CARLOMAN.
But the world
Is for the young, my Astolph.
ASTOLPH.
Carloman,
I love you. Why, I feel a lad, eighteen,
When looking on you. Come, we two must kiss;
We may not burn together, flame in flame,
Again—so we must kiss.
CARLOMAN.
My blessed one,
Would I could cleave to you! You give me freedom,
A gift so rarely thought of.
ASTOLPH.
[calling a monk] Fetch the Prior,
The brethren, now—this instant. We must start.
CARLOMAN.
Grant me beside the freedom for myself
Salvation for another.