George. Zoe, I love you none the less; this knowledge brings no revolt to my heart, and I can overcome the obstacle.
Zoe. But I cannot.
George. We can leave this country, and go far away where none can know.
Zoe. And our mother, she who from infancy treated me with such fondness, she who, as you said, had most reason to spurn me, can she forget what I am? Will she gladly see you wedded to the child of her husband's slave? No! she would revolt from it, as all but you would; and if I consented to hear the cries of my heart, if I did not crush out my infant love, what would she say to the poor girl on whom she had bestowed so much? No, no!
George. Zoe, must we immolate our lives on her prejudice?
Zoe. Yes, for I'd rather be black than ungrateful! Ah, George, our race has at least one virtue—it knows how to suffer!
George. Each word you utter makes my love sink deeper into my heart.
Zoe. And I remained here to induce you to offer that heart to Dora!
George. If you bid me do so I will obey you—
Zoe. No, no! if you cannot be mine, O, let me not blush when I think of you.