Alarums. Enter King John and Hubert
Enter a Messenger
My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge, Desires your majesty to leave the field And send him word by me which way you go.
Be of good comfort; for the great supply That was expected by the Dauphin here, Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin Sands. This news was brought to Richard but even now: The French fight coldly, and retire themselves.
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.