How goes the day with us? O, tell me Hubert.

Badly I fear. How fares your majesty?

This fever that hath troubled me so long

5.3.42443Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick.

My lord, your valiant kinsman, Falconbridge,

5.3.62446Desires your Majesty to leave the field

5.3.72447And send him word by me which way you go.

Tell him toward Swinstead, to the Abbey there.

Be of good comfort, for the great supply

5.3.102450That was expected by the Dauphin here

5.3.112451Are wrecked three nights ago on Goodwin Sands.

5.3.122452This news was brought to Richard but even now.

5.3.132453The French fight coldly and retire themselves.

Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up

5.3.152455And will not let me welcome this good news.

5.3.162456Set on toward Swinsted. To my litter straight.

5.3.172457Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint.