He was very dead
Darnley laughed．‘You are my wife， Mary—not David Ric－cio's！’he said．‘so why are you with him every evening？You never talk to me！’
‘I don't talk to you because you are never here！’I said．‘You are always drinking with your friends！ You aren't a king， you're a stupid boy！’
He laughed again． It was not a nice laugh．‘Well，’he said．‘Perhaps I am a boy， but that is better than David Riccio，now．Do you want to go and see him？’
I did see him， five minutes after that． He was very dead，and there was blood all over the floor． Poor David Riccio． He sings to God now， not me．
I looked at Henry Darnley， my husband． He had a stupid smile on his face． But I think he was afraid of me．I looked at him a long time， and the smile went away．
