when I ran off into telling of how I long for thee; so I will try again.  This Louis, to begin with, is but the veriest shadow of a man, of whom thou needst have not one jealous thought.  He is on a bed of sickness most of the time, of his own accord, and if, perchance, he be but fairly well a day or so, I do straightway make him ill again in one way or another, and, please God, hope to wear him out entirely ere long time.  Of a deed, brother Henry was right; better had it been for Louis to have married a human devil than me, for it maketh a very one out of me if mine eyes but rest upon him, and thou knowest full well what kind of a devil I make—­brother Henry knoweth, at any rate.  For all this do I grieve, but have no remedy, nor want one.  I sometimes do almost compassionate the old king, but I cannot forbear, for he turneth my very blood to biting gall, and must e’en take the consequences of his own folly.  Truly is he wild for love of me, this poor old man, and the more I hold him at a distance the more he fondly dotes.  I do verily believe he would try to stand upon his foolish old head, did I but insist.  I sometimes have a thought to make him try it.  He doeth enough that is senseless and absurd, in all conscience, as it is.  At all of this do the courtiers smile, and laugh, and put me forward to other pranks; that is, all but a few of the elders, who shake their heads, but dare do nothing else for fear of the dauphin, who will soon be king, and who stands first in urging and abetting me.  So it is easy for me to do what I wish, and above all to leave undone that which I wish not, for I do easily rule them all, as good Sir Edwin and dear Jane will testify.  I have a ball every night, wherein I do make a deal of amusement for every one by dancing La Volta with his majesty until his heels, and his poor old head, too, are like to fall off.  Others importune me for those dances, especially the dauphin, but I laugh and shake my head and say that I will dance with no one but the king, because he dances so well.  This pleases his majesty mightily, and maketh an opening for me to avoid the touch of other men, for I am jealous of myself for thy sake, and save and garner every little touch for thee....  Sir Edwin will tell you I dance with no one else and surely never will.  You remember well, I doubt not, when thou first didst teach me this new dance.  Ah! how delightful it was! and yet how at first it did frighten and anger me.  Thou canst not know how my heart beat during all the time of that first dance.  I thought, of a surety, it would burst; and then the wild thrill of frightened ecstasy that made my blood run like fire!  I knew it must be wrong, for it was, in truth, too sweet a thing to be right.  And then I grew angry at thee as the cause of my wrong-doing and scolded thee, and repented it, as usual.  Truly didst thou conquer, not win me.  Then afterwards, withal it so frightened me, how I longed to dance again, and could in no way stay myself