Than leave their rightful leader and their honor.

MAX.
Rely on this, I either leave my life
In the struggle, or conduct them out of Pilsen.

OCTAVIO.
Farewell, my son!

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.