MISS JULIA
by August Strindberg
Translated by Edwin Bjoerkman
A NATURALISTIC TRAGEDY
1888
PERSONS
MISS JULIA, aged twenty-five
JEAN, a valet, aged thirty
CHRISTINE, a cook, aged thirty-five
The action takes place on Midsummer Eve, in the kitchen of the
count's country house.
MISS JULIA
SCENE
(A large kitchen: the ceiling and the side walls are hidden by
draperies and hangings. The rear wall runs diagonally across the
stage, from the left side and away from the spectators. On this
wall, to the left, there are two shelves full of utensils made of
copper, iron, and tin. The shelves are trimmed with scalloped
paper.)
(A little to the right may be seen three fourths of the big arched
doorway leading to the outside. It has double glass doors, through
which are seen a fountain with a cupid, lilac shrubs in bloom, and
the tops of some Lombardy poplars.)
(On the left side of the stage is seen the corner of a big cook
stove built of glazed bricks; also a part of the smoke-hood above
it.)
(From the right protrudes one end of the servants' dining-table
of white pine, with a few chairs about it.)
(The stove is dressed with bundled branches of birch. Twigs of
juniper are scattered on the floor.)
(On the table end stands a big Japanese spice pot full of lilac
blossoms.)
(An icebox, a kitchen-table, and a wash-stand.)
(Above the door hangs a big old-fashioned bell on a steel spring,
and the mouthpiece of a speaking-tube appears at the left of the
door.)
(CHRISTINE is standing by the stove, frying something in a pan. She
has on a dress of light-coloured cotton, which she has covered up
with a big kitchen apron.)
(JEAN enters, dressed in livery and carrying a pair of big, spurred
riding boots, which he places on the floor in such manner that they
remain visible to the spectators.)
JEAN. To-night Miss Julia is crazy again; absolutely crazy.
CHRISTINE. So you're back again?
JEAN. I took the count to the station, and when I came back by the
barn, I went in and had a dance, and there I saw the young lady
leading the dance with the gamekeeper. But when she caught sight of
me, she rushed right up to me and asked me to dance the ladies'
waltz with her. And ever since she's been waltzing like--well, I
never saw the like of it. She's crazy!
CHRISTINE. And has always been, but never the way it's been this
last fortnight, since her engagement was broken.
JEAN. Well, what kind of a story was that anyhow? He's a fine
fellow, isn't he, although he isn't rich? Ugh, but they're so full
of notions. [Sits down at the end of the table] It's peculiar
anyhow, that a young lady--hm!--would rather stay at home with the
servants--don't you think?--than go with her father to their
relatives!
CHRISTINE. Oh, I guess she feels sort of embarrassed by that rumpus
with her fellow.
JEAN. Quite likely. But there was some backbone to that man just
the same. Do you know how it happened, Christine? I saw it,
although I didn't care to let on.
CHRISTINE. No, did you?
JEAN. Sure, I did. They were in the stable-yard one evening, and
the young lady was training him, as she called it. Do you know what
that meant? She made him leap over her horse-whip the way you teach
a dog to jump. Twice he jumped and got a cut each time. The third
time he took the whip out of her hand and broke it into a thousand
bits. And then he got out.
CHRISTINE. So that's the way it happened! You don't say!
JEAN. Yes, that's how that thing happened. Well, Christine, what
have you got that's tasty?
CHRISTINE. [Serves from the pan and puts the plate before Jean] Oh,
just some kidney which I cut out of the veal roast.
JEAN. [Smelling the food] Fine! That's my great delice. [Feeling
the plate] But you might have warmed the plate.
CHRISTINE. Well, if you ain't harder to please than the count
himself! [Pulls his hair playfully.]
JEAN. [Irritated] Don't pull my hair! You know how sensitive I am.
CHRISTINE. Well, well, it was nothing but a love pull, you know.
[JEAN eats.]
[CHRISTINE opens a bottle of beer.]
JEAN. Beer-on Midsummer Eve? No, thank you! Then I have something
better myself. [Opens a table-drawer and takes out a bottle of
claret with yellow cap] Yellow seal, mind you! Give me a glass---and
you use those with stems when you drink it pure.
CHRISTINE. [Returns to the stove and puts a small pan on the fire]
Heaven preserve her that gets you for a husband, Mr. Finicky!
JEAN. Oh, rot! You'd be glad enough to get a smart fellow like me.
And I guess it hasn't hurt you that they call me your beau.
[Tasting the wine] Good! Pretty good! Just a tiny bit too cold. [He
warms the glass with his hand.] We got this at Dijon. It cost us
four francs per litre, not counting the bottle. And there was the
duty besides. What is it you're cooking--with that infernal smell?
CHRISTINE. Oh, it's some deviltry the young lady is going to give
Diana.
JEAN. You should choose your words with more care, Christine. But
why should you be cooking for a bitch on a holiday eve like this?
Is she sick?
CHRISTINE. Ye-es, she is sick. She's been running around with the
gate-keeper's pug--and now's there's trouble--and the young lady
just won't hear of it.
JEAN. The young lady is too stuck up in some ways and not proud
enough in others--just as was the countess while she lived. She was
most at home in the kitchen and among the cows, but she would never
drive with only one horse. She wore her cuffs till they were dirty,
but she had to have cuff buttons with a coronet on them. And
speaking of the young lady, she doesn't take proper care of herself
and her person. I might even say that she's lacking in refinement.
Just now, when she was dancing in the barn, she pulled the
gamekeeper away from Anna and asked him herself to come and dance
with her. We wouldn't act in that way. But that's just how it is:
when upper-class people want to demean themselves, then they grow---
mean! But she's splendid! Magnificent! Oh, such shoulders! And--and
so on!
CHRISTINE. Oh, well, don't brag too much! I've heard Clara talking,
who tends to her dressing.
JEAN. Pooh, Clara! You're always jealous of each other. I, who have
been out riding with her--And then the way she dances!
CHRISTINE. Say, Jean, won't you dance with me when I'm done?
JEAN. Of course I will.
CHRISTINE. Do you promise?
JEAN. Promise? When I say so, I'll do it. Well, here's thanks for
the good food. It tasted fine! [Puts the cork back into the bottle.]
JULIA. [Appears in the doorway, speaking to somebody on the
outside] I'll be back in a minute. You go right on in the meantime.
[JEAN slips the bottle into the table-drawer and rises
respectfully.]
JULIA.[Enters and goes over to CHRISTINE by the wash-stand] Well,
is it done yet?
[CHRISTINE signs to her that JEAN is present.]
JEAN. [Gallantly] The ladies are having secrets, I believe.
JULIA. [Strikes him in the face with her handkerchief] That's for
you, Mr. Pry!
JEAN. Oh, what a delicious odor that violet has!
JULIA. [With coquetry] Impudent! So you know something about
perfumes also? And know pretty well how to dance--Now don't peep!
Go away!
JEAN. [With polite impudence] Is it some kind of witches' broth the
ladies are cooking on Midsummer Eve--something to tell fortunes by
and bring out the lucky star in which one's future love is seen?
JULIA. [Sharply] If you can see that, you'll have good eyes,
indeed! [To CHRISTINE] Put it in a pint bottle and cork it well.
Come and dance a _schottische_ with me now, Jean.
JEAN. [Hesitatingly] I don't want to be impolite, but I had
promised to dance with Christine this time---
JULIA. Well, she can get somebody else--can't you, Christine? Won't
you let me borrow Jean from you?
CHRISTINE. That isn't for me to say. When Miss Julia is so
gracious, it isn't for him to say no. You just go along, and be
thankful for the honour, too!
JEAN. Frankly speaking, but not wishing to offend in any way, I
cannot help wondering if it's wise for Miss Julia to dance twice in
succession with the same partner, especially as the people here are
not slow in throwing out hints--
JULIA. [Flaring up] What is that? What kind of hints? What do you
mean?
JEAN. [Submissively] As you don't want to understand, I have to
speak more plainly. It don't look well to prefer one servant to all
the rest who are expecting to be honoured in the same unusual way--
JULIA. Prefer! What ideas! I'm surprised! I, the mistress of the
house, deign to honour this dance with my presence, and when it so
happens that I actually want to dance, I want to dance with one who
knows how to lead, so that I am not made ridiculous.
JEAN. As you command, Miss Julia! I am at your service!
JULIA. [Softened] Don't take it as a command. To-night we should
enjoy ourselves as a lot of happy people, and all rank should be
forgotten. Now give me your arm. Don't be afraid, Christine! I'll
return your beau to you!
[JEAN offers his arm to MISS JULIA and leads her out.]
***
PANTOMIME
Must be acted as if the actress were really alone in the place.
When necessary she turns her back to the public. She should not
look in the direction of the spectators, and she should not hurry
as if fearful that they might become impatient.
CHRISTINE is alone. A schottische tune played on a violin is
heard faintly in the distance
While humming the tune, CHRISTINE clears o$ the table after JEAN,
washes the plate at the kitchen table, wipes it, and puts it away
in a cupboard.
Then she takes of her apron, pulls out a small mirror from one of
the table-drawers and leans it against the flower jar on the table;
lights a tallow candle and heats a hairpin, which she uses to curl
her front hair.
Then she goes to the door and stands there listening. Returns to
the table. Discovers the handkerchief which MISS JULIA has left
behind, picks it up, and smells it, spreads it out absent-mindedly
and begins to stretch it, smooth it, fold it up, and so forth.
***
JEAN. [Enters alone] Crazy, that's what she is! The way she dances!
And the people stand behind the doors and grill at her. What do you
think of it, Christine?
CHRISTINE. Oh, she has her time now, and then she is always a
little queer like that. But are you going to dance with me now?
JEAN. You are not mad at me because I disappointed you?
CHRISTINE. No!--Not for a little thing like that, you know! And
also, I know my place--
JEAN. [Putting his arm around her waist] You are a, sensible girl,
Christine, and I think you'll make a good wife--
JULIA. [Enters and is unpleasantly surprised; speaks with forced
gayety] Yes, you are a fine partner--running away from your lady!
JEAN. On the contrary, Miss Julia. I have, as you see, looked up
the one I deserted.
JULIA. [Changing tone] Do you know, there is nobody that dances
like you!--But why do you wear your livery on an evening like this?
Take it off at once!
JEAN. Then I must ask you to step outside for a moment, as my black
coat is hanging right here. [Points toward the right and goes in
that direction.]
JULIA. Are you bashful on my account? Just to change a coat? Why
don't you go into your own room and come back again? Or, you can
stay right here, and I'll turn my back on you.
JEAN. With your permission, Miss Julia. [Goes further over to the
right; one of his arms can be seen as he changes his coat.]
JULIA [To CHRISTINE] Are you and Jean engaged, that he's so
familiar with you?
CHRISTINE. Engaged? Well, in a way. We call it that.
JULIA. Call it?
CHRISTINE. Well, Miss Julia, you have had a fellow of your own, and--
JULIA. We were really engaged--
CHRISTINE. But it didn't come to anything just the same--
[JEAN enters, dressed in black frock coat and black derby.]
JULIA. Tres gentil, Monsieur Jean! Tres gentil!
JEAN. Vous voulez plaisanter, Madame!
JULIA. Et vous voulez parler francais! Where did you learn it?
JEAN. In Switzerland, while I worked as sommelier in one of the
big hotels at Lucerne.
JULIA. But you look like a real gentleman in your frock coat!
Charming! [Sits down at the table.]
JEAN. Oh, you flatter me.
JULIA. [Offended] Flatter--you!
JEAN. My natural modesty does not allow me to believe that you
could be paying genuine compliments to one like me, and so I dare
to assume that you are exaggerating, or, as we call it, flattering.
JULIA. Where did you learn to use your words like that? You must
have been to the theatre a great deal?
JEAN. That, too. I have been to a lot of places.
JULIA. But you were born in this neighbourhood?
JEAN. My father was a cotter on the county attorney's property
right by here, and I can recall seeing you as a child, although
you, of course, didn't notice me.
JULIA. No, really!
JEAN. Yes, and I remember one time in particular--but of that I
can't speak.
JULIA. Oh, yes, do! Why--just for once.
JEAN. No, really, I cannot do it now. Another time, perhaps.
JULIA. Another time is no time. Is it as bad as that?
JEAN. It isn't bad, but it comes a little hard. Look at that one!
[Points to CHRISTINE, who has fallen asleep on a chair by the stove.]
JULIA. She'll make a pleasant wife. And perhaps she snores, too.
JEAN. No, she doesn't, but she talks in her sleep.
JULIA. [Cynically] How do you know?
JEAN. [Insolently] I have heard it.
[Pause during which they study each other.]
JULIA. Why don't you sit down?
JEAN. It wouldn't be proper in your presence.
JULIA. But if I order you to do it?
JEAN. Then I obey.
JULIA. Sit down, then!--But wait a moment! Can you give me
something to drink first?
JEAN. I don't know what we have got in the icebox. I fear it is
nothing but beer.
JULIA. And you call that nothing? My taste is so simple that I
prefer it to wine.
JEAN. [Takes a bottle of beer from the icebox and opens it; gets a
glass and a plate from the cupboard, and serves the beer] Allow me!
JULIA. Thank you. Don't you want some yourself?
JEAN. I don't care very much for beer, but if it is a command, of
course--
JULIA. Command?--I should think a polite gentleman might keep his
lady company.
JEAN. Yes, that's the way it should be. [Opens another bottle and
takes out a glass.]
JULIA. Drink my health now!
[JEAN hesitates.]
JULIA. Are you bashful--a big, grown-up man?
JEAN. [Kneels with mock solemnity and raises his glass] To the
health of my liege lady!
JULIA. Bravo!--And now you must also kiss my shoe in order to get
it just right.
[JEAN hesitates a moment; then he takes hold of her foot and
touches it lightly with his lips.]
JULIA. Excellent! You should have been on the stage.
JEAN. [Rising to his feet] This won't do any longer, Miss Julia.
Somebody might see us.
JULIA. What would that matter?
JEAN. Oh, it would set the people talking--that's all! And if you
only knew how their tongues were wagging up there a while ago---
JULIA. What did they have to say? Tell me--Sit down now!
JEAN. [Sits down] I don't want to hurt you, but they were using
expressions--which cast reflections of a kind that--oh, you know it
yourself! You are not a child, and when a lady is seen alone with a
man, drinking--no matter if he's only a servant--and at night---then--
JULIA. Then what? And besides, we are not alone. Isn't Christine
with us?
JEAN. Yes--asleep!
JULIA. Then I'll wake her. [Rising] Christine, are you asleep?
CHRISTINE. [In her sleep] Blub-blub-blub-blub!
JULIA. Christine!--Did you ever see such a sleeper.
CHRISTINE. [In her sleep] The count's boots are polished--put on
the coffee--yes, yes, yes--my-my--pooh!
JULIA. [Pinches her nose] Can't you wake up?
JEAN. [Sternly] You shouldn't bother those that sleep.
JULIA. [Sharply] What's that?
JEAN. One who has stood by the stove all day has a right to be
tired at night. And sleep should be respected.
JULIA. [Changing tone] It is fine to think like that, and it does
you honour--I thank you for it. [Gives JEAN her hand] Come now and
pick some lilacs for me.
[During the following scene CHRISTINE wakes up. She moves as if
still asleep and goes out to the right in order to go to bed.]
JEAN. With you, Miss Julia?
JULIA. With me!
JEAN. But it won't do! Absolutely not!
JULIA. I can't understand what you are thinking of. You couldn't
possibly imagine--
JEAN. No, not I, but the people.
JULIA. What? That I am fond of the valet?
JEAN. I am not at all conceited, but such things have happened--and
to the people nothing is sacred.
JULIA. You are an aristocrat, I think.
JEAN. Yes, I am.
JULIA. And I am stepping down--
JEAN. Take my advice, Miss Julia, don't step down. Nobody will
believe you did it on purpose. The people will always say that you
fell down.
JULIA. I think better of the people than you do. Come and see if I
am not right. Come along! [She ogles him.]
JEAN. You're mighty queer, do you know!
JULIA. Perhaps. But so are you. And for that matter, everything is
queer. Life, men, everything--just a mush that floats on top of the
water until it sinks, sinks down! I have a dream that comes back to
me ever so often. And just now I am reminded of it. I have climbed
to the top of a column and sit there without being able to tell how
to get down again. I get dizzy when I look down, and I must get
down, but I haven't the courage to jump off. I cannot hold on, and
I am longing to fall, and yet I don't fall. But there will be no
rest for me until I get down, no rest until I get down, down on the
ground. And if I did reach the ground, I should want to get still
further down, into the ground itself--Have you ever felt like that?
JEAN. No, my dream is that I am lying under a tall tree in a dark
wood. I want to get up, up to the top, so that I can look out over
the smiling landscape, where the sun is shining, and so that I can
rob the nest in which lie the golden eggs. And I climb and climb,
but the trunk is so thick and smooth, and it is so far to the first
branch. But I know that if I could only reach that first branch,
then I should go right on to the top as on a ladder. I have not
reached it yet, but I am going to, if it only be in my dreams.
JULIA. Here I am chattering to you about dreams! Come along! Only
into the park! [She offers her arm to him, and they go toward the
door.]
JEAN. We must sleep on nine midsummer flowers to-night, Miss Julia---
then our dreams will come true.
[They turn around in the doorway, and JEAN puts one hand up to his
eyes.]
JULIA. Let me see what you have got in your eye.
JEAN. Oh, nothing--just some dirt--it will soon be gone.
JULIA. It was my sleeve that rubbed against it. Sit down and let me
help you. [Takes him by the arm and makes him sit down; takes hold
of his head and bends it backwards; tries to get out the dirt with
a corner of her handkerchief] Sit still now, absolutely still!
[Slaps him on the hand] Well, can't you do as I say? I think you
are shaking---a big, strong fellow like you! [Feels his biceps] And
with such arms!
JEAN. [Ominously] Miss Julia!
JULIA. Yes, Monsieur Jean.
JEAN. _Attention! Je ne suis qu'un homme._
JULIA. Can't you sit still!--There now! Now it's gone. Kiss my hand
now, and thank me.
JEAN. [Rising] Miss Julia, listen to me. Christine has gone to bed
now--Won't you listen to me?
JULIA. Kiss my hand first.
JEAN. Listen to me!
JULIA. Kiss my hand first!
JEAN. All right, but blame nobody but yourself!
JULIA. For what?
JEAN. For what? Are you still a mere child at twenty-five? Don't
you know that it is dangerous to play with fire?
JULIA. Not for me. I am insured.
JEAN. [Boldly] No, you are not. And even if you were, there are
inflammable surroundings to be counted with.
JULIA. That's you, I suppose?
JEAN. Yes. Not because I am I, but because I am a young man--
JULIA. Of handsome appearance--what an incredible conceit! A Don
Juan, perhaps. Or a Joseph? On my soul, I think you are a Joseph!
JEAN. Do you?
JULIA. I fear it almost.
[JEAN goes boldly up to her and takes her around the waist in order
to kiss her.]
JULIA. [Gives him a cuff on the ear] Shame!
JEAN. Was that in play or in earnest?
JULIA. In earnest.
JEAN. Then you were in earnest a moment ago also. Your playing is
too serious, and that's the dangerous thing about it. Now I am
tired of playing, and I ask to be excused in order to resume my
work. The count wants his boots to be ready for him, and it is
after midnight already.
JULIA. Put away the boots.
JEAN. No, it's my work, which I am bound to do. But I have not
undertaken to be your playmate. It's something I can never become---
I hold myself too good for it.
JULIA. You're proud!
JEAN. In some ways, and not in others.
JULIA. Have you ever been in love?
JEAN. We don't use that word. But I have been fond of a lot of
girls, and once I was taken sick because I couldn't have the one I
wanted: sick, you know, like those princes in the Arabian Nights
who cannot eat or drink for sheer love.
JULIA. Who was it?
[JEAN remains silent.]
JULIA. Who was it?
JEAN. You cannot make me tell you.
JULIA. If I ask you as an equal, ask you as--a friend: who was it?
JEAN. It was you.
JULIA. [Sits down] How funny!
JEAN. Yes, as you say--it was ludicrous. That was the story, you
see, which I didn't want to tell you a while ago. But now I am
going to tell it. Do you know how the world looks from below--no,
you don't. No more than do hawks and falcons, of whom we never see
the back because they are always floating about high up in the sky.
I lived in the cotter's hovel, together with seven other children,
and a pig--out there on the grey plain, where there isn't a single
tree. But from our windows I could see the wall around the count's
park, and apple-trees above it. That was the Garden of Eden, and
many fierce angels were guarding it with flaming swords.
Nevertheless I and some other boys found our way to the Tree of
Life--now you despise me?
JULIA. Oh, stealing apples is something all boys do.
JEAN. You may say so now, but you despise me nevertheless. However---
once I got into the Garden of Eden with my mother to weed the onion
beds. Near by stood a Turkish pavillion, shaded by trees and
covered with honeysuckle. I didn't know what it was used for, but I
had never seen a more beautiful building. People went in and came
out again, and one day the door was left wide open. I stole up and
saw the walls covered with pictures of kings and emperors, and the
windows were hung with red, fringed curtains--now you know what I
mean. I--[breaks off a lilac sprig and holds it under MISS JULIA's
nose]--I had never been inside the manor, and I had never seen
anything but the church--and this was much finer. No matter where
my thoughts ran, they returned always--to that place. And gradually
a longing arose within me to taste the full pleasure of--enfin! I
sneaked in, looked and admired. Then I heard somebody coming. There
was only one way out for fine people, but for me there was another,
and I could do nothing else but choose it.
[JULIA, who has taken the lilac sprig, lets it drop on the table.]
JEAN. Then I started to run, plunged through a hedge of raspberry
bushes, chased right across a strawberry plantation, and came out
on the terrace where the roses grow. There I caught sight of a pink
dress and pair of white stockings--that was you! I crawled under a
pile of weeds--right into it, you know--into stinging thistles and
wet, ill-smelling dirt. And I saw you walking among the roses, and
I thought: if it be possible for a robber to get into heaven and
dwell with the angels, then it is strange that a cotter's child,
here on God's own earth, cannot get into the park and play with the
count's daughter.
JULIA. [Sentimentally] Do you think all poor children have the same
thoughts as you had in this case?
JEAN. [Hesitatingly at first; then with conviction] If _all_ poor---
yes---of course. Of course!
JULIA. It must be a dreadful misfortune to be poor.
JEAN. [In a tone of deep distress and with rather exaggerated
emphasis] Oh, Miss Julia! Oh!--A dog may lie on her ladyship's
sofa; a horse may have his nose patted by the young lady's hand,
but a servant--[changing his tone]--oh well, here and there you
meet one made of different stuff, and he makes a way for himself in
the world, but how often does it happen?--However, do you know what
I did? I jumped into the mill brook with my clothes on, and was
pulled out, and got a licking. But the next Sunday, when my father
and the rest of the people were going over to my grandmother's, I
fixed it so that I could stay at home. And then I washed myself
with soap and hot water, and put on my best clothes, and went to
church, where I could see you. I did see you, and went home
determined to die. But I wanted to die beautifully and pleasantly,
without any pain. And then I recalled that it was dangerous to
sleep under an elder bush. We had a big one that was in full bloom.
I robbed it of all its flowers, and then I put them in the big box
where the oats were kept and lay down in them. Did you ever notice
the smoothness of oats? Soft to the touch as the skin of the human
body! However, I pulled down the lid and closed my eyes--fell
asleep and was waked up a very sick boy. But I didn't die, as you
can see. What I wanted--that's more than I can tell. Of course,
there was not the least hope of winning you---but you symbolised the
hopelessness of trying to get out of the class into which I was
born.
JULIA. You narrate splendidly, do you know! Did you ever go to
school?
JEAN. A little. But I have read a lot of novels and gone to the
theatre a good deal. And besides, I have listened to the talk of
better-class people, and from that I have learned most of all.
JULIA. Do you stand around and listen to what we are saying?
JEAN. Of course! And I have heard a lot, too, when I was on the box
of the carriage, or rowing the boat. Once I heard you, Miss Julia,
and one of your girl friends--
JULIA. Oh!--What was it you heard then?
JEAN. Well, it wouldn't be easy to repeat. But I was rather
surprised, and I couldn't understand where you had learned all
those words. Perhaps, at bottom, there isn't quite so much
difference as they think between one kind of people and another.
JULIA. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! We don't live as you do
when we are engaged.
JEAN. [Looking hard at her] Is it so certain?--Well, Miss Julia, it
won't pay to make yourself out so very innocent to me---
JULIA. The man on whom I bestowed my love was a scoundrel.
JEAN. That's what you always say--afterwards.
JULIA. Always?
JEAN. Always, I believe, for I have heard the same words used
several times before, on similar occasions.
JULIA. What occasions?
JEAN. Like the one of which we were speaking. The last time--
JULIA. [Rising] Stop! I don't want to hear any more!
JEAN. Nor did _she_--curiously enough! Well, then I ask permission
to go to bed.
JULIA. [Gently] Go to bed on Midsummer Eve?
JEAN. Yes, for dancing with that mob out there has really no
attraction for me.
JULIA. Get the key to the boat and take me out on the lake--I want
to watch the sunrise.
JEAN. Would that be wise?
JULIA. It sounds as if you were afraid of your reputation.
JEAN. Why not? I don't care to be made ridiculous, and I don't care
to be discharged without a recommendation, for I am trying to get
on in the world. And then I feel myself under a certain obligation
to Christine.
JULIA. So it's Christine now
JEAN. Yes, but it's you also--Take my advice and go to bed!
JULIA. Am I to obey you?
JEAN. For once--and for your own sake! The night is far gone.
Sleepiness makes us drunk, and the head grows hot. Go to bed! And
besides--if I am not mistaken---I can hear the crowd coming this way
to look for me. And if we are found together here, you are lost!
CHORUS. [Is heard approaching]:
Through the fields come two ladies a-walking,
Treederee-derallah, treederee-derah.
And one has her shoes full of water,
Treederee-derallah-lah.
They're talking of hundreds of dollars,
Treederee-derallah, treederee-derah.
But have not between them a dollar
Treederee-derallah-lah.
This wreath I give you gladly,
Treederee-derallah, treederee-derah.
But love another madly,
Treederee-derallah-lah.
JULIA. I know the people, and I love them, just as they love me.
Let them come, and you'll see.
JEAN. No, Miss Julia, they don't love you. They take your food and
spit at your back. Believe me. Listen to me--can't you hear what
they are singing?--No, don't pay any attention to it!
JULIA. [Listening] What is it they are singing?
JEAN. Oh, something scurrilous. About you and me.
JULIA. How infamous! They ought to be ashamed! And the treachery of
it!
JEAN. The mob is always cowardly. And in such a fight as this there
is nothing to do but to run away.
JULIA. Run away? Where to? We cannot get out. And we cannot go into
Christine's room.
JEAN. Oh, we cannot? Well, into my room, then! Necessity knows no
law. And you can trust me, for I am your true and frank and
respectful friend.
JULIA. But think only-think if they should look for you in there!
JEAN. I shall bolt the door. And if they try to break it I open,
I'll shoot!--Come! [Kneeling before her] Come!
JULIA. [Meaningly] And you promise me--?
JEAN. I swear!
[MISS JULIA goes quickly out to the right. JEAN follows her
eagerly.]
***
BALLET
The peasants enter. They are decked out in their best and carry
flowers in their hats. A fiddler leads them. On the table they
place a barrel of small-beer and a keg of "braennvin," or white
Swedish whiskey, both of them decorated with wreathes woven out of
leaves. First they drink. Then they form in ring and sing and dance
to the melody heard before:
"Through the fields come two ladies a-walking."
The dance finished, they leave singing.
***
JULIA. [Enters alone. On seeing the disorder in the kitchen, she
claps her hands together. Then she takes out a powder-puff and
begins to powder her face.]
JEAN. [Enters in a state of exaltation] There you see! And you
heard, didn't you? Do you think it possible to stay here?
JULIA. No, I don't think so. But what are we to do?
JEAN. Run away, travel, far away from here.
JULIA. Travel? Yes-but where?
JEAN. To Switzerland, the Italian lakes--you have never been there?
JULIA. No. Is the country beautiful?
JEAN. Oh! Eternal summer! Orange trees! Laurels! Oh!
JULIA. But then-what are we to do down there?
JEAN. I'll start a hotel, everything first class, including the
customers?
JULIA. Hotel?
JEAN. That's the life, I tell you! Constantly new faces and new
languages. Never a minute free for nerves or brooding. No trouble
about what to do--for the work is calling to be done: night and
day, bells that ring, trains that whistle, 'busses that come and
go; and gold pieces raining on the counter all the time. That's the
life for you!
JULIA. Yes, that is life. And I?
JEAN. The mistress of everything, the chief ornament of the house.
With your looks--and your manners--oh, success will be assured!
Enormous! You'll sit like a queen in the office and keep the slaves
going by the touch of an electric button. The guests will pass in
review before your throne and timidly deposit their treasures on
your table. You cannot imagine how people tremble when a bill is
presented to them--I'll salt the items, and you'll sugar them with
your sweetest smiles. Oh, let us get away from here--[pulling a
time-table from his pocket]--at once, with the next train! We'll be
in Malmoe at 6.30; in Hamburg at 8.40 to-morrow morning; in Frankfort
and Basel a day later. And to reach Como by way of the St. Gotthard
it will take us--let me see--three days. Three days!
JULIA. All that is all right. But you must give me some courage--
Jean. Tell me that you love me. Come and take me in your arms.
JEAN. [Reluctantly] I should like to--but I don't dare. Not in this
house again. I love you--beyond doubt--or, can you doubt it, Miss
Julia?
JULIA. [With modesty and true womanly feeling] Miss? Call me Julia.
Between us there can be no barriers here after. Call me Julia!
JEAN. [Disturbed] I cannot! There will be barriers between us as
long as we stay in this house--there is the past, and there is the
count---and I have never met another person for whom I felt such
respect. If I only catch sight of his gloves on a chair I feel
small. If I only hear that bell up there, I jump like a shy horse.
And even now, when I see his boots standing there so stiff and
perky, it is as if something made my back bend. [Kicking at the
boots] It's nothing but superstition and tradition hammered into us
from childhood--but it can be as easily forgotten again. Let us
only get to another country, where they have a republic, and you'll
see them bend their backs double before my liveried porter. You
see, backs have to be bent, but not mine. I wasn't born to that
kind of thing. There's better stuff in me--character--and if I only
get hold of the first branch, you'll see me do some climbing.
To-day I am a valet, but next year I'll be a hotel owner. In ten
years I can live on the money I have made, and then I'll go to
Roumania and get myself an order. And I may--note well that I say
_may_--end my days as a count.
JULIA. Splendid, splendid!
JEAN. Yes, in Roumania the title of count can be had for cash, and
so you'll be a countess after all. My countess!
JULIA. What do I care about all I now cast behind me! Tell me that
you love me: otherwise--yes, what am I otherwise?
JEAN. I will tell you so a thousand times--later. But not here. And
above all, no sentimentality, or everything will be lost. We must
look at the matter in cold blood, like sensible people. [Takes out
a cigar, cuts of the point, and lights it] Sit down there now, and
I'll sit here, and then we'll talk as if nothing had happened.
JULIA. [In despair] Good Lord! Have you then no feelings at all?
JEAN. I? No one is more full of feeling than I am. But I know how
to control myself.
JULIA. A while ago you kissed my shoe--and now!
JEAN. [Severely] Yes, that was then. Now we have other things to
think of.
JULIA. Don't speak harshly to me!
JEAN. No, but sensibly. One folly has been committed--don't let us
commit any more! The count may be here at any moment, and before he
comes our fate must be settled. What do you think of my plans for
the future? Do you approve of them?
JULIA. They seem acceptable, on the whole. But there is one
question: a big undertaking of that kind will require a big capital
have you got it?
JEAN. [Chewing his cigar] I? Of course! I have my expert knowledge,
my vast experience, my familiarity with several languages. That's
the very best kind of capital, I should say.
JULIA. But it won't buy you a railroad ticket even.
JEAN. That's true enough. And that is just why I am looking for a
backer to advance the needful cash.
JULIA. Where could you get one all of a sudden?
JEAN. It's for you to find him if you want to become my partner.
JULIA. I cannot do it, and I have nothing myself. [Pause.]
JEAN. Well, then that's off--
JULIA. And---
JEAN. Everything remains as before.
JULIA. Do you think I am going to stay under this roof as your
concubine? Do you think I'll let the people point their fingers at
me? Do you think I can look my father in the face after this? No,
take me away from here, from all this humiliation and disgrace!--
Oh, what have I done? My God, my God! [Breaks into tears.]
JEAN. So we have got around to that tune now!--What you have done?
Nothing but what many others have done before you.
JULIA. [Crying hysterically] And now you're despising me!--I'm
falling, I'm falling!
JEAN. Fall down to me, and I'll lift you up again afterwards.
JULIA. What horrible power drew me to you? Was it the attraction
which the strong exercises on the weak--the one who is rising on
one who is falling? Or was it love? This love! Do you know what
love is?
JEAN. I? Well, I should say so! Don't you think I have been there
before?
JULIA. Oh, the language you use, and the thoughts you think!
JEAN. Well, that's the way I was brought up, and that's the way I
am. Don't get nerves now and play the exquisite, for now one of us
is just as good as the other. Look here, my girl, let me treat you
to a glass of something superfine. [He opens the table-drawer,
takes out the wine bottle and fills up two glasses that have
already been used.]
JULIA. Where did you get that wine?
JEAN. In the cellar.
JULIA. My father's Burgundy!
JEAN. Well, isn't it good enough for the son-in-law?
JULIA. And I am drinking beer--I!
JEAN. It shows merely that I have better taste than you.
JULIA. Thief!
JEAN. Do you mean to tell on me?
JULIA. Oh, oh! The accomplice of a house thief! Have I been drunk,
or have I been dreaming all this night? Midsummer Eve! The feast of
innocent games---
JEAN. Innocent--hm!
JULIA. [Walking back and forth] Can there be another human being on
earth so unhappy as I am at this moment'
JEAN. But why should you be? After such a conquest? Think of
Christine in there. Don't you think she has feelings also?
JULIA. I thought so a while ago, but I don't think so any longer.
No, a menial is a menial--
JEAN. And a whore a whore!
JULIA. [On her knees, with folded hands] O God in heaven, make an
end of this wretched life! Take me out of the filth into which I am
sinking! Save me! Save me!
JEAN. I cannot deny that I feel sorry for you. When I was lying
among the onions and saw you up there among the roses--I'll tell
you now--I had the same nasty thoughts that all boys have.
JULIA. And you who wanted to die for my sake!
JEAN. Among the oats. That was nothing but talk.
JULIA. Lies in other words!
JEAN. [Beginning to feel sleepy] Just about. I think I read the
story in a paper, and it was about a chimney-sweep who crawled into
a wood-box full of lilacs because a girl had brought suit against
him for not supporting her kid---
JULIA. So that's the sort you are--
JEAN. Well, I had to think of something--for it's the high-faluting
stuff that the women bite on.
JULIA. Scoundrel!
JEAN. Rot!
JULIA. And now you have seen the back of the hawk--
JEAN. Well, I don't know--
JULIA. And I was to be the first branch--
JEAN. But the branch was rotten--
JULIA. I was to be the sign in front of the hotel--
JEAN. And I the hotel--
JULIA. Sit at your counter, and lure your customers, and doctor
your bills--
JEAN. No, that I should have done myself--
JULIA. That a human soul can be so steeped in dirt!
JEAN. Well, wash it off!
JULIA. You lackey, you menial, stand up when I talk to you!
JEAN. You lackey-love, you mistress of a menial--shut up and get
out of here! You're the right one to come and tell me that I am
vulgar. People of my kind would never in their lives act as
vulgarly as you have acted to-night. Do you think any servant girl
would go for a man as you did? Did you ever see a girl of my class
throw herself at anybody in that way? I have never seen the like of
it except among beasts and prostitutes.
JULIA. [Crushed] That's right: strike me, step on me--I haven't
deserved any better! I am a wretched creature. But help me! Help
me out of this, if there be any way to do so!
JEAN. [In a milder tone] I don't want to lower myself by a denial
of my share in the honour of seducing. But do you think a person in
my place would have dared to raise his eyes to you, if the
invitation to do so had not come from yourself? I am still sitting
here in a state of utter surprise--
JULIA. And pride--
JEAN. Yes, why not? Although I must confess that the victory was
too easy to bring with it any real intoxication.
JULIA. Strike me some more!
JEAN. [Rising] No! Forgive me instead what I have been saying. I
don't want to strike one who is disarmed, and least of all a lady.
On one hand I cannot deny that it has given me pleasure to discover
that what has dazzled us below is nothing but cat-gold; that the
hawk is simply grey on the back also; that there is powder on the
tender cheek; that there may be black borders on the polished
nails; and that the handkerchief may be dirty, although it smells
of perfume. But on the other hand it hurts me to have discovered
that what I was striving to reach is neither better nor more
genuine. It hurts me to see you sinking so low that you are far
beneath your own cook--it hurts me as it hurts to see the Fall
flowers beaten down by the rain and turned into mud.
JULIA. You speak as if you were already above me?
JEAN. Well, so I am. Don't you see: I could have made a countess of
you, but you could never make me a count.
JULIA. But I am born of a count, and that's more than you can ever
achieve.
JEAN. That's true. But I might be the father of counts--if--
JULIA. But you are a thief--and I am not.
JEAN. Thief is not the worst. There are other kinds still farther
down. And then, when I serve in a house, I regard myself in a sense
as a member of the family, as a child of the house, and you don't
call it theft when children pick a few of the berries that load
down the vines. [His passion is aroused once more] Miss Julia, you
are a magnificent woman, and far too good for one like me. You were
swept along by a spell of intoxication, and now you want to cover
up your mistake by making yourself believe that you are in love
with me. Well, you are not, unless possibly my looks might tempt
you---in which case your love is no better than mine. I could never
rest satisfied with having you care for nothing in me but the mere
animal, and your love I can never win.
JULIA. Are you so sure of that?
JEAN. You mean to say that it might be possible? That I might love
you: yes, without doubt--for you are beautiful, refined, [goes up
to her and takes hold of her hand] educated, charming when you want
to be so, and it is not likely that the flame will ever burn out in
a man who has once been set of fire by you. [Puts his arm around
her waist] You are like burnt wine with strong spices in it, and
one of your kisses--
[He tries to lead her away, but she frees herself gently from his
hold.]
JULIA. Leave me alone! In that way you cannot win me.
JEAN. How then?--Not in that way! Not by caresses and sweet words!
Not by thought for the future, by escape from disgrace! How then?
JULIA. How? How? I don't know--Not at all! I hate you as I hate
rats, but I cannot escape from you!
JEAN. Escape with me!
JULIA. [Straightening up] Escape? Yes, we must escape!--But I am so
tired. Give me a glass of wine.
[JEAN pours out wine.]
JULIA. [Looks at her watch] But we must have a talk first. We have
still some time left. [Empties her glass and holds it out for more.]
JEAN. Don't drink so much. It will go to your head.
JULIA. What difference would that make?
JEAN. What difference would it make? It's vulgar to get drunk--What
was it you wanted to tell me?
JULIA. We must get away. But first we must have a talk--that is, I
must talk, for so far you have done all the talking. You have told
me about your life. Now I must tell you about mine, so that we know
each other right to the bottom before we begin the journey together.
JEAN. One moment, pardon me! Think first, so that you don't regret
it afterwards, when you have already given up the secrets of your
life.
JULIA. Are you not my friend?
JEAN. Yes, at times--but don't rely on me.
JULIA. You only talk like that--and besides, my secrets are known
to everybody. You see, my mother was not of noble birth, but came
of quite plain people. She was brought up in the ideas of her time
about equality, and woman's independence, and that kind of thing.
And she had a decided aversion to marriage. Therefore, when my
father proposed to her, she said she wouldn't marry him--and then
she did it just the same. I came into the world--against my
mother's wish, I have come to think. Then my mother wanted to bring
me up in a perfectly natural state, and at the same time I was to
learn everything that a boy is taught, so that I might prove that a
woman is just as good as a man. I was dressed as a boy, and was
taught how to handle a horse, but could have nothing to do with the
cows. I had to groom and harness and go hunting on horseback. I was
even forced to learn something about agriculture. And all over the
estate men were set to do women's work, and women to do men's--with
the result that everything went to pieces and we became the
laughing-stock of the whole neighbourhood. At last my father must
have recovered from the spell cast over him, for he rebelled, and
everything was changed to suit his own ideas. My mother was taken
sick--what kind of sickness it was I don't know, but she fell often
into convulsions, and she used to hide herself in the garret or in
the garden, and sometimes she stayed out all night. Then came the
big fire, of which you have heard. The house, the stable, and the
barn were burned down, and this under circumstances which made it
look as if the fire had been set on purpose. For the disaster
occurred the day after our insurance expired, and the money sent
for renewal of the policy had been delayed by the messenger's
carelessness, so that it came too late. [She fills her glass again
and drinks.]
JEAN. Don't drink any more.
JULIA. Oh, what does it matter!--We were without a roof over our
heads and had to sleep in the carriages. My father didn't know
where to get money for the rebuilding of the house. Then my mother
suggested that he try to borrow from a childhood friend of hers, a
brick manufacturer living not far from here. My father got the
loan, but was not permitted to pay any interest, which astonished
him. And so the house was built up again. [Drinks again] Do you
know who set fire to the house?
JEAN. Her ladyship, your mother!
JULIA. Do you know who the brick manufacturer was?
JEAN. Your mother's lover?
JULIA. Do you know to whom the money belonged?
JEAN. Wait a minute--no, that I don't know.
JULIA. To my mother.
JEAN. In other words, to the count, if there was no settlement.
JULIA. There was no settlement. My mother possessed a small fortune
of her own which she did not want to leave in my father's control,
so she invested it with--her friend.
JEAN. Who copped it.
JULIA. Exactly! He kept it. All this came to my father's knowledge.
He couldn't bring suit; he couldn't pay his wife's lover; he
couldn't prove that it was his wife's money. That was my mother's
revenge because he had made himself master in his own house. At
that time he came near shooting himself--it was even rumoured that
he had tried and failed. But he took a new lease of life, and my
mother had to pay for what she had done. I can tell you that those
were five years I'll never forget! My sympathies were with my
father, but I took my mother's side because I was not aware of the
true circumstances. From her I learned to suspect and hate men--for
she hated the whole sex, as you have probably heard--and I promised
her on my oath that I would never become a man's slave.
JEAN. And so you became engaged to the County Attorney.
JULIA. Yes, in order that he should be my slave.
JEAN. And he didn't want to?
JULIA. Oh, he wanted, but I wouldn't let him. I got tired of him.
JEAN. Yes, I saw it--in the stable-yard.
JULIA. What did you see?
JEAN. Just that--how he broke the engagement.
JULIA. That's a lie! It was I who broke it. Did he say he did it,
the scoundrel?
JEAN. Oh, he was no scoundrel, I guess. So you hate men, Miss
Julia?
JULIA. Yes! Most of the time. But now and then--when the weakness
comes over me--oh, what shame!
JEAN. And you hate me too?
JULIA. Beyond measure! I should like to kill you like a wild beast--
JEAN. As you make haste to shoot a mad dog. Is that right?
JULIA. That's right!
JEAN. But now there is nothing to shoot with--and there is no dog.
What are we to do then?
JULIA. Go abroad.
JEAN. In order to plague each other to death?
JULIA. No-in order to enjoy ourselves: a couple of days, a week, as
long as enjoyment is possible. And then--die!
JEAN. Die? How silly! Then I think it's much better to start a
hotel.
JULIA. [Without listening to JEAN]--At Lake Como, where the sun is
always shining, and the laurels stand green at Christmas, and the
oranges are glowing.
JEAN. Lake Como is a rainy hole, and I could see no oranges except
in the groceries. But it is a good place for tourists, as it has a
lot of villas that can be rented to loving couples, and that's a
profitable business--do you know why? Because they take a lease for
six months--and then they leave after three weeks.
JULIA. [Naively] Why after three weeks?
JEAN. Because they quarrel, of course. But the rent has to be paid
just the same. And then you can rent the house again. And that way
it goes on all the time, for there is plenty of love--even if it
doesn't last long.
JULIA. You don't want to die with me?
JEAN. I don't want to die at all. Both because I am fond of living,
and because I regard suicide as a crime against the Providence
which has bestowed life on us.
JULIA. Do you mean to say that you believe in God?
JEAN. Of course, I do. And I go to church every other Sunday.
Frankly speaking, now I am tired of all this, and now I am going to
bed.
JULIA. So! And you think that will be enough for me? Do you know
what you owe a woman that you have spoiled?
JEAN. [Takes out his purse and throws a silver coin on the table]
You're welcome! I don't want to be in anybody's debt.
JULIA. [Pretending not to notice the insult] Do you know what the
law provides--
JEAN. Unfortunately the law provides no punishment for a woman
who seduces a man.
JULIA. [As before] Can you think of any escape except by our
going abroad and getting married, and then getting a divorce?
JEAN. Suppose I refuse to enter into this _mesaillance_?
JULIA. _Mesaillance_--
JEAN. Yes, for me. You see, I have better ancestry than you, for
nobody in my family was ever guilty of arson.
JULIA. How do you know?
JEAN. Well, nothing is known to the contrary, for we keep no
Pedigrees--except in the police bureau. But I have read about your
pedigree in a book that was lying on the drawing-room table. Do you
know who was your first ancestor? A miller who let his wife sleep
with the king one night during the war with Denmark. I have no such
ancestry. I have none at all, but I can become an ancestor myself.
JULIA. That's what I get for unburdening my heart to one not worthy
of it; for sacrificing my family's honour--
JEAN. Dishonour! Well, what was it I told you? You shouldn't drink,
for then you talk. And you must not talk!
JULIA. Oh, how I regret what I have done! How I regret it! If at
least you loved me!
JEAN. For the last time: what do you mean? Am I to weep? Am I to
jump over your whip? Am I to kiss you, and lure you down to Lake
Como for three weeks, and so on? What am I to do? What do you
expect? This is getting to be rather painful! But that's what comes
from getting mixed up with women. Miss Julia! I see that you are
unhappy; I know that you are suffering; but I cannot understand
you. We never carry on like that. There is never any hatred between
us. Love is to us a play, and we play at it when our work leaves us
time to do so. But we have not the time to do so all day and all
night, as you have. I believe you are sick--I am sure you are sick.
JULIA. You should be good to me--and now you speak like a human
being.
JEAN. All right, but be human yourself. You spit on me, and then
you won't let me wipe myself--on you!
JULIA. Help me, help me! Tell me only what I am to do--where I am
to turn?
JEAN. O Lord, if I only knew that myself!
JULIA. I have been exasperated, I have been mad, but there ought to
be some way of saving myself.
JEAN. Stay right here and keep quiet. Nobody knows anything.
JULIA. Impossible! The people know, and Christine knows.
JEAN. They don't know, and they would never believe it possible.
JULIA. [Hesitating] But-it might happen again.
JEAN. That's true.
JULIA. And the results?
JEAN. [Frightened] The results! Where was my head when I didn't
think of that! Well, then there is only one thing to do--you must
leave. At once! I can't go with you, for then everything would be
lost, so you must go alone--abroad--anywhere!
JULIA. Alone? Where?--I can't do it.
JEAN. You must! And before the count gets back. If you stay, then
you know what will happen. Once on the wrong path, one wants to
keep on, as the harm is done anyhow. Then one grows more and more
reckless--and at last it all comes out. So you must get away! Then
you can write to the count and tell him everything, except that it
was me. And he would never guess it. Nor do I think he would be
very anxious to find out.
JULIA. I'll go if you come with me.
JEAN. Are you stark mad, woman? Miss Julia to run away with her
valet! It would be in the papers in another day, and the count
could never survive it.
JULIA. I can't leave! I can't stay! Help me! I am so tired, so
fearfully tired. Give me orders! Set me going, for I can no longer
think, no longer act---
JEAN. Do you see now what good-for-nothings you are! Why do you
strut and turn up your noses as if you were the lords of creation?
Well, I am going to give you orders. Go up and dress. Get some
travelling money, and then come back again.
JULIA: [In an undertone] Come up with me!
JEAN. To your room? Now you're crazy again! [Hesitates a moment]
No, you must go at once! [Takes her by the hand and leads her out.]
JULIA. [On her way out] Can't you speak kindly to me, Jean?
JEAN. An order must always sound unkind. Now you can find out how
it feels!
[JULIA goes out.]
[JEAN, alone, draws a sigh of relief; sits down at the table; takes
out a note-book and a pencil; figures aloud from time to time; dumb
play until CHRISTINE enters dressed for church; she has a false
shirt front and a white tie in one of her hands.]
CHRISTINE. Goodness gracious, how the place looks! What have you
been up to anyhow?
JEAN. Oh, it was Miss Julia who dragged in the people. Have you
been sleeping so hard that you didn't hear anything at all?
CHRISTINE. I have been sleeping like a log.
JEAN. And dressed for church already?
CHRISTINE. Yes, didn't you promise to come with me to communion
to-day?
JEAN. Oh, yes, I remember now. And there you've got the finery.
Well, come on with it. [Sits down; CHRISTINE helps him to put on
the shirt front and the white tie.]
[Pause.]
JEAN. [Sleepily] What's the text to-day?
CHRISTINE. Oh, about John the Baptist beheaded, I guess.
JEAN. That's going to be a long story, I'm sure. My, but you choke
me! Oh, I'm so sleepy, so sleepy!
CHRISTINE. Well, what has been keeping you up all night? Why, man,
you're just green in the face!
JEAN. I have been sitting here talking with Miss Julia.
CHRISTINE. She hasn't an idea of what's proper, that creature!
[Pause.]
JEAN. Say, Christine.
CHRISTINE. Well?
JEAN. Isn't it funny anyhow, when you come to think of it? Her!
CHRISTINE. What is it that's funny?
JEAN. Everything!
[Pause.]
CHRISTINE. [Seeing the glasses on the table that are only
half-emptied] So you've been drinking together also?
JEAN. Yes.
CHRISTINE. Shame on you! Look me in the eye!
JEAN. Yes.
CHRISTINE. Is it possible? Is it possible?
JEAN. [After a moment's thought] Yes, it is!
CHRISTINE. Ugh! That's worse than I could ever have believed. It's
awful!
JEAN. You are not jealous of her, are you?
CHRISTINE. No, not of her. Had it been Clara or Sophie, then I'd
have scratched your eyes out. Yes, that's the way I feel about it,
and I can't tell why. Oh my, but that was nasty!
JEAN. Are you mad at her then?
CHRISTINE. No, but at you! It was wrong of you, very wrong! Poor
girl! No, I tell you, I don't want to stay in this house any
longer, with people for whom it is impossible to have any respect.
JEAN. Why should you have any respect for them?
CHRISTINE. And you who are such a smarty can't tell that! You
wouldn't serve people who don't act decently, would you? It's to
lower oneself, I think.
JEAN. Yes, but it ought to be a consolation to us that they are not
a bit better than we.
CHRISTINE. No, I don't think so. For if they're no better, then
it's no use trying to get up to them. And just think of the count!
Think of him who has had so much sorrow in his day! No, I don't
want to stay any longer in this house--And with a fellow like you,
too. If it had been the county attorney--if it had only been some
one of her own sort--
JEAN. Now look here!
CHRISTINE. Yes, yes! You're all right in your way, but there's
after all some difference between one kind of people and another---
No, but this is something I'll never get over!--And the young lady
who was so proud, and so tart to the men, that you couldn't believe
she would ever let one come near her--and such a one at that! And
she who wanted to have poor Diana shot because she had been running
around with the gate-keeper's pug!--Well, I declare!--But I won't
stay here any longer, and next October I get out of here.
JEAN. And then?
CHRISTINE. Well, as we've come to talk of that now, perhaps it
would be just as well if you looked for something, seeing that
we're going to get married after all.
JEAN. Well, what could I look for? As a married man I couldn't get
a place like this.
CHRISTINE. No, I understand that. But you could get a job as a
janitor, or maybe as a messenger in some government bureau. Of
course, the public loaf is always short in weight, but it comes
steady, and then there is a pension for the widow and the children--
JEAN. [Making a face] That's good and well, but it isn't my style
to think of dying all at once for the sake of wife and children. I
must say that my plans have been looking toward something better
than that kind of thing.
CHRISTINE. Your plans, yes--but you've got obligations also, and
those you had better keep in mind!
JEAN. Now don't you get my dander up by talking of obligations! I
know what I've got to do anyhow. [Listening for some sound on the
outside] However, we've plenty of time to think of all this. Go in
now and get ready, and then we'll go to church.
CHRISTINE. Who is walking around up there?
JEAN. I don't know, unless it be Clara.
CHRISTINE. [Going out] It can't be the count, do you think, who's
come home without anybody hearing him?
JEAN. [Scared] The count? No, that isn't possible, for then he
would have rung for me.
CHRISTINE. [As she goes out] Well, God help us all! Never have I
seen the like of it!
[The sun has risen and is shining on the tree tops in the park. The
light changes gradually until it comes slantingly in through the
windows. JEAN goes to the door and gives a signal.]
JULIA. [Enters in travelling dress and carrying a small birdcage
covered up with a towel; this she places on a chair] Now I am
ready.
JEAN. Hush! Christine is awake.
JULIA. [Showing extreme nervousness during the following scene] Did
she suspect anything?
JEAN. She knows nothing at all. But, my heavens, how you look!
JULIA. How do I look?
JEAN. You're as pale as a corpse, and--pardon me, but your face is
dirty.
JULIA. Let me wash it then--Now! [She goes over to the washstand
and washes her face and hands] Give me a towel--Oh!--That's the sun
rising!
JEAN. And then the ogre bursts.
JULIA. Yes, ogres and trolls were abroad last night!--But listen,
Jean. Come with me, for now I have the money.
JEAN. [Doubtfully] Enough?
JULIA. Enough to start with. Come with me, for I cannot travel
alone to-day. Think of it--Midsummer Day, on a stuffy train, jammed
with people who stare at you--and standing still at stations when
you want to fly. No, I cannot! I cannot! And then the memories will
come: childhood memories of Midsummer Days, when the inside of the
church was turned into a green forest--birches and lilacs; the
dinner at the festive table with relatives and friends; the
afternoon in the park, with dancing and music, flowers and games!
Oh, you may run and run, but your memories are in the baggage-car,
and with them remorse and repentance!
JEAN. I'll go with you-but at once, before it's too late. This very
moment!
JULIA. Well, get dressed then. [Picks up the cage.]
JEAN. But no baggage! That would only give us away.
JULIA. No, nothing at all! Only what we can take with us in the
car.
JEAN. [Has taken down his hat] What have you got there? What is it?
JULIA. It's only my finch. I can't leave it behind.
JEAN. Did you ever! Dragging a bird-cage along with us! You must be
raving mad! Drop the cage!
JULIA. The only thing I take with me from my home! The only living
creature that loves me since Diana deserted me! Don't be cruel! Let
me take it along!
JEAN. Drop the cage, I tell you! And don't talk so loud--Christine
can hear us.
JULIA. No, I won't let it fall into strange hands. I'd rather have
you kill it!
JEAN. Well, give it to me, and I'll wring its neck.
JULIA. Yes, but don't hurt it. Don't--no, I cannot!
JEAN. Let me--I can!
JULIA. [Takes the bird out of the cage and kisses it] Oh, my little
birdie, must it die and go away from its mistress!
JEAN. Don't make a scene, please. Don't you know it's a question of
your life, of your future? Come, quick! [Snatches the bird away
from her, carries it to the chopping block and picks up an axe.
MISS JULIA turns away.]
JEAN. You should have learned how to kill chickens instead of
shooting with a revolver--[brings down the axe]--then you wouldn't
have fainted for a drop of blood.
JULIA. [Screaming] Kill me too! Kill me! You who can take the life
of an innocent creature without turning a hair! Oh, I hate and
despise you! There is blood between us! Cursed be the hour when I
first met you! Cursed be the hour when I came to life in my
mother's womb!
JEAN. Well, what's the use of all that cursing? Come on!
JULIA. [Approaching the chopping-block as if drawn to it against
her will] No, I don't want to go yet. I cannot---I must see--Hush!
There's a carriage coming up the road. [Listening without taking
her eyes of the block and the axe] You think I cannot stand the
sight of blood. You think I am as weak as that--oh, I should like
to see your blood, your brains, on that block there. I should like
to see your whole sex swimming in blood like that thing there. I
think I could drink out of your skull, and bathe my feet in your
open breast, and eat your heart from the spit!--You think I am
weak; you think I love you because the fruit of my womb was
yearning for your seed; you think I want to carry your offspring
under my heart and nourish it with my blood--bear your children and
take your name! Tell me, you, what are you called anyhow? I have
never heard your family name---and maybe you haven't any. I should
become Mrs. "Hovel," or Mrs. "Backyard"--you dog there, that's
wearing my collar; you lackey with my coat of arms on your buttons--
and I should share with my cook, and be the rival of my own
servant. Oh! Oh! Oh!--You think I am a coward and want to run away!
No, now I'll stay--and let the lightning strike! My father will
come home--will find his chiffonier opened--the money gone! Then
he'll ring--twice for the valet--and then he'll send for the
sheriff--and then I shall tell everything! Everything! Oh, but it
will be good to get an end to it--if it only be the end! And then
his heart will break, and he dies!--So there will be an end to all
of us--and all will be quiet--peace--eternal rest!--And then the
coat of arms will be shattered on the coffin--and the count's line
will be wiped out--but the lackey's line goes on in the orphan
asylum--wins laurels in the gutter, and ends in jail.
JEAN. There spoke the royal blood! Bravo, Miss Julia! Now you put
the miller back in his sack!
[CHRISTINE enters dressed for church and carrying n hymn-book in
her hand.]
JULIA. [Hurries up to her and throws herself into her arms ax if
seeking protection] Help me, Christine! Help me against this man!
CHRISTINE. [Unmoved and cold] What kind of performance is this on
the Sabbath morning? [Catches sight of the chopping-block] My, what
a mess you have made!--What's the meaning of all this? And the way
you shout and carry on!
JULIA. You are a woman, Christine, and you are my friend. Beware of
that scoundrel!
JEAN. [A little shy and embarrassed] While the ladies are
discussing I'll get myself a shave. [Slinks out to the right.]
JULIA. You must understand me, and you must listen to me.
CHRISTINE. No, really, I don't understand this kind of trolloping.
Where are you going in your travelling-dress--and he with his hat
on--what?--What?
JULIA. Listen, Christine, listen, and I'll tell you everything--
CHRISTINE. I don't want to know anything--
JULIA. You must listen to me--
CHRISTINE. What is it about? Is it about this nonsense with Jean?
Well, I don't care about it at all, for it's none of my business.
But if you're planning to get him away with you, we'll put a stop
to that!
JULIA. [Extremely nervous] Please try to be quiet, Christine, and
listen to me. I cannot stay here, and Jean cannot stay here--and so
we must leave---
CHRISTINE. Hm, hm!
JULIA. [Brightening. up] But now I have got an idea, you know.
Suppose all three of us should leave--go abroad--go to Switzerland
and start a hotel together--I have money, you know--and Jean and I
could run the whole thing--and you, I thought, could take charge of
the kitchen--Wouldn't that be fine!--Say yes, now! And come along
with us! Then everything is fixed!--Oh, say yes!
[She puts her arms around CHRISTINE and pats her.]
CHRISTINE. [Coldly and thoughtfully] Hm, hm!
JULIA. [Presto tempo] You have never travelled, Christine--you must
get out and have a look at the world. You cannot imagine what fun
it is to travel on a train--constantly new people--new countries---
and then we get to Hamburg and take in the Zoological Gardens in
passing--that's what you like--and then we go to the theatres and
to the opera--and when we get to Munich, there, you know, we have a
lot of museums, where they keep Rubens and Raphael and all those
big painters, you know--Haven't you heard of Munich, where King
Louis used to live--the king, you know, that went mad--And then
we'll have a look at his castle--he has still some castles that are
furnished just as in a fairy tale--and from there it isn't very far
to Switzerland--and the Alps, you know--just think of the Alps,
with snow on top of them in the middle of the summer--and there you
have orange trees and laurels that are green all the year around--
[JEAN is seen in the right wing, sharpening his razor on a strop
which he holds between his teeth and his left hand; he listens to
the talk with a pleased mien and nods approval now and then.]
JULIA. [Tempo prestissimo] And then we get a hotel--and I sit in
the office, while Jean is outside receiving tourists--and goes out
marketing--and writes letters--That's a life for you--Then the
train whistles, and the 'bus drives up, and it rings upstairs, and
it rings in the restaurant--and then I make out the bills--and I am
going to salt them, too--You can never imagine how timid tourists
are when they come to pay their bills! And you--you will sit like a
queen in the kitchen. Of course, you are not going to stand at the
stove yourself. And you'll have to dress neatly and nicely in order
to show yourself to people--and with your looks--yes, I am not
flattering you--you'll catch a husband some fine day--some rich
Englishman, you know---for those fellows are so easy [slowing down]
to catch--and then we grow rich--and we build us a villa at Lake
Como--of course, it is raining a little in that place now and then---
but [limply] the sun must be shining sometimes--although it looks
dark--and--then--or else we can go home again--and come back--here---
or some other place--
CHRISTINE. Tell me, Miss Julia, do you believe in all that
yourself?
JULIA. [Crushed] Do I believe in it myself?
CHRISTINE. Yes.
JULIA. [Exhausted] I don't know: I believe no longer in anything.
[She sinks down on the bench and drops her head between her arms on
the table] Nothing! Nothing at all!
CHRISTINE. [Turns to the right, where JEAN is standing] So you were
going to run away!
JEAN. [Abashed, puts the razor on the table] Run away? Well, that's
putting it rather strong. You have heard what the young lady
proposes, and though she is tired out now by being up all night,
it's a proposition that can be put through all right.
CHRISTINE. Now you tell me: did you mean me to act as cook for that
one there--?
JEAN. [Sharply] Will you please use decent language in speaking to
your mistress! Do you understand?
CHRISTINE. Mistress!
JEAN. Yes!
CHRISTINE. Well, well! Listen to him!
JEAN. Yes, it would be better for you to listen a little more and
talk a little less. Miss Julia is your mistress, and what makes you
disrespectful to her now should snake you feel the same way about
yourself.
CHRISTINE. Oh, I have always had enough respect for myself--
JEAN. To have none for others!
CHRISTINE. --not to go below my own station. You can't say that the
count's cook has had anything to do with the groom or the
swineherd. You can't say anything of the kind!
JEAN. Yes, it's your luck that you have had to do with a gentleman.
CHRISTINE. Yes, a gentleman who sells the oats out of the count's
stable!
JEAN. What's that to you who get a commission on the groceries and
bribes from the butcher?
CHRISTINE. What's that?
JEAN. And so you can't respect your master and mistress any longer!
You--you!
CHRISTINE. Are you coming with me to church? I think you need a
good sermon on top of such a deed.
JEAN. No, I am not going to church to-day. You can go by yourself
and confess your own deeds.
CHRISTINE. Yes, I'll do that, and I'll bring back enough
forgiveness to cover you also. The Saviour suffered and died on the
cross for all our sins, and if we go to him with a believing heart
and a repentant mind, he'll take all our guilt on himself.
JULIA. Do you believe that, Christine?
CHRISTINE. It is my living belief, as sure as I stand here, and the
faith of my childhood which I have kept since I was young, Miss
Julia. And where sin abounds, grace abounds too.
JULIA. Oh, if I had your faith! Oh, if---
CHRISTINE. Yes, but you don't get it without the special grace of
God, and that is not bestowed on everybody--
JULIA. On whom is it bestowed then?
CHRISTINE. That's just the great secret of the work of grace, Miss
Julia, and the Lord has no regard for persons, but there those that
are last shall be the foremost--
JULIA. Yes, but that means he has regard for those that are last.
CHRISTINE. [Going right on] --and it is easier for a camel to go
through a needle's eye than for a rich man to get into heaven.
That's the way it is, Miss Julia. Now I am going, however---alone---
and as I pass by, I'll tell the stableman not to let out the horses
if anybody should like to get away before the count comes home.
Good-bye! [Goes out.]
JEAN. Well, ain't she a devil!--And all this for the sake of a
finch!
JULIA. [Apathetically] Never mind the finch!--Can you see any way
out of this, any way to end it?
JEAN. [Ponders] No!
JULIA. What would you do in my place?
JEAN. In your place? Let me see. As one of gentle birth, as a
woman, as one who has--fallen. I don't know--yes, I do know!
JULIA. [Picking up the razor with a significant gesture] Like this?
JEAN. Yes!--But please observe that I myself wouldn't do it, for
there is a difference between us.
JULIA. Because you are a man and I a woman? What is the difference?
JEAN. It is the same--as--that between man and woman.
JULIA. [With the razor in her hand] I want to, but I cannot!--My
father couldn't either, that time he should have done it.
JEAN. No, he should not have done it, for he had to get his revenge
first.
JULIA. And now it is my mother's turn to revenge herself again,
through me.
JEAN. Have you not loved your father, Miss Julia?
JULIA. Yes, immensely, but I must have hated him, too. I think I
must have been doing so without being aware of it. But he was the
one who reared me in contempt for my own sex--half woman and half
man! Whose fault is it, this that has happened? My father's--my
mother's--my own? My own? Why, I have nothing that is my own. I
haven't a thought that didn't come from my father; not a passion
that didn't come from my mother; and now this last--this about all
human creatures being equal--I got that from him, my fiance--whom I
call a scoundrel for that reason! How can it be my own fault? To
put the blame on Jesus, as Christine does--no, I am too proud for
that, and know too much--thanks to my father's teachings--And that
about a rich person not getting into heaven, it's just a lie, and
Christine, who has money in the savings-bank, wouldn't get in
anyhow. Whose is the fault?--What does it matter whose it is? For
just the same I am the one who must bear the guilt and the results--
JEAN. Yes, but--
[Two sharp strokes are rung on the bell. MISS JULIA leaps to her
feet. JEAN changes his coat.]
JEAN. The count is back. Think if Christine-- [Goes to the
speaking-tube, knocks on it, and listens.]
JULIA. Now he has been to the chiffonier!
JEAN. It is Jean, your lordship! [Listening again, the spectators
being unable to hear what the count says] Yes, your lordship!
[Listening] Yes, your lordship! At once! [Listening] In a minute,
your lordship! [Listening] Yes, yes! In half an hour!
JULIA. [With intense concern] What did he say? Lord Jesus, what did
he say?
JEAN. He called for his boots and wanted his coffee in half an
hour.
JULIA. In half an hour then! Oh, I am so tired. I can't do
anything; can't repent, can't run away, can't stay, can't live---
can't die! Help me now! Command me, and I'll obey you like a dog!
Do me this last favour--save my honour, and save his name! You know
what my will ought to do, and what it cannot do--now give me your
will, and make me do it!
JEAN. I don't know why--but now I can't either--I don't understand---
It is just as if this coat here made a--I cannot command you--and
now, since I've heard the count's voice--now--I can't quite explain
it---but--Oh, that damned menial is back in my spine again. I
believe if the count should come down here, and if he should tell
me to cut my own throat--I'd do it on the spot!
JULIA. Make believe that you are he, and that I am you! You did
some fine acting when you were on your knees before me--then you
were the nobleman--or--have you ever been to a show and seen one
who could hypnotize people?
[JEAN makes a sign of assent.]
JULIA. He says to his subject: get the broom. And the man gets it.
He says: sweep. And the man sweeps.
JEAN. But then the other person must be asleep.
JULIA. [Ecstatically] I am asleep already--there is nothing in the
whole room but a lot of smoke--and you look like a stove--that
looks like a man in black clothes and a high hat--and your eyes
glow like coals when the fire is going out--and your face is a lump
of white ashes. [The sunlight has reached the floor and is now
falling on JEAN] How warm and nice it is! [She rubs her hands as if
warming them before a fire.] And so light--and so peaceful!
JEAN. [Takes the razor and puts it in her hand] There's the broom!
Go now, while it is light--to the barn--and-- [Whispers something
in her ear.]
JULIA. [Awake] Thank you! Now I shall have rest! But tell me first---
that the foremost also receive the gift of grace. Say it, even if
you don't believe it.
JEAN. The foremost? No, I can't do that!--But wait--Miss Julia--I
know! You are no longer among the foremost--now when you are among
the--last!
JULIA. That's right. I am among the last of all: I am the very
last. Oh!--But now I cannot go--Tell me once more that I must go!
JEAN. No, now I can't do it either. I cannot!
JULIA. And those that are foremost shall be the last.
JEAN. Don't think, don't think! Why, you are taking away my
strength, too, so that I become a coward--What? I thought I saw the
bell moving!--To be that scared of a bell! Yes, but it isn't only
the bell--there is somebody behind it--a hand that makes it move---
and something else that makes the hand move-but if you cover up
your ears--just cover up your ears! Then it rings worse than ever!
Rings and rings, until you answer it--and then it's too late--then
comes the sheriff--and then--
[Two quick rings from the bell.]
JEAN. [Shrinks together; then he straightens himself up] It's
horrid! But there's no other end to it!--Go!
[JULIA goes firmly out through the door.]
(Curtain.)