Another gauntlet flung down: name the day! (1.1.142-151) #KingedUnkinged

MOWBRAY                             As for the rest appealed,

It issues from the rancour of a villain,

A recreant and most degenerate traitor,

Which in myself I boldly will defend

And interchangeably hurl down my gage

Upon this overweening traitor’s foot

To prove myself a loyal gentleman

Even in the best blood chambered in his bosom.

[He throws down his gage. Bolingbroke takes it up]

In haste whereof most heartily I pray

Your highness to assign our trial day. (1.1.142-151)

Mowbray’s mostly playing the man again, insulting Bolingbroke rather than properly refuting his accusations. Bolingbroke’s doing this out of rancour, spite and bitterness, he says, it’s personal to him; he is, again, a villain, not simply a miscreant but common, a peasant, betraying his class and its codes. He is (a) recreant (it could be either noun or adjective here), faithless, an oathbreaker. It’s a good medieval term: a recreant is a knight who is dishonourable, who betrays his lord and his vows of chivalry, loyalty, service; sometimes it has the implication of going soft, which goes with degenerate, although that suggests more a decline from knightly values than straight out moral degeneracy here. And Mowbray’s not going to stand here any longer and be insulted by this man, whose accusations he returns with interest. He throws down his own gage interchangeably (this means in exchange with Bolingbroke’s, rather than that everyone’s wearing identical gloves), upon this overweening traitor’s foot (more violently directed than Bolingbroke, who simply threw his down). Overweening means presumptuous; it’s also a word that could be applied to courtiers getting above themselves, for example, full of pride. I will prove myself a loyal gentleman (gentleman is a word that resonates, perhaps, even more in a 1590s context than the more purely chivalric language of recreancy) by shedding his blood in judicial combat, the best, royal blood that is chambered in his bosom. He will, in effect, stab Bolingbroke in the heart. Enough talking: it’s up to you, the King, to set the date for our formal trial by combat. And Mowbray ends his furious speech with a final, defiant, albeit predictable couplet.

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