BOLINGBROKE O heinous, strong and bold conspiracy!
O loyal father of a treacherous son!
Thou sheer immaculate and silver fountain
From whence this stream through muddy passages
Hath held his current and defiled himself!
Thy overflow of good converts to bad
And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
This deadly blot in thy digressing son. (5.3.58-65)
This is going to continue to be a rollercoaster. Bolingbroke lets rip, leaving in no doubt that he understands the seriousness of the plot against him which has just been exposed: o heinous, strong and bold conspiracy! This wasn’t a trivial, half-baked scheme: he’s seen who was involved, the numbers, the planning; it had the strength and audacity to succeed. But Bolingbroke knows he’s got two concerns to balance here, Aumerle’s treason and York’s extreme loyalty, not to his son but to his king. O loyal father of a treacherous son! (Aumerle flinches.) His image of the sheer immaculate and silver fountain, its waters pure and clear, is a commonplace in political discourse, figuring (for example) the way in which a political leader (or, here, a parent) is the source of life, the determinant of well-being, for nation, community, children. If the fountain is poisoned or polluted, then the land, or the family, suffer. And York has been that pure, unpolluted source, and he still is. Despite his unimpeachable morality (he is immaculate, unspotted, without sin) and the fine example he has set his son, the excellence of Aumerle’s upbringing, however, that son has still gone astray. He has found muddy passages, flowed through them (held his current) and defiled himself. It’s as if York’s goodness has been so abundant that it has overflowed, converting to bad as it seeks other outlets, other channels. (We saw Aumerle, right from the start of the play, just a bit too anxious to please, to be heard, to be in with the cool kids, making them laugh. He’s been spoiled.) (Aumerle is cringing.) But, says Bolingbroke, York’s virtue outweighs his son’s (intended) villainy: thy abundant goodness shall excuse this deadly blot in thy digressing son. Bolingbroke’s metaphor of the fountain is, as I say, a conventional one, but it’s beautifully constructed. The deadly blot is cleansed by the immaculate, spotless stream (a macula is a spot or a stain); Aumerle has digressed, deviating, turning aside from the right path (or channel) into muddy passages, wandering, erring. The conclusion—that Aumerle is safe, excused by his father’s loyalty and virtue—is held off until almost the very end. (Aumerle, perhaps, collapses in disbelieving relief.) But this is only the start…
