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 God lives, no! [40]

Octavio. 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 would'st thou wish to rob me 45
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 ignobly—steal away,
With stealthy coward flight forsake her? No! 50
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 55
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. [60]
The heart I follow, for I dare trust to it.

Octavio. Max! Max! if that most damnéd thing could be,
If thou—my son—my own blood—(dare I think it?)
[[723]] Do sell thyself to him, the infamous,
Do stamp this brand upon our noble house, 65
Then shall the world behold the horrible deed,
And in unnatural combat shall the steel
Of the son trickle with the father's blood.