Consuelo described her interview with the great Empress. The princess was anxious to hear of this wonderful woman, the virtue of whom no one at Berlin believed in, and who was said to have as lovers the Prince Von Kaunitz, Doctor Von Switzer and Metastasio.
Consuelo told at length of her reconciliation on account of Angela, with La Corilla, of her début in the principal parts at the Imperial Theatre, on account of the remorse and a generous impulse of her impetuous rival. She then told of the friendship that existed at Vienna between Trenck and herself at the abode of the Ambassador of Venice; and told how she had arranged a method of communicating with him, if the persecution of the King of Prussia made it necessary. She spoke of the piece of music, the sheets of which were to serve as a wrapper and signature to the letters he might send her, as occasion required, for her whom he loved: and told how she had recently been informed, by one of the sheets, of the importance of the cabalistic scroll she had given to the princess. It may be imagined these explanations occupied more time than the rest of the story.
Porporina having told of her departure with the maestro from Venice, and how, in the uniform of a company, and as the Baron Von Kreutz, she had met the King of Prussia at the wonderful Castle of Roswald, she was obliged also to mention the important service she had rendered the monarch before she knew him.
"That I was very curious to know," said the Baroness Von Kleist. "Poelnitz, who loves to talk, told me that his majesty at supper said that his friendship for the beautiful Porporina had more serious causes than a mere love affair."
"What I did was very simple. I used the ascendancy I had over an unfortunate fanatic to keep him from murdering the king. Karl, the poor Bohemian giant, whom Trenck had rescued from the recruiting party when he liberated me, had entered the service of Count Hoditz. He had known the king, and wished to be revenged for the death of his wife and child, who died of want and sorrow, just after his second arrest. Fortunately, he had not forgotten that I had been a party to his rescue, and had contributed something to his wife's assistance. He let me persuade and take the gun from him. The king, who was concealed hard by, as he afterwards told me, heard all, and, lest the assassin should have a return of fury, took a different road from the one he had intended. The king was on horseback, with no one but Bruddenbrock. It is, then, very possible that a good shot like Karl, whom I had thrice seen shoot a pigeon from the top of a mast, during the entertainment given by Count Hoditz, would not have missed."
"God knows," said the princess in a dreamy manner, "what changes this misfortune would have effected in European politics, and in individual destinies. Now, dear Rudolstadt, I think I know the rest of your story, until the death of Count Albert. At Prague you met his uncle, the baron, who took you to the Giant's Castle, to see him die of phthisis, and to marry him just before he breathed his last. You had not made up your mind to love him?"
"Alas! madame, I loved him too late, and have been cruelly punished for hesitation, and passion for the stage. Forced by my master, Porpora, to appear at Vienna, deceived in relation to Albert's indisposition, for his last letters had been intercepted, I suffered myself to be led astray by the glitter of the stage; and, in conclusion, while waiting for an engagement at Berlin, appeared with perfect madness at Vienna."
"And with glory" said the princess. "We know that."
"Miserable and fatal glory," said Consuelo. "One thing your highness does not know; it is that Albert came secretly to Vienna and saw me play. Following every step like a mysterious shadow, he heard me say, behind the scenes to Joseph Haydn, that I could not abandon my art without serious regret, yet I loved Albert. I swear before God, that within my heart, I knew that it was more impossible to renounce him than my profession, and wrote to him to say so. Porpora, who looked on this love as a chimera and madness, had intercepted and burned my letters. I found Albert in a rapid consumption; I gave him my hand, but could not restore him to life. I saw him lying in state, clad as a noble of yore, beautiful in the embrace of death, with his brow pure as that of the pardoning angel—but I could not follow him to the grave. I left him in the lighted chapel of the Giants' Castle, watched over by Zdenko, the poor mad prophet, who gave me his hand with a smile, and rejoiced at the tranquil slumber of his friend. He, at least, more pious and respectful than I, placed him in the tomb of his fathers, without being aware that he would never again leave that bed of repose. I was hurried away by Porpora, a devoted, yet stern friend, with a paternal yet inflexible heart, who shouted to me over the very tomb of my husband—'On Saturday next, you will make your début in Les Virtuoses Ridicules.'"
"Strange, indeed, are the vicissitudes of an artist's life," said the princess, wiping away a tear. Porporina, as she concluded her story, sobbed aloud. "You do not tell me, my dear Consuelo, the greatest honor of your life, and which, when Supperville mentioned, filled me with admiration. Not to distress the old canoness, and not to forfeit your romantic disinterestedness, you abandoned your title, your dower, and your name. You requested Supperville and Porpora, the only witnesses of your marriage, to keep it a secret, and came hither poor as before, and remained a Zingarella."