The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Iii Part 30

MAX.

I follow thee?

Thy way is crooked--it is not my way.

[OCTAVIO _drops his hand, and starts back_.]

O, hadst thou been but simple and sincere, Ne'er had it come to this--all had stood otherwise.

He had not done that foul and horrible deed, The virtuous had retain'd their influence o'er him: He had not fallen into the snares of villains.

Wherefore so like a thief, and thief's accomplice Didst creep behind him, lurking for thy prey!

O, unblest falsehood! Mother of all evil!

Thou misery-making demon, it is thou That sink'st us in perdition. Simple truth, Sustainer of the world, have saved us all!

Father, I will not, I cannot excuse thee!

Wallenstein has deceived me--O, most foully!

But thou hast acted not much better.

OCTAVIO.

Son!

My son, ah! I forgive thy agony!

MAX. (_rises and contemplates his father with looks of suspicion_).

Was't possible? hadst thou the heart, my father, Hadst thou the heart to drive it to such lengths, With cold premeditated purpose? Thou-- Hadst thou the heart to wish to see him guilty Rather than saved? Thou risest by his fall.

Octavio, 'twill not please me.

OCTAVIO.

G.o.d in heaven!

MAX.

O, woe is me! sure I have changed my nature.

How comes suspicion here--in the free soul?

Hope, confidence, belief, are gone; for all Lied to me, all that I e'er loved or honored.

No, no! not all! She--she yet lives for me, And she is true, and open as the heavens!

Deceit is everywhere, hypocrisy, Murder, and poisoning, treason, perjury: The single holy spot is our love, The only unprofaned in human nature.

OCTAVIO.

Max!--we will go together. 'Twill be better.

MAX.

What? ere I've taken a last parting leave, The very last--no, never!

OCTAVIO.

Spare thyself The pang of necessary separation.

Come with me! Come, my son!

[_Attempts to take him with him._]

MAX.

No! as sure as G.o.d lives, no!

OCTAVIO (_more urgently_).

Come with me, I command thee! I, thy father.

MAX.

Command me what is human. I stay here.

OCTAVIO.

Max! in the Emperor's name I bid thee come.

MAX.

No Emperor has power to prescribe Laws to the heart; and wouldst thou wish to rob me Of the sole blessing which my fate has left me, Her sympathy? Must then a cruel deed Be done with cruelty? The unalterable Shall I perform ign.o.bly--steal away, With stealthy coward flight forsake her? No!

She shall behold my suffering, my sore anguish, Hear the complaints of the disparted soul, And weep tears o'er me. Oh! the human race Have steely souls--but she is as an angel.

From the black deadly madness of despair Will she redeem my soul, and in soft words Of comfort, plaining, loose this pang of death!

OCTAVIO.

Thou wilt not tear thyself away; thou canst not.

O, come, my son! I bid thee save thy virtue.

MAX.

Squander not thou thy words in vain.

The heart I follow, for I dare trust to it.

OCTAVIO (_trembling, and losing all self command_).

Max! Max! if that most d.a.m.ned thing could be, If thou--my son--my own blood--dare I _think_ it?

Do sell thyself to him, the infamous, Do stamp this brand upon our n.o.ble house, Then shall the world behold the horrible deed And in unnatural combat shall the steel Of the son trickle with the father's blood.

MAX.

O hadst thou always better thought of men Thou hadst then acted better. Curst suspicion, Unholy, miserable doubt! To him Nothing on earth remains unwrench'd and firm, Who has no faith.

OCTAVIO.

And if I trust thy heart, Will it be always in thy power to follow it?

MAX.