Mowbray metaphorically compares a man whose reputation has been questioned to various “false” treasures. Speaking before the King and his court, Mowbray turns down efforts to find a peaceful resolution to his conflict with Bolingbroke, stating:
The purest treasure mortal times afford
Is spotless reputation; that away,
Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
A jewel in a ten-times-barred-up chest
Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast.
Emphasizing the importance of defending one’s reputation, Mowbray insists that if anyone were to question his honesty and virtue, then his personal value would be only artificial. He uses some closely related metaphors that suggest deceptive or false value, such as “gilded loam,” or soil painted gold, and “painted clay,” a cheap material that has been made to look expensive. Mowbray’s metaphors suggest that a man whose reputation has been sullied by slander can never be trusted by others and is therefore worthless. He might seem valuable, but this appearance is merely superficial, masking an untrustworthy nature.
Conversely, Mowbray uses the metaphor of a “jewel in a ten-times-barred-up chest” to describe a person who is known to be “loyal” and true. This metaphor implies that such a person's value is secure, like a valuable jewel kept safe in a chest. This image is a stark contrast to merely “gilded” soil or “painted” clay, suggesting true value that cannot be impugned or stolen by others. A man’s honor, then, is what defines him and makes him trustworthy. Mowbray uses these metaphors to justify his desire to duel Bolingbroke and publicly restore his reputation, despite the King’s desire to end the conflict without bloodshed.
King Richard II uses a series of medical metaphors in urging Mowbray and Bolingbroke not to resort to violence in resolving their bitter dispute. Urging the two men not to be ruled by their own anger, he states:
Let’s purge this choler without letting blood.
This we prescribe, though no physician.
Deep malice makes too deep incision.
Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed.
Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.
Metaphorically, Richard speaks from the position of a doctor or physician who prescribes that his patients, Mowbray and Bolingbroke, reach some conclusion other than “letting blood,” a common medical practice in Shakespeare’s day that is here used by Richard as a metaphor for violence. Instead, he recommends that they find another way to “purge this choler,” one of the “humors” or bodily fluids believed to produce anger. The metaphorical "purging" of choler suggests that the men should rid themselves of their anger, but without causing harm to themselves or others. Richard, then, uses a metaphor which treats the strong feelings of anger that this dispute has raised as symptoms of a bodily imbalance that can only be treated by calming down rather than giving in to anger.
Richard’s metaphor emphasizes the importance of forgiveness and reconciliation, and he urges the men to "forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed." He suggests that holding onto strong feelings of anger and malice is like making a "deep incision" that can cause lasting harm. Instead, he suggests that they should try to come to a peaceful resolution to their conflict.
Mowbray, the Duke of York, uses metaphors related to horse-riding to describe his inability to speak freely and give full voice to his anger in front of King Richard II. Speaking before the royal court to respond to Henry Bolingbroke’s accusations of murder and treason, Mowbray states:
First, the fair reverence of your Highness curbs me
From giving reins and spurs to my free speech,
Which else would post until it had returned
These terms of treason doubled down his throat.
“Reins and spurs” are used by a horse-rider to control and limit a horse’s actions. Likewise, Mowbray suggests that he is unable to let his rage express itself freely due to the high level of decorum with which he must act in front of the King. Mowbray, then, both flatters the King by pointing to his “fair reverence" and emphasizes his own sense of outrage by suggesting that it is far deeper than what he can openly express in court.
Mowbray’s metaphor of “reins and spurs,” then, is strategic, underscoring the very different rhetorical tactics employed by Mowbray and Bolingbroke. While Bolingbroke spoke with great passion and anger in delivering his accusations, Mowbray attempts to keep a cool head. Understanding that his calm demeanor might make him seem dishonest, he insists here that he refrains from venting his outrage only out of respect for the presence of the King.
The Duchess of Gloucester uses both a simile and a related metaphor for understanding genealogy in her speech to John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster. The Duchess states:
Edward’s seven sons, whereof thyself art one,
Were as seven vials of his sacred blood
Or seven fair branches springing from one root.
Some of those seven are dried by nature’s course,
Some of those branches by the Destinies cut.
But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester,
One vial full of Edward’s sacred blood,
One flourishing branch of his most royal root,
Is cracked and all the precious liquor spilt
Her speech here draws on the use of the word “blood” to understand paternity and imagines, in a simile, that the seven sons of the former King Edward are seven vials of his blood that preserve some essence of his identity. She uses this simile to persuade John of Gaunt to avenge the murder of the Duke of Gloucester, her husband and his brother, who she describes as a “viall full of Edward’s sacred blood” that has been “cracked,” its “precious liquor spilt.”
Further, she draws from the implicit metaphor of a “family tree” in figuring the seven brothers as “branches” that spring from their father, the root. Some of these branches have “dried by nature’s course,” or died by natural causes, and others have been “cut” early by destiny. Here, her metaphors emphasize the extent to which a person “lives on” past their own death in their children. Whoever murdered the Duke of Gloucester, then, has also in some sense injured his father, the deceased former King, who lives on through his descendants.
In a striking metaphor, Mowbray compares his own mouth to a prison after being exiled permanently from England by King Richard II. Stunned by this harsh punishment, Mowbray responds to the King and his entourage:
Within my mouth you have enjailed my tongue,
Doubly portcullised with my teeth and lips,
And dull unfeeling barren ignorance
Is made my jailor to attend on me.
Mowbray reflects mournfully on life outside of England, in parts of the world where very few people spoke English in the medieval period. Unable to speak in his native language, he imagines that his tongue will be “enjailed” or imprisoned in his mouth, unable to venture out or communicate freely with others. Extending the metaphor of a prison, he imagines that his teeth and lips will serve as a portcullis, a heavy metal gate used in medieval castles and prisons to prevent intruders from entering or prisoners from escaping. In other words, he imagines that when he is unable to speak English, his teeth and lips will serve as the bars of a jail cell, imprisoning his own tongue.
Mowbray’s metaphor emphasizes his deep pain at being exiled from England and the many difficulties that are sure to follow while abroad. While exile might be a lighter sentence than execution or imprisonment, he insists that it will be in some ways akin to being a prisoner. In particular, Mowbray highlights the fact that he will never again be able to communicate with others in English, a language that he considers central to his identity as an Englishman.
The Queen uses a series of closely related metaphors regarding motherhood and childbirth in order to make sense of the political dangers that threaten her husband, the King. When Green, a member of the King’s retinue, tells her and Bushy of the defection of the Earl of Worcester to Bolingbroke’s rebellion, she states:
So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe,
And Bolingbroke my sorrow’s dismal heir.
Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy,
And I, a gasping new-delivered mother,
Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow joined.
In an extended metaphor, she first compares Green, who has brought her dire news regarding Bolingbroke’s rebellion, to a “midwife” who assists a pregnant woman in birth—in other words, he is “delivering” her woe to her as a midwife delivers a baby. Similarly, Bolingbroke, whose rebellion threatens to destabilize her husband’s reign, is the “heir” or child of the sorrows to which she has given birth. Accordingly, the Queen imagines herself as a “gasping new-delivered mother” whose children have brought her nothing but woe and sorrow.
The Queen’s speech here casts the political conflict that ultimately brings an end to the reign of King Richard II in domestic and familial terms that underscore her role as wife to the King of England. Rather than giving birth to the future King of the nation, as she once expected, she now instead imagines herself surrounded by the misery which her soul has “brought forth” through birth.
In a series of botanical metaphors, Bolingbroke compares Bushy, Bagot, and Green, attendants to King Richard II, to “caterpillars” whom he intends to “weed” from the garden of the English nation. Speaking to the Duke of York, he states:
But we must win your Grace to go with us
To Bristow Castle, which they say is held
By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices,
The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.
Bolingbroke’s metaphor imagines the flattering courtiers, Bushy, Bagot, and Green, as “caterpillars” who have greedily eaten up the plants in a garden. Just as a gardener might eliminate such pests in order to maintain the health of the garden, so too does Bolingbroke suggest that it is his duty to “weed and pluck away” these figures who have threatened the security of the nation. In characterizing them as parasites, Bolingbroke insinuates that they have used up the wealth of England for their own personal pleasure and enrichment.
At this point in the play, Bolingbroke is not yet willing to announce his intention to dethrone Richard directly, and he maintains the pretense that his rebellion is aimed not at the King but at his retinue. He uses these botanical metaphors in order to cast his actions not as a violent revolution, but instead as an attempt to save the King and the nation from a small group of corrupt officials.
In one of the few soliloquies in this play, Richard uses metaphor to reflect on his extreme isolation in prison.
Yet I’ll hammer it out.
My brain I’ll prove the female to my soul,
My soul the father, and these two beget
A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
And these same thoughts people this little world,
In humors like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented.
Richard II is in many ways a very “public” play, and most of its scenes take place in crowded courts or halls of government. Previously surrounded by a retinue of attendants, the imprisoned Richard finds himself truly alone for the first time in the play, and he imagines himself as occupying a community of one. In this deeply metaphorical speech, the thoughts produced by his brain and the feelings produced by his soul are imagined as a father and mother who together produce an entire “generation of still-breeding thoughts.” His concerns, woes, and worries, then, are so numerous as to populate an entire “world” in his prison cell, which grows in number as each anxious thought he has produces even more similar thoughts. In this dark mood, Richard concludes that his thoughts really are like the “people of the world,” as all are discontent.