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Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of time, Before we reckon with your several loves, And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen, Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland In such an honor named. What's more to do, Which would be planted newly with the time, As calling home our exiled friends abroad, That fled the snares of watchful tyranny; Producing forth the cruel ministers Of this dead butcher, and his fiendlike queen; Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands Took off her life; - this, and what needful else That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace, We will perform in measure, time, and place; So thanks to all at once, and to each one, Whom we invite to see us crowned at Scone.
Bretagne, the elder Brother of King John.
King Richard the First.
Earl of Nortplain to the Ki Faulconbridgeno
PHILIP, King of France.
ELINOR, the Widow of King Henry II. and Mother of King
John. Constance, Mother to Arthur. BLANCH, Daughter to Alphonso, King of Castile, and Niece
to King John. LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, Mother to the Bastard, and Robert
Lords, Ladies, Citizens of Angiers, Sheriff, Heralds, Officers,
Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.
SCENE, sometimes in England, and sometimes in France.
SCENE I. Northampton. A Room of State in the Palace. Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, Essex,
SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON. King John. Now, say, Chatillon, what would France
Eli. A strange beginning;- borrowed majesty!
Chat. Philip of France, in right and true behalf
K. John. What follows, if we disallow of this ?
Chat. The proud control of fierce and bloody war, To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld.
K. John. Here have we war for war, and blood for blood, Controlment for controlment; so answer France.
Chat. Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, The furthest limit of my embassy.
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,