RICHARD        What must the King do now? Must he submit?

The King shall do it. Must he be deposed?

The King shall be contented. Must he lose

The name of king? In God’s name, let it go.            (3.3.142-145)

This is just the beginning of a long, complex, histrionic speech. Richard’s the one making all the running, using words like submit and depose; Bolingbroke hasn’t explicitly raised the question of Richard’s abdication at all, although it’s been abundantly clear that that’s what’s at stake. Paradoxically, in articulating the nature of the crisis, Richard is setting its terms, both in what he says and in how he says it. The King, repeatedly, in the third person. Pushing at the suggestion of compulsion, must he, must he, must he? The formulation of the name of king – what does that count for? Is it really as insignificant as in God’s name, let it go would suggest? The tone is formal, magnanimous, magnificent: the King shall, the King shall. But Richard’s self-reflexive call and response, his putting of a series of questions which he then, apparently straightforwardly, answers himself, is about to give way to something much stranger and slipperier, and much more ambiguous as to his true understanding of his situation and his intentions.