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Definition of Irony
Irony is a literary device or event in which how things seem to be is in fact very different from how they actually are. If this seems like a loose definition... read full definition
Irony is a literary device or event in which how things seem to be is in fact very different from how they actually are. If this... read full definition
Irony is a literary device or event in which how things seem to be is in fact very different from how... read full definition
Act 3, Scene 2
Explanation and Analysis—Wounds by Flattery:
King Richard II paradoxically suggests that flattering but false words are more wounding than open hostility. When his loyal ally, the Duke of Aumerle, urges him to remain optimistic in the face of Henry Bolingbroke’s rebellion, the King lashes out at him, stating:
He does me double wrong
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
Related Themes:
Act 4, Scene 1
Explanation and Analysis—All Hail!:
In a speech heavily laden with verbal irony, Richard, who is being dethroned in favor of Henry Bolingbroke, insults Bolingbroke and the other defecting lords by pretending that he needs more time to learn how to “flatter” a King, having until this very moment been one himself. Speaking before Bolingbroke and his allies, Richard states:
Unlock with LitCharts A+I hardly yet have learned
To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee.
Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me
To this submission. Yet I well remember
The favors of these men. Were they not mine?
Did they not sometime cry “All hail” to me?
Related Themes:
Act 5, Scene 5
Explanation and Analysis—Times Wastes Me:
Imprisoned after his dethronement, Richard, formerly King Richard II, ironically states that time itself could use him as a clock, rather than him using a clock to measure time. In a soliloquy addressed to nobody in particular, he states:
Unlock with LitCharts A+I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;
For now hath time made me his numb’ring clock.
My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar
Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
Whereto my finger, like a dial’s point,
Is pointing still in cleansing them from tears.
