Chapter: Scaena Secunda.

Enter Gaunt, and Dutchesse of Gloucester.

  Gaunt. Alas, the part I had in Glousters blood,
Doth more solicite me then your exclaimes,
To stirre against the Butchers of his life.
But since correction lyeth in those hands
Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
Put we our quarrell to the will of heauen,
Who when they see the houres ripe on earth,
Will raigne hot vengeance on offenders heads

   Dut. Findes brotherhood in thee no sharper spurre?
Hath loue in thy old blood no liuing fire?
Edwards seuen sonnes (whereof thy selfe art one)
Were as seuen violles of his Sacred blood,
Or seuen faire branches springing from one roote:
Some of those seuen are dride by natures course,
Some of those branches by the destinies cut:
But Thomas, my deere Lord, my life, my Glouster,
One Violl full of Edwards Sacred blood,
One flourishing branch of his most Royall roote
Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt;
Is hackt downe, and his summer leafes all vaded
By Enuies hand, and Murders bloody Axe.
Ah Gaunt! His blood was thine, that bed, that wombe,
That mettle, that selfe-mould that fashion'd thee,
Made him a man: and though thou liu'st, and breath'st,
Yet art thou slaine in him: thou dost consent
In some large measure to thy Fathers death,
In that thou seest thy wretched brother dye,
Who was the modell of thy Fathers life.
Call it not patience (Gaunt) it is dispaire,
In suffring thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,
Thou shew'st the naked pathway to thy life,
Teaching sterne murther how to butcher thee:
That which in meane men we intitle patience
Is pale cold cowardice in noble brests:
What shall I say, to safegard thine owne life,
The best way is to venge my Glousters death

   Gaunt. Heauens is the quarrell: for heauens substitute
His Deputy annointed in his sight,
Hath caus'd his death, the which if wrongfully
Let heauen reuenge: for I may neuer lift
An angry arme against his Minister

   Dut. Where then (alas may I) complaint my selfe?
  Gau. To heauen, the widdowes Champion to defence
  Dut. Why then I will: farewell old Gaunt.
Thou go'st to Couentrie, there to behold
Our Cosine Herford, and fell Mowbray fight:
O sit my husbands wrongs on Herfords speare,
That it may enter butcher Mowbrayes brest:
Or if misfortune misse the first carreere,
Be Mowbrayes sinnes so heauy in his bosome,
That they may breake his foaming Coursers backe,
And throw the Rider headlong in the Lists,
A Caytiffe recreant to my Cosine Herford:
Farewell old Gaunt, thy sometimes brothers wife
With her companion Greefe, must end her life

   Gau. Sister farewell: I must to Couentree,
As much good stay with thee, as go with mee

   Dut. Yet one word more: Greefe boundeth where it falls,
Not with the emptie hollownes, but weight:
I take my leaue, before I haue begun,
For sorrow ends not, when it seemeth done.
Commend me to my brother Edmund Yorke.
Loe, this is all: nay, yet depart not so,
Though this be all, do not so quickly go,
I shall remember more. Bid him, Oh, what?
With all good speed at Plashie visit mee.
Alacke, and what shall good old Yorke there see
But empty lodgings, and vnfurnish'd walles,
Vn-peopel'd Offices, vntroden stones?
And what heare there for welcome, but my grones?
Therefore commend me, let him not come there,
To seeke out sorrow, that dwels euery where:
Desolate, desolate will I hence, and dye,
The last leaue of thee, takes my weeping eye.

Exeunt.

 When the scene opens, John of Gaunt is in the middle of a private chitchat with his sister-in-law, the Duchess of Gloucester. The Duchess is the widow of the late Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester. The Duchess is heartbroken about her husband's murder and has just asked her brother-in-law to avenge his death. Gaunt admits to the Duchess that her husband was murdered. But he says she is out of luck if she expects him to do anything about it, because there's no way he's going to lift a finger against the king. The Duchess accuses John of Gaunt of being a lousy brother. She argues that loyalty to one's own flesh and blood is the most important thing in the world. Then she reminds him of his family history: he's one of King Edward III's sons. In other words, he's royal, and so was his brother, which is why Richard shouldn't be allowed to get away with murdering his uncle, even if Richard is a king. Gaunt disagrees. He argues that he can't do anything to Richard because he's a monarch and, like all kings, he's God's "deputy" on earth. Brain Snack: Gaunt's talking about a political theory that's often referred to as the "divine right of kings," which says that kings have a right to rule because they've been chosen by God to do so. What this means is that kings don't have to answer to anybody but God. This also means that if a subject rebels against the king, he's basically rebelling and sinning against God too. Now, back to the play. Fine, says the Duchess, but where the heck is she supposed to go for justice if Gaunt's not going to help her get revenge? Gaunt says she'll have to take it up with God - he's the only one who can help her. The Duchess gives up the argument but adds that she hopes that Bolingbroke's sword will "butcher Mowbray's breast" at the big trial by combat that's coming up. Then the Duchess hints that she's going to go off to die of grief and/or commit suicide.

