Sit down and drink.
Now you will chat with me!
WARDER.
[drinking, and speaking always in an undertone]
How do you feel?
Here’s to your health.
CARLOMAN.
Why, that is like a prayer—
Warmed by your voice. They who would shut men up,
And bar them from their fellows’ kindly voices,
God cripple every motion of their soul!
So I am here for ever.
Take that bread:
I like to see you eat. Now talk again.
WARDER.
But you will eat some too?
CARLOMAN.
No, my good jailer,
You shall not forge that chain. You know I’m dying;
Bring me my food and eat it here and talk,
Then you will stay a little longer. Tell me,
How is it with the sky to-day, the winds
And the flowers crying after them? O God!