RICHARD Then call them to our presence. Face to face,
And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear
The accuser and the accusèd freely speak.
High-stomached are they both and full of ire,
In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.
Enter Bolingbroke and Mowbray
BOLINGBROKE Many years of happy days befall
My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege.
MOWBRAY Each day still better other’s happiness,
Until the heavens, envying earth’s good hap,
Add an immortal title to your crown. (1.1.15-24)
Richard, in control, gracious and impartial. Some editors add a stage direction suggesting that attendants go to summon the two men; it would be something of an insult to Gaunt for Richard’s instruction, call them to our presence, to be delivered specifically to him (but not impossible, especially if the company is small). Our presence is significant here: it’s emphasizing the special power of the monarch’s person, his aura, and the way in which that will enable this formal, near-judicial encounter to proceed. Richard locates his authority in his body, that singular power contrasted here with the doubling of face to face and brow to brow that he anticipates. This play will be interested in singular things that become multiple, and in doubles: Bolingbroke and Mowbray are introduced symmetrically, as if they are reflections of each other, accuser and the accusèd. The continued use of the royal plural is part of that patterning: ourselves. High-stomached is loaded: these men are courageous, but also bold, arrogant, getting above themselves; there’s potentially a touch of indulgence here (these hot-heads! aren’t they a bit silly, getting in each other’s faces, scowling at each other), reinforced by the couplet, fire/ire. They’re so enraged they are deaf as the sea (deaf to reason?); they are hasty as fire (and as easily quenched?) Will they burn each other out? (But accusations of treason, and the exercise of the royal prerogative, these are deadly serious. Richard is no fool.)
When Bolingbroke (I’m going to call him that, for consistency’s sake, although he’s not named as such for a while yet) and Mowbray enter, the formality continues. But it’s immediately competitive, in their protestations of loyalty to the king: Bolingbroke is clear, concise, his two lines wishing the king many years of happy days (long life!) and also addressing him as gracious and most loving, thus encouraging the king to look favourably on him and his suit. Mowbray jostles for superiority, speaking three lines to Bolingbroke’s two, and wishing the king not simply happy days but for every day to be happier than the last, until the end of Richard’s life, when heaven, jealous of the earth’s good fortune in possessing him, gives him an immortal title. Possibly a miscalculation in this particular compliment? never a good idea to imagine the sovereign’s death, to admit that his life is as bounded as that of other mortals, even if only in order to praise him. Fewer words, less elaborate rhetoric can sometimes be more potent, as Bolingbroke will very much go on to demonstrate.
