2525Dol. The Sun of heauen (me thought) was loth to set;

2526But staid, and made the Westerne Welkin blush,

2527When English measure backward their owne ground

2528In faint Retire: Oh brauely came we off,

2529When with a volley of our needlesse shot,

2530After such bloody toile, we bid good night,

2531And woon'd our tott'ring colours clearly vp,

2532Last in the field, and almost Lords of it.

2534Mes. Where is my Prince, the Dolphin?

2535Dol. Heere: what newes?

2536Mes. The Count Meloone is slaine: The English Lords

2537By his perswasion, are againe falne off,

2538And your supply, which you haue wish'd so long,

2539Are cast away, and sunke on Goodwin sands.

2540Dol. Ah fowle, shrew'd newes. Beshrew thy very (hart:

2541I did not thinke to be so sad to night

2542As this hath made me. Who was he that said

2543King Iohn did flie an houre or two before

2544The stumbling night did part our wearie powres?

2545Mes. Who euer spoke it, it is true my Lord.

2546Dol. Well: keepe good quarter, & good care to night,

2547The day shall not be vp so soone as I,

2548To try the faire aduenture of to morrow. Exeunt