Bethink thyself.

BUTLER (_no longer governing his emotion_).

Only break off from him? He dies! he dies!

OCTAVIO.

Come after me to Frauenburg, where now
All who are loyal are assembling under
Counts Altringer and Gallas. Many others
I've brought to a remembrance of their duty:
This night be sure that you escape from Pilsen.

BUTLER (_strides up and down in excessive agitation, then
steps up to_ OCTAVIO _with resolved countenance_).

Count Piccolomini! dare that man speak
Of honor to you, who once broke his troth.

OCTAVIO.

He, who repents so deeply of it, dares.

BUTLER.

Then leave me here upon my word of honor!

OCTAVIO.

What's your design?

BUTLER.

Leave me and my regiment.

OCTAVIO.

I have full confidence in you. But tell me
What are you brooding?

BUTLER.

That the deed will tell you.
Ask me no more at present. Trust to me.
Ye may trust safely. By the living God
Ye give him over, not to his good angel!
Farewell.

[_Exit_ BUTLER.]

SERVANT (_enters with a billet_).

A stranger left it, and is gone.
The Prince Duke's horses wait for you below.

[_Exit_ SERVANT.]

OCTAVIO (_reads_).

"Be sure make haste! Your faithful Isolan."
--O that I had but left this town behind me.
To split upon a rock so near the haven!--Away!
This is no longer a safe place
For me! Where can my son be tarrying!

SCENE VII

OCTAVIO and MAX PICCOLOWINI

[MAX _enters almost in a state of derangement, from extreme
agitation; his eyes roll wildly, his walk is_ _unsteady,
and he appears not to observe his father, who stands at a
distance, and gazes at him with a countenance expressive of
compassion. He paces with long strides through the chamber,
then stands still again, and at last throws himself into a
chair, staring vacantly at the object directly before him_.]

OCTAVIO (_advances to him_).

I am going off, my son.

[_Receiving no answer, he takes his hand_.]

My son, farewell.

MAX.

Farewell.

OCTAVIO.

Thou wilt soon follow me?

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:
H