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“Let’s purge this choler without letting blood—
This we prescribe, though no physician;
Deep malice makes too deep incision.
Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed:
Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.”
Richard addresses Bolingbroke and Mowbray, hoping to persuade them to reach an amicable settlement of their dispute. The king speaks in rhyming couplets. The reference to bleeding is to the medical practice at the time of blood-letting in order to cure diseases. Richard plays on this meaning to make his point that Mowbray and Bolingbroke should be reconciled without bloodshed. The passage reflects the importance of the motif of blood in the play (See: Symbols & Motifs).
“We were not born to sue, but to command;
Which since we cannot do to make you friends,
Be ready, as your lives shall answer it.”
Richard here reminds everyone that it is not his job to “sue,” that is, make a request of others to resolve their disputes. As a king, it is his place to command. Thus, he here displays his power, telling the disputants to be ready for the trial by combat. Richard’s assertion of his own inherent authority that he was “born” to wield reflects the theme of The Problem of Order and Legitimacy in matters of kingship.
“God’s is the quarrel—for God’s substitute,
His deputy anointed in His sight,
Hath caus’d his death; the which if wrongfully,
Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift
An angry arm against His minister.”
John of Gaunt speaks to the widowed Duchess of Gloucester. She is urging him to avenge the death of her husband, who was Gaunt’s brother. Gaunt believes that Richard may have been involved in the death, but he refuses to take any vengeful action against the king, whom he believes is appointed by God and serves as God’s representative. Revenge, if any is called for, is up to God. Gaunt’s deference toward the sanctity of kingship speaks to The Problem of Order and Legitimacy.
“How long a time lies in one little word!
Four lagging winters and four wanton springs
End in a word; such is the breath of kings.”
Bolingbroke reacts to Richard’s reduction of his banishment from 10 years to six. He contrasts the length of four years with the brevity of the one word that Richard needed to alter his sentence. Bolingbroke is in awe of the immense power of kingship, a power that is emphasized throughout the play.
“All places that the eye of heaven visits
Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
Teach thy necessity to reason thus—
There is no virtue like necessity.
Think not the king did banish thee,
But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit,
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.”
Gaunt tries to cheer up his son Bolingbroke, who has just been banished. Gaunt says that a man can make the best of any situation if he adopts a positive frame of mind. Line 278, about making a virtue of necessity—a phase often used today—was already proverbial in Shakespeare’s time.
“This royal throne of kings, this scepter’d isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.”
John of Gaunt presents his vision of England. He begins by evoking the idea of kingship in three different phrases, which shows how vital kingship is, in Gaunt’s view, to the essence of England and its paradisiacal quality. Gaunt then compares England to a garden, an image that recurs elsewhere in the play to illustrate The Problem of Order and Legitimacy.
“Was not Gaunt just? And is not Harry true?
Did not the one deserve to have an heir?
Is not his heir a well-deserving son?
Take Hereford’s rights away, and take from time
His charters and his customary rights;
Let not tomorrow then ensue today;
Be not thyself; for how art thou a king
But by fair sequence and succession?”
The Duke of York speaks to Richard, pointing out the king’s mistake in seizing Gaunt’s wealth and lands and thus denying his son Bolingbroke his inheritance, speaking to The Impact of Corruption and Opportunism in Richard’s kingship. The most telling point York makes is that Richard himself is king only due to the same rights of inheritance and succession, so in denying Bolingbroke those rights, Richard is undermining his own position as king.
“Some unborn sorrow ripe in Fortune’s womb
Is coming towards me, and my inward soul
With nothing trembles; at some thing it grieves,
More than with parting from my lord the king.”
Richard’s queen has a premonition that something bad is about to happen, something much more serious than parting from her husband. The imagery of a womb and ripening is in keeping with other imagery in the play of birth and natural generation linked to inheritance. Later in the scene, the queen hears of the rebellion against Richard, and she uses an image of the birth of a child, which her sorrowful soul has brought forth—and she names the child as Bolingbroke.
“Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Can wash the balm from an anointed king.
The breath of worldly men cannot depose
The deputy elected by the Lord.”
Speaking to Aumerle on his return from Ireland, Richard makes his case for the divine right of kings when confronted with The Problem of Order and Legitimacy. He has been appointed by God and cannot be rightfully deposed by anyone. This is his rhetorical defense against the imminent threat posed by Bolingbroke. Richard does not yet realize that he has no force of arms to back him up, but he is already showing how much he relies on the power of words and ideas.
“Let’s talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs,
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
Let’s choose executors and talk of wills.”
Richard has just received bad news about his failing support. Bolingbroke is gaining ground everywhere, and Richard realizes that he will be deposed. His mind turns to thoughts of death, which is all that is left for him, speaking to The Crisis of Identity his deposition induces in him.
“Go to Flint castle, there I’ll pine away—
A king, woe’s slave, shall kingly woe obey.
That power I have, discharge, and let them go
To ear the land that hath some hope to grow,
For I have none. Let no man speak again
To alter this, for counsel is but vain.”
Knowing there is no longer any hope, Richard disbands the small force he has left, and says that the only thing left for him is sorrow. He compares himself to barren land on which nothing will grow. He also refuses to entertain any more advice from his followers. Notably, he speaks in rhyming couplets, as if the formality of the language can somehow uphold him.
“See, see, King Richard doth himself appear,
As doth the blushing discontented sun
From out the fiery portal of the East,
When he perceives the envious clouds are bent
To dim his glory and to stain the track
Of his bright passage to the occident.”
Bolingbroke sees Richard appear at the walls of Flint Castle. He uses the same simile that Richard used earlier, in Act III, Scene 2, comparing the king to the sun in the heavens; in this case, Richard’s sudden appearance is compared to the rising of the sun in the east. Even though Bolingbroke is involved in a ruthless struggle with Richard, he still pays tribute to the idea of majesty and kingship, and still associates it with Richard, even though he likely knows that Richard’s reign is coming to an end.
“What must the king do now? Must he submit?
The king shall do it. Must he be depos’d?
The king shall be contented. Must he lose
The name of king? A God’s name, let it go.”
At Flint Castle, Richard speaks to Aumerle. He is thinking aloud about his dire situation and confirms that he has no other choice but to submit to Bolingbroke’s demands. All Bolingbroke has so far demanded is the restoration of his rights and inheritance, and Richard has agreed to grant those. Bolingbroke has said nothing directly about deposing the king, but Richard sees the writing on the wall.
“Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee
To make the base earth proud with kissing it.
Me rather had my heart might feel your love
Than my unpleased eye see your courtesy.
Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
Thus high at least, although your knee be low.”
Richard speaks to Bolingbroke at Flint Castle. Bolingbroke is making a show of allegiance by kneeling to the king, but Richard believes him to be hypocritical. Bolingbroke is making only a superficial display of courtesy, Richard states, which does not match the elation he likely feels in his heart at how well the situation is working out for him.
“Go, bind thou up young dangling apricocks
Which like unruly children make their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight,
Give some supportance to the bending twigs.
Go thou, and like an executioner
Cut off the heads of the too fast growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth:
All must be even in our government.”
The gardener in the Duke of York’s garden expounds a political allegory, comparing the garden to the kingdom. The weeds must be plucked up, just as, in the kingdom, the king must tend to the good of the country to avoid The Impact of Corruption and Opportunism.
“And if you crown him, let me prophesy—
The blood of English shall manure the ground,
And future ages groan for this foul act,
Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels,
And in this seat of peace, tumultuous wars
Shall kin with kin, and kind with kind, confound.”
The Bishop of Carlisle speaks at the Parliament in Westminster Hall. He calls Bolingbroke a traitor and warns that if he is crowned king, it will lead to civil war, revealing that The Problem of Order and Legitimacy has not yet been resolved.
“With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duteous oaths;
Of pomp and majesty I do forswear.”
In the deposition scene, this is the moment when Richard formally renounces the crown. He does so with a rhetorical flourish, employing the literary device known as anaphora, which refers to the repetition of a word or words at the beginning of successive clauses. Richard’s fourfold repetition of “With mine own” adds dramatic emphasis: It shows the significance of his own regal acts, even though he is renouncing his power. His moment of deposition is the climax of The Crisis of Identity he faces.
“Was this the face
That every day under his household roof
Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face
That like the sun did make beholders wink?
Is this the face which fac’d so many follies,
That was at last out-fac’d by Bolingbroke?
A brittle glory shineth in this face;
As brittle as the glory is the face.”
In the deposition scene, Richard has asked for a mirror so he can examine his face to see if it is changed now that he is no longer king, grappling with The Crisis of Identity he is undergoing. He concludes that his face, and the glory it represented, is brittle and vulnerable. He throws the mirror to the ground and, after it smashes, he says that his sorrow has destroyed his face.
“Part us, Northumberland, I towards the north,
Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;
My wife to France, from whence set forth in pomp,
She came adorned hither like sweet May,
Sent back like Hollowmas or short’st of day.”
Richard, under guard, has been speaking to his wife. Northumberland enters and tells them they must part. Richard envisions his bleak future in prison in Pomfret. He also acknowledges that the queen will be sent back to France, and he contrasts how different her departure will be than her arrival. Then, she was like spring itself, but now she is to be sent back at Hollowmas, in November, near to the shortest day of the year and thus unadorned.
“[M]en’s eyes
Did scowl on gentle Richard; no man cried ‘God save him!’
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home,
But dust was thrown upon his sacred head;
Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
His face still combating with tears and smiles,
The badges of his grief and patience.”
The Duke of York, who has finally given his full support to Bolingbroke, nonetheless gives a sympathetic picture to his wife of the former king as he was led under guard through the streets of London. The London populace’s abuse and rejection of him reflects The Impact of Corruption and Opportunism on the feelings of Richard’s subjects, as they abuse him instead of honoring him out of anger for his misrule.
“Our scene is alt’red from a serious thing,
And now chang’d to ‘The Beggar and the King.’
My dangerous cousin, let your mother in;
I know she’s come to pray for your foul sin.”
This is one of the few comic moments in the play. The comedy arises from the Duchess of York’s frantic attempt to reach the new king, Bolingbroke, to plead for her son, Aumerle, who has been plotting against the king. She is banging on the door begging for admittance, and Bolingbroke wittily plays on the title of an old ballad.
“Music do I hear?
Ha, ha! Keep time—how sour sweet music is
When time is broke and no proportion kept!
So it is in the music of men’s lives.
And here have I the daintiness of ear
To check time broke in a disordered string.
But for the concord of my state and time,
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.”
In prison at Pomfret, Richard hears someone playing music. Elizabethans believed that music expressed the harmony of the universe, but Richard does not think of that now. Instead, he plays on the idea of time being broken, referring both to keeping time in music and the passage of his personal time, which is now broken like a “disordered string.” Dwelling more on the concept of time, he acknowledges that he wasted time, and now time, it seems, is gaining its vengeance.
“As full of valour as of royal blood.
Both have I spill’d; O would the deed were good!
For now the devil that told me I did well
Says that this deed is chronicled in hell.”
Exton has just murdered Richard, but his conscience reproaches him. He is filled with remorse for his deed. He thought he was doing the right thing but now realizes that he has committed a great sin in spilling “royal blood”—once more raising the lingering issue of The Problem of Order and Legitimacy in Richard’s overthrow.
“BOL. […] for thou hast wrought
A deed of slander with thy fatal hand
Upon my head and all this fair land.
EXTON. From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.
BOL. They love not poison that do poison need.
Though I did wish him dead,
I hate the murtherer, love him murdered.”
Bolingbroke, now Henry IV, speaks to Exton, who has just presented him with the coffin containing Richard’s body. Bolingbroke denies that he asked Exton to kill Richard, calling it a slander against him, even though he confirms that he desired the death of the former king. The deed was so heinous that he claims to hate it, even though he has profited by it, as he is aware the murder of a former king raises The Problem of Order and Legitimacy for his own rule.
“Come mourn with me for what I do lament,
And put on sullen black, incontinent.
I’ll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand.”
Henry IV speaks to the murderer Exton, asking him to mourn with him the death of Richard and to put on mourning clothes immediately (“incontinent”). The king then says he will go on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem to atone for whatever guilt he may bear in the matter. Henry IV’s sense of guilt ends the play on an ambiguous note, suggesting that England remains in a state of political unease even with the founding of a new reign.
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By William Shakespeare