GLO. Still good, still passing good; Gloster is still Henry's true hate, foe to John's froward will, No more of that: for them in better time. If this same hermit be an honest man, He will protect me by his[517] simple life; If not, I care not; I'll be ever Gloster, Make him my footstool, if he be a slave, For baseness over worth can have no power. Robin, bethink thee, thou art come from kings, Then scorn to be [a] slave to underlings, Look well about thee, lad, and thou shalt see Them burst in envy, that would injure thee. Hermit, I'll meet you in your hermit's gown, Honest, I'll love you: worse, I'll knock you down. [_Exit_. SCENE THE TWENTY-EIGHTH. _Enter_ PRINCE RICHARD, _with music_. P. RICH. Kind friends, we have troubled Lady Fauconbridge, And either she's not willing to be seen, Or else not well, or with our boldness griev'd, To ease these, I have brought you to this window, Knowing you are in music excellent. I have penn'd a ditty here, and I desire You would sing it for her love and my content. MUS. With all my heart, my lord. _Enter_ ROBIN HOOD, _like the_ LADY [FAUCONBRIDGE]. ROB. Your excellence forgets your princely worth; If I may humbly crave it at your hands, Let me desire this music be dismiss'd. RICH. Forbear, I pray, and withdraw yourselves; Be not offended, gracious Marian. [_Exeunt music_. Under the upper heaven nine goodly spheres Turn with a motion ever, musical; In palaces of kings melodious sounds Offer pleasures to their sovereigns ears. In temples, milk-white-clothed quiristers Sing sacred anthems, bowing to the shrine; And in the fields whole quires of winged clerks Salute the[518] morning bright and crystalline. Then blame not me; you are my heaven, my queen: My saint, my comfort, brighter than the morn. To you all music and all praise is due; For your delight, for you,[519] delight was born. The world would have no mirth, no joy, no day, If from the world your beauty were away. ROB. Fie on love's blasphemy and forgery, To call that joy[520] that's only misery! I, that am wedded to suspicious age, Solicited by your lascivious youth; I, that have [only] one poor comfort living-- Gloster my brother, my high-hearted brother-- He flies for fear, lest he should faint, and fall Into the hands of hate tyrannical. RICH. What would you I should do? ROB. I would full fain My brother Gloster had his peace again. RICH. Shall love be my reward, if I do bring A certain token of his good estate, And after pacify my brother's wrath? Say you will love, he[521] will be fortunate! ROB. I will. RICH. No more; I vow to die unblest If I perform not this imposed quest. But one word, madam; pray, can you tell Where Huntington my ward is? ROB. I was bold To send young Robin Hood, your noble ward, Upon some business of import for me.