was in such a weak and exhausted state that she did not deem it prudent to sing.  Her manager was, however, unbending, and insisted on the exact fulfillment of her contract.  After vain remonstrances she yielded to her taskmaster, and appeared in “I Puritani,” trusting to the forbearance and kindness of her audience.  But a few notes had escaped her pale and quivering lips when the angry audience broke out into loud hisses, marks of disapprobation which were kept up during the performance.  Mme. Persiani could not forgive this, and, when she completely recovered her voice and energy a few weeks after, she treated the lavish demonstrations of the public with the most cutting disdain and indifference.  At the close of her engagement, she publicly announced her determination never again to sing in Florence, on account of the selfish cruelty to which she had been subjected both by the manager and the public.  Persiani’s fame grew rapidly in every part of Europe.  At Vienna, she was named chamber singer to the Austrian sovereign, and splendid gifts were lavished on her by the imperial family, and in the leading cities of Germany, as in St. Petersburg and Moscow, the highest recognition of her talents was shown alike by court and people.

It was not till 1837 that Mme. Persiani ventured to make her first appearance in Paris, a step which she took with much apprehension, for she had an exaggerated notion of the captious-ness and coldness of the French public.  When she stepped on the stage, November 7th, the night of her debut in “Sonnambula,” she was so violently shaken by her emotions that she could scarcely stand.  The other singers were Rubini, Tamburini, and Mlle. Allessandri, and the audience was of the utmost distinction, including the foremost people in the art, literary, and social circles of Paris.  The debutante was well received, but it was not until she appeared in Cimarosa’s “Il Matrimonio Segreto” that she was fully appreciated.  Rubini and Tamburini were with her in the cast, and the same great artists participated also with her in the performance of “Lucia,” which set the final seal of her artistic won h in the public estimate.  She also appeared in London in the following year in “Sonnambula.”  “It is no small risk to any vocalist to follow Malibran and Grisi in a part which they both played so well,” was the observation of one critic, “and it is no small compliment to Persiani to say that she succeeded in it.”  She had completely established herself as a favorite with the London public before the end of the season, and thereafter she continued to sing alternately in London and Paris for a succession of years, sharing the applause of audiences with such artists as Grisi, Viardot, Lablache, Tamburini, Rubini, and Mario.