While Hastings hates the friends and family of the new King Edward (thinking they're complicit in his imprisonment), he can't betray Prince Edward. It's more important for him to honor the throne, and its rightful acquisition, than to follow his own pride, even though he knows he might be risking his life.

Buckingham is eager and willing to show Richard how well he can deceive and dissemble, but he doesn't seem to think about whether Richard will be loyal in return. Buckingham has heard how ready Richard was to kill his old friend Hastings, and he yet seems to have no fear about putting himself in Hastings's old position as confidante.

Richard makes himself out to be the victim of betrayal by manipulation here.

Buckingham is smart enough to realize he's out of Richard's favor (and what that might mean). But why is he so surprised when his service is repaid with contempt? We have to wonder why so many characters close to Richard fail to recognize the patterns in his behavior, namely the way he uses people then has them beheaded. Is it that these folks think they're impervious to Richard's betrayals? Do they think they're so close to Richard that they, unlike the others, really know his heart?

Stanley is under suspicion, and he chooses to take a great risk by leaving George Stanley with Richard. Richard, however, is over his manipulative games. Everyone else has been surprised by his betrayal, but both Stanley and Richard know their relationship is probably a hair's breadth from over. It seems the end might be near, as Richard is putting less and less effort into covering his quick suspicions and habit of betrayal. Is it really worth it for Stanley to bet his son's life on Richard's whims?

Richard's note about conscience here will echo later in one of the most famous speeches of all time. As Hamlet ponders "To be or not to be," he decides, "Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, / And thus the native hue of resolution / Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought / and enterprises of great pitch and moment / With this regard their currents turn awry." (Hamlet, 3.1)

Here Richard awakens from his horrible dream before the final battle. He takes pause, realizing his conscience is weighing heavy on him. For a brief moment, Richard is like Hamlet, unsure of who he is or what he wants. But he quickly gets over all the metaphysical pondering and decides he won't be distracted by conscience – he'll stick with his instincts. Hamlet, on the other hand, allows conscience to hamper the strong resolution of the moment. It's a neat comparison: we get a glimpse of what Hamlet would be like if he were more violently self-assured, or what Richard would be like if he were a bit softer and more reflective.

For the first time, Richard has betrayed himself, revealing that he's no longer as certain or comfortable about who he is. This sudden bout of conscience, brief though it is, is a mark that Richard's security is over. He no longer has the confidence in his pure villainy that he once did.