Old newspapers tell us that Porporina sang with great success in Pergolese's operas at Paris, in the oratorios and operas of Handel at London, with Farinelli at Madrid, with La Faustina at Dresden, and with Mergotti at Venice. At Rome and Naples she sang the church music of Porpora and other great masters, with triumphant applause.
Every item of Albert's career is lost. A few notes to Trenck or Wanda prove this mysterious personage to have been full of faith, confidence, and activity, and enjoying in the highest degree lucidity of mind. At a certain epoch all documentary information fails. We have heard the following story told, in a coterie of persons almost all of whom are now dead, relative to Consuelo's last appearance on the stage.
"It was about 1760, at Vienna. The actress was then about thirty years old, and it was said was handsomer than she had been in her youth. A pure life, moral and calm habits, and physical prudence, had preserved all the grace of her beauty and talent. Handsome children accompanied her, but no one knew their father, though common report said that she had a husband, and was irrevocably faithful to him. Porpora having gone several times to Italy, was with her, and was producing a new opera at the Imperial Theatre. The last twenty years of the maestro's works are so completely unknown, that we have in vain sought to discover the name of his last productions. We only know Porporina had the principal part, that she was most successful, and wrung tears from the whole court. The empress was satisfied. On the night after this triumph, Porporina received from an invisible messenger news that filled her with terror and consternation. At seven in the morning—that is to say, just at the hour when the empress was awakened by the faithful valet known as the sweeper[19] of her majesty, (for his duty consisted in opening the blinds, making the fire, and cleaning the room, while the empress was awaking,) Porporina, by eloquence or gold, passed through every avenue of the palace, and reached the door of the royal bed-chamber."
"'My friend,' said she to the servant, 'I must throw myself at the empress's feet. The life of an honest man is in danger. A great crime will be committed in a few days, if I do not see her majesty at once. I know that you cannot be bribed, but also know you to be generous and magnanimous. Everybody says so. You have obtained favors which the greatest courtiers dared not ask.'
"'Kind heaven! my dear mistress! I will do anything for you,' said the servant, clasping his hands and letting his duster fall.
"'Karl!' said Consuelo. 'Thank God I am saved! Albert has a protecting angel in the palace!'
"'Albert! Albert!' said Karl. 'Is he in danger? Go In, madame, if I should lose my place. God knows I shall be sorry; for I am enabled to do some good and serve our holy cause better than I could do anywhere else. Listen! The empress is a good soul, when she is not a queen. Go in: you will be thought to have preceded me. Let those scoundrels bear the burden of it, for they do not deserve to serve a queen. They speak lies."
"Consuelo went in; and when the empress opened her eyes, she saw her kneeling at the foot of the bed.
"'Who is that?' said Maria Theresa, as, gathering the counterpane over her shoulders, she rose up as proud and as haughty in her night-dress, and on her bed, as if she sat on her throne, decked with the Imperial crown on her brow, and the sword by her side.
"'Madame,' said Consuelo, 'I am your humble subject, an unfortunate mother, a despairing wife, who begs on her knees her husband's life and liberty.'