Aleko: "Alas! I believe in nothing Neither in dreams, nor in sweet assurances, nor in thy heart."
The Old Gypsy: "Young madman. Why dost thou sigh so often? We here are free. The sky is clean, the women famous for their beauty. Weep not. Grief will destroy thee."
Aleko: "Father! she loves me no more."
The Old Gypsy: "Be comforted, friend. She is but a child. Thy sadness is unreasonable. Thou lovest anxiously and earnestly, but a woman's heart loves playfully. Behold, through the distant vault the full moon wanders free, throwing her light equally over all the world. First she peeps into one cloud, lights it brilliantly, and then glides to another, making to each a rapid visit. Who shall point out to her one spot in the heavens and say, 'There shalt thou stay'? Who to the young girl's heart shall say, 'Love only once and change not'? Be pacified."
Aleko: "How she loved me! How tenderly she leant upon me in the silent desert when we were together in the hours of night! Full of child-like gaiety, how often, with her pleasant prattle or intoxicating caress, has she in an instant chased away my gloom! And now, Zemphira is false! My Zemphira is cold!"
The Old Gypsy: "Listen, and I will tell thee a story about myself. Long, long ago, before the Danube was threatened by the Muscovite (thou seest, Aleko, I speak of an ancient sorrow), at a time when we feared the Sultan who, through Boodjak Pasha, ruled the country from the lofty towers of Ackerman. I was young then, and my bosom throbbed with the passion of youth. My curly locks were not streaked with white. Among the young beauties there was one.... To whom I turned as to the sun, till at last I called her mine. Alas! like a falling star, my youth swiftly sped. Still briefer was our love. Marioula loved me but one year."
"One day, by the waters of Kagula, we encountered a strange band of gypsies, who pitched their tents near ours at the foot of the hill. Two nights we passed together. On the third, they left, and Marioula forsook her little daughter and followed them. I slept peacefully. Day broke, and I awoke; my companion was not there. I searched, I called—no trace remained. Zemphira cried, I wept too! From that moment I became indifferent to all womankind. Never since has my gaze sought amongst them a new companion. My dreary hours I have spent alone."
Aleko: "What! Didst thou not instantly pursue the ingrate and her paramour, to plunge thy dagger in their false hearts?"
The Old Gypsy: "Why should I? Youth is freer than the birds. Who can restrain love? Everyone has his turn of happiness. Once fled, it will never return."
Aleko: "No, I am different. Without a struggle never would I yield my rights. At least, I would enjoy revenge. Ah, no! Even if I were to find my enemy lying asleep over the abyss of the sea, I declare that even then my foot should not spare him, but should unflinchingly kick the helpless villain into the depths of the ocean, and mock his sudden terrible awakening with a savage laugh of exultation. Long would his fall resound a sweet and merry echo in my ears." . . . . . . . A Young Gypsy: "One kiss, just one more embrace."