Theater of Blood1973

[dressed as Richard The Third]

Edward Lionheart:
Now is the winter of our discontent / Made glorious summer by this sun of York / Our bruised arms hung up for monuments / Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings. He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber / To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. As I am subtle, false, and treacherous / This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up. But soft, here come my executioners.