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44 night after they had retired and the father slept, the boy stealthily arose and by the bright light of the Italian moon, wrote out the whole of that sacredly guarded "Miserere." The Pope's locks, bars, and excommunications gave no safety against a memory like Mozart's.  

No more excellent or generous lady has ever graced the operatic stage than Madame Malibran. Pure in life, beautiful in character, generous in heart, she made friends of all who knew her.

When she arrived in Venice on one of her continental tours, Malibran found the manager of a theater which had just been built, to be on the verge of bankruptcy. The great expense of completing his building had brought him to this point, but he had hoped to have the edifice graced by the presence of the King on the opening night, and that would secure him a large attendance and an overflowing treasury. But, unfortunately, the King died. The manager was in despair.

Hearing of Malibran's arrival he besought her to sing on the opening night and save him from ruin. She consented; but owing to his financial difficulties she declined the sum which he offered for her services.

The manager was not mistaken in the drawing power of the artiste; when it became known that Malibran was to sing in "Somnambula," every seat was taken.

In the course of the opera, Malibran slipped on a leaf from a bouquet that had been thrown her and but for one of the singers would have fallen into the orchestra. That singer was Balfe, who afterward became famous as a composer. As it happened, in the effort to recover her balance, one of Malibran's slippers came off and dropped from the stage into what was then called the "pit." The occupants of that part of the house at once entered on a struggle for the possession of this prized relic. Malibran was much amused at their efforts and, taking off