ould communicate to her
soul that virginity which she was grieved at being unable to offer her
lover. It is impossible to help thinking that there was some virtue in
the ecclesiastical piscina, for the poor cadet was so smothered with
love that he fancied himself in Paradise, and left the negotiations of
the King of France, left his love for Mademoiselle de Montmorency--in
fact, left everything to marry Madame Imperia, in order that he might
live and die with her. Such was the effect of the learned ways of this
great lady of pleasure directly she turned her science to the root of
a virtuous love. Imperia bade adieu to her admirers at a royal feast,
given in honour of her wedding, which was a wonderful ceremony, at
which all the Italian princes were present. She had, it is said, a
million gold crowns; in spite of the vastness of this sum, every one
far from blaming L'Ile Adam, paid him many compliments, because it was
evident that neither Madame Imperia nor her young husband thought of
anything but one. The pope blessed their marriage, and said that it
was a fine thing to see the foolish virgin returning to God by the
road of marriage.

But during that last night in which it would be permissible for all to
behold the Queen of Beauty, who was about to become a simple
chatelaine of the kingdom of France, there were a great number of men
who mourned for the merry nights, the suppers, the masked balls, the
joyous games, and the melting hours, when each one emptied his heart
to her. Everyone regretted the ease and freedom which had always been
found in the residence of this lovely creature, who now appeared more
tempting than she had ever done in her life, for the fervid heat of
her great love made her glisten like a summer sun. Much did they
lament the fact that she had had the sad fantasy to become a
respectable woman. To these Madame de l'Ile Adam answered jestingly,
that after twenty-four years passed in the service of the public, she
had a right to retire. Others said to her, that however distant the
sun was, people could warm themselves in it, while she would show
herself no more. To these she replied that she would still have smiles
to bestow upon those lords who would come and see how she played the
role of a virtuous woman. To this the English envoy answered, he
believed her capable of pushing virtue to its extreme point. She gave
a present to each of her friends, and large sums to the poor and
suffering of Rome; be