Mary: He's a poor thing, very inconsiderable. But it may happen.
Beaton: What, Madam?
Mary: He threatens Riccio.
Beaton: Cannot you satisfy him?
Mary: No. But I have no wish to.
Beaton: We must warn Riccio.
Mary: It would be useless. No, David must take his chance. He knows that there's danger. It's wrong, though, that so slight a man as Darnley should be able to hurt me even so much. Riccio's no matter, really. But if my lord touches him he shall pay as though Riccio were all. Where is Riccio?
Beaton: He was in the yard there, looking out over the town, scraping moss from the wall with his finger. He seemed nervous, I thought.
Mary: That would be monstrous—to have such a man made into a great stake. But it may be.
- (Darnley is heard singing below the window)
Who's in the Queen's chamber?
Master Italian Thrift.
What's the Queen wearing?
Her long hair and her shift.
