Soliloquies in Shakespeare: Revealing True Character

Introduction

William Shakespeare's works are among the most well-known texts in the English language, and indeed in any language around the world. There are many reasons for the enduring popularity of Shakespeare's plays, not the least of which is the pure skill he displays with language. The themes his plays deal with are quite profound and almost always universal to all of humanity, and his poetic talent provides insight into these themes to a degree that few authors before or since have been able to approximate—at least not across the wide range of topics and perspectives that Shakespeare brought to bear. But his poetic talent and the universality of his themes are not the only reasons his works have proved so enduring.

Most of the world's most well-known stories can have their importance traced to one specific aspect: character. Very few people know the origins of Santa Claus, why he is also known as Saint Nick, or what the modern figure's connection to Christianity is. Yet Santa—and similar figures in other cultures—is one of the most recognizable characters in our world today. The same is true for many of Shakespeare's characters, who present strong figures in our collective consciousness even when their stories may only be partially known. Romeo and Juliet are two of the world's best-known lovers, Richard III is one of Western civilization's most reviled (and enjoyed) villains, and Katherine from The Taming of the Shrew remains—whether for better or for worse—the embodiment of the feisty and demanding woman.

Yet none of these characters, nor the many others that can be counted among Shakespeare's most fully rendered and enduring creations, is as simple as their image in the collective consciousness suggests. Not only do they change as their respective plays progress, as any character in a great piece of literature necessarily must, but many of these characters also purposefully present different sides of themselves to various other characters at certain points in the play. Even more, many of Shakespeare's characters have motives and perspectives that are not entirely clear throughout the play, and even seem to behave and think in ways that contradict each other. These characters can be trusted to reveal their true motives and intentions in only one situation—their soliloquies, or monologues addressed not to any other character onstage but rather to the audience (or the open air, depending on the interpretation).

This paper will attempt to paint a more accurate picture of some of Shakespeare's more complex, enigmatic, and misunderstood characters by examining their monologues—and especially their soliloquies—in the various plays in which they appear. Though these characters are assumed to be fairly well understood by many people familiar with Shakespeare's works, there is often a great deal of ambiguity and uncertainty surrounding their image in the collective consciousness. Even the plots of the plays and the eventual outcomes of the various characters discussed herein do not necessarily accurately reveal the interior lives and motivations of these characters. It is only through a careful, close reading of their monologues and soliloquies that these characters are truly revealed.

Romeo and Juliet: Lust Mistaken for Love

The greatest love story ever told, according to some, is Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. The two young lovers of the title, whose families are locked in a bitter and unexplained rivalry, find happiness and togetherness only in their mutual deaths—thus tying an eternal knot that ends in what most interpretations regard as an incredibly tragic yet loving moment. There is certainly a great deal of evidence that supports this interpretation, and it is even likely that Romeo and Juliet believe, at least consciously, that this is the truth of their story. A careful examination of certain monologues in the play reveals other possibilities, however.

Though love is typically believed to be the driving force between these two youths, Romeo's famous monologue beneath Juliet's balcony shows a much baser interpretation—pure teenage lust. His descriptions of Juliet, though romantic-sounding, are actually highly confused and inconsistent. There are only two points of real clarity, and these occur when Romeo stops describing the beauty he perceives in Juliet and directly expresses his desires. From this, it is clear that Romeo confuses his feelings of lust with love; when he attempts to express himself in terms of the more noble emotion, his language is wandering and inconsistent, whereas when he acknowledges his true and direct desires, his language is marked by sudden and certain clarity.

This monologue starts with some of the most famous lines in all of Shakespeare, and indeed all of English literature: "But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? / It is the East, and Juliet is the Sun!" (Riverside 1114, II.ii.1–2). This metaphor is simple and straightforward enough, but from here on the image begins to fail Romeo. He continues by telling Juliet—the Sun, that is—to rise and do away with "the envious moon, / Who is already sick and pale with grief / That thou her maid art far more fair than she" (Riverside 1114, II.ii.4–6). This statement, though it makes literal sense, highly confuses the metaphor. The sun is not considered the moon's maid; if anything, the moon is considered subservient to the sun. There is an obvious play on the word "maid," referring to Juliet's virginity, but the concept of femininity and chastity is actually associated with the moon—not in opposition to it—through the Roman goddess Diana, a figure with whom both Shakespeare and the Italian Romeo would have been quite familiar (Rose 97–100).

Juliet, then, a maid in the sense that she is still a virgin, is being exhorted by Romeo to kill the "envious" symbol of virginity. His referring to her as the Sun at the start of the monologue can be seen as Romeo's mind—whether consciously or not—placing her in direct opposition to virginity from the very start. The confusion of his symbolic description of Juliet continues when he begins comparing the brightness of her eyes to stars, and only degrades into further confusion as the description continues: "What if her eyes were there, they in her head? / The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars / As daylight doth a lamp" (Riverside 1114, II.ii.18–20). First her eyes are bright enough to take the place of stars (though Juliet herself is the Sun), and then her cheeks would put those stars to shame. Romeo cannot even keep his focus on a single body part, let alone a single symbolic image.

It is also worthwhile to note that his devotion to Juliet is purely physical—indeed, he has never had any interaction with her that would allow for a deeper appreciation or love. It could be argued, and rightfully so, that Shakespeare's plays are full of characters who fall in love at first sight, and thus Shakespeare's idea of love could be seen as based primarily on physical attraction. But these characters also go about professing their love repeatedly without immediately making physical advances. This monologue's clearest passages, however, indicate the physical nature of Romeo's "love," if indeed it can be referred to as such. Amidst all of the confusion of his symbols and the conflicting images of Juliet as an object of feminine beauty and an object of male lust, two of Romeo's statements stand out with a particular clarity that reveals his actual motivation.

The second of these is actually the least explicit and the most tender, suggesting that he has gotten some grip on himself by the end of the monologue. After describing her cheek resting on her hand, Romeo notes: "O that I were a glove upon that hand, / That I might touch that cheek!" (Riverside 1114, II.ii.24–5). This is not an especially explicit sexual advance, but it does reveal Romeo's desire both to possess Juliet's flesh (as a glove possesses the flesh of a hand) and to touch her with impunity. An even clearer example of his true desires is found nearer the beginning of the monologue, during Romeo's confused treatment of Juliet as a maid of the moon: "Her vestal livery is but sick and green, / And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off" (Riverside 1114, II.ii.8–9). Whatever the confusion of the symbol, Romeo is quite clearly—even if arguably figuratively—telling Juliet to remove her clothes.

Juliet herself, though ostensibly a virgin, is certainly not innocent in this regard. In the shorter monologue she delivers in the same scene, unaware of Romeo's presence, she famously asks: "What's Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, / Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part / Belonging to a man" (Riverside 1114, II.ii.40–2). She does not mention a mind, a spirit, or any other intangible qualities that might make her protestations of deep emotional love more believable; instead she focuses on the physical aspects of Romeo—including the suggestive "any other part belonging to a man"—revealing the true root of her desires.

It is not love, then, that causes these two teenagers to be drawn to each other. They have no real knowledge or understanding of each other beyond the exoticism introduced by their families' feud and their brief meeting and kiss at the ball earlier that evening. What exists between Romeo and Juliet is nothing other than attraction and lust. Teenagers are very prone to mistaking these feelings for a deep emotional connection, and Romeo's confusion in his monologue shows how false and misleading feelings of "love" can become intertwined with direct and very clear thoughts of lust. Juliet's attraction to Romeo is equally based in physicality, as evidenced by her own monologue in the scene, and their mutual sexual infatuations play into each other, rendering neither one capable of true love or rational thought. The fact that their third face-to-face meeting takes place at their own wedding ceremony is evidence enough of their foolishness.

Friar Laurence: The Self-Serving Schemer

This last fact is also evidence of another character's extreme foolishness—a fact that marks a significant departure from the way he is typically portrayed and perceived in the play. Friar Laurence, who is the source of the major plot in the play—the secret marriage between Romeo and Juliet and the potion that makes Juliet appear dead, ultimately leading to Romeo's death and then her own—is seen as a voice of wisdom and reason by most of the other characters. His monologues, however, reveal that he is a very different character with very different motives than those traditionally ascribed to him. Rather than a wise and benevolent man whose primary interest is the happiness of his young friend Romeo and Romeo's new love, Friar Laurence reveals through his soliloquy that he is actually a self-serving schemer to some degree.

This is acknowledged almost explicitly at the end of his speech regarding the duality of nature:

"Two such opposed kings encamp them still
In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;
And where the worser is predominant,
Full soon the canker death eats up that plant"
(Riverside 1116, II.iii.27–30)

The Friar shows a clear desire to be important in the proceedings of the play, and his constant intercessions show that the application of his wisdom stems not only from a desire to help—the "grace" of the monologue—but also from a sense of pride and self-importance, or "rude will."

Richard III: The Need to Be the Center of Attention

One cannot speak of rude will in Shakespeare without addressing his most interesting and most complete villain, Richard III. Though his account of this last King from the House of York is wildly historically inaccurate according to contemporary sources and modern scholarship, it still makes for one of the most memorable characters in the entire Shakespearean canon (Riverside 748–51). Indeed, there are few characters in all of Western literature as deceitful, manipulative, and greedily grasping as this severely twisted—in mind, soul, and body—royal, nor are there many who are so brazenly honest with themselves regarding both the dastardliness of their deeds and their own enjoyment of them.

Yet despite the rather obvious pure evil of Richard's character, there is still some debate regarding his precise motives and intentions, which appear in some ways to shift during the play. Most characters undergo a shift in attitude as a drama unfolds; it is one of the hallmarks of a well-crafted play or a well-written piece of literature of any type. In addition, Richard appears to have several motives at various points throughout the play, some of which may seem to mitigate his evil. Specifically, there is a great deal of accusation—and, to be frank, whining—on Richard's part about the wrongs that have been done to him, which he uses to justify some of his actions.

These accusations, however, are not actually heartfelt, nor does Richard's arc in the play truly reflect internal changes, but rather only the external changes of his power and circumstance. He remains the same grasping, self-centered, manipulative, and masochistic man throughout the action of the play, and he takes a great deal of personal and visceral enjoyment out of each step on his route to the throne. Even the more believable of the various motivations that seem to be hinted at or even directly stated at various points in the play—avenging the wrongs done to him by others, attempting to create a strong and undisputed monarchy, and even his own far less noble and altruistic personal political ambition—do not truly represent Richard's character. Instead, they can be seen as yet more forms and methods of manipulation that he employs to achieve his true ultimate goal, which in reality is nothing more or less than a compulsive desire to be the center of attention, whether negatively or positively.

This window into Richard's true character can be clearly seen in the several soliloquies he delivers throughout the play, which also contain some of the most famous phrases in Richard III. These standout phrases are well-known not only because they are memorably phrased, but also because they go right to the heart of Richard's character and the overall meaning of the play. Richard's near-total self-absorption almost automatically renders his dialogue with other characters completely untrustworthy and essentially meaningless when it comes to truth and reality. This fact makes the soliloquies that the erstwhile King delivers far more important than equivalent moments in other plays for developing and understanding both the play and the title character.

The play begins with what is perhaps its most famous line: "Now is the winter of our discontent," which continues less famously, "Made glorious summer by this sun of York" (Riverside 752, I.i.1–2). The opening monologue continues with repeated use of "our," indicating a cohesion amongst the people—and especially the nobles—of England that had not existed for much of the preceding period known as the Wars of the Roses. In the fourteenth line of the monologue, however, Richard makes a distinct turn with the words "But I" (Riverside 752, I.i.14). The language itself marks the distinction between the "I" and "them" of Richard's worldview; even without any deeper investigation, it is clear that Richard holds himself apart from everyone else and that this separation is a major factor in his personality and his motivations.

The second portion of the monologue, approximately twice as long as the first part, is just as heavy with I's, my's, and mine's as the first thirteen lines are laden with our's. This makes Richard's number-one priority very clear right from the very start of the play. He does not think about his brothers, the state of England, the throne, his lust, or even revenge except insofar as they relate first and foremost to him. Each of these can be useful and vaguely important to Richard of Gloucester, but only insofar as they serve to bring attention to him, forcing others to focus on him as much as he focuses on himself. His description of his own physical deformities betrays this obsession with himself in a macabre fashion: "I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty / To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; / I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion" (Riverside 752, I.i.16–8).

These lines, along with the many other self-references to his shape and deformities that appear throughout the play, clearly show how obsessed Richard is with his appearance. This has been interpreted as another form of manipulation that Richard uses to elicit pity and sympathy from others, persuading them to ally with him or at least to forgive him (Clemen 39–40). Though he certainly uses this tactic, this monologue—which is not delivered to any onstage characters—shows that there is a deeper reason for these thoughts. This obsession, though consciously useful to Richard, is also an ingrained part of his character. Richard is a character entirely wrapped up in himself, even fascinated by his own grotesque features. His use of these features to achieve external ends is secondary to his character; his obsession with himself is primary.

This opening soliloquy also reveals other clues about his motives, suggesting they are not really as practical or even ambitious as is often thought. He is not disrupting the nobility because he is power-hungry, but rather because he is bored—and he says so twice in this very soliloquy. The first instance comes after his lengthy description of his deformity, which causes him to be left out of the general frivolity: "Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, / Have no delight to pass away the time"—peace, for Richard, is simply boring (Riverside 753, I.i.24–5). He has a plan to change things, however, stating that he is "determined to prove a villain / And hate the idle pleasures of these days" (Riverside 753, I.i.30–1). The real reason that Richard causes so much disruption in the world around him is that without this chaos, he cannot be the center of attention—and this is his true underlying motive.

There is no question that Richard enjoys power, both politically and through his abilities of personal persuasion and manipulation. But this power is only necessary insofar as it allows him to insinuate himself into many different situations, and always as a key figure. Even when he is acting falsely humble before other characters later in the play, he cannot help but make himself seem important by giving advice or telling a secret—often an invention of his own scheming. This monologue's linguistic construction and its explicit meaning make it clear that for Richard, the only thing that really matters is Richard. It is not the crown that he is after, but the self-importance that comes with it. Even when he is facing characters who openly revile him and say so to his face, his enjoyment of the situation is not diminished but rather seems to be heightened—there is no such thing as bad attention.

Conclusion

No interpretation of any work of literature is ever entirely secure. There are clues to be found by the careful reader that lead to a deeper and more meaningful understanding and appreciation of a given text. In the plays of William Shakespeare, these clues are to be found in almost every phrase. When it comes to understanding characters, however, one needs to turn to the monologues and soliloquies that a character speaks in order to understand them fully. It is in these passages that characters reveal their true selves.

Works Cited

Clemen, Wolfgang. A Commentary on Shakespeare's Richard III. New York: Routledge, 2005.

Evans, G. Blakemore and M. Tobin, eds. The Riverside Shakespeare. New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2003.

Rose, Herbert. A Handbook of Greek Mythology. New York: Routledge, 2005.

Shakespeare, William. Richard the Third. In The Riverside Shakespeare.

Shakespeare, William. Romeo and Juliet. In The Riverside Shakespeare.

Shakespeare, William. The Taming of the Shrew. In The Riverside Shakespeare.