Page:Wallenstein, a drama in 2 parts - Schiller (tr. Coleridge) (1800).djvu/155

But my abhorrence, the full sentiment
Of my whole heart—that I have still kept sacred
To my own consciousness.

MAX.

⁠And thou hast been

So treacherous? That looks not like my father!
I trusted not thy words, when thou didst tell me
Evil of him; much less can I now do it,
That thou calumniatest thy own self.

OCTAVIO.

I did not thrust myself into his secrecy.

MAX.

Uprightness merited his confidence.

OCTAVIO.

He was no longer worthy of sincerity.

MAX.

Dissimulation, sure, was still less worthy

Of thee, Octavio!

OCTAVIO.

⁠Gave I him a cause

To entertain a scruple of my honour?

MAX.

That he did not, evinc'd his confidence.

OCTAVIO.

Dear son, it is not always possible

Still to preserve that infant purity
Which the voice teaches in our inmost heart.
Still in alarm, forever on the watch
Against the wiles of wicked men, e'en Virtue
Will sometimes bear away her outward robes
Soil'd in the wrestle with iniquity.