horse-laugh, throw herself on a sofa, and, fancying herself Semiramis on
the throne of Nineveh, burst forth in a great style with 'Son Regina,
e son amata!'" ("I am a queen, and I am beloved!") "One day," says
Fouché, "Bonaparte observed that, considering my acknowledged ability,
he was astonished I did not perform my functions better--that there
were several things of which I was ignorant. 'Yes,' replied I, 'there
certainly are things of which I was ignorant, but which I now know
well enough. For instance, a little man, muffled in a gray cloak, and
accompanied by a single servant, often steals out on a dark evening from
a secret door of the Tuileries, enters a closed carriage, and drives off
to Signora G------. This little man is yourself, and yet this fanciful
songstress jilts you continually for Rode the fiddler.' The Consul
answered not a word; he turned his back, rang, and immediately
withdrew."

In 1804 Grassini was engaged to sing in London alternately with Mrs.
Billington. At her first benefit she sang in conjunction with the
English _diva_ in Winter's new opera, "Il Ratto di Proserpina,"
Billington as _Ceres_, and Grassini as _Proserpina_. The respective
voices of the two singers were admirably fitted for the music of the
_rôles_, each exquisite of its sort and inspired by the ambition of
rivalry. The deep tones of the one combined with the bird-like notes of
the other to produce a most thrilling effect. Lord Mount Edgcumbe, who
had a prejudice for _bravura_ singing, said: "No doubt the deaf would
have been charmed with Grassini, but the blind must have been delighted
with Mrs. Billington": a malicious comment on the Italian singer, which
this distinguished amateur, when in a less cynical mood, revoked by
cordial admiration of Grassini's remarkable gifts both as vocalist and
actress. Many interesting anecdotes are told of this singer while in
London, one of which, related by Kelly, then stage-manager, illustrates