Chapter VI: Introduction (2)

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. _Très gentil, Monsieur Jean! Très gentil!_

JEAN. _Vous voulez plaisanter, Madame!_

JULIA. _Et vous voulez parler français!_ 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 "brännvin," 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 Malmö 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. [Naïvely] 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 _mésaillance_?

JULIA. _Mésaillance_--

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?