The Same. A Field of Battle. |
|
Alarums. Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT. |
K. John. How goes the day with us? O! tell me, Hubert. |
Hub. Badly, I fear. How fares your majesty? |
K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so long, |
Lies heavy on me: O! my heart is sick. |
|
Enter a Messenger. |
Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, |
Desires your majesty to leave the field, |
And send him word by me which way you go. |
K. John. Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the abbey there. |
Mess. Be of good comfort: for the great supply |
That was expected by the Dauphin here, |
Are wrack'd three nights ago on Goodwin sands. |
This news was brought to Richard but even now. |
The French fight coldly, and retire themselves. |
K. John. Ay me! this tyrant fever burns me up, |
And will not let me welcome this good news. |
Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight; |
Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. [Exeunt. |
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