"Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,
             That I may see my shadow as I pass..."
             Richard loves shadows. He mentions them constantly. They are a reminder of who he is. Every time he sees his shadow, he reflects upon his nature. His philosophy goes: Since God sent him to earth "deformed, unfinished," he might as well play it up. He must "prove a villain." And he does. Oh yes, he really goes to town. During the course of this famous five act play by William Shakespeare, Richard cheats, lies, turns brother against brother, murders children, betrays friends, and courts enemies. His own mother condemns him to hell. And he spends more than half the play gloating and patting his back with his own deformed arm. The evil genius of Richard III is not limited to words. It's a fantastic adventure streaked with ghosts and prophesies. Villains are heroes and kings don't play by the rules, even if they make them.
             Shakespeare is beyond famous, he is immortal. Everything he touched with his quill turned to gold. It's some sort of funky alchemy. I've always thought that he was over-rated. I figured he took a weird, disjointed story, threw in a couple thees and thous, then added it to the stack of countless other plays. I never saw the beauty of the words he used. I read the entire Richard III aloud. I found myself bubbling with emotions that I never knew existed. It was an awesome indescribable experience. Richard lived. I heard him breathe. I saw his eyes. I felt his pains and reveled in his conquests. God, he was an eloquent villain. I can see how he wooed Lady Anne even though he was the murderer of her husband and father, not to mention a sworn enemy from a rival family. Listen to this:
             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
             ...