Enter ROBERT HOOD, a young Nobleman, a Servant with him, with riding wands in their hands, as if they had been new-lighted.
ROB. Go, walk the horses, wait me on the hill;
This is the hermit's cell; go out of sight.
My business with him must not be reveal'd
To any mortal creature but himself.
SERV. I'll wait your honour in the cross highway. [Exit.
ROB. Do so. Hermit devout and reverend,
If drowsy age keep not thy stiffened joints
On thy unrestful bed, or if the hours
Of holy orisons detain thee not,
Come forth.
Enter SKINK, like an hermit.
SKINK. Good morrow, son,
Good morrow; and God bless thee, Huntington,
A brighter gleam of true nobility
Shines not in any youth more than in thee.
Thou shalt be rich in honour, full of speed;
Thou shalt win foes by fear, and friends by meed.
ROB. Father, I come not now to know my fate;
Important business urgeth princely Richard [Deliver letters.
In these terms to salute thy reverent age.
Read and be brief; I know some cause of trust
Made him employ me for his messenger.
SKINK. A cause of trust indeed, true-honoured youth.
Princes had need, in matters of import,
To make nice choice. Fair earl, if I not err,
Thou art the prince's ward?
ROB. Father, I am
His ward, his chamberlain, and bed-fellow.
SKINK. Fair fall thee, honourable Robert Hood!
Wend to Prince Richard: say, though I am loth
To use my skill in conjuration,
Yet Skink, that poisoned red-cheek'd Rosamond,
Shall make appearance at the parliament;
He shall be there by noon, assure his grace.