Sir John, thy tender lambkin now is king;
Harry the Fifth’s the man. I speak the truth:
The king is dead. Long live the king. But not before a little more blather from Falstaff and a few of his pals. I still fail to see the point. Falstaff and the boys are engaged in yet more revelry (imagine it) when word comes that the king has died. He wastes no time in heading off to court. He arrives shortly after the coronation and is told by the king himself, in no uncertain terms, that he is persona non grata. Putting away childish things and whatnot, I suppose. Falstaff’s pals are hauled off to the big house but if I read it right Falstaff himself remains free.