Mothers presented in Shakespeare's plays encompass a wide range of social positions, personalities, goals, and prominences in their respective works. From the young and powerful to the old and vulnerable to the long dead, mothers in Richard III, Cymbeline, Hamlet, Macbeth and The Tempest act in ways that make them appear as largely negative figures. By upsetting family and social bonds and boundaries, practicing witchcraft and casting prophecies and curses, the women in question act as destructive characters, upsetting the natural order of the world. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an Original Essay For example, Queen Margaret acts in a variety of unnatural and subversive ways. Her mere entry into the third scene of Richard III represents a bold legal and political rebellion, as she was banished from the kingdom under pain of death. Before being noticed by the others, she launches vitriolic barbs at Glouster and Queen Elizabeth, the intensity of which dwarfs that of the argument between the two objects of her passionate hatred. Finally coming forward, she escalates her fury to an even stronger level, demanding attention as she harshly accuses Glouster and Elizabeth of being "troublesome pirates", stealing what was rightfully hers, namely her husband and son and power and the security they provided. (1.3.157). Even now, however, without that power and security and in a position that should naturally make her weak and harmless, she forcefully commands the attention of the other characters while articulating a series of vengeful curses. Queen Margaret curses the current king, Edward IV, to be murdered in peacetime and Elizabeth's son, the Prince of Wales, to die violently at a young age, just as her husband and son met their end. Emphasizing her dislike of Elizabeth, Margaret continues, condemning the Queen to outlive her glory, to live long to mourn the death of her children, and to die after many years of anguish as "neither mother, nor wife, nor Queen of England " (1.3.208 ). After cursing Dorset, Rivers, and Gray to have similar fates, the old woman continues with her incredible burst of energy to proclaim her most explicit curses yet. Ordering Glouster to remain as the dog with which she addresses him with resentment, Margaret condemns him to confuse traitors and friends and they experience a sleep always tormented by nightmares brought on by the rodent, “worm of conscience” (1.3.221). Ignoring every trace of courtly decorum, he vividly attacks Glouster's deepest flaws and insecurities, raging, You elf-branded, abortive, rooting pig! You who were sealed in your birth the slave of nature and the child of hell! You, slander of your mother's heavy burden! You hate the fruit of your father's loins! You rag of honor! thou hated (1.3.227-232) After being interrupted, she ends her cutting tirade with her most overt prophecy yet, calling Glouster by the name he will take when he treacherously ascends the throne, Richard. Continuing in this vein, she tells Elizabeth that by binding herself to Glouster through marriage she has "sharpened a knife to kill you" (1.3.243). Although Dorset calls her mad and Buckingham claims not to respect any of her statements, her incredibly passionate, explicit and articulate curses are extremely jarring, especially considering that she is an elderly lady, she is expected to be defenseless. While the characters still don't appreciate the gravity of Margaret's words, theaudience immediately realizes that she is not simply ranting, but rather giving ominous warnings that as well as experiencing immense suffering. Only after Queen Margaret's curses begin to come true does Elizabeth put her elder's damning words to faith. Her children are murdered as Richard attempts to consolidate and defend his power, and Elizabeth begins to experience the agony of the loss of her son Margaret foretold. Desperately grieving, she listens to Margaret gloat about the truth of her words and her belief that some form of justice, no matter how delayed, is being served. Current events remind Elizabeth of another prophecy, that she would one day beg Margaret to teach her how to curse Richard. When she fulfills this prediction, the world-weary Margaret advises her to live and see the world in an extremely unnatural way, instructing her: To abstain from sleeping at night and fasting during the day; Compare dead happiness with living suffering; Think your children were sweeter than they were, and he who killed them more disgusting than he; Making your loss better makes the one who caused you harm worse; Rotating it will teach you to swear. (4.4.118-123) His advice for living stands in stark contrast to that of the other characters, all of whom strive for success and prosperity. However, Margaret urges Elizabeth to deprive herself of even basic needs such as sleep and food, adding that she must distort her perspectives to inflate the goodness of the family and the wickedness of her enemy. He believes, speaking from experience, that only by living in misery can one curse others with equally profound misery. Another Shakespearean queen mother with disturbing motifs is Cymbeline's wife. More endowed with traditional power and more reserved in her malice than the old and patently hateful Margaret, the Queen uses different means in her attempts to achieve desired ends, which transgress family relationships through deception and murderous thoughts and actions. Cymbeline, the Queen tries to comfort the young lovers, Imogene and Posthumus, who will soon separate, confiding in them that she will be their ally, insisting: No, be sure that you will not find me, daughter, after the slander of most stepmothers you will they look bad. You are my prisoner, but your jailer will give you the keys that lock your imprisonment. For you, Postumus, as soon as I succeed in winning over the offended king, I will be known as your advocate. (1.1.69-76) Imogen sees through this façade of kindness and thoughtfulness, accurately assuming that her stepmother truly looks upon her with an evil eye. As the action unfolds, the audience learns that not only will the Queen not attempt to convince her husband to restore Imogen and Posthumous' relationship, but that she will do everything in her power to destroy it. Shortly thereafter the queen lies to her stepdaughter. In her moment of torment, she attempts to trick Cornelius, the royal doctor, into giving her the poison she claims she needs for experiments on small animals. Even before she receives a potion, the sight of Pisanio, Postumus' still loyal servant, pushes her to reveal his plans in a sinister way. She reflects, here comes a flattering scoundrel; I will work on him first. He is to his master, an enemy to my son. (1.4.27-29) Previously claiming to act in Postumus's interests, the Queen now reveals that not only is Postumus her enemy, but so is anyone who, like Pisanius, would serve him. Luckily for Pisanio, Imogen isn't the only person to suspect the Queen has frightening motives. Cornelius wisely gives the Queen a harmless sleeping potion so that when she attempts to poison Pisanio while claiming that his potion isa calming sign of an even greater good meant for him, the faithful servant will suffer no harm. After such betrayal, it comes as no surprise when the queen, with Cymbeline, walks alongside her son Cloten, encouraging him as he tries to win Imogen through song. It is only a matter of time, they say, before the king's daughter forgets Postumus and takes Cloten as her wife. The biggest surprise, however, is that the seemingly cruel and heartless queen is struck by a fever caused by Cloten's disappearance. But like everything the queen does, things aren't quite as they appear at first glance. She did become ill after Cloten disappeared in an attempt to kidnap Imogen, but her anguish wasn't just that of a grief-stricken mother. The true root of his illness is not revealed until the final scene of the play, when the extent of his cruel scheming comes to light. Cornelius breaks the news to Cymbeline, bluntly lamenting the way the queen ended her life, "With horror, dying madly, like her life, which, being cruel to the world, ended most cruel to herself" ( 5.5.31-33). With the king's permission, Cornelius describes in detail the queen's deathbed confessions. First, the doctor reveals that the queen never loved her husband and only appreciated his power. He says that she "married thy kingship, was the wife of thy place, / abhorred thy person" (5.5.38-39). Cornelius goes on to say that the queen saw Imogen as a "scorpion" who she would poison if the young woman did not flee (5.5.45). Finally, and most shockingly, the doctor recounts that the queen had planned to poison the king so that her husband would slowly and painfully waste away until such time as she could move her son to the throne. However, as her mischievous plan began to unravel, Cornelius recalls, the queen grew shameless and desperate; he opened, in spite of heaven and men, his intentions; repentant. The evils she hatched were not accomplished; so Desperato died. (5.5.58-61) The queen is so cruel that even in her dying moments she does not engage in the conventional act of repentance, but rather regrets that her plans were not realized. While Cymbeline's wife behaves in ways that sometimes deceive those around her, Queen Gertrude also leaves the audience in a state of confusion regarding her true motives and character. However, she clearly violates conventional family boundaries and fails to meet normal expectations for the role of a good mother. In Hamlet, Gertrude is introduced shortly after the death of King Hamlet, Claudius' brother and Gertrude's husband. His introduction comes as Claudio announces that he and Gertrude will be married. Hamlet, understandably distraught by his father's recent demise, is unable and unwilling to join in the festive atmosphere that Claudius espouses. Gertrude, instead of mourning the late king and trying to help Hamlet through the natural grieving process, joins Claudius in urging her son to "throw away thy knight's color forthwith" (1.2.68). He goes on to describe the universal and banal nature of death, depriving Hamlet of a nurturing presence to help him deal with not only the concept of death, but also the loss of his beloved father. Gertrude's lack of understanding of words is simply not as disturbing as her act of marrying her dead husband's brother, an event that Hamlet reflects on with resentment. After exclaiming: "Fragility, your name is woman!" (1.2.146), laments the recent sequence of events, lamenting, within a month, before the salt of the most unjust tears had left the redness in his sore eyes, he married the most speed.