MAX.
Farewell!
OCTAVIO.
How! not one look
Of filial love? No grasp of the hand at parting?
It is a bloody war to which we are going,
And the event uncertain and in darkness.
So used we not to part—it was not so!
Is it then true? I have a son no longer?
[MAX falls into his arms, they hold each other for a long time in a speechless embrace, then go away at different sides.]
[The Curtain drops.]
* * * * *
ACT III
SCENE I
A Chamber in the House of the Duchess of Friedland