_K. John._ Why do you bend such solemn brows on me? 90 Think you I bear the shears of destiny? Have I commandment on the pulse of life? _Sal._ It is apparent foul play; and 'tis shame[477] That greatness should so grossly offer it: So thrive it in your game! and so, farewell. 95 _Pem._ Stay yet, Lord Salisbury; I'll go with thee, And find the inheritance of this poor child, His little kingdom of a forced grave. That blood which owed the breadth of all this isle,[478] Three foot of it doth hold: bad world the while! 100 This must not be thus borne: this will break out To all our sorrows, and ere long I doubt. [_Exeunt Lords._[479] _K. John._ They burn in indignation. I repent:[480][481] There is no sure foundation set on blood,[481] No certain life achieved by others' death.[481] 105 _Enter a_ Messenger.[482] 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? _Mess._ From France to England. Never such a power[483] 110 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 arrived.[484] 115 _K. John._ O, where hath our intelligence been drunk? Where hath it slept? Where is my mother's care,[485] That such an army could be drawn in France, And she not hear of it? _Mess._ My liege, her ear Is stopp'd with dust; the first of April died 120 Your noble mother: and, as I hear, my lord, The Lady Constance in a frenzy died Three days before: but this from rumour's tongue I idly heard; if true or false I know not. _K. John._ Withhold thy speed, dreadful occasion! 125 O, make a league with me, till I have pleased My discontented peers! What! mother dead![486] How wildly then walks my estate in France! Under whose conduct came those powers of France[487] That thou for truth givest out are landed here? 130 _Mess._ Under the Dauphin.[488] _K. John._ Thou hast made me giddy With these ill tidings. _Enter the_ BASTARD _and_ PETER _of Pomfret_.[489] Now, what says the world To your proceedings? do not seek to stuff My head with more ill news, for it is full. _Bast._ But if you be afeard to hear the worst,[490] 135 Then let the worst unheard fall on your head.