Gaunt's Dying Words: an Exercize in Close Reading

John of Gaunt is a terrific character, if only because he makes a clever play on his name by way of insulting the king in 2.1. He argues that Richard II has made him "gaunt" by exiling his son, Bolingbroke, and forcing him to fast for want of looking on his child and heir: "And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt./ Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave,/ Whose hollow womb inherits naught but bones" (2.1.81-3) He, like Queen Margaret in Richard III, with her curses and prophecies, is sepulchral even in life and fulfills the purpose of foreshadowing doom. The image of Gaunt, withered but fierce, on his deathbed denouncing the king and predicting the end of his legacy is a wonderful image that, I imagine, is a pleasure for film and stage directors to bring to life.
As is the case with Queen Margaret, Gaunt's predictions that the king's greed and thirst for power will be his undoing, are fulfilled. "[Thou] art possessed now to despose thyself," he says after foretelling the king's imminent demise, later adding, "Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee" (2.1.138, 136). We can see from the genealogy chart in the front cover of the anthology that Richard II does in fact die and fail to produce an heir. (What a spoiler.)
But this is something that readers and theater-goers are lusting to see play out. Richard II is a lousy king, to say the least. He covertly orchestrates his uncle's assassination, banishes his cousin from the country, steals that cousin's inheritance for the purpose of funding a war on Ireland, and imposes unfair taxation and "blank bonds" on his people (also for the war). Gaunt is justified in calling him dishonorable. In his soliloquy on page 998 in the Norton, Gaunt makes the case that Richard II is defacing England's heritage and reputation with his irresponsible ruling. Gaunt disposes endless praise upon the country, calling it an Edenic "demi-paradise" (42), a fortress "defensive...against less happier lands" (48-9), and, somewhat ironically, renowned for its chivalry (as exemplified in the Crusades, which are now touted at the Greatest Failure in History). Sure, Gaunt might have an over-romanticized image of England, but this is all by way of contrast to the neglect Richard II shows the land and his subjects. He is completely wrapped up in his own agenda.
I don't know about you all, but the big question in my mind right now is how anyone would name his or her son after Richard II and expect things to go well. It's as if Richard II's faults are compounded by time and result in the total abomination that is Richard III generations later. He too chokes his own legacy with greed and blood-lust. But just as Richard III was somewhat possible to sympathize with, for his physical deformity and outcast status, I predict that Richard II will also prove to have some redeeming, or at least pitiable, qualities. And I also predict that Gaunt's ghost, either in memory or in body, will haunt the rest of the play.