_Octavio._ I did not thrust myself into his secrecy. _Max._ Uprightness merited his confidence. 200 _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 honour? _Max._ That he did not, evinced his confidence. 205 _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, for ever on the watch Against the wiles of wicked men, e'en Virtue 210 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: 215 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, 220 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 225 I should not comprehend, not understand thee. The Duke thou say'st 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-- 230 My friend thou stealest not from me-- Let me not lose my father! _Octavio._ As yet thou know'st not all, my son. I have Yet somewhat to disclose to thee. [_After a pause._ Duke Friedland Hath made his preparations. He relies 235 Upon his 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 240 His evil fate, most evil, most mysterious! _Max._ O 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, With light tread hath Vengeance stole on after him. 245 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 know'st but his ostensible commission; He brought with him a private one, my son! 250 And that was for me only. _Max._ May I know it?