n concert-giving,
for which her terms were eighty guineas per night. She would fly to
Calais and sing there, hurry back to England, thence hasten to Brussels,
where she would give a concert, and then cross the Channel again, giving
herself no rest. Night after night she would dance and sing at private
parties till dawn, and thus waste the precious candle of her life at
both ends. She was haunted by a fancy that, when she ceased to live
thus, she would suddenly die, for she was full of the superstition
of her Spanish race. Mme. Malibran about this time essayed the same
experiment which Pasta had tried, that of singing the role of the Moor
in "Otello." It was not very successful, though she sang the music and
acted the part with fire. The delicate figure of a woman was not fitted
for the strong and masculine personality of the Moorish warrior, and
the charm of her expression was completely veiled by the swarthy mask
of paint. Her versatility was so daring that she wished even to out-leap
the limits of nature.

The great _diva's_ horizon (since Sontag's retirement from the stage she
had been acknowledged the leading singer of the age) was now destined to
be clouded by a portentous event. M. Malibran arrived in Paris. He had
heard of his wife's brilliant success, and had come to assert his rights
over her. Maria declined to see him, and no persuasions of her friends
could induce her to grant the _soi-disant_ husband, for whose memory she
had nothing but rooted aversion, even an interview. Though she finally
arrived at a compromise with him (for his sole interest in resuming
relationship with his wife seemed to be the desire of sharing in the
emoluments of her profession), she determined not to sing again in the
French capital while M. Malibran remained there, and accordingly retired
to a chateau near Brussels. The whole musical world was interested in
settling this imbroglio, and there was a final settlement, by the terms
of which the singer was not to be troubled or interfered with by her
husband as long as he was paid a fixed stipend. She returned to Paris,
and reappeared at the Italiens as _Ninetta_, the great Rubini being in
the same cast. The two singers vied with each other "till," observed a
French critic, "it seemed as if talent, feeling, and enthusiasm could go
no further." This engagement, however, was cut short by her frequent and
alarming illnesses, and Mme. Malibran, though reckless and short-sighted
in regard