spurred to outdo herself from consciousness of physical weakness. When
she returned to England again in the following September, her failing
health was painfully apparent to all. Yet her unconquerable energy
struggled against her sufferings, and she would permit herself
no relaxation. In vain her husband and her good friend Lablachc
remonstrated. A hectic, feverish excitement pervaded all her actions.
She was engaged to sing at the Manchester Musical Festival, and at the
rehearsals she would laugh and cry hysterically by turns.

At the first performance of the festival in the morning, she was carried
out of her dressing-room in a swoon, but the dying singer was bent on
doing what she considered her duty. She returned and delivered the air
of _Abraham_ by Cimarosa. Her thrilling tones and profound dejection
made a deep impression on the audience. The next day she rallied from
her sick-bed and insisted on being carried to the festival building,
where she was to sing a duet with Mme. Caradori-Allen. This was the
dying song of the swan, and it is recorded that her last effort was one
of the finest of her life. The assembly, entranced by the genius and
skill of the singer, forgot her precarious condition and demanded a
repetition. Malibran again sang with all the passionate fire of her
nature, and her wonderful voice died away in a prolonged shake on her
very topmost note. It was her last note on earth, for she was carried
thence to her deathbed.

Her sufferings were terrible. Convulsions and fainting-fits followed
each other in swift succession, and it was evident that her end was
near. The news of her fatal illness excited the deepest sympathy and
sorrow throughout England and France, and bulletins of her condition
were issued every day. Pending the arrival of her own physician, Dr.
Belluomini, from London, she had been bled while in a fainting-fit by