King John.
Now, say, Chatilion, what would France with us?

Chat.
Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France,
In my behaviour, to the Majesty,
The borrow'd Majesty of England here.

Eli.
A strange beginning; borrow'd Majesty!

K. John.
Silence, good mother; hear the embassie.

Chat.
Philip of France, in right and true behalf
Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son,
Arthur Plantagenet, lays lawful claim
To this fair island, and the territories:
To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine:
Desiring thee to lay aside the sword,
Which sways usurpingly these several titles;
And put the same into young Arthur's hand,
Thy nephew, and right-royal Sovereign.

K. John.
What follows, if we disallow of this?

Chat.
The proud controul of fierce and bloody war,
T' inforce these rights so forcibly with-held.

K. John.
Here have we war for war, and blood for blood,
Controulment for controulment; so answer France.

Chat.
Then take my King's defiance from my mouth,
The farthest limit of my embassie.

K. John.
Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace.
Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France,
For ere thou canst report, I will be there,
The thunder of my cannon shall be heard.
So, hence! be thou the trumpet of our wrath,
And sullen presage of your own decay.
An honourable conduct let him have,
Pembroke, look to't; farewel, Chatilion. [Exeunt Chat. and Pem.

Eli.
What now, my son, have I not ever said,
How that ambitious Constance would not cease,
Till she had kindled France and all the world,
Upon the right and party of her son?
This might have been prevented, and made whole
With very easy arguments of love;
Which now the manage of two kingdoms must
With fearful, bloody, issue arbitrate.

K. John.
Our strong possession, and our right for us—

Eli.
Your strong possession much more than your right,

Or else it must go wrong with you and me;
So much my conscience whispers in your ear,
Which none but heav'n, and you, and I shall hear.

Essex.
My Liege, here is the strangest controversie,
Come from the country to be judg'd by you,
That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men?

K. John.
Let them approach.
Our abbies and our priories shall pay
This expedition's charge—What men are you?

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