George. If I dared to speak!
Zoe. That's just what you must do, and do it at once, or it will be too late.
George. Has my love been divined?
Zoe. It has been more than suspected.
George. Zoe, listen to me, then. I shall see this estate pass from me without a sigh, for it possesses no charm for me; the wealth I covet is the love of those around me—eyes that are rich in fond looks, lips that breathe endearing words; the only estate I value is the heart of one true woman, and the slaves I'd have are her thoughts.
Zoe. George, George, your words take away my breath!
George. The world, Zoe, the free struggle of minds and hands, if before me; the education bestowed on me by my dear uncle is a noble heritage which no sheriff can seize; with that I can build up a fortune, spread a roof over the heads I love, and place before them the food I have earned; I will work—
Zoe. Work! I thought none but colored people worked.
George. Work, Zoe, is the salt that gives savor to life.
Zoe. Dora said you were slow; if she could hear you now—