know. I shall lose, but I know what moves in the dark. There are no surprises, be sure of that.
Randolph: Is there anything that Your Majesty would have me do?
Mary: Be a little sorry for your office, that is all. And remember me as I might have been. You know.
Randolph: You should have been fortunate, Madam. You would have borne it greatly.
Mary: You are right about Darnley. He sings bawdy songs at my window.
Randolph: That is lamentable.
Mary: No, it is part of the story. You might have heard him half an hour since. But do not believe all that you hear. David Riccio is nothing. I protect him, as I would my spaniel. But he will serve England's purpose well enough. Let it be. You play your recorder still?
Randolph: Yes, but indifferently.
Mary: Well, I thought when I heard you. Here is a precious one, of very mellow tone. (She takes it from its case.) It belonged to our French poet, Pierre Ronsard. Keep it for my sake. I ask nothing in return. There is nothing
