'Didst thou ever love?'
'I may have.'
'I thought so much,' replied she; 'and where is that love? Does it live on, or is it—dead?'
'It lives, but I am trying to kill it.'
'Wouldst thou be a murderer, Chios?'
'No, I mean well.'
'Tell me thy secret, and I will bury it in the grave of my heart. Whom—dost—thou—love?'
'I cannot tell thee, but she is not a Roman.'
'Then I know—it is Saronia. Let me lean upon thy arm, Chios. Lead me within—the night is chill.'