, I was unable to obtain it; and now, how strange
an alteration! You condescend to notice me now when I am not worth
the trouble, and am no longer worthy of you." Las Cases has not proved
himself the most veracious of chroniclers in more important matters, and
we may be permitted to doubt the truth of this speech as coming from the
mouth of a woman extraordinarily beautiful and not less vain. But at all
events Grassini accompanied the French general to Paris, ambitious to
play the _role_ of Cleopatra to this modern Caesar. Josephine's
jealousy and dislike proved an obstacle difficult to meet, and this, in
connection with the fact that the French opera did not prove suited to
her style, made her first residence in Paris a short one, in spite of
the brilliant success of her concerts. One of these was the crowning
feature of the grand _fete_ given at the Invalides Church in honor of
the battle of Marengo; and as Grassini sang before the bronzed veterans
of the Italian campaign she seemed inspired. Circumstances, however,
obliged her to leave France, laden with magnificent presents from
Napoleon.

In November, 1801, the Italian prima donna was in Berlin, where she
announced concerts which seem never to have taken place. In 1802 she
returned to France, and Napoleon made her directress of the Opera in
1804. At first Josephine had permitted her to appear at her private
concerts at the Tuileries, but she did not detest the beautiful singer
less cordially than heretofore. It was whispered that the cantatrice
did in reality seek to attract the attention of Napoleon, and that she
turned her eyes fixedly toward the throne of the Dictator.

"I hear, madame, that our Grassini is a favorite with the great
Napoleon," said Count Sommaglia to Josephine one morning. "Yes,"
answered the irate wife of the First Consul, hardly-able to disguise her
spite, "the ridiculous vanity of the creature amuses us amazingly.
Since she has been made directress of the Italian Opera, there is more
intriguing going on among these gentry than there is with the diplomats:
in the midst of a serious conversation, she will break out into a
horse-laugh, throw herself on a sofa, and, fancying herself Semiramis on
the throne of Nineveh, burst forth in a great style with 'Son Regina,
e son amata!'" ("I am a queen, and I am beloved!") "One day," says
Fouche, "Bonaparte observed that, considering my acknowledged ability,
he was astonished I did not perform my functio