Enter Bushy

RICHARD        Bushy, what news?

BUSHY            Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord,

Suddenly taken, and hath sent post haste

To entreat your majesty to visit him.

RICHARD        Where lies he?

BUSHY            At Ely House.

RICHARD        Now put it, God, in his physician’s mind

To help him to his grave immediately.

The lining of his coffers shall make coats

To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.

Come, gentlemen, let’s all go visit him.

Pray God we may make haste and come too late.

[ALL]               Amen.                                                 Exeunt             (1.4.53-65)

So here’s the third of Richard’s trio of sidekicks (is Aumerle being sidelined here? some potential to play that), with news, serious and solemn news. Bushy delivers it impeccably, no spin (although there’s probably room for a nod and a wink): Gaunt has been suddenly taken grievous sick, and fears that he is dying; he wants to see the King, with all possible speed, post haste. Ely House is in London, historically the London residence of the bishops of Ely (although not by the 1590s, and it had indeed been the London residence of the historical John of Gaunt). Richard doesn’t come out of this well. He initially sounds pious—now put it, God, in his physician’s mind—as if he’s praying for guidance for Gaunt’s doctors. But quite the opposite: let the doctor help him to his grave immediately, expedite Gaunt’s death. Because Gaunt’s death would provide a new revenue stream to pay for the Irish wars, specifically here coats to deck our soldiers. There’s a 1590s resonance here—paying for equipment and garments for the English army in Ireland was a perennial problem—and coats doesn’t mean uniforms as such (which would be wholly anachronistic) but rather (probably) protective garments, which might be padded linen or leather, perhaps incorporating some chain mail or metal plates; they were also sometimes known as jacks. There’s a quibble here, perhaps, on linen and linings, and even on coffers and coffin; whatever, Richard is after Gaunt’s money. And a final cynical, even nasty touch: let’s all go visit him (because that’s exactly what a dying man wants, lots of visitors) and—another mock prayer—Pray God we may make haste and come too late; let him be so near death that even if we hurry we won’t make it in time. And the backing group add, Amen. Lovely. Richard doesn’t come out of this scene well, by turn petulant and obsessive, shallow, capricious, and spiteful, with a touch of blasphemy. And that’s the end of act 1…