Fal.

Heav'n save thy Grace, King Hal, my royal Hal!

Pist.

The heav'ns thee guard and keep, most royal imp of fame!

Fal.

Heav'n save thee, my sweet boy!

King.
My Lord Chief Justice, speak to that vain man.

Ch. Just.
Have you your wits? know you what 'tis you speak?

Fal.
My King, my Jove, I speak to thee, my heart.

King.
* ^noteI 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 awake, I do despise my dream.
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 heav'n doth know, so shall the world perceive,
That I have turn'd away my former self,
So will I those that kept me company.
When thou dost hear I am as I have been,
Approach me, and thou shalt be as thou wast,
The tutor and the feeder of my riots;
Till then I banish thee, on pain of death,
As I have done the rest of my mis-leaders,
Not to come near our person, by ten miles.
For competence of life, I will allow you,
That lack of means enforce you not to evil:
And as we hear you do reform yourselves,
We will, according to your strength and qualities,
Give you advancement. Be't your charge, my Lord,
To see perform'd the tenour of our word.
Set on. [Trumpets sound. Exit King, &c.

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