after his first arrival in Paris, he found
himself deeply in debt, and so poor that he was obliged to sleep in a
very cheap lodging-house where several people occupied one room. One
night he awoke and found a man kneeling over him, to rob him. "What do
you want?" asked Mario. "Your money," was the reply. "Take all you can
find, my friend," answered Mario, "but please let me continue my dreams
and my sleep."

Mario was as careless in regard to time as to money. It is related that
once upon a time he arrived half an hour early, to keep an appointment.
Nobody was more surprised than Mario himself, and, after investigation,
he discovered that he had mistaken eleven o'clock for five minutes to
twelve, and would have been the customary half hour late if his
calculations had been correct.

Mario had a particular aversion to writing letters, and when he received
an invitation from some person of high degree he would frequently say,
"Oh, I will write to-morrow," and Mario's to-morrow was the proverbial
one which never came. He was nevertheless kind and thoughtful for every
one, and to his personal graces and charms he owes his reputation as
much as to his art, for he was always more or less of an amateur. His
wonderful gifts were not developed by study, like the equally wonderful
voice of Rubini, who surpassed in this respect every tenor before or
after.

As an instance of the admiration in which Mario was held by the fair
sex, we are told that a certain lady followed him wherever he sang. She
never spoke to him, never tried to press herself upon him, but never
missed a performance in any part of the world in which he sang, except
on three occasions when she was prevented by sickness. This continued
for a period of forty years.

Like all men of similar disposition, Mario was subject to fits of wild,
unreasoning jealousy, and his domestic life with Grisi was not always of
the smoothest nature, though there was absolutely no cause for jealousy
on either side. On one occasion, Mario is said to have worked himself up
into such a state of excitement that he smashed everything in the room.
Grisi, too, once reached so great a depth of despair that she rushed out
to drown herself. A fleet-footed friend followed her, and reached her
just as she was preparing to make the final plunge. All kinds of
arguments were used to turn her from her purpose, but in vain, until her
rescuer pictured to her how dirty and muddy she would look when t