How it can be done, it is not clear to me yet; but I will do it--that is enough.

Halloo, forward to the queen!" With precipitant haste he ran through the halls and corridors, while with a smile he muttered away to himself: "Thank God, I enjoy the honor of being the fool; for only the king and the fool have the privilege of being able to enter unannounced every room, even the queen's." Catharine was alone in her boudoir, when the small door, through which the king was accustomed to resort to her, was softly opened.
"Oh, the king is coming!" said she, walking to the door to greet her husband.
"Yes, the king is coming, for the fool is already here," said John Heywood, who entered through the private door.

"Are we alone, queen?
Does nobody overhear us ?" "No, John Heywood, we are all alone.

What do you bring me ?" "A letter, queen." "From whom ?" asked she, and a glowing crimson flitted over her cheek.
"From whom ?" repeated John Heywood, with a waggish smile.

"I do not know, queen; but at any rate it is a begging letter; and without doubt you would do well not to read it at all; for I bet you, the shameless writer of this letter demands of you some impossibility--it may be a smile, or a pressure of the hand, a lock of your hair, or perchance even a kiss.