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complains so much about the Queen's stays being tight, for she has her own so tight it is a wonder she does not pop out the top. The two of them sat down, with Penelope between them. She looked like a little brown mouse in her tawny velvet.
    Lady Jane rolled her eyes at me and smiled in that annoyingly superior way she has. “Did you know that with you in your rose velvet and Carmina in crimson, your gowns are clashing terribly?” she said to me. “Why not have Lady Sarah sit beside you so her hair can join the fun?”
    Lady Sarah tossed her hair so the ringlets bounced. “At least mine is the same colour as the Queen's,” she snipped, and Lady Jane looked daggers at her.
    Meanwhile the Scottish Ambassadors arrived and sat in a row, looking like pints of vinegar, they were so sour with disapproval at the heathen mumming, which is what they call playing.
    The Queen arrived last of all, and sat on her throne, which had been turned about so she couldsee the dais. Everybody knelt until she waved at us to sit down. Then the trumpets sounded and the players bounded onto the stage to bow and let the prologue begin. You might have thought there were a lot of them, but in fact there were just two middle-aged men, Richard Fitzgrey, three younger men, and three boys who played all the parts between them.
    The play was long and complicated, all about two families who hate each other. There's a huge massacre of one family by the other. Only one young man is left—wounded but alive. The princess of the enemy family finds him, takes him in, and nurses him without knowing who he is. Of course she falls in love with him, but then he realises that he's in the heart of his enemy's castle. So he disguises himself as a servant and puts poison in the wine. Only, by now, he's in love with the beauteous princess, and she's the one who goes to drink the poisoned wine! So the young man drinks it himself, and then declares his love in a very, very long speech, before dying tragically.
    I don't think somebody dying would be able to go on about his love for quite so long, but Richard did it well—you could hear every word and all the Maids were sniffling, even Lady Jane.
    Oh, except for Carmina, who was sitting next tome. She fell asleep with her head on my shoulder about three-quarters of the way through, when it was just getting really exciting. She wouldn't wake up even though I pinched her. I was scared she'd snore again and get us all sent out.
    The Queen didn't cry at the end, of course, but she did clap a lot. The players danced a Bergomask afterwards, which turned into a kind of riot because of the antics of one of the men as a clown. That made us all laugh again. The Master of the Revels then brought the chief of the company, the goodlooking middle-aged man I had seen earlier, and Richard Fitzgrey, to be presented to Her Majesty. I distinctly heard four sighs from Mary, Sarah, Jane, and Penelope, as Richard knelt before Her Majesty looking much more noble and heroic in his velvet doublet than most of the Court gentlemen.
    “Your Majesty, may I present Mr. Tom Alleyn and Richard Fitzgrey?” intoned the Master of the Revels.
    “Well done indeed,” said the Queen. “We are well pleased with your playing.” She nodded to the Master of the Revels, who gave Alleyn a leather purse that chinked. Immediately, all the players' expressions went from worried to happy. Then she looked quizzically at Richard Fitzgrey.
    “I think all the gentlemen of my Court are jealous of you, Mr. Fitzgrey, since you seem to have charmed every single one of my women,” she remarked.
    Richard smiled up at her and said, “Your Gracious Majesty is pleased to praise me, but I rather think that the gentlemen of your Court are jealous because you yourself have deigned to smile on me.”
    He couldn't have said a more perfect thing, as the Queen has a great weakness for flattery. All the gentlemen scowled, while even some of the grown-up and married Ladies-in-Waiting