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OCTAVIO (goes up to him and embraces him).

Follow it,

Oh, follow it still further, my best son!

To-night, dear boy! it hath more faithfully

Guided thee than the example of thy father.

MAX.

Declare thyself less darkly.

OCTAVIO.

I will do so;

For after what has taken place this night,

There must remain no secrets 'twixt us two.

[Both seat themselves.

Max. Piccolomini! what thinkest thou of

The oath that was sent round for signatures?

MAX.

I hold it for a thing of harmless import,

Although I love not these set declarations.

OCTAVIO.

And on no other ground hast thou refused

The signature they fain had wrested from thee?

MAX.

It was a serious business. I was absent-

The affair itself seemed not so urgent to me.

OCTAVIO.

Be open, Max. Thou hadst then no suspicion?

MAX.

Suspicion! what suspicion? Not the least.

OCTAVIO.

Thank thy good angel, Piccolomini;

He drew thee back unconscious from the abyss.

MAX.

I know not what thou meanest.

OCTAVIO.

I will tell thee.

Fain would they have extorted from thee, son,

The sanction of thy name to villany;

Yes, with a single flourish of thy pen,

Made thee renounce thy duty and thy honor!

MAX. (rises).

Octavio!

OCTAVIO.

Patience! Seat Yourself. Much yet

Hast thou to hear from me, friend! Hast for years

Lived in incomprehensible illusion.

Before thine eyes is treason drawing out

As black a web as e'er was spun for venom:

A power of hell o'erclouds thy understanding.

I dare no longer stand in silence-dare

No longer see thee wandering on in darkness,

Nor pluck the bandage from thine eyes.

MAX.

My father!

Yet, ere thou speakest, a moment's pause of thought!

If your disclosures should appear to be

Conjectures only-and almost I fear

They will be nothing further-spare them! I

Am not in that collected mood at present,

That I could listen to them quietly.

OCTAVIO.

The deeper cause thou hast to hate this light,

The more impatient cause have I, my son,

To force it on thee. To the innocence

And wisdom of thy heart I could have trusted thee

With calm assurance-but I see the net

Preparing-and it is thy heart itself

Alarms me, for thine innocence-that secret,

[Fixing his eyes steadfastly on his son's face.

Which thou concealest, forces mine from me.

[MAX. attempts to answer, but hesitates, and casts his eyes

to the ground embarrassed.

OCTAVIO (after a pause).

Know, then, they are duping thee!-a most foul game

With thee and with us all-nay, hear me calmly-

The duke even now is playing. He assumes

The mask, as if he would forsake the army;

And in this moment makes he preparations

That army from the emperor to steal,

And carry it over to the enemy!

MAX.

That low priest's legend I know well, but did not

Expect to hear it from thy mouth.

OCTAVIO.

That mouth,

From which thou hearest it at this present moment,

Doth warrant thee that it is no priest's legend.

MAX.

How mere a maniac they supposed the duke;

What, he can meditate?-the duke?-can dream

That he can lure away full thirty thousand

Tried troops and true, all honorable soldiers,

More than a thousand noblemen among them,

From oaths, from duty, from their honor lure them,

And make them all unanimous to do

A deed that brands them scoundrels?

OCTAVIO.

Such a deed,

With such a front of infamy, the duke

No way desires-what he requires of us

Bears a far gentler appellation. Nothing

He wishes but to give the empire peace.

And so, because the emperor hates this peace,

Therefore the duke-the duke will force him to it.

All parts of the empire will he pacify,

And for his trouble will retain in payment

(What he has already in his gripe)-Bohemia!

MAX.

Has he, Octavio, merited of us,

That we-that we should think so vilely of him?

OCTAVIO.

What we would think is not the question here,

The affair speaks for itself-and clearest proofs!

Hear me, my son-'tis not unknown to thee,

In what ill credit with the court we stand.

But little dost thou know, or guess what tricks,

What base intrigues, what lying artifices,

Have been employed-for this sole end-to sow

Mutiny in the camp! All bands are loosed-

Loosed all the bands that link the officer

To his liege emperor, all that bind the soldier

Affectionately to the citizen.

Lawless he stands, and threateningly beleaguers

The state he's bound to guard. To such a height

'Tis swollen, that at this hour the emperor

Before his armies-his own armies-trembles;

Yea, in his capital, his palace, fears

The traitor's poniard, and is meditating

To hurry off and hide his tender offspring-

Not from the Swedes, not from the Lutherans-no,

From his own troops to hide and hurry them!

MAX.

Cease, cease! thou torturest, shatterest me. I know

That oft we tremble at an empty terror;

But the false phantasm brings a real misery.

OCTAVIO.

It is no phantasm. An intestine war,

Of all the most unnatural and cruel,

Will burst out into flames, if instantly

We do not fly and stifle it. The generals

Are many of them long ago won over;

The subalterns are vacillating; whole

Regiments and garrisons are vacillating.

To foreigners our strongholds are intrusted;

To that suspected Schafgotch is the whole

Force of Silesia given up: to Terzky

Five regiments, foot and horse; to Isolani,

To Illo, Kinsky, Butler, the best troops.

MAX.

Likewise to both of us.

OCTAVIO.

Because the duke

Believes he has secured us, means to lure us

Still further on by splendid promises.

To me he portions forth the princedoms, Glatz

And Sagan; and too plain I see the bait

With which he doubts not but to catch thee.

MAX.

No! no!

I tell thee, no!

OCTAVIO.

Oh, open yet thine eyes!

And to what purpose think'st thou he has called

Hither to Pilsen? to avail himself

Of our advice? Oh, when did Friedland ever

Need our advice? Be calm, and listen to me.

To sell ourselves are we called hither, and

Decline we that, to be his hostages.

Therefore doth noble Gallas stand aloof;

Thy father, too, thou wouldst not have seen here,

If higher duties had not held him fettered.

MAX.

He makes no secret of it-needs make none-

That we're called hither for his sake-he owns it.

He needs our aidance to maintain himself-

He did so much for us; and 'tis but fair