"Donna Bianca, if you command it, I will be."
"Then, signior, I lay on you my sovereign behest to furbish up your
lungs and other vocal organs, as they will be wanted on my royal
service."
"Who would not be the Rizzio of so divine a Mary?"
"A fig for Rizzio!" cried she, tossing her head with all its
curls, as she moved to the piano. "It is my opinion the fiddler
David must have been an insipid sort of fellow; I like black Bothwell
better: to my mind a man is nothing without a spice of the devil
in him; and history may say what it will of James Hepburn, but I
have a notion, he was just the sort of wild, fierce, bandit hero
whom I could have consented to gift with my hand."
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