was at first shocked at the transaction; but the public grows familiar
with everything by habit, and by degrees both decency, and even virtue
itself, are rendered tame, and overcome. The queen was at the head of
those who exclaimed against so public and scandalous a crime, and against
the impunity of such a wicked act. As the Duchess of Buckingham was a
short fat body, like her majesty, who never had had any children, and
whom her husband had abandoned for another; this sort of parallel in
their situations interested the queen in her favour; but it was all in
vain: no person paid any attention to them; the licentiousness of the age
went on uncontrolled, though the queen endeavoured to raise up the
serious part of the nation, the politicians and devotees, as enemies
against it.

The fate of this princess was in many cases truly melancholy: The king,
indeed, paid her every outward attention; but that was all: She easily
perceived that the respect he entertained for her daily diminished, in
proportion as the credit of her rivals increased: She saw that the king
her husband was now totally indifferent about legitimate children, since
his all-charming mistresses bore him others. As all the happiness of her
life depended upon that blessing, and as she flattered herself that the
king would prove kinder to her if Heaven would vouchsafe to grant her
desires, she had recourse to all the celebrated secrets against
sterility: pious vows, nine days' prayers, and offerings having been
tried in all manners, but all to no purpose, she was at last obliged
to return to natural means.

What would she have given on this occasion for the ring which Archbishop
Turpin wore on his finger, and which made Charlemagne run after him, in
the same manner as it had made him run after one of his concubines, from
whose finger Turpin had taken it after her death! But it is now many