It cannot be.
Ascanio
What, is it so with you?
I thought the friendship of the antique world
Was not yet dead, but that the Roman type
Might even in this poor and common age
Find counterparts of love; then by this love
Which beats between us like a summer sea,
Whatever lot has fallen to your hand
May I not share it?
Guido
Share it?
Ascanio
Ay!
Guido
No, no.
Ascanio