Zina. Oh, he is all the friend I have in the wide world.
Brightly. Who feeds your hungry maw and rags your lousy hide?
Zina. When my heart is almost breaking, and I beg for God to let me die, the kind words he speaks make me hope again so much—
Brightly. In love, hey? A nigger, a field hand, in love with a gentleman! At least, he passes himself off for one. Within twelve hours, I will take the pimp out of his proud strut.
Zina. Oh, I am such a miserable slave to love so good a master as he. He is too noble to do a wrong to any one.
Brightly. While he has dogged my footsteps when I leave the camp with you, and has twice incited you to escape?
Zina. Heaven is my witness, he did not do that.
Brightly. I will have an end of this! Today he volunteered to enter the enemy’s camp as a spy—ostensibly as a deserter. He will be betrayed!
Zina. Do with me as you will, and I will never complain; but he is innocent.
Brightly. When he attempts to return, he will be arrested by the enemy, with the proofs of his business on his person! A court-martial, an execution, and the end! (Zina in agony.)