Paradoxically, Bolingbroke argues that it is precisely the “goodness” of Thomas Mowbray, the Duke of York, as an aristocrat of high birth that makes his “bad” act of allegedly killing the Duke of Gloucester so unforgivable. Speaking before King Richard II and the other assembled members of the royal court, Bolingbroke launches his accusation against Mowbray:
Thou art a traitor and a miscreant,
Too good to be so and too bad to live,
Since the more fair and crystal is the sky,
The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.
Bolingbroke sets up a paradox here that plays on the opposition of “good” and “bad,” suggesting that positive traits cast negative actions in stark relief, just as a cloud stands out visibly in a clear and sunny sky. His implication then is that Mowbray, a member of the aristocracy from an old and proud family, has betrayed his “good” lineage by committing murder, and even more specifically, the murder of a fellow aristocrat. While Mowbray seeks to use his high class status to defend himself from Bolingbroke’s accusations, Bolingbroke instead wields his elevated background against him. He is “too good” to have committed murder, and yet “too bad” to be allowed to live out the rest of his life without punishment.
Bolingbroke paradoxically claims that positive thoughts can serve as a liability by heightening the pain of negative experiences. In his final words before leaving England as an exile, he resists the attempts by his father, John of Gaunt, to lighten his mood, stating:
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.
His father urges him to think optimistically about his exile by imagining his time away from England as a sort of adventure or holiday rather than a punishment. Bolingbroke, however, refuses to be consoled and claims that these kind words have only increased his feelings of despair. Paradoxically, he insists that the attempt to think positively has only cast his suffering in sharper relief, as “apprehension” or awareness of “the good” merely gives “greater feeling to the worse.” Bolingbroke argues that an optimistic mindset only leads to greater feelings of disappointment when life fails to meet our expectations and our hopes do not come to fruition.
Further, he suggests that a toothache “doth rankle” or hurt the most when it “bites but lanceth not the sore,” or in other words, when the pain is only partially felt and therefore not totally released or resolved. Sorrow, Bolingbroke implies, is even more painful when it is not fully expressed, like a lingering discomfort. At this point in the play, Bolingbroke is inconsolable regarding his exile, and he rejects attempts by his loved ones to cheer him up. Instead, he insists that he must experience his pain thoroughly and honestly.
King Richard II paradoxically suggests that flattering but false words are more wounding than open hostility. When his loyal ally, the Duke of Aumerle, urges him to remain optimistic in the face of Henry Bolingbroke’s rebellion, the King lashes out at him, stating:
He does me double wrong
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
At this point in the play, Bolingbroke has not yet declared open hostility towards the King but instead maintains that he respects the King’s authority and merely wishes to free him from his corrupt ministers. Richard argues that these superficial “flatteries” uttered by Bolingbroke and the other rebelling lords, made in respect of his status as King, have done him “double wrong.”
Rather than comforting him, then, these seemingly kind words have hurt him all the more by reminding him of the proper respect that he is due as King despite his forthcoming dethronement. Richard suggests that if Bolingbroke were to speak honestly and openly announce his desire to oppose the King, then this would be less injurious to him as it would not cause him the greater insult of deception. There is also a great deal of irony in the King’s speech here, as listening to the false words of flatterers such as Bushy, Bagot, and Green directly contributed to Richard’s downfall.
In his speech to Bolingbroke upon being asked to surrender the throne, King Richard II paradoxically claims that his “care” (or concern) is precisely the “loss of care” that has resulted from his imminent dethroning. In his final moments as King, Richard states:
Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down.
My care is loss of care, by old care done;
Your care is gain of care, by new care won.
The cares I give I have, though given away.
They ’tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.
In this cryptic and riddle-like speech that repeats the word “care” in a number of different ways, Richard emphasizes the difficulties of kingship and the many worries that afflict a King, who must take responsibility for an entire nation while also fending off rivals (such as Bolingbroke). Nonetheless, he suggests paradoxically that his current “care” or woe is being removed from that difficult role and from the many smaller “cares” that come with it.
Rather than thinking of his dethronement of “loss of care” and responsibility, then, Richard argues in a striking paradox that his cares have been “given away” to the new wearer of the crown, and yet they have also stuck with him. Richard’s speech meditates on the strange role of a former King, who cannot even enjoy his newfound freedom from responsibility because his sense of identity is so wrapped up in the role that has been taken from him by force.
