The coffins were broken open.

The ashes were scattered to the winds, [106] Treves, with its fair bridge, its Roman amphitheatre, its venerable churches, convents, and colleges, was doomed to the same fate.

But, before this last crime had been perpetrated, Lewis was recalled to a better mind by the execrations of all the neighbouring nations, by the silence and confusion of his flatterers, and by the expostulations of his wife.

He had been more than two years secretly married to Frances de Maintenon, the governess of his natural children.

It would be hard to name any woman who, with so little romance in her temper, has had so much in her life.