ng at Leghorn with Crivelli, Marchesi, and
Mrs. Billington, and thence she made a triumphal tour through Italy.
From the first she had met with an unequaled success. Her full,
powerful, clear tones, her delivery so pure and true, her instinctive
execution of the most difficult music, carried all before her. Without
much art or method, that superb voice, capable by nature of all the
things which the most of even gifted singers are obliged to learn by
hard work and long experience, was sufficient for the most daring feats.
The Prince Regent of Portugal, attracted by her fame, engaged her, with
Crescentini and Mme. Gafforini, for the Italian opera at Lisbon, where
she arrived in the year 1804.

The romance of Catalani's life connects itself, not with those escapades
which furnish the most piquant tidbits for the gossip-monger, but with
her marriage, which occurred at Lisbon. Throughout her long career no
breath of scandal touched the character of this extraordinary artist.
Her private and domestic life was as exemplary as her public career was
dazzling. One night, as Angelica was singing on the stage, her eyes
met those of a handsome man in full French uniform, and especially
distinguished by the diamond aigrette in his cap, who sat in full sight
in one of the boxes. When she went off the stage she found the military
stranger in the greenroom, waiting for an introduction. This was M. de
Vallebregue, captain in the Eighth Hussars and _attache_ of the
French embassy, who in after years received his highest recognition of
distinction as the husband of the chief of living singers. They were
both in the full flush of youth and beauty, and they fell passionately
in love with each other at first sight. When the lover asked Signor
Catalani's consent, the latter frowned on the scheme, for the golden
harvest was too rich to be yielded up lightly for the asking. He coldly
refused, and bade the suitor think of his love as hopeless, though
he found no objection to M. Vallebregue personally. Poor Angelica
was thoroughly wretched, and day after day pined for her young
soldier-lover, who had been forbidden the house by the father. For
several days she was in such dejection that she could not sing, and
the romance became the talk of Lisbon. One day an anonymous letter
was received by Papa Catalani charging M. Vallebregue with being a
proscribed man, who had committed some mysterious crime vaguely hinted
at. Armed with this, her father soug