[Same Scene. Another lamp on the table. The private door is barricaded
with a chair.]
LAURA [to Nurse]. Did he give you the keys?
NURSE. Give them to me, no! God help me, but I took them from the
master's clothes that Nöjd had out to brush.
LAURA. Oh, Nöjd is on duty today?
NURSE. Yes, Nöjd.
LAURA. Give me the keys.
NURSE. Yes, but this seems like downright stealing. Do you hear him
walking up there, Ma'am? Back and forth, back and forth.
LAURA. Is the door well barred?
NURSE. Oh, yes, it's barred well enough!
LAURA. Control your feelings, Margret. We must be calm if we are to be
saved. [Knock.] Who is it?
NURSE [Opens door to hall]. It is Nöjd.
LAURA. Let him come in.
NÖJD [Comes in]. A message from the Colonel.
LAURA. Give it to me [Reads] Ah!--Nöjd, have you taken all the
cartridges out of the guns and pouches?
NÖJD. Yes, Ma'am.
LAURA. Good, wait outside while I answer the Colonel's letter. [Nöjd
goes. Laura writes.]
NURSE. Listen. What in the world is he doing up there now?
LAURA. Be quiet while I write.
[The sound of sawing is heard.]
NURSE [Half to herself]. Oh, God have mercy on us all! Where will this
end!
LAURA. Here, give this to Nöjd. And my mother must not know anything
about all this. Do you hear?
[Nurse goes out, Laura opens drawers in desk and takes out papers. The
Pastor comes in, he takes a chair and sits near Laura by the desk.]
PASTOR. Good evening, sister. I have been away all day, as you know, and
only just got back. Terrible things have been happening here.
LAURA. Yes, brother, never have I gone through such a night and such a
day.
PASTOR. I see that you are none the worse for it all.
LAURA. No, God be praised, but think what might have happened!
PASTOR. Tell me one thing, how did it begin? I have heard so many
different versions.
LAURA. It began with his wild idea of not being Bertha's father, and
ended with his throwing the lighted lamp in my face.
PASTOR. But this is dreadful! It is fully developed insanity. And what
is to be done now?
LAURA. We must try to prevent further violence and the doctor has sent
to the hospital for a straightjacket. In the meantime I have sent
a message to the Colonel, and I am now trying to straighten out
the affairs of the household, which he has carried on in a most
reprehensible manner.
PASTOR. This is a deplorable story, but I have always expected something
of the sort. Fire and powder must end in an explosion. What have you got
in the drawer there?
LAURA [Has pulled out a drawer in the desk]. Look, he has hidden
everything here.
PASTOR [Looking into drawer]. Good Heavens, here is your doll and here
is your christening cap and Bertha's rattle; and your letters; and the
locket. [Wipes his eyes.] After all he must have loved you very dearly,
Laura. I never kept such things!
LAURA. I believe he used to love me, but time--time changes so many
things.
PASTOR. What is that big paper? The receipt for a grave! Yes, better the
grave than the lunatic asylum! Laura, tell me, are you blameless in all
this?
LAURA. I? Why should I be to blame because a man goes out of his mind?
PASTOR. Well, well, I shan't say anything. After all, blood is thicker
than water.
LAURA. What do you dare to intimate?
PASTOR [Looking at her penetratingly]. Now, listen!
LAURA. Yes?
PASTOR. You can hardly deny that it suits you pretty well to be able to
educate your child as you wish?
LAURA. I don't understand.
PASTOR. How I admire you!
LAURA. Me? H'm!
PASTOR. And I am to become the guardian of that free-thinker! Do you
know I have always looked on him as a weed in our garden.
[Laura gives a short laugh, and then becomes suddenly serious.]
LAURA. And you dare say that to me--his wife?
PASTOR. You are strong, Laura, incredibly strong. You are like a fox
in a trap, you would rather gnaw off your own leg than let yourself
be caught! Like a master thief--no accomplice, not even your own
conscience. Look at yourself in the glass! You dare not!
LAURA. I never use a looking glass!
PASTOR. No, you dare not! Let me look at your hand. Not a tell-tale
blood stain, not a trace of insidious poison! A little innocent murder
that the law cannot reach, an unconscious crime--unconscious! What a
splendid idea! Do you hear how he is working up there? Take care! If
that man gets loose he will make short work of you.
LAURA. You talk so much, you must have a bad conscience. Accuse me if
you can!
PASTOR. I cannot.
LAURA. You see! You cannot, and therefore I am innocent. You take care
of your ward, and I will take care of mine! Here's the doctor.
[Doctor comes in.]
LAURA [Rising]. Good evening, Doctor. You at least will help me, won't
you? But unfortunately there is not much that can be done. Do you hear
how he is carrying on up there? Are you convinced now?
DOCTOR. I am convinced that an act of violence has been committed, but
the question now is whether that act of violence can be considered an
outbreak of passion or madness.
PASTOR. But apart from the actual outbreak, you must acknowledge that he
has "fixed ideas."
DOCTOR. I think that your ideas, Pastor, are much more fixed.
PASTOR. My settled views about the highest things are--
DOCTOR. We'll leave settled views out of this. Madam, it rests with you
to decide whether your husband is guilty to the extent of imprisonment
and fine or should be put in an asylum! How do you class his behavior?
LAURA. I cannot answer that now.
DOCTOR. That is to say you have no decided opinion as to what will
be most advantageous to the interests of the family? What do you say,
Pastor?
PASTOR. Well, there will be a scandal in either case. It is not easy to
say.
LAURA. But if he is only sentenced to a fine for violence, he will be
able to repeat the violence.
DOCTOR. And if he is sent to prison he will soon be out again. Therefore
we consider it most advantageous for all parties that he should be
immediately treated as insane. Where is the nurse?
LAURA. Why?
DOCTOR. She must put the straightjacket on the patient when I have
talked to him and given the order! But not before. I have--the--garment
out here. [Goes out into the hall rind returns with a large bundle.]
Please ask the nurse to come in here.
[Laura rings.]
PASTOR. Dreadful! Dreadful!
[Nurse comes in.]
DOCTOR [Takes out the straightjacket]. I want you to pay attention to
this. We want you to slip this jacket on the Captain, from behind, you
understand, when I find it necessary to prevent another outbreak of
violence. You notice it has very long sleeves to prevent his moving and
they are to be tied at the back. Here are two straps that go through
buckles which are afterwards fastened to the arm of a chair or the sofa
or whatever is convenient. Will you do it?
NURSE. No, Doctor, I can't do that; I can't.
LAURA. Why don't you do it yourself, Doctor?
DOCTOR. Because the patient distrusts me. You, Madam, would seem to be
the one to do it, but I fear he distrusts even you.
[Laura's face changes for an instant.]
DOCTOR. Perhaps you, Pastor--
PASTOR. No, I must ask to be excused.
[Nöjd comes in.]
LAURA. Have you delivered the message already?
NÖJD. Yes, Madam.
DOCTOR. Oh, is it you, Nöjd? You know the circumstances here; you know
that the Captain is out of his mind and you must help us to take care of
him.
NÖJD. If there is anything I can do for the Captain, you may be sure I
will do it.
DOCTOR. You must put this jacket on him--
NURSE. No, he shan't touch him. Nöjd might hurt him. I would rather do
it myself, very, very gently. But Nöjd can wait outside and help me if
necessary. He can do that.
[There is loud knocking on the private door.]
DOCTOR. There he is! Put the jacket under your shawl on the chair, and
you must all go out for the time being and the Pastor and I will receive
him, for that door will not hold out many minutes. Now go.
NURSE [Going out left.] The Lord help us!
[Laura locks desk, then goes out left. Nöjd goes out back. After a
moment the private door is forced open, with such violence that the
lock is broken and the chair is thrown into the middle of the room. The
Captain comes in with a pile of books under his arm, which he puts on
the table.]
CAPTAIN. The whole thing is to be read here, in every book. So I wasn't
out of my mind after all! Here it is in the Odyssey, book first, verse
215, page 6 of the Upsala translation. It is Telemachus speaking to
Athene. "My mother indeed maintains that he, Odysseus, is my father,
but I myself know it not, for no man yet hath known his own origin."
And this suspicion is harbored by Telemachus about Penelope, the most
virtuous of women! Beautiful, eh? And here we have the prophet Ezekiel:
"The fool saith; behold here is my father, but who can tell whose loins
engendered him." That's quite clear! And what have we here? The History
of Russian Literature by Mersläkow. Alexander Puschkin, Russia's
greatest poet, died of torture front the reports circulated about his
wife's unfaithfulness rather than by the bullet in his breast, from a
duel. On his death-bed he swore she was innocent. Ass, ass! How could he
swear to it? You see, I read my books. Ah, Jonas, art you here? and the
doctor, naturally. Have you heard what I answered when an English lady
complained about Irishmen who used to throw lighted lamps in their
wives' faces? "God, what women," I cried. "Women," she gasped. "Yes, of
course," I answered. "When things go so far that a man, a man who loved
and worshipped a woman, takes a lighted lamp and throws it in her face,
then one may know."
PASTOR. Know what?
CAPTAIN. Nothing. One never knows anything. One only believes. Isn't
that true, Jonas? One believes and then one is saved! Yes, to be sure.
No, I know that one can be damned by his faith. I know that.
DOCTOR. Captain!
CAPTAIN. Silence! I don't want to talk to you; I won't listen to you
repeating their chatter in there, like a telephone! In there! You
know! Look here, Jonas; do you believe that you are the father of
your children? I remember that you had a tutor in your house who had a
handsome face, and the people gossiped about him.
PASTOR. Adolf, take care!
CAPTAIN. Grope under your toupee and feel if there are not two bumps
there. By my soul, I believe he turns pale! Yes, yes, they will talk;
but, good Lord, they talk so much. Still we are a lot of ridiculous
dupes, we married men. Isn't that true, Doctor? How was it with your
marriage bed? Didn't you have a lieutenant in the house, eh? Wait a
moment and I will make a guess--his name was--[whispers in the Doctor's
ear]. You see he turns pale, too! Don't be disturbed. She is dead and
buried and what is done can't be undone. I knew him well, by the way,
and he is now--look at me, Doctor--No, straight in my eyes--a major in
the cavalry! By God, if I don't believe he has horns, too.
DOCTOR [Tortured]. Captain, won't you talk about something else?
CAPTAIN. Do you see? He immediately wants to talk of something else when
I mention horns.
PASTOR. Do you know, Adolf, that you are insane?
CAPTAIN. Yes; I know that well enough. But if I only had the handling of
your illustrious brains for awhile I'd soon have you shut up, too! I am
mad, but how did I become so? That doesn't concern you, and it doesn't
concern anyone. But you want to talk of something else now. [Takes the
photograph album from the table.] Good Lord, that is my child! Mine?
We can never know. Do you know what we would have to do to make sure?
First, one should marry to get the respect of society, then be divorced
soon after and become lovers, and finally adopt the children. Then one
would at least be sure that they were one's adopted children. Isn't that
right? But how can all that help us now? What can keep me now that you
have taken my conception of immortality from me, what use is science
and philosophy to me when I have nothing to live for, what can I do with
life when I am dishonored? I grafted my right arm, half my brain, half
my marrow on another trunk, for I believed they would knit themselves
together and grow into a more perfect tree, and then someone came with
a knife and cut below the graft, and now I am only half a tree. But the
other half goes on growing with my arm and half my brain, while I wither
and die, for they were the best parts I gave away. Now I want to die. Do
with me as you will. I am no more.
[Buries his head on his arms on table. The Doctor whispers to the
Pastor, and they go out through the door left. Soon after Bertha comes
in.]
BERTRA [Goes up to Captain]. Are you ill, Father?
CAPTAIN [Looks up dazed]. I?
BERTHA. Do you know what you have done? Do you know that you threw the
lamp at Mother?
CAPTAIN. Did I?
BERTHA. Yes, you did. Just think if she had been hurt.
CAPTAIN. What would that have mattered?
BERTHA. You are not my father when you talk like that.
CAPTAIN. What do you say? Am I not your father? How do you know that?
Who told you that? And who is your father, then? Who?
BERTHA. Not you at any rate.
CAPTAIN. Still not I? Who, then? Who? You seem to be well informed. Who
told you? That I should live to see my child come and tell me to my
face that I am not her father! But don't you know that you disgrace your
mother when you say that? Don't you know that it is to her shame if it
is so?
BERTHA. Don't say anything bad about Mother; do you hear?
CAPTAIN. No; you hold together, every one of you, against me! and you
have always done so.
BERTHA. Father!
CAPTAIN. Don't use that word again!
BERTHA. Father, father!
CAPTAIN [Draws her to him]. Bertha, dear, dear child, you are my child!
Yes, Yes; it cannot be otherwise. It is so. The other was only sickly
thoughts that come with the wind like pestilence and fever. Look at me
that I may see my soul in your eyes!--But I see her soul, too! You have
two souls and you love me with one and hate me with the other. But you
must only love me! You must have only one soul, or you will never have
peace, nor I either. You must have only one mind, which is the child of
my mind and one will, which is my will.
BERTHA. But I don't want to, I want to be myself.
CAPTAIN. You must not. You see, I am a cannibal, and I want to eat you.
Your mother wanted to eat me, but she was not allowed to. I am Saturn
who ate his children because it had been prophesied that they would eat
him. To eat or be eaten! That is the question. If I do not eat you,
you will eat me, and you have already shown your teeth! But don't be
frightened my dear child; I won't harm you. [Goes and takes a revolver
from the wall.]
BERTHA [Trying to escape]. Help, Mother, help, he wants to kill me.
NURSE [Comes in]. Mr. Adolf, what is it?
CAPTAIN [Examining revolver]. Have you taken out the cartridges?
NURSE. Yes, I put them away when I was tidying up, but sit down and be
quiet and I'll get them out again!
[She takes the Captain by the arm and gets him into a chair, into which
he sinks feebly. Then she takes out the straitjacket and goes behind the
chair. Bertha slips out left.]
NURSE. Mr. Adolf, do you remember when you were my dear little boy and
I tucked you in at night and used to repeat: "God who holds his children
dear" to you, and do you remember how I used to get up in the night and
give you a drink, how I would light the candle and tell you stories when
you had bad dreams and couldn't sleep? Do you remember all that?
CAPTAIN. Go on talking, Margret, it soothes my head so. Tell me some
more.
NURSE. O yes, but you must listen then! Do you remember when you took
the big kitchen knife and wanted to cut out boats with it, and how I
came in and had to get the knife away by fooling you? You were just a
little child who didn't understand, so I had to fool you, for you didn't
know that it was for your own good. "Give me that snake," I said, "or
it will bite you!" and then you let go of the knife. [Takes the revolver
out of the Captain's hand.] And then when you had to be dressed and
didn't want to, I had to coax you and say that you should have a coat
of gold and be dressed like a prince. And then I took your little blouse
that was just made of green wool and held it in front of you and said:
"In with both arms," and then I said, "Now sit nice and still while I
button it down the back," [She puts the straightjacket on] and then I
said, "Get up now, and walk across the floor like a good boy so I can
see how it fits." [She leads him to the sofa.] And then I said, "Now you
must go to bed."
CAPTAIN. What did you say? Was I to go to bed when I was
dressed--damnation! what have you done to me? [Tries to get free.] Ah!
you cunning devil of a woman! Who would have thought you had so much
wit. [Lies down on sofa.] Trapped, shorn, outwitted, and not to be able
to die!
NURSE. Forgive me, Mr. Adolf, forgive me, but I wanted to keep you from
killing your child.
CAPTAIN. Why didn't you let me? You say life is hell and death the
kingdom of heaven, and children belong to heaven.
NURSE. How do you know what comes after death?
CAPTAIN. That is the only thing we do know, but of life we know nothing!
Oh, if one had only known from the beginning.
NURSE. Mr. Adolf, humble your hard heart and cry to God for mercy; it is
not yet too late. It was not too late for the thief on the cross, when
the Saviour said, "Today shalt thou be with me in Paradise."
CAPTAIN. Are you croaking for a corpse already, you old crow?
[Nurse takes a hymnbook out of her pocket.]
CAPTAIN [Calls]. Nöjd, is Nöjd out there?
[Nöjd comes in.]
CAPTAIN. Throw this woman out! She wants to suffocate me with her
hymn-book. Throw her out of the window, or up the chimney, or anywhere.
NÖJD. [Looks at Nurse]. Heaven help you, Captain, but I can't do that, I
can't. If it were only six men, but a woman!
CAPTAIN. Can't you manage one woman, eh?
NÖJD. Of course I can,--but--well, you see, it's queer, but one never
wants to lay hands on a woman.
CAPTAIN. Why not? Haven't they laid hands on me?
NÖJD. Yes, but I can't, Captain. It's just as if you asked me to strike
the Pastor. It's second nature, like religion, I can't!
[Laura comes in, she motions Nöjd to go.]
CAPTAIN. Omphale, Omphale! Now you play with the club while Hercules
spins your wool.
LAURA [Goes to sofa]. Adolf, look at me. Do you believe that I am your
enemy?
CAPTAIN. Yes, I do. I believe that you are all my enemies! My mother was
my enemy when she did not want to bring me into the world because I
was to be born with pain, and she robbed my embryonic life of its
nourishment, and made a weakling of me. My sister was my enemy when she
taught me that I must be submissive to her. The first woman I embraced
was my enemy, for she gave me ten years of illness in return for the
love I gave her. My daughter became my enemy when she had to choose
between me and you. And you, my wife, you have been my arch enemy,
because you never let up on me till I lay here lifeless.
LAURA. I don't know that. I ever thought or even intended what you think
I did. It may be that a dim desire to get rid of you as an obstacle lay
at the bottom of it, and if you see any design in my behavior, it is
possible that it existed, although I was unconscious of it. I have never
thought how it all came about, but it is the result of the course you
yourself laid out, and before God and my conscience I feel that I am
innocent, even if I am not. Your existence has lain like a stone on my
heart--lain so heavily that I tried to shake off the oppressive burden.
This is the truth, and if I have unconsciously struck you down, I ask
your forgiveness.
CAPTAIN. All that sounds plausible. But how does it help me? And whose
fault is it? Perhaps spiritual marriages! Formerly one married a wife,
now, one enters into partnership with a business woman, or goes to
live with a friend--and then one ruins the partner, and dishonors the
friend!--What has become of love, healthy sensuous love? It died in the
transformation. And what is the result of this love in shares, payable
to the bearer without joint liability? Who is the bearer when the crash
comes? Who is the fleshly father of the spiritual child?
LAURA. And as for your suspicions about the child, they are absolutely
groundless.
CAPTAIN. That's just what makes it so horrible. If at least there were
any grounds for them, it would be something to get hold of, to cling to.
Now there are only shadows that hide themselves in the bushes, and stick
out their heads and grin; it is like fighting with the air, or firing
blank cartridges in a sham fight. A fatal reality would have called
forth resistance, stirred life and soul to action; but now my thoughts
dissolve into air, and my brain grinds a void until it is on fire.--Put
a pillow under my head, and throw something over me, I am cold. I am
terribly cold!
[Laura takes her shawl and spreads it over him. Nurse goes to get a
pillow.]
LAURA. Give me your hand, friend.
CAPTAIN. My band! The hand that you have bound! Omphale! Omphale!--But
I feel your shawl against my mouth; it is as warm and soft as your arm,
and it smells of vanilla, like your hair when you were young! Laura,
when you were young, and we walked in the birch woods, with the
primroses and the thrushes--glorious, glorious! Think how beautiful life
was, and what it is now. You didn't want to have it like this, nor did
I, and yet it happened. Who then rules over life?
LAURA. God alone rules--
CAPTAIN. The God of strife then! Or the Goddess perhaps, nowadays.--Take
away the cat that is lying on me! Take it away!
[Nurse brings in a pillow and takes the shawl away.]
CAPTAIN. Give me my army coat!--Throw it over me! [Nurse gets the coat
and puts it over him.] Ah, my rough lion skin that, you wanted to take
away from me! Omphale! Omphale! You cunning woman, champion of peace and
contriver of man's disarmament. Wake, Hercules, before they take your
club away from you! You would wile our armor from us too, and make
believe that it is nothing but glittering finery. No, it was iron, let
me tell you, before it ever glittered. In olden days the smith made the
armor, now it is the needle woman. Omphale! Omphale! Rude strength
has fallen before treacherous weakness. Out on you infernal woman, and
damnation on your sex! [He raises himself to spit but falls back on the
sofa.] What have you given me for a pillow, Margret? It is so hard, and
so cold, so cold. Come and sit near me. There. May I put my head on your
knee? So!--This is warm! Bend over me so that I can feel your breast!
Oh, it is sweet to sleep against a woman's breast, a mother's, or a
mistress's, but the mother's is sweetest.
LAURA. Would you like to see your child, Adolf?
CAPTAIN. My child? A man has no children, it is only woman who has
children, and therefore the future is hers when we die childless. Oh,
God, who holds his children dear!
NURSE. Listen, he is praying to God.
CAPTAIN. No, to you to put me to sleep, for I am tired, so tired. Good
night, Margret, and blessed be you among women.
[He raises himself, but falls with a cry on the nurses's lap. Laura goes
to left and calls the Doctor who comes in with the Pastor.]
LAURA. Help us, Doctor, if it isn't too late. Look, he has stopped
breathing.
DOCTOR [Feels the Captain's pulse.] It is a stroke.
PASTOR. Is he dead?
DOCTOR. No, he may yet cone back to life, but to what an awakening we
cannot tell.
PASTOR. "First death, and then the judgment."
DOCTOR. No judgment, and no accusations, you who believe that a God
shapes man's destiny must go to him about this.
NURSE. Ah, Pastor, with his last breath he prayed to God.
PASTOR [To Laura]. Is that true?
LAURA. It is.
DOCTOR. In that case, which I can understand as little as the cause of
his illness, my skill is at an end. You try yours now, Pastor.
LAURA. Is that all you have to say at this death-bed, Doctor?
DOCTOR. That is all! I know no more. Let him speak who knows more.
[Bertha comes in from left and runs to her mother.]
BERTHA. Mother, Mother!
LAURA. My child, my own child!
PASTOR. Amen.
CURTAIN.
*****
COUNTESS JULIE
CHARACTERS
COUNTESS JULIE, twenty-five years old
JEAN, a valet, thirty
KRISTIN, a cook, thirty-five
FARM SERVANTS
The action takes place on Saint John's night, the mid-summer festival
surviving from pagan times.
[SCENE.--A large kitchen. The ceiling and walls are partially covered
by draperies and greens. The back wall slants upward from left side of
scene. On back wall, left, are two shelves filled with copper kettles,
iron casseroles and tin pans. The shelves are trimmed with fancy
scalloped paper. To right of middle a large arched entrance with glass
doors through which one sees a fountain with a statue of Cupid, syringa
bushes in bloom and tall poplars. To left corner of scene a large stove
with hood decorated with birch branches. To right, servants' dining
table of white pine and a few chairs. On the end of table stands a
Japanese jar filled with syringa blossoms. The floor is strewn with
juniper branches.]
[Near stove, an ice-box, sink and dish-table. A large old-fashioned
bell, hangs over the door, to left of door a speaking tube.]
[Kristin stands at stove engaged in cooking something. She wears a light
cotton dress and kitchen apron. Jean comes in wearing livery; he carries
a large pair of riding-boots with spurs, which he puts on floor.]
JEAN. Tonight Miss Julie is crazy again, perfectly crazy.
KRISTIN. So--you're back at last.
JEAN. I went to the station with the Count and coming back I went in to
the barn and danced and then I discovered Miss Julie there leading the
dance with the gamekeeper. When she spied me, she rushed right toward me
and asked me to waltz, and then she waltzed so--never in my life have I
seen anything like it! Ah--she is crazy tonight.
KRISTIN. She has always been. But never so much as in the last
fortnight, since her engagement was broken off.
JEAN. Yes, what about that gossip? He seemed like a fine fellow although
he wasn't rich! Ach! they have so much nonsense about them. [Seats
himself at table.] It's queer about Miss Julie though--to prefer staying
here at home among these people, eh, to going away with her father to
visit her relatives, eh?
KRISTIN. She's probably shamefaced about breaking off with her intended.
JEAN. No doubt! but he was a likely sort just the same. Do you know,
Kristin, how it happened? I saw it, although I didn't let on.
KRISTIN. No--did you see it?
JEAN. Yes, indeed, I did. They were out in the stable yard one evening
and she was "training" him as she called it. Do you know what happened?
She made him leap over her riding whip, the way you teach a dog to
jump. He jumped it twice and got a lash each time; but the third time
he snatched the whip from her hand and broke it into pieces. And then he
vanished!
KRISTIN. Was that the way it happened? No, you don't say so!
JEAN. Yes, that's the way the thing happened. But what have you got to
give me that's good, Kristin?
KRISTIN. [She takes things from the pans on stove and serves them to
him.] Oh, it's only a bit of kidney that I cut out of the veal steak for
you.
JEAN [Smelling the food]. Splendid! My favorite delicacy. [Feeling of
plate]. But you might have warmed the plate.
KRISTIN. You're fussier than the Count, when you get started. [Tweaks
his hair.]
JEAN. Don't pull my hair! You know how sensitive I am.
KRISTIN. Oh--there, there! you know I was only loving you.
[Jean eats, and Kristin opens bottle of beer.]
JEAN. Beer on midsummer night--thank you, no! I have something better
than that myself. [Takes bottle of wine from drawer of table.] Yellow
seal, how's that? Now give me a glass--a wine glass you understand, of
course, when one drinks the genuine.
KRISTIN. [Fetches a glass. Then goes to stove and puts on casserole.]
Heaven help the woman who gets you for her husband. Such a fuss budget!
JEAN. Oh, talk! You ought to be glad to get such a fine fellow as I am.
And I don't think it's done you any harm because I'm considered your
intended. [Tastes wine.] Excellent, very excellent! Just a little too
cold. [Warms glass with hands]. We bought this at Dijon. It stood at
four francs a litre in the bulk; then of course there was the duty
besides. What are you cooking now that smells so infernally?
KRISTIN. Oh, it's some devil's mess that Miss Julie must have for Diana.
JEAN. Take care of your words, Kristin. But why should you stand there
cooking for that damned dog on a holiday evening? Is it sick, eh?
KRISTIN. Yes, it's sick. Diana sneaked out with the gatekeeper's
mongrels and now something is wrong. Miss Julie can't stand that.
JEAN. Miss Julie has a great deal of pride about some things--but not
enough about others! Just like her mother in her lifetime; she
thrived best in the kitchen or the stable, but she must always drive
tandem--never one horse! She would go about with soiled cuffs but she
had to have the Count's crest on her cuff buttons. And as for Miss
Julie, she doesn't take much care of her appearance either. I should say
she isn't refined. Why just now out there she pulled the forester from
Anna's side and asked him to dance with her. We wouldn't do things that
way. But when the highborn wish to unbend they become vulgar. Splendid
she is though! Magnificent! Ah, such shoulders and--
KRISTIN. Oh, don't exaggerate. I've heard what Clara says who dresses
her sometimes, I have.
JEAN. Ha! Clara--you women are always jealous of each other. I who've
been out riding with her--!!! And such a dancer!
KRISTIN. Come now, Jean, don't you want to dance with me when I'm
through?
JEAN. Of course I want to.
KRISTIN. That is a promise?
JEAN. Promise! When I say I will do a thing I do it! Thanks for the
supper--it was excellent.
[Pushes cork in the bottle with a bang. Miss Julie appears in doorway,
speaking to someone outside.]
JULIE. I'll be back soon, but don't let things wait for me.
[Jean quickly puts bottle in table drawer and rises very respectfully.]
[Enter Miss Julie and goes to Kristin.]
JULIE. Is it done?
[Kristin indicating Jean's presence.]
JEAN [Gallantly]. Have you secrets between you?
JULIE. [Flipping handkerchief in his face]. Curious, are you?
JEAN. How sweet that violet perfume is!
JULIE [Coquettishly]. Impudence! Do you appreciate perfumes too?
Dance--that you can do splendidly. [Jean looks towards the cooking
stove]. Don't look. Away with you.
JEAN [Inquisitive but polite]. Is it some troll's dish that you are both
concocting for midsummer night? Something to pierce the future with and
evoke the face of your intended?
JULIE [Sharply]. To see him one must have sharp eyes. [To Kristin].
Put it into a bottle and cork it tight. Come now, Jean and dance a
schottische with me.
[Jean hesitates.]
JEAN. I don't wish to be impolite to anyone but--this dance I promised
to Kristin.
JULIE. Oh, she can have another--isn't that so, Kristin? Won't you lend
Jean to me.
KRISTIN. It's not for me to say, if Miss Julie is so gracious it's not
for me to say no. [To Jean]. Go you and be grateful for the honor.
JEAN. Well said--but not wishing any offense I wonder if it is prudent
for Miss Julie to dance twice in succession with her servant, especially
as people are never slow to find meaning in--
JULIE [Breaking out]. In what? What sort of meaning? What were you going
to say?
JEAN [Taken aback]. Since Miss Julie does not understand I must speak
plainly. It may look strange to prefer one of your--underlings--to
others who covet the same honor--
JULIE. To prefer--what a thought! I, the lady of the house! I honor the
people with my presence and now that I feel like dancing I want to have
a partner who knows how to lead to avoid being ridiculous.
JEAN. As Miss Julie commands. I'm here to serve.
JULIE [Mildly]. You mustn't look upon that as a command. Tonight we are
all in holiday spirits--full of gladness and rank is flung aside. So,
give me your arm! Don't be alarmed, Kristin, I shall not take your
sweetheart away from you.
[Jean offers arm. They exit.]
[PANTOMIME.--Played as though the actress were really alone. Turns
her back to the audience when necessary. Does not look out into the
auditorium. Does not hurry as though fearing the audience might grow
restless. Soft violin music from the distance, schottische time. Kristin
hums with the music. She cleans the table; washes plate, wipes it and
puts it in the china closet. Takes off her apron and then opens drawer
of table and takes a small hand glass and strands it against a flower
pot on table. Lights a candle and heats a hair pin with which she crimps
her hair around her forehead. After that she goes to door at back and
listens. Then she returns to table and sees the Countess' handkerchief,
picks it up, smells of it, then smooths it out and folds it. Enter
Jean.]
JEAN. She is crazy I tell you! To dance like that! And the people stand
grinning at her behind the doors. What do you say to that, Kristin?
KRISTIN. Oh, didn't I say she's been acting queer lately? But isn't it
my turn to dance now?
JEAN. You are not angry because I let myself be led by the forelock?
KRISTIN. No, not for such a little thing. That you know well enough. And
I know my place too--
JEAN [Puts arm around her waist]. You're a pretty smart girl, Kristin,
and you ought to make a good wife.
[Enter Miss Julie.]
JULIE [Disagreeably surprised, but with forced gaiety]. You're a
charming cavalier to run away from your partner.
JEAN. On the contrary, Miss Julie, I have hastened to my neglected one
as you see.
JULIE [Changing subject]. Do you know, you dance wonderfully well! But
why are you in livery on a holiday night? Take it off immediately.
JEAN. Will you excuse me--my coat hangs there. [Goes R. and takes coat.]
JULIE. Does it embarrass you to change your coat in my presence? Go to
your room then--or else stay and I'll turn my back.
JEAN. With your permission, Miss Julie.
[Exit Jean R. One sees his arm as he changes coat.]
JULIE [To Kristin]. Is Jean your sweetheart, that he is so devoted?
KRISTIN. Sweetheart? Yes, may it please you. Sweetheart--that's what
they call it.
JULIE. Call it?
KRISTIN. Oh Miss Julie has herself had a sweetheart and--
JULIE. Yes, we were engaged--
KRISTIN. But it came to nothing.
[Enter Jean in black frock coat.]
JULIE. Tres gentil, Monsieur Jean, tres gentil.
JEAN. Vous voulez plaisanter, Mademoiselle.
JULIE. Et vous voulez parler francais? Where did you learn that?
JEAN. In Switzerland where I was butler in the largest hotel at Lucerne.
JULIE. Why, you look like a gentleman in your frock coat. Charmant!
[Seats herself by table.]
JEAN. You flatter me!
JULIE. Flatter! [Picking him up on the word.]
JEAN. My natural modesty forbids me to believe that you could mean
these pleasant things that you say to a--such as I am--and therefore I
allowed myself to fancy that you overrate or, as it is called, flatter.
JULIE. Where did you learn to use words like that? Have you frequented
the theatres much?
JEAN. I have frequented many places, I have!
JULIE. But you were born here in this neighborhood?
JEAN. My father was a deputy under the public prosecutor, and I saw Miss
Julie as a child--although she didn't see me!
JULIE. No, really?
JEAN. Yes, I remember one time in particular. But I mustn't talk about
that.
JULIE. Oh yes, do, when was it?
JEAN. No really--not now, another time perhaps.
JULIE. "Another time" is a good for nothing. Is it so dreadful then?
JEAN. Not dreadful--but it goes against the grain. [Turns and points to
Kristin, who has fallen asleep in a chair near stove]. Look at her.
JULIE. She'll make a charming wife! Does she snore too?
JEAN. No, but she talks in her sleep.
JULIE [Cynically]. How do you know that she talks in her sleep?
JEAN [Boldly]. I have heard her.[Pause and they look at each other.]
JULIE. Why don't you sit down?
JEAN. I can't allow myself to do so in your presence.
JULIE. But if I command you?
JEAN. Then I obey.
JULIE. Sit down then. But wait--can't you get me something to drink
first?
JEAN. I don't know what there is in the icebox. Nothing but beer,
probably.
JULIE. Is beer nothing? My taste is so simple that I prefer it to wine.
[Jean takes out beer and serves it on plate.]
JEAN. Allow me.
JULIE. Won't you drink too?
JEAN. I am no friend to beer--but if Miss Julie commands.
JULIE [Gaily]. Commands! I should think as a polite cavalier you might
join your lady.
JEAN. Looking at it in that way you are quite right. [Opens another
bottle of beer and fills glass.]
JULIE. Give me a toast!
[Jean hesitates.]
JULIE [Mockingly]. Old as he is, I believe the man is bashful!
JEAN [On his knee with mock gallantry, raises glass]. A health to my
lady of the house!
JULIE. Bravo! Now you must kiss my slipper. Then the thing is perfect.
[Jean hesitates and then seizes her foot and kisses it lightly.]
JULIE. Splendid! You should have been an actor.
JEAN [Rising]. But this mustn't go any further, Miss Julie. What if
someone should come in and see us?
JULIE. What harm would that do?
JEAN. Simply that it would give them a chance to gossip. And if Miss
Julie only knew how their tongues wagged just now--then--
JULIE. What did they say? Tell me. And sit down now.
JEAN [Sitting]. I don't wish to hurt you, but they used an
expression--threw hints of a certain kind--but you are not a child,
you can understand. When one sees a lady drinking alone with a man--let
alone a servant--at night--then--
JULIE. Then what? And for that matter, we are not alone. Kristin is
here.
JEAN. Sleeping! Yes.
JULIE. Then I shall wake her. [Rises]. Kristin, are you asleep?
KRISTIN. [In her sleep]. Bla--bla--bla--bla.
JULIE. Kristin! She certainly can sleep. [Goes to Kristin.]
KRISTIN. [In her sleep]. The Count's boots are polished--put on the
coffee--soon--soon--soon. Oh--h-h-h--puh! [Breathes heavily. Julie takes
her by the nose.]
JULIE. Won't you wake up?
JEAN [Sternly]. Don't disturb the sleeping.
JULIE [Sharply]. What?
JEAN. Anyone who has stood over the hot stove all day long is tired when
night comes. One should respect the weary.
JULIE. That's a kind thought--and I honor it. [Offers her hand.] Thanks
for the suggestion. Come out with me now and pick some syringas.
[Kristin has awakened and goes to her room, right, in a sort of sleep
stupified way.]
JEAN. With Miss Julie?
JULIE. With me.
JEAN. But that wouldn't do--decidedly not.
JULIE. I don't understand you. Is it possible that you fancy that I--
JEAN. No--not I, but people.
JULIE. What? That I'm in love with my coachman?
JEAN. I am not presumptuous, but we have seen instances--and with the
people nothing is sacred.
JULIE. I believe he is an aristocrat!
JEAN. Yes, I am.
JULIE. But I step down-- --
JEAN. Don't step down, Miss Julie. Listen to me--no one would believe
that you stepped down of your own accord; people always say that one
falls down.
JULIE. I think better of the people than you do. Come--and try
them--come!
[Dares him with a look.]
JEAN. Do you know that you are wonderful?
JULIE. Perhaps. But you are too. Everything is wonderful for that
matter. Life, people--everything. Everything is wreckage, that drifts
over the water until it sinks, sinks. I have the same dream every now
and then and at this moment I am reminded of it. I find myself seated at
the top of a high pillar and I see no possible way to get down. I grow
dizzy when I look down, but down I must. But I'm not brave enough to
throw myself; I cannot hold fast and I long to fall--but I don't fall.
And yet I can find no rest or peace until I shall come down to earth;
and if I came down to earth I would wish myself down in the ground. Have
you ever felt like that?
JEAN. No, I dream that I'm lying in a dark wood under a tall tree and I
would up--up to the top, where I can look far over the fair landscape,
where the sun is shining. I climb--climb, to plunder the birds' nests
up there where the golden eggs lie, but the tree trunk is so thick, so
smooth, and the first limb is so high! But I know if I reached the first
limb I should climb as though on a ladder, to the top. I haven't reached
it yet, but I shall reach it, if only in the dream.
JULIE. Here I stand talking about dreams with you. Come now, just out in
the park.
[She offers her arm and they start.]
JEAN. We should sleep on nine midsummer flowers tonight and then our
dreams would come true.
[She turns, Jean quickly holds a hand over his eye.]
JULIE. What is it, something in your eye?
JEAN. Oh, it is nothing--just a speck. It will be all right in a moment.
JULIE. It was some dust from my sleeve that brushed against you. Now
sit down and let me look for it. [Pulls him into a chair, looks into his
eye.] Now sit still, perfectly still. [Uses corner of her handkerchief
in his eye. Strikes his hand.] So--will you mind? I believe you are
trembling, strong man that you are. [Touching his arm.] And such arms!
JEAN [Warningly.] Miss Julie!
JULIE. Yes, Monsieur Jean!
JEAN. Attention. Je ne suis qu'un homme!
JULIE. Will you sit still! So, now it is gone! Kiss my hand and thank
me!
[Jean rises.]
JEAN. Miss Julie, listen to me. Kristin has gone to bed now--will you
listen to me--
JULIE. Kiss my hand first.
JEAN. Listen to me--
JULIE. Kiss my hand first.
JEAN. Yes, but blame yourself.
JULIE. For what?
JEAN. For what? Are you a child at twenty-five? Don't you know that it
is dangerous to play with fire?
JULIE. Not for me. I am insured!
JEAN. No, you are not. But even if you are, there is inflammable
material in the neighborhood.
JULIE. Might that be you?
JEAN. Yes, not because it is I, but because I'm a young man--
JULIE [Scornfully]. With a grand opportunity--what inconceivable
presumption! A Don Juan perhaps! Or a Joseph! On my soul, I believe he
is a Joseph!
JEAN. You do?
JULIE. Almost.
[Jean rushes towards her and tries to take her in his arms to kiss her.]
JULIE [Gives him a box on the ear]. Shame on you.
JEAN. Are you in earnest, or fooling?
JULIE. In earnest.
JEAN. Then you were in earnest a moment ago, too. You play too seriously
with what is dangerous. Now I'm tired of playing and beg to be excused
that I may go on with my work. The Count must have his boots in time,
and it is long past midnight. [Jean picks up boots.]
JULIE. Put those boots away.
JEAN. No, that is my work which it is my duty to do, but I was not hired
to be your play thing and that I shall never be. I think too well of
myself for that.
JULIE. You are proud.
JEAN. In some things--not in others.
JULIE. Were you ever in love?
JEAN. We do not use that word, but I have liked many girls. One time I
was sick because I couldn't have the one I wanted--sick, you understand,
like the princesses in the Arabian Nights who could not eat nor drink
for love sickness.
JULIE. Who was she? [Jean is silent.] Who was she?
JEAN. That you could not make me tell.
JULIE. Not if I ask you as an equal, as a--friend? Who was she?
JEAN. It was you!
[Julie seats herself.]
JULIE. How extravagant!
JEAN. Yes, if you will, it was ridiculous. That was the story I
hesitated to tell, but now I'm going to tell it. Do you know how people
in high life look from the under world? No, of course you don't. They
look like hawks and eagles whose backs one seldom sees, for they soar up
above. I lived in a hovel provided by the state, with seven brothers and
sisters and a pig; out on a barren stretch where nothing grew, not even
a tree, but from the window I could see the Count's park walls with
apple trees rising above them. That was the garden of paradise; and
there stood many angry angels with flaming swords protecting it; but
for all that I and other boys found the way to the tree of life--now you
despise me.
JULIE. Oh, all boys steal apples.
JEAN. You say that, but you despise me all the same. No matter! One time
I entered the garden of paradise--it was to weed the onion beds with my
mother! Near the orchard stood a Turkish pavilion, shaded and overgrown
with jessamine and honeysuckle. I didn't know what it was used for and
I had never seen anything so beautiful. People passed in and out and one
day--the door was left open. I sneaked in and beheld walls covered with
pictures of kings and emperors and there were red-fringed curtains at
the windows--now you understand what I mean--I--[Breaks off a spray of
syringes and puts it to her nostrils.] I had never been in the castle
and how my thoughts leaped--and there they returned ever after. Little
by little the longing came over me to experience for once the pleasure
of--enfin, I sneaked in and was bewildered. But then I heard someone
coming--there was only one exit for the great folk, but for me there was
another, and I had to choose that. [Julie who has taken the syringa
lets it fall on table.] Once out I started to run, scrambled through a
raspberry hedge, rushed over a strawberry bed and came to a stop on
the rose terrace. For there I saw a figure in a white dress and white
slippers and stockings--it was you! I hid under a heap of weeds, under,
you understand, where the thistles pricked me, and lay on the damp, rank
earth. I gazed at you walking among the roses. And I thought if it is
true that the thief on the cross could enter heaven and dwell among the
angels it was strange that a pauper child on God's earth could not go
into the castle park and play with the Countess' daughter.
JULIE [Pensively]. Do you believe that all poor children would have such
thoughts under those conditions?
JEAN [Hesitates, then in a positive voice]. That all poor children--yes,
of course, of course!
JULIE. It must be a terrible misfortune to be poor.
JEAN [With deep pain and great chagrin]. Oh, Miss Julie, a dog may lie
on the couch of a Countess, a horse may be caressed by a lady's hand,
but a servant--yes, yes, sometimes there is stuff enough in a man,
whatever he be, to swing himself up in the world, but how often does
that happen! But to return to the story, do you know what I did? I ran
down to the mill dam and threw myself in with my clothes on--and was
pulled out and got a thrashing. But the following Sunday when all the
family went to visit my grandmother I contrived to stay at home; I
scrubbed myself well, put on my best clothes, such as they were, and
went to church so that I might see you. I saw you. Then I went home
with my mind made up to put an end to myself. But I wanted to do
it beautifully and without pain. Then I happened to remember that
elderberry blossoms are poisonous. I knew where there was a big
elderberry bush in full bloom and I stripped it of its riches and made
a bed of it in the oat-bin. Have you ever noticed how smooth and glossy
oats are? As soft as a woman's arm.--Well, I got in and let down the
cover, fell asleep, and when I awoke I was very ill, but didn't die--as
you see. What I wanted--I don't know. You were unattainable, but through
the vision of you I was made to realize how hopeless it was to rise
above the conditions of my birth.
JULIE. You tell it well! Were you ever at school?
JEAN. A little, but I have read a good deal and gone to the theatres.
And besides, I have always heard the talk of fine folks and from them I
have learned most.
JULIE. Do you listen then to what we are saying?
JEAN. Yes, indeed, I do. And I have heard much when I've been on the
coachbox. One time I heard Miss Julie and a lady--
JULIE. Oh, what was it you heard?
JEAN. Hm! that's not so easy to tell. But I was astonished and could
not understand where you had heard such things. Well, perhaps at bottom
there's not so much difference between people and--people.
JULIE. Oh, shame! We don't behave as you do when we are engaged.
JEAN. [Eyeing her]. Are you sure of that? It isn't worthwhile to play
the innocent with me.
JULIE. I gave my love to a rascal.
JEAN. That's what they always say afterward.
JULIE. Always?
JEAN. Always, I believe, as I have heard the expression many times
before under the same circumstances.
JULIE. What circumstances?
JEAN. Those we've been talking about. The last time I-- --
JULIE. Silence. I don't wish to hear any more.
JEAN. Well, then I beg to be excused so I may go to bed.
JULIE. Go to bed! On midsummer night?
JEAN. Yes, for dancing out there with that pack has not amused me.
JULIE. Then get the key for the boat and row me out over the lake. I
want to see the sun rise.
JEAN. Is that prudent?
JULIE. One would think that you were afraid of your reputation.
JEAN. Why not? I don't want to be made ridiculous. I am not willing to
be driven out without references, now that I am going to settle down.
And I feel I owe something to Kristin.
JULIE. Oh, so it's Kristin now--
JEAN. Yes, but you too. Take my advice, go up and go to bed.
JULIE. Shall I obey you?
JEAN. For once--for your own sake. I beg of you. Night is crawling
along, sleepiness makes one irresponsible and the brain grows hot. Go to
your room. In fact--if I hear rightly some of the people are coming for
me. If they find us here--then you are lost.
[Chorus is heard approaching, singing.]
"There came two ladies out of the woods
Tridiridi-ralla tridiridi-ra.
One of them had wet her foot,
Tridiridi-ralla-la.
"They talked of a hundred dollars,
Tridiridi-ralla tridiridi-ra.
But neither had hardly a dollar,
Tridiridi-ralla-la.
"The mitten I'm going to send you,
Tridirichi-ralla tridiridi-ra.
For another I'm going to jilt you,
Tridiridi-ralla tridiridi-ra."
JULIE. I know the people and I love them and they respect me. Let them
come, you shall see.
JEAN. No, Miss Julie, they don't love you. They take your food and spit
upon your kindness, believe me. Listen to them, listen to what they're
singing! No! Don't listen!
JULIE [Listening]. What are they singing?
JEAN. It's something suggestive, about you and me.
JULIE. Infamous! Oh horrible! And how cowardly!
JEAN. The pack is always cowardly. And in such a battle one can only run
away.
JULIE. Run away? Where? We can't get out and we can't go to Kristin.
JEAN. Into my room then. Necessity knows no law. You can depend on me
for I am your real, genuine, respectful friend.
JULIE. But think if they found you there.
JEAN. I will turn the key and if they try to break in I'll shoot.
Come--come!
JULIE. [Meaningly]. You promise me--?
JEAN. I swear...
[She exits R. Jean follows her.]
[BALLET.--The farm folk enter in holiday dress with flowers in their
hats, a fiddler in the lead. They carry a keg of home-brewed beer and a
smaller keg of gin, both decorated with greens which are placed on the
table. They help themselves to glasses and drink. Then they sing and
dance a country dance to the melody of "There came two ladies out of the
woods." When that is over they go out, singing.]
[Enter Julie alone, sees the havoc the visitors have made, clasps her
hands, takes out powder box and powders her face. Enter Jean exuberant.]
JEAN. There, you see, and you heard them. Do you think it's possible for
us to remain here any longer?
JULIE. No, I don't. But what's to be done?
JEAN. Fly! Travel--far from here!
JULIE. Travel--yes--but where?
JEAN. To Switzerland--to the Italian lakes. You have never been there?
JULIE. No--is it beautiful there?
JEAN. Oh, an eternal summer! Oranges, trees, laurels--oh!
JULIE. But what shall we do there?
JEAN. I'll open a first-class hotel for first-class patrons.
JULIE. Hotel?
JEAN. That is life--you shall see! New faces constantly, different
languages. Not a moment for boredom. Always something to do night and
day--the bell ringing, the trains whistling, the omnibus coming and
going and all the time the gold pieces rolling into the till--that is
life!
JULIE. Yes, that is life. And I--?
JEAN. The mistress of the establishment--the ornament of the house. With
your looks--and your manners--oh, it's a sure success! Colossal! You
could sit like a queen in the office and set the slaves in action by
touching an electric button. The guests line up before your throne
and shyly lay their riches on your desk. You can't believe how people
tremble when they get their bills--I can salt the bills and you can
sweeten them with your most bewitching smile--ha, let us get away from
here--[Takes a time table from his pocket] immediately--by the next
train. We can be at Malmö at 6.30, Hamburg at 8.40 tomorrow morning,
Frankfort the day after and at Como by the St. Gothard route in
about--let me see, three days. Three days!
JULIE. All that is well enough, but Jean--you must give me courage. Take
me in your arms and tell me that you love me.
JEAN [Hesitatingly]. I will--but I daren't--not again in this house. I
love you of course--do you doubt that?
JULIE [Shyly and with womanliness]. You! Say thou to me! Between us
there can be no more formality. Say thou.
JEAN. I can't--There must be formality between us--as long as we are
in this house. There is the memory of the past--and there is the
Count, your father. I have never known anyone else for whom I have such
respect. I need only to see his gloves lying in a chair to feel my own
insignificance. I have only to hear his bell to start like a nervous
horse--and now as I see his boots standing there so stiff and proper I
feel like bowing and scraping. [Gives boots a kick]. Superstitions and
prejudices taught in childhood can't be uprooted in a moment. Let us go
to a country that is a republic where they'll stand on their heads for
my coachman's livery--on their heads shall they stand--but I shall not.
I am not born to bow and scrape, for there's stuff in me--character.
If I only get hold of the first limb, you shall see me climb. I'm a
coachman today, but next year I shall be a proprietor, in two years a
gentleman of income; then for Roumania where I'll let them decorate me
and can, mark you, _can_ end a count!
JULIE. Beautiful, beautiful!
JEAN. Oh, in Roumania, one can buy a title cheap--and so you can be a
countess just the same--my countess!
JULIE. What do I care for all that--which I now cast behind me. Say that
you love me--else, what am I, without it?
JEAN. I'll say it a thousand times afterwards, but not here. Above all,
let us have no sentimentality now or everything will fall through. We
must look at this matter coldly like sensible people. [Takes out a cigar
and lights it.] Now sit down there and I'll sit here and we'll talk it
over as if nothing had happened.
JULIE [Staggered]. Oh, my God, have you no feeling?
JEAN. I? No one living has more feeling than I but I can restrain
myself.
JULIE. A moment ago you could kiss my slipper and now--
JEAN [Harshly]. That was--then. Now we have other things to think about.
JULIE. Don't speak harshly to me.
JEAN. Not harshly, but wisely. One folly has been committed--commit no
more. The Count may be here at any moment, and before he comes, our
fate must be settled. How do my plans for the future strike you? Do you
approve of them?
JULIE. They seem acceptable enough. But one question. For such a great
undertaking a large capital is necessary, have you that?
JEAN [Chewing his cigar]. I? To be sure. I have my regular occupation,
my unusual experience, my knowledge of different languages--that is
capital that counts, I should say.
JULIE. But with all that you could not buy a railway ticket.
JEAN. That's true, and for that reason I'm looking for a backer who can
furnish the funds.
JULIE. How can that be done at a moment's notice?
JEAN. That is for you to say, if you wish to be my companion.
JULIE. I can't--as I have nothing myself.
[A pause.]
JEAN. Then the whole matter drops-- --
JULIE. And-- --
JEAN. Things remain as they are.
JULIE. Do you think I could remain under this roof after----Do you think
I will allow the people to point at me in scorn, or that I can ever look
my father in the face again? Never! Take me away from this humiliation
and dishonor. Oh, what have I done! Oh, my God, what have I done!
[Weeping.]
JEAN. So, you are beginning in that tune now. What have you done? The
same as many before you.
JULIE. And now you despise me. I am falling! I am falling!
JEAN. Fall down to my level, I'll lift you up afterwards.
JULIE. What strange power drew me to you--the weak to the strong--the
falling to the rising, or is this love! This--love! Do you know what
love is?
JEAN. I? Yes! Do you think it's the first time?
JULIE. What language, what thoughts.
JEAN. I am what life has made me. Don't be nervous and play the high and
mighty, for now we are on the same level. Look here, my little girl, let
me offer you a glass of something extra fine. [Opens drawer of table
and takes out wine bottle, then fills two glasses that have been already
used.]
JULIE. Where did you get that wine?
JEAN. From the cellar.
JULIE. My father's Burgundy.
JEAN. What's the matter, isn't that good enough for the son-in-law?
JULIE. And I drink beer--I!
JEAN. That only goes to prove that your taste is poorer than mine.
JULIE. Thief!
JEAN. Do you intend to tattle?
JULIE. Oh ho! Accomplice to a house thief. Was I intoxicated--have I
been walking in my sleep this night--midsummer night, the night for
innocent play--
JEAN. Innocent, eh!
JULIE [Pacing back and forth]. Is there a being on earth so miserable as
I.
JEAN. Why are you, after such a conquest. Think of Kristin in there,
don't you think she has feelings too?
JULIE. I thought so a little while ago, but I don't any more. A servant
is a servant.
JEAN. And a whore is a whore.
JULIE [Falls on her knees with clasped hands]. Oh, God in heaven, end
my wretched life, save me from this mire into which I'm sinking--Oh save
me, save me.
JEAN. I can't deny that it hurts me to see you like this.
JULIE. And you who wanted to die for me.
JEAN. In the oat-bin? Oh, that was only talk.
JULIE. That is to say--a lie!
JEAN [Beginning to show sleepiness]. Er--er almost. I believe I read
something of the sort in a newspaper about a chimney-sweep who made
a death bed for himself of syringa blossoms in a wood-bin--[laughs]
because they were going to arrest him for non-support of his children.
JULIE. So you are such a--
JEAN. What better could I have hit on! One must always be romantic to
capture a woman.
JULIE. Wretch! Now you have seen the eagle's back, and I suppose I am to
be the first limb--
JEAN. And the limb is rotten--
JULIE [Without seeming to hear]. And I am to be the hotel's signboard--
JEAN. And I the hotel--
JULIE. And sit behind the desk and allure guests and overcharge them--
JEAN. Oh, that'll be my business.
JULIE. That a soul can be so degraded!
JEAN. Look to your own soul.
JULIE. Lackey! Servant! Stand up when I speak.
JEAN. Don't you dare to moralize to me. Lackey, eh! Do you think you
have shown yourself finer than any maid-servant tonight?
JULIE [Crushed]. That is right, strike me, trample on me, I deserve
nothing better. I have done wrong, but help me now. Help me out of this
if there is any possible way.
JEAN [Softens somewhat]. I don't care to shirk my share of the blame,
but do you think any one of my position would ever have dared to raise
his eyes to you if you yourself had not invited it? Even now I am
astonished--
JULIE. And proud.
JEAN. Why not? Although I must confess that the conquest was too easy to
be exciting.
JULIE. Go on, strike me again--
JEAN [Rising]. No, forgive me, rather, for what I said. I do not strike
the unarmed, least of all, a woman. But I can't deny that from a certain
point of view it gives me satisfaction to know that it is the glitter of
brass, not gold, that dazzles us from below, and that the eagle's back
is grey like the rest of him. On the other hand, I'm sorry to have to
realize that all that I have looked up to is not worth while, and it
pains me to see you fallen lower than your cook as it pains me to see
autumn blossoms whipped to pieces by the cold rain and transformed
into--dirt!
JULIE. You speak as though you were already my superior.
JEAN. And so I am! For I can make you a countess and you could never
make me a count.
JULIE. But I am born of a count, that you can never be.
JEAN. That is true, but I can be the father of counts--if--
JULIE. But you are a thief--that I am not.
JEAN. There are worse things than that, and for that matter when I serve
in a house I regard myself as a member of the family, a child of the
house as it were. And one doesn't consider it theft if children snoop
a berry from full bushes. [With renewed passion]. Miss Julie, you are a
glorious woman--too good for such as I. You have been the victim of an
infatuation and you want to disguise this fault by fancying that you
love me. But you do not--unless perhaps my outer self attracts you. And
then your love is no better than mine. But I cannot be satisfied with
that, and your real love I can never awaken.
JULIE. Are you sure of that?
JEAN. You mean that we could get along with such an arrangement? There's
no doubt about my loving you--you are beautiful, you are elegant--[Goes
to her and takes her hand] accomplished, lovable when you wish to be,
and the flame that you awaken in man does not die easily. [Puts arm
around her.] You are like hot wine with strong spices, and your lips--
[Tries to kiss her. Julie pulls herself away slowly.]
JULIE. Leave me--I'm not to be won this way.
JEAN. How then? Not with caresses and beautiful words? Not by thoughts
for the future, to save humiliation? How then?
JULIE. How? I don't know. I don't know! I shrink from you as I would
from a rat. But I cannot escape from you.
JEAN. Escape with me.
JULIE. Escape? Yes, we must escape.--But I'm so tired. Give me a glass
of wine. [Jean fills a glass with wine, Julie looks at her watch.] We
must talk it over first for we have still a little time left.
[She empties the glass and puts it out for more.]
JEAN. Don't drink too much. It will go to your head.
JULIE. What harm will that do?
JEAN. What harm? It's foolish to get intoxicated. But what did you want
to say?
JULIE. We must go away, but we must talk first. That is, I must speak,
for until now you have done all the talking. You have told me about
your life--now I will tell you about mine, then we will know each other
through and through before we start on our wandering together.
JEAN. One moment, pardon. Think well whether you won't regret having
told your life's secrets.
JULIE. Aren't you my friend?
JEAN. Yes. Sometimes. But don't depend on me.
JULIE. You only say that. And for that matter I have no secrets. You
see, my mother was not of noble birth. She was brought up with ideas of
equality, woman's freedom and all that. She had very decided opinions
against matrimony, and when my father courted her she declared that she
would never be his wife--but she did so for all that. I came into the
world against my mother's wishes, I discovered, and was brought up like
a child of nature by my mother, and taught everything that a boy must
know as well; I was to be an example of a woman being as good as a
man--I was made to go about in boy's clothes and take care of the horses
and harness and saddle and hunt, and all such things; in fact, all over
the estate women servants were taught to do men's work, with the result
that the property came near being ruined--and so we became the laughing
stock of the countryside. At last my father must have awakened from his
bewitched condition, for he revolted, and ran things according to his
ideas. My mother became ill--what it was I don't know, but she often had
cramps and acted queerly--sometimes hiding in the attic or the orchard,
and would even be gone all night at times. Then came the big fire which
of course you have heard about. The house, the stables--everything was
burned, under circumstances that pointed strongly to an incendiary, for
the misfortune happened the day after the quarterly insurance was
due and the premiums sent in by father were strangely delayed by his
messenger so that they arrived too late. [She fills a wine glass and
drinks.]
JEAN. Don't drink any more.
JULIE. Oh, what does it matter? My father was utterly at a loss to know
where to get money to rebuild with. Then my mother suggested that he
try to borrow from a man who had been her friend in her youth--a brick
manufacturer here in the neighborhood. My father made the loan, but
wasn't allowed to pay any interest, which surprised him. Then the house
was rebuilt. [Julie drinks again.] Do you know who burned the house?
JEAN. Her ladyship, your mother?
JULIE. Do you know who the brick manufacturer was?
JEAN. Your mother's lover?
JULIE. Do you know whose money it was?
JEAN. Just a moment, that I don't know.
JULIE. It was my mother's.
JEAN. The Count's--that is to say, unless there was a contract.
JULIE. There was no contract. My mother had some money which she had not
wished to have in my father's keeping and therefore, she had entrusted
it to her friend's care.
JEAN. Who kept it.
JULIE. Quite right--he held on to it. All this came to my father's
knowledge. He couldn't proceed against him, wasn't allowed to pay his
wife's friend, and couldn't prove that it was his wife's money. That was
my mother's revenge for his taking the reins of the establishment into
his own hands. At that time he was ready to shoot himself. Gossip had it
that he had tried and failed. Well, he lived it down--and my mother paid
full penalty for her misdeed. Those were five terrible years for me,
as you can fancy. I sympathized with my father, but I took my mother's
part, for I didn't know the true circumstances. Through her I learned to
distrust and hate men, and I swore to her never to be a man's slave.
JEAN. But you became engaged to the Lieutenant Governor.
JULIE. Just to make him my slave.
JEAN. But that he didn't care to be.
JULIE. He wanted to be, fast enough, but I grew tired of him.
JEAN. Yes--I noticed that--in the stable-yard!
JULIE. What do you mean?
JEAN. I saw how he broke the engagement.
JULIE. That's a lie. It was I who broke it. Did he say he broke it--the
wretch!
JEAN. I don't believe that he was a wretch. You hate men, Miss Julie.
JULIE. Most of them. Sometimes one is weak--
JEAN. You hate me?
JULIE. Excessively. I could see you shot--
JEAN. Like a mad dog?
JULIE. Exactly!
JEAN. But there is nothing here to shoot with. What shall we do then?
JULIE [Rousing herself].We must get away from here--travel.
JEAN. And torture each other to death?
JULIE. No--to enjoy, a few days, a week--as long as we can. And then to
die.
JEAN. Die! How silly. I think it's better to start the hotel.
JULIE [Not heeding him]. By the Lake of Como where the sun is always
shining, where the laurel is green at Christmas and the oranges glow.
JEAN. The Lake of Como is a rain hole, I never saw any oranges there
except on fruit stands. But it's a good resort, and there are many
villas to rent to loving couples. That's a very paying industry. You
know why? They take leases for half a year at least, but they usually
leave in three weeks.
JULIE [Naively]. Why after three weeks?
JEAN. Why? They quarrel of course, but the rent must be paid all the
same. Then you re-let, and so one after another they come and go, for
there is plenty of love, although it doesn't last long.
JULIE. Then you don't want to die with me?
JEAN. I don't want to die at all, both because I enjoy living and
because I regard suicide as a crime to Him who has given us life.
JULIE. Then you believe in God?
JEAN. Yes. Of course I do, and I go to church every other Sunday--But
I'm tired of all this and I'm going to bed.
JULIE. Do you think I would allow myself to be satisfied with such an
ending? Do you know what a man owes to a woman he hits-- --
JEAN [Takes out a silver coin and throws it on the table]. Allow me, I
don't want to owe anything to anyone.
JULIE [Pretending not to notice the insult]. Do you know what the law
demands?
JEAN. I know that the law demands nothing of a woman who seduces a man.
JULIE [Again not heeding him]. Do you see any way out of it but to
travel?--wed--and separate?
JEAN. And if I protest against this misalliance?
JULIE. Misalliance!
JEAN. Yes, for me. For you see I have a finer ancestry than you, for I
have no fire-bug in my family.
JULIE. How do you know?
JEAN. You can't prove the contrary. We have no family record except that
which the police keep. But your pedigree I have read in a book on the
drawing room table. Do you know who the founder of your family was? It
was a miller whose wife found favor with the king during the Danish War.
Such ancestry I have not.
JULIE. This is my reward for opening my heart to anyone so unworthy,
with whom I have talked about my family honor.
JEAN. Dishonor--yes, I said it. I told you not to drink because then one
talks too freely and one should never talk.
JULIE. Oh, how I repent all this. If at least you loved me!
JEAN. For the last time--what do you mean? Shall I weep, shall I jump
over your riding whip, shall I kiss you, lure you to Lake Como for three
weeks, and then--what do you want anyway? This is getting tiresome. But
that's the way it always is when you get mixed up in women's affairs.
Miss Julie, I see that you are unhappy, I know that you suffer, but I
can't understand you. Among my kind there is no nonsense of this sort;
we love as we play when work gives us time. We haven't the whole day and
night for it like you.
JULIE. You must be good to me and speak to me as though I were a human
being.
JEAN. Be one yourself. You spit on me and expect me to stand it.
JULIE. Help me, help me. Only tell me what to do--show me a way out of
this!
JEAN. In heaven's name, if I only knew myself.
JULIE. I have been raving, I have been mad, but is there no means of
deliverance?
JEAN. Stay here at home and say nothing. No one knows.
JULIE. Impossible. These people know it, and Kristin.
JEAN. They don't know it and could never suspect such a thing.
JULIE [Hesitating]. But--it might happen again.
JEAN. That is true.
JULIE. And the consequences?
JEAN [Frightened]. Consequences--where were my wits not to have thought
of that! There is only one thing to do. Get away from here immediately.
I can't go with you or they will suspect. You must go alone--away from
here--anywhere.
JULIE. Alone? Where? I cannot.
JEAN. You must--and before the Count returns. If you stay, we know how
it will be. If one has taken a false step it's likely to happen again as
the harm has already been done, and one grows more and more daring
until at last all is discovered. Write the Count afterward and confess
all--except that it was I. That he could never guess, and I don't think
he'll be so anxious to know who it was, anyway.
JULIE. I will go if you'll go with me.
JEAN. Are you raving again? Miss Julie running away with her coachman?
All the papers would be full of it and that the Count could never live
through.
JULIE. I can't go--I can't stay. Help me, I'm so tired--so weary.
Command me, set me in motion--I can't think any more,--can't act--
JEAN. See now, what creatures you aristocrats are! Why do you bristle up
and stick up your noses as though you were the lords of creation. Very
well--I will command you! Go up and dress yourself and see to it that
you have travelling money and then come down. [She hesitates.] Go
immediately.
[She still hesitates. He takes her hand and leads her to door.]
JULIE. Speak gently to me, Jean.
JEAN. A command always sounds harsh. Feel it yourself now.
[Exit Julie.]
[Jean draws a sigh of relief, seats himself by the table, takes out a
notebook and pencil and counts aloud now and then until Kristin comes
in, dressed for church.]
KRISTIN. My heavens, how it looks here. What's been going on?
JEAN. Oh, Miss Julie dragged in the people. Have you been sleeping so
soundly that you didn't hear anything?
KRISTIN. I've slept like a log.
JEAN. And already dressed for church!
KRISTIN. Ye-es, [Sleepily] didn't you promise to go to early service
with me?
JEAN. Yes, quite so, and there you have my stock and front. All right.
[He seats himself. Kristin putting on his stock.]
JEAN [Sleepily]. What is the text today?
KRISTIN. St. John's Day! It is of course about the beheading of John the
Baptist.
JEAN. I'm afraid it will be terribly long drawn out--that. Hey, you're
choking me. I'm so sleepy, so sleepy.
KRISTIN. What have you been doing up all night? You are actually green
in the face.
JEAN. I have been sitting here talking to Miss Julie.
KRISTIN. Oh you don't know your place.
[Pause.]
JEAN. Listen, Kristin.
KRISTIN. Well?
JEAN. It's queer about her when you think it over.
KRISTIN. What is queer?
JEAN. The whole thing.
[Pause. Kristin looks at half empty glasses on table.]
KRISTIN. Have you been drinking together, too?
JEAN. Yes!
KRISTIN. For shame. Look me in the eye.
JEAN. Yes.
KRISTIN. Is it possible? Is it possible?
JEAN [After reflecting]. Yes, it is.
KRISTIN. Ugh! That I would never have believed. For shame, for shame!
JEAN. You are not jealous of her?