[Exeunt LORDS.]

KING JOHN.
They burn in indignation. I repent:
There is no sure foundation set on blood;
No certain life achiev'd by others' death.--

[Enter a MESSENGER.]

A fearful eye thou hast: where is that blood
That I have seen inhabit in those cheeks?
So foul a sky clears not without a storm:
Pour down thy weather:--how goes all in France?

MESSENGER.
From France to England.--Never such a power
For any foreign preparation
Was levied in the body of a land.
The copy of your speed is learn'd by them;
For when you should be told they do prepare,
The tidings comes that they are all arriv'd.

KING JOHN.
O, where hath our intelligence been drunk?
Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care,
That such an army could be drawn in France,
And she not hear of it?

MESSENGER.