GAUNT            God’s is the quarrel, for God’s substitute,

His deputy anointed in his sight,

Hath caused his death, the which if wrongfully

Let heaven revenge, for I may never lift

An angry arm against his minister.

DUCHESS       Where then, alas, may I complain myself?

GAUNT            To God, the widow’s champion and defence.

DUCHESS       Why then I will. (1.2.37-44)

Gaunt is adamant: vengeance is God’s alone. (Another aspect to this exchange is its demonstration of where Bolingbroke gets his immoveable stubbornness from.) But he’s playing a long game here, in reminding both the Duchess and the audience that Richard, as King, is God’s substitute, his deputy anointed in his sight. The quarrel is already God’s, for this reason, Gaunt argues, as he states, unequivocally, that Gloucester’s death was Richard’s responsibility. He still retains some room to move: even if the King gave the order, it may still have been justified (if Gloucester was a traitor, as, historically, he seems to have been); if he was murdered wrongfully then vengeance must still be left to God, because Gaunt himself is utterly loyal to the king. I may never lift an angry arm against his minister, he says, not can never but may never; it is not a matter simply of his will and ability but of (divine) prohibition. King Richard is God’s minister, his deputy on earth, untouchable for life.

The Duchess is—angry? despairing? resigned? Who’s going to listen to me, if not you, my brother in law? Where can I get justice? And Gaunt is conventional, if pious (and resigned? consoling? gentle?): complain to God, the widow’s champion and defence. Why then I will (again, could be played in any number of ways). But she’s not quite finished yet.