Italy had continued its reputation as the home of music, and now, as in the eighteenth century, Italian singers, men and women, were wearing the laurel in all the capitals of Europe. Among the women who were thus celebrated the best known were Grassini, Catalani, Pasta, and Alboni. Grassini was the daughter of a Lombardy farmer, and the expenses of her musical education had been defrayed by General Belgioso, who was much impressed with her wonderful voice and her charm of manner. Her debut at La Scala was a wonderful success in spite of the fact that she then sang in company with the two greatest Italian singers of the time, Crescentini--one of the last of the male sopranos--and Marchesi. Later, she attracted the attention of Bonaparte, and soon accompanied him to Paris, anxious, it has been said, to play the role of Cleopatra to this modern Caesar. Josephine's jealousy was aroused more than once by this song bird of Italy, but she continued in the emperor's good graces for a number of years, in spite of the fact that she was ever ready to follow the whim of the moment and distributed her favors quite promiscuously. In 1804 she was made directress of the Paris Opera, and some years after, returning from a most wonderful London engagement, she sang in _Romeo and Juliet_ with such effect that the usually impassive Napoleon sprang to his feet, shouting like a schoolboy; the next day, as a testimonial of his appreciation, he sent her a check for twenty thousand francs. Angelica Catalani first created a stir in the world at the age of twelve, when, as a novice in the convent of Santa Lucia at Gubbio, in the duchy of Urbino, she sang for the daily service in the little chapel with such amazing sweetness that people came from all the neighborhood to listen to her. After some preliminary training, which was undertaken without the entire approval of the girl's father, Angelica was confided to the care of the great teacher Marchesi, who soon put her in the front rank of singers. Her success upon the stage was unquestioned, and her voice was one of the most remarkable in all the history of music, being a pure soprano, with a compass of nearly three octaves,--from G to F,--and so clear and powerful that it rose fresh, penetrating, and triumphant above the music of any band or orchestra which might be playing her accompaniment. Bell-like in quality and ever true, this voice lacked feeling, and while it never failed to awaken unbounded enthusiasm, it rarely, if ever, brought a thrill of deeper emotion.