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| Character | John of Gaunt?Henry Bolingbroke??? | |
|---|---|---|
| Scene type / Who are | Father/Son | |
| Type | Dramatic | |
| Period | Renaissance | |
| Genre | Historical, Drama | |
| Description | Bolingbroke laments about his exile to his father John of Gaunt | |
| Location | ACT I, Scene 3 | |
Summary
The play is about the fall from power and death of Richard II and the rise of the first king of the house of Lancaster, Henry Bolingbroke, who will become Henry IV.
In the first scene we find Richard II acting as a judge for a dispute between Henry Bolingbroke, the king's cousin and son of John of Gaunt, and Thomas Mowbray, the Duke of Norfolk. Henry Bolingbroke accuses Thomas Mowbray of being a traitor and conspiring against the king. Eventually they decide to fight in a duel. At first the king accepts but then decides to banish them from England, Mowbray forever and Bolingbroke for six years.
This scene comes at the end of the third scene of ACT I. Richard has just banished Bolingbroke for six years and Bolingbroke laments about this decision to his father John of Gaunt. His father advices him not to worry about it and tries to comfort him.
In the first scene we find Richard II acting as a judge for a dispute between Henry Bolingbroke, the king's cousin and son of John of Gaunt, and Thomas Mowbray, the Duke of Norfolk. Henry Bolingbroke accuses Thomas Mowbray of being a traitor and conspiring against the king. Eventually they decide to fight in a duel. At first the king accepts but then decides to banish them from England, Mowbray forever and Bolingbroke for six years.
This scene comes at the end of the third scene of ACT I. Richard has just banished Bolingbroke for six years and Bolingbroke laments about this decision to his father John of Gaunt. His father advices him not to worry about it and tries to comfort him.
Written by Administrator
| Excerpt |
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| [The lists at Coventry] [Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II and train] [DUKE OF AUMERLE Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know, From where you do remain let paper show.] [Lord Marshal My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride, As far as land will let me, by your side.] JOHN OF GAUNT O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends? HENRY BOLINGBROKE I have too few to take my leave of you, When the tongue's office should be prodigal To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. JOHN OF GAUNT Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Joy absent, grief is present for that time. JOHN OF GAUNT What is six winters? they are quickly gone. HENRY BOLINGBROKE To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. JOHN OF GAUNT Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure. HENRY BOLINGBROKE My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage. JOHN OF GAUNT The sullen passage of thy weary steps Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set The precious jewel of thy home return. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make Will but remember me what a deal of world I wander from the jewels that I love. Must I not serve a long apprenticehood To foreign passages, and in the end, Having my freedom, boast of nothing else But that I was a journeyman to grief? JOHN OF GAUNT 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. Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour And not the king exiled thee; or suppose Devouring pestilence hangs in our air And thou art flying to a fresher clime: Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest: Suppose the singing birds musicians, The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd, The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more Than a delightful measure or a dance; For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light. HENRY BOLINGBROKE O, who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? O, no! the apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse: Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore. JOHN OF GAUNT Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way: Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu; My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman. [Exeunt] |
