[drawing Marcomir to the front] Marcomir,
Come from this graveyard.
MARCOMIR.
No, I must not come,
I dare not; she is yours.
CARLOMAN.
Is mine? You wrong her—
Not yours nor mine. Earth’s wisdom will begin
When all relationships are put away,
With their dull pack of duties, and we look
Curious, benignant, with a great compassion
Into each other’s lives.
MARCOMIR.
It is not so
I look; I have a lust to gratify,
A lust for very shame I loathe to mix
With Geneviva’s image.
CARLOMAN.
Faugh! because
You think that I possess her! Cursèd bonds,
Cursed law that makes this riot in the heart!
Come forth; all will be gentle out of doors.
Gird up your habit.