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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