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.

 The second scene shifts to Gaunt's palace in London, where he is talking with the Duchess of Gloucester, who is very upset. Gaunt laments that his blood relationship with Gloucester urges him to take revenge for his brother's murder, but that he cannot take action against these "butchers of his  life." Since he can do nothing to avenge the death of his own brother, Gaunt advises the duchess to place her trust in providence. The duchess  is amazed at Gaunt's cold response and wonders whether brotherhood has any claims on him. She reminds him that Gloucester was his own brother and one of seven sons fathered by Edward III. Of these seven some have died due to natural causes, while destiny has shortened the lives of others. But Gloucester's life, she says, has been cut short by "envy's hand and murder's bloody axe." She tries to incite Gaunt to action by emphasizing that Gloucester's blood was his and that he had shared the same womb as her husband. She tells him that a part of his own self has been killed. Seeing that her strategy is not having much effect, she tries to play on Gaunt's sense of honor and says that his lack of action is not representative of patience, but of "pale cold cowardice. " She further says that Gaunt's refusal to avenge his brother's murder will only encourage the murderers and result in a threat to his own life. This passionate outburst of grief fails to move Gaunt from his firm decision that the quarrel is God's, since the king, who is God's agent on earth, ordered the murder. He says that he cannot take action against the king, God's deputy. The duchess helplessly consents to leave things to the course of providence. She hopes that her husband's murderer, Mowbray, is killed by Bolingbroke, or if that should fail, she prays that the weight of Mowbray's sins may throw him from the back of his horse headlong into the lists . She bids a tearful farewell to Gaunt and says that she will spend the rest of her life alone, nursing her grief.

