Chatillion

King John
Now say, Chatillion, what would France with us?
Chatillion
Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France
In my behavior to the majesty,

The borrowed majesty, of England here.
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Be thou the trumpet of our wrath
And sullen presage of your own decay.

Chatillion
Then turn your forces from this paltry siege
And stir them up against a mightier task.
England, impatient of your just demands,
Hath put himself in arms. The adverse winds,
Whose leisure I have stayed, have given him time
To land his legions all as soon as I.
His marches are expedient to this town,
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