is so dreadfully severe, solemn, and satirical. He found fault with
everything; he thought the theaters in Paris horribly dirty, _mal
soignes_, bad style, bad actors, orchestra second-rate, singers worse,
public ignorant, etc. He smiled once with such a conscious look and
scanned people's faces, as if to say, "I, Richard Wagner, have smiled!"
But he can very well put on airs, for he is a genius. At Les Italiens,
Patti, Mario, Alboni, and Delle Sedie are singing "Rigoletto." They are
all splendid. Alboni is immensely fat and round as a barrel--but what a
voice! It simply rolls out in billows of melody. The "quartette" was
magnificent, and was encored. Patti and Mario are at daggers drawn, and
hate each other like poison, so their love-making is reduced to a minimum,
and they make as little as possible. In their fondest embraces they hold
each other at arm's length and glare into each other's eyes. Mario is such
a splendid actor one would think he could conquer his dislike for her and
play the lover better. The _Barbier de Seville_ is, I think, his best
role; he acts with so much humor and sings so exquisitely and with such
refinement. Even in the tipsy scene he is the fine gentleman. Patti sings
in the singing lesson Venzano's waltz and "Il Bacio." Her execution is
wonderful, faultless, and brilliant.

We went to a _soiree_ given by the Marquise de Boissy, better known
as Byron's Countess Guiccioli, who inspired so many of his beautiful
poems; but when you see her dyed and painted you wonder how the _blase_
Byron could have been all fire and flame for her. Fagnani, the painter,
who did that awful simpering portrait of me, painted her, it being
stipulated that he should make her look ten years younger than she is. He
had a hard time of it! But now, being old and married to the senator,
Marquis de Boissy, she has lost all claim to celebrity, and is reduced to
giving forlorn _soirees_ with a meager buffet.