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| Character | Henry Bolingbroke | |
|---|---|---|
| Gender | Male | |
| Age Range(s) | Young Adult (20-35), Adult (36-50) | |
| Type of monologue / Character is | Angry, Scolding, Complaining | |
| Type | Dramatic | |
| Period | Renaissance | |
| Genre | Historical, Drama | |
| Description | Henry Bolingbroke challenges Thomas Mowbray | |
| Location | ACT I, Scene 1 | |
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.
In this monologue, in ACT I, Scene 1, Henry Bolingbroke accuses Mowbray of being a traitor and a villain and challenges him to a duel.
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.
In this monologue, in ACT I, Scene 1, Henry Bolingbroke accuses Mowbray of being a traitor and a villain and challenges him to a duel.
Written by Administrator
| Excerpt |
|---|
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE First, heaven be the record to my speech! In the devotion of a subject's love, Tendering the precious safety of my prince, And free from other misbegotten hate, Come I appellant to this princely presence. Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, And mark my greeting well; for what I speak My body shall make good upon this earth, Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. 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. Once more, the more to aggravate the note, With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove. [THOMAS MOWBRAY Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal...] HENRY BOLINGBROKE Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, Disclaiming here the kindred of the king, And lay aside my high blood's royalty, Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. If guilty dread have left thee so much strength As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop: By that and all the rites of knighthood else, Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise. |
