RICHARD Northumberland, say thus the King returns:
His noble cousin is right welcome hither,
And all the number of his fair demands
Shall be accomplished without contradiction.
With all the gracious utterance thou hast
Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.
[Northumberland returns to Bolingbroke]
[to Aumerle] We do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not,
To look so poorly and to speak so fair?
Shall we call back Northumberland and send
Defiance to the traitor and so die?
AUMERLE No, good my lord, let’s fight with gentle words
Till time lend friends and friends their helpful swords. (3.3.120-131)
It’s not quite that Richard crumples—he’s certainly magnificently high-handed, even rude, with Northumberland—but after his astonishing speech of defiance, this is a rapid, total capitulation, at least to Bolingbroke’s demands as framed by Northumberland. He is immaculately courteous, as well as majestic (speaking of himself in the third person): Bolingbroke is his noble cousin, who is right welcome hither; all the number of his fair demands (fair as in rightful or fair as in goodly, pleasing?) shall be accomplished without contradiction. I make no argument; I’m not going to stand in his way. And then a dig at Northumberland, whom he is not acknowledging in any capacity other than as Bolingbroke’s messenger: do you think you can manage to do that? to speak to his gentle hearing kind commends with all the gracious utterance thou hast? (It could be delivered anxiously, please put in a good word for me, make it absolutely clear that I’ll do what Bolingbroke wants, but I think that Richard is twistier than that; he’s almost parodying himself in this self-abasement, gracious, gentle, kind. You traitor, Northumberland, you crawling traitor. No wonder Northumberland heads back to Bolingbroke without another word.) The aside to Aumerle confirms it: we do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not, to look so poorly and to speak so fair, to give in so swiftly, make such an abject show, even though we’re being so polite and gracious? Shall we call back Northumberland and send defiance to the traitor and so die? Even though it would mean certain death, shall we refuse these demands, defy Bolingbroke (even though he’s got an army at his back), call him a traitor again, and so die, go down fighting in a blaze of glory? Aumerle, for once, says the right thing: no, good my lord, let’s fight with gentle words. Richard is good with words; he is gentle, conciliatory, polite, and also noble, honourable. Help will come: time will lend friends, and friends their helpful swords. This seems wishful thinking: what aid is Aumerle envisaging? How many of Richard’s friends even remain alive? But it allows Aumerle to supply a reassuring, comfortable couplet, albeit not quite perfectly rhymed.
