I did not thrust myself into his secrecy.
MAX.
Uprightness merited his confidence.
OCTAVIO.
He was no longer worthy of sincerity.
MAX.
Dissimulation, sure, was still less worthy
Of thee, Octavio!
OCTAVIO.
Gave I him a cause
To entertain a scruple of my honor?
MAX.
That he did not evince his confidence.
OCTAVIO.
Dear son, it is not always possible
Still to preserve that infant purity
Which the voice teaches in our inmost heart,
Still in alarm, forever on the watch
Against the wiles of wicked men: e'en virtue
Will sometimes bear away her outward robes
Soiled in the wrestle with iniquity.
This is the curse of every evil deed
That, propagating still, it brings forth evil.
I do not cheat my better soul with sophisms;
I but perform my orders; the emperor
Prescribes my conduct to me. Dearest boy,
Far better were it, doubtless, if we all
Obeyed the heart at all times; but so doing,
In this our present sojourn with bad men,
We must abandon many an honest object.
'Tis now our call to serve the emperor;
By what means he can best be served-the heart
May whisper what it will-this is our call!
MAX.
It seems a thing appointed, that to-day
I should not comprehend, not understand thee.
The duke, thou sayest, did honestly pour out
His heart to thee, but for an evil purpose:
And thou dishonestly hast cheated him
For a good purpose! Silence, I entreat thee-
My friend, thou stealest not from me-
Let me not lose my father!
OCTAVIO (suppressing resentment).
As yet thou knowest not all, my son. I have
Yet somewhat to disclose to thee.
[After a pause.
Duke Friedland
Hath made his preparations. He relies
Upon the stars. He deems us unprovided,
And thinks to fall upon us by surprise.
Yea, in his dream of hope, he grasps already
The golden circle in his hand. He errs,
We, too, have been in action-he but grasps
His evil fate, most evil, most mysterious!
MAX.
Oh, nothing rash, my sire! By all that's good,
Let me invoke thee-no precipitation!
OCTAVIO.
With light tread stole he on his evil way,
And light of tread hath vengeance stole on after him.
Unseen she stands already, dark behind him
But one step more-he shudders in her grasp!
Thou hast seen Questenberg with me. As yet
Thou knowest but his ostensible commission:
He brought with him a private one, my son!
And that was for me only.
MAX.
May I know it?
OCTAVIO (seizes the patent).
Max!
In this disclosure place I in thy hands
[A pause.
The empire's welfare and thy father's life.
Dear to thy inmost heart is Wallenstein
A powerful tie of love, of veneration,
Hath knit thee to him from thy earliest youth.
Thou nourishest the wish,-O let me still
Anticipate thy loitering confidence!
The hope thou nourishest to knit thyself
Yet closer to him--
MAX.
Father--
OCTAVIO.
Oh, my son!
I trust thy heart undoubtingly. But am I
