Epilogue to Previous Post: What I'm afraid of

King Henry IV, Part 2.
Act V, Scene V

Enter the King and his train

Falstaff: God save thy grace, King Hal! my royal Hal!

Pistol: The heavens thee guard and keep, most royal imp of fame!

Falstaff: God save thee, my sweet boy!

King: My lord chief-justice, speak to that vain man.

Chief Justice: Have you your wits? Know what tis you speak?

Falstaff: My King! My Jove! I speak to thee, my heart!

King: I know thee not, old man: fall to thy prayers; How ill white hairs become a fool and jester! I have long dream'd of such a kind of man, so surfeit-swell'd, so old and so profane; But, being awaked, I do despise my dream. Make less they body hence, and more thy grace; Leave gormandizing; know the grave doth gape for thee thrice wider than for other men. Reply not to me with a fool-born jest: Presume not that I am the thing I was; For God doth know, so shall the world perceive, that I have turn'd away from my former self; So will I those that kept me company.