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.

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.

I did not thrust myself into his secrecy.

Uprightness merited his confidence.

He was no longer worthy of sincerity.

Dissimulation, sure, was still less worthy Of thee, Octavio!

Gave I him a cause To entertain a scruple of my honour?

That he did not, evinc'd his confidence.

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. Rh