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]
[[679]] And that was for me only.

Max. May I know it?

Octavio (seizes the patent). Max! [A pause.
——In this disclosure place I in thy hands
The Empire's welfare and thy father's life.
Dear to thy inmost heart is Wallenstein:
A powerful tie of love, of veneration, [255]
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. O my son! 260
I trust thy heart undoubtingly. But am I
Equally sure of thy collectedness?
Wilt thou be able, with calm countenance,
To enter this man's presence, when that I
Have trusted to thee his whole fate?

Max. According 265
As thou dost trust me, father, with his crime.

[Octavio takes a paper out of his escrutoire, and gives it to him.

Max. What? how? a full Imperial patent!

Octavio. Read it.