Part 11

CHRISTINE. And you who are such a smarty can't tell that! You wouldn't serve people who don't act decently, would you? It's to lower oneself, I think.

JEAN. Yes, but it ought to be a consolation to us that they are not a bit better than we.

CHRISTINE. No, I don't think so. For if they're no better, then it's no use trying to get up to them. And just think of the count! Think of him who has had so much sorrow in his day! No, I don't want to stay any longer in this house--And with a fellow like you, too. If it had been the county attorney--if it had only been some one of her own sort--

JEAN. Now look here!

CHRISTINE. Yes, yes! You're all right in your way, but there's after all some difference between one kind of people and another—- No, but this is something I'll never get over!--And the young lady who was so proud, and so tart to the men, that you couldn't believe she would ever let one come near her--and such a one at that! And she who wanted to have poor Diana shot because she had been running around with the gate-keeper's pug!--Well, I declare!--But I won't stay here any longer, and next October I get out of here.

JEAN. And then?

CHRISTINE. Well, as we've come to talk of that now, perhaps it would be just as well if you looked for something, seeing that we're going to get married after all.

JEAN. Well, what could I look for? As a married man I couldn't get a place like this.

CHRISTINE. No, I understand that. But you could get a job as a janitor, or maybe as a messenger in some government bureau. Of course, the public loaf is always short in weight, but it comes steady, and then there is a pension for the widow and the children--

JEAN. [Making a face] That's good and well, but it isn't my style to think of dying all at once for the sake of wife and children. I must say that my plans have been looking toward something better than that kind of thing.

CHRISTINE. Your plans, yes--but you've got obligations also, and those you had better keep in mind!

JEAN. Now don't you get my dander up by talking of obligations! I know what I've got to do anyhow. [Listening for some sound on the outside] However, we've plenty of time to think of all this. Go in now and get ready, and then we'll go to church.

CHRISTINE. Who is walking around up there?

JEAN. I don't know, unless it be Clara.

CHRISTINE. [Going out] It can't be the count, do you think, who's come home without anybody hearing him?

JEAN. [Scared] The count? No, that isn't possible, for then he would have rung for me.

CHRISTINE. [As she goes out] Well, God help us all! Never have I seen the like of it!

[The sun has risen and is shining on the tree tops in the park. The light changes gradually until it comes slantingly in through the windows. JEAN goes to the door and gives a signal.]

JULIA. [Enters in travelling dress and carrying a small birdcage covered up with a towel; this she places on a chair] Now I am ready.

JEAN. Hush! Christine is awake.

JULIA. [Showing extreme nervousness during the following scene] Did she suspect anything?

JEAN. She knows nothing at all. But, my heavens, how you look!

JULIA. How do I look?

JEAN. You're as pale as a corpse, and--pardon me, but your face is dirty.

JULIA. Let me wash it then--Now! [She goes over to the washstand and washes her face and hands] Give me a towel--Oh!--That's the sun rising!

JEAN. And then the ogre bursts.

JULIA. Yes, ogres and trolls were abroad last night!—But listen, Jean. Come with me, for now I have the money.

JEAN. [Doubtfully] Enough?

JULIA. Enough to start with. Come with me, for I cannot travel alone to-day. Think of it--Midsummer Day, on a stuffy train, jammed with people who stare at you--and standing still at stations when you want to fly. No, I cannot! I cannot! And then the memories will come: childhood memories of Midsummer Days, when the inside of the church was turned into a green forest--birches and lilacs; the dinner at the festive table with relatives and friends; the afternoon in the park, with dancing and music, flowers and games! Oh, you may run and run, but your memories are in the baggage-car, and with them remorse and repentance!

JEAN. I'll go with you-but at once, before it's too late. This very moment!

JULIA. Well, get dressed then. [Picks up the cage.]

JEAN. But no baggage! That would only give us away.

JULIA. No, nothing at all! Only what we can take with us in the car.

JEAN. [Has taken down his hat] What have you got there? What is it?

JULIA. It's only my finch. I can't leave it behind.

JEAN. Did you ever! Dragging a bird-cage along with us! You must be raving mad! Drop the cage!

JULIA. The only thing I take with me from my home! The only living creature that loves me since Diana deserted me! Don't be cruel! Let me take it along!

JEAN. Drop the cage, I tell you! And don't talk so loud--Christine can hear us.

JULIA. No, I won't let it fall into strange hands. I'd rather have you kill it!

JEAN. Well, give it to me, and I'll wring its neck.

JULIA. Yes, but don't hurt it. Don't--no, I cannot!

JEAN. Let me--I can!

JULIA. [Takes the bird out of the cage and kisses it] Oh, my little birdie, must it die and go away from its mistress!

JEAN. Don't make a scene, please. Don't you know it's a question of your life, of your future? Come, quick! [Snatches the bird away from her, carries it to the chopping block and picks up an axe. MISS JULIA turns away.]

JEAN. You should have learned how to kill chickens instead of shooting with a revolver--[brings down the axe]--then you wouldn't have fainted for a drop of blood.

JULIA. [Screaming] Kill me too! Kill me! You who can take the life of an innocent creature without turning a hair! Oh, I hate and despise you! There is blood between us! Cursed be the hour when I first met you! Cursed be the hour when I came to life in my mother's womb!

JEAN. Well, what's the use of all that cursing? Come on!

JULIA. [Approaching the chopping-block as if drawn to it against her will] No, I don't want to go yet. I cannot—-I must see--Hush! There's a carriage coming up the road. [Listening without taking her eyes of the block and the axe] You think I cannot stand the sight of blood. You think I am as weak as that--oh, I should like to see your blood, your brains, on that block there. I should like to see your whole sex swimming in blood like that thing there. I think I could drink out of your skull, and bathe my feet in your open breast, and eat your heart from the spit!--You think I am weak; you think I love you because the fruit of my womb was yearning for your seed; you think I want to carry your offspring under my heart and nourish it with my blood--bear your children and take your name! Tell me, you, what are you called anyhow? I have never heard your family name—-and maybe you haven't any. I should become Mrs. "Hovel," or Mrs. "Backyard"--you dog there, that's wearing my collar; you lackey with my coat of arms on your buttons-- and I should share with my cook, and be the rival of my own servant. Oh! Oh! Oh!--You think I am a coward and want to run away! No, now I'll stay--and let the lightning strike! My father will come home--will find his chiffonier opened--the money gone! Then he'll ring--twice for the valet--and then he'll send for the sheriff--and then I shall tell everything! Everything! Oh, but it will be good to get an end to it--if it only be the end! And then his heart will break, and he dies!--So there will be an end to all of us--and all will be quiet—peace--eternal rest!--And then the coat of arms will be shattered on the coffin--and the count's line will be wiped out--but the lackey's line goes on in the orphan asylum--wins laurels in the gutter, and ends in jail.

JEAN. There spoke the royal blood! Bravo, Miss Julia! Now you put the miller back in his sack!

[CHRISTINE enters dressed for church and carrying n hymn-book in her hand.]

JULIA. [Hurries up to her and throws herself into her arms ax if seeking protection] Help me, Christine! Help me against this man!

CHRISTINE. [Unmoved and cold] What kind of performance is this on the Sabbath morning? [Catches sight of the chopping-block] My, what a mess you have made!--What's the meaning of all this? And the way you shout and carry on!

JULIA. You are a woman, Christine, and you are my friend. Beware of that scoundrel!

JEAN. [A little shy and embarrassed] While the ladies are discussing I'll get myself a shave. [Slinks out to the right.]

JULIA. You must understand me, and you must listen to me.

CHRISTINE. No, really, I don't understand this kind of trolloping. Where are you going in your travelling-dress--and he with his hat on--what?--What?

JULIA. Listen, Christine, listen, and I'll tell you everything--

CHRISTINE. I don't want to know anything--

JULIA. You must listen to me--

CHRISTINE. What is it about? Is it about this nonsense with Jean? Well, I don't care about it at all, for it's none of my business. But if you're planning to get him away with you, we'll put a stop to that!

JULIA. [Extremely nervous] Please try to be quiet, Christine, and listen to me. I cannot stay here, and Jean cannot stay here--and so we must leave—-

CHRISTINE. Hm, hm!

JULIA. [Brightening. up] But now I have got an idea, you know. Suppose all three of us should leave--go abroad--go to Switzerland and start a hotel together--I have money, you know--and Jean and I could run the whole thing--and you, I thought, could take charge of the kitchen--Wouldn't that be fine!--Say yes, now! And come along with us! Then everything is fixed!--Oh, say yes!

[She puts her arms around CHRISTINE and pats her.]

CHRISTINE. [Coldly and thoughtfully] Hm, hm!

JULIA. [Presto tempo] You have never travelled, Christine--you must get out and have a look at the world. You cannot imagine what fun it is to travel on a train--constantly new people--new countries—- and then we get to Hamburg and take in the Zoological Gardens in passing--that's what you like--and then we go to the theatres and to the opera--and when we get to Munich, there, you know, we have a lot of museums, where they keep Rubens and Raphael and all those big painters, you know--Haven't you heard of Munich, where King Louis used to live--the king, you know, that went mad--And then we'll have a look at his castle--he has still some castles that are furnished just as in a fairy tale--and from there it isn't very far to Switzerland--and the Alps, you know--just think of the Alps, with snow on top of them in the middle of the summer--and there you have orange trees and laurels that are green all the year around--

[JEAN is seen in the right wing, sharpening his razor on a strop which he holds between his teeth and his left hand; he listens to the talk with a pleased mien and nods approval now and then.]

JULIA. [Tempo prestissimo] And then we get a hotel--and I sit in the office, while Jean is outside receiving tourists--and goes out marketing--and writes letters--That's a life for you--Then the train whistles, and the 'bus drives up, and it rings upstairs, and it rings in the restaurant--and then I make out the bills--and I am going to salt them, too--You can never imagine how timid tourists are when they come to pay their bills! And you--you will sit like a queen in the kitchen. Of course, you are not going to stand at the stove yourself. And you'll have to dress neatly and nicely in order to show yourself to people--and with your looks--yes, I am not flattering you--you'll catch a husband some fine day--some rich Englishman, you know-—for those fellows are so easy [slowing down] to catch--and then we grow rich--and we build us a villa at Lake Como--of course, it is raining a little in that place now and then—- but [limply] the sun must be shining sometimes--although it looks dark--and--then--or else we can go home again--and come back--here—- or some other place--

CHRISTINE. Tell me, Miss Julia, do you believe in all that yourself?

JULIA. [Crushed] Do I believe in it myself?

CHRISTINE. Yes.

JULIA. [Exhausted] I don't know: I believe no longer in anything. [She sinks down on the bench and drops her head between her arms on the table] Nothing! Nothing at all!

CHRISTINE. [Turns to the right, where JEAN is standing] So you were going to run away!

JEAN. [Abashed, puts the razor on the table] Run away? Well, that's putting it rather strong. You have heard what the young lady proposes, and though she is tired out now by being up all night, it's a proposition that can be put through all right.

CHRISTINE. Now you tell me: did you mean me to act as cook for that one there--?

JEAN. [Sharply] Will you please use decent language in speaking to your mistress! Do you understand?

CHRISTINE. Mistress!

JEAN. Yes!

CHRISTINE. Well, well! Listen to him!

JEAN. Yes, it would be better for you to listen a little more and talk a little less. Miss Julia is your mistress, and what makes you disrespectful to her now should snake you feel the same way about yourself.

CHRISTINE. Oh, I have always had enough respect for myself--

JEAN. To have none for others!

CHRISTINE. --not to go below my own station. You can't say that the count's cook has had anything to do with the groom or the swineherd. You can't say anything of the kind!

JEAN. Yes, it's your luck that you have had to do with a gentleman.

CHRISTINE. Yes, a gentleman who sells the oats out of the count's stable!

JEAN. What's that to you who get a commission on the groceries and bribes from the butcher?

CHRISTINE. What's that?

JEAN. And so you can't respect your master and mistress any longer! You--you!

CHRISTINE. Are you coming with me to church? I think you need a good sermon on top of such a deed.

JEAN. No, I am not going to church to-day. You can go by yourself and confess your own deeds.

CHRISTINE. Yes, I'll do that, and I'll bring back enough forgiveness to cover you also. The Saviour suffered and died on the cross for all our sins, and if we go to him with a believing heart and a repentant mind, he'll take all our guilt on himself.

JULIA. Do you believe that, Christine?

CHRISTINE. It is my living belief, as sure as I stand here, and the faith of my childhood which I have kept since I was young, Miss Julia. And where sin abounds, grace abounds too.

JULIA. Oh, if I had your faith! Oh, if—-

CHRISTINE. Yes, but you don't get it without the special grace of God, and that is not bestowed on everybody--

JULIA. On whom is it bestowed then?

CHRISTINE. That's just the great secret of the work of grace, Miss Julia, and the Lord has no regard for persons, but there those that are last shall be the foremost--

JULIA. Yes, but that means he has regard for those that are last.

CHRISTINE. [Going right on] --and it is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye than for a rich man to get into heaven. That's the way it is, Miss Julia. Now I am going, however-—alone—- and as I pass by, I'll tell the stableman not to let out the horses if anybody should like to get away before the count comes home. Good-bye! [Goes out.]

JEAN. Well, ain't she a devil!--And all this for the sake of a finch!

JULIA. [Apathetically] Never mind the finch!--Can you see any way out of this, any way to end it?

JEAN. [Ponders] No!

JULIA. What would you do in my place?

JEAN. In your place? Let me see. As one of gentle birth, as a woman, as one who has--fallen. I don't know--yes, I do know!

JULIA. [Picking up the razor with a significant gesture] Like this?

JEAN. Yes!--But please observe that I myself wouldn't do it, for there is a difference between us.

JULIA. Because you are a man and I a woman? What is the difference?

JEAN. It is the same--as--that between man and woman.

JULIA. [With the razor in her hand] I want to, but I cannot!--My father couldn't either, that time he should have done it.

JEAN. No, he should not have done it, for he had to get his revenge first.

JULIA. And now it is my mother's turn to revenge herself again, through me.

JEAN. Have you not loved your father, Miss Julia?

JULIA. Yes, immensely, but I must have hated him, too. I think I must have been doing so without being aware of it. But he was the one who reared me in contempt for my own sex--half woman and half man! Whose fault is it, this that has happened? My father's--my mother's--my own? My own? Why, I have nothing that is my own. I haven't a thought that didn't come from my father; not a passion that didn't come from my mother; and now this last--this about all human creatures being equal--I got that from him, my fiancé--whom I call a scoundrel for that reason! How can it be my own fault? To put the blame on Jesus, as Christine does--no, I am too proud for that, and know too much--thanks to my father's teachings--And that about a rich person not getting into heaven, it's just a lie, and Christine, who has money in the savings-bank, wouldn't get in anyhow. Whose is the fault?--What does it matter whose it is? For just the same I am the one who must bear the guilt and the results--

JEAN. Yes, but--

[Two sharp strokes are rung on the bell. MISS JULIA leaps to her feet. JEAN changes his coat.]

JEAN. The count is back. Think if Christine-- [Goes to the speaking-tube, knocks on it, and listens.]

JULIA. Now he has been to the chiffonier!

JEAN. It is Jean, your lordship! [Listening again, the spectators being unable to hear what the count says] Yes, your lordship! [Listening] Yes, your lordship! At once! [Listening] In a minute, your lordship! [Listening] Yes, yes! In half an hour!

JULIA. [With intense concern] What did he say? Lord Jesus, what did he say?

JEAN. He called for his boots and wanted his coffee in half an hour.

JULIA. In half an hour then! Oh, I am so tired. I can't do anything; can't repent, can't run away, can't stay, can't live—- can't die! Help me now! Command me, and I'll obey you like a dog! Do me this last favour--save my honour, and save his name! You know what my will ought to do, and what it cannot do--now give me your will, and make me do it!

JEAN. I don't know why--but now I can't either--I don't understand—- It is just as if this coat here made a--I cannot command you--and now, since I've heard the count's voice--now--I can't quite explain it-—but--Oh, that damned menial is back in my spine again. I believe if the count should come down here, and if he should tell me to cut my own throat--I'd do it on the spot!

JULIA. Make believe that you are he, and that I am you! You did some fine acting when you were on your knees before me--then you were the nobleman--or--have you ever been to a show and seen one who could hypnotize people?

[JEAN makes a sign of assent.]

JULIA. He says to his subject: get the broom. And the man gets it. He says: sweep. And the man sweeps.

JEAN. But then the other person must be asleep.

JULIA. [Ecstatically] I am asleep already--there is nothing in the whole room but a lot of smoke--and you look like a stove--that looks like a man in black clothes and a high hat--and your eyes glow like coals when the fire is going out--and your face is a lump of white ashes. [The sunlight has reached the floor and is now falling on JEAN] How warm and nice it is! [She rubs her hands as if warming them before a fire.] And so light--and so peaceful!

JEAN. [Takes the razor and puts it in her hand] There's the broom! Go now, while it is light--to the barn--and-- [Whispers something in her ear.]

JULIA. [Awake] Thank you! Now I shall have rest! But tell me first—- that the foremost also receive the gift of grace. Say it, even if you don't believe it.

JEAN. The foremost? No, I can't do that!--But wait--Miss Julia--I know! You are no longer among the foremost--now when you are among the--last!

JULIA. That's right. I am among the last of all: I am the very last. Oh!--But now I cannot go--Tell me once more that I must go!

JEAN. No, now I can't do it either. I cannot!

JULIA. And those that are foremost shall be the last.

JEAN. Don't think, don't think! Why, you are taking away my strength, too, so that I become a coward--What? I thought I saw the bell moving!--To be that scared of a bell! Yes, but it isn't only the bell--there is somebody behind it--a hand that makes it move—- and something else that makes the hand move-but if you cover up your ears--just cover up your ears! Then it rings worse than ever! Rings and rings, until you answer it--and then it's too late--then comes the sheriff--and then--

[Two quick rings from the bell.]

JEAN. [Shrinks together; then he straightens himself up] It's horrid! But there's no other end to it!--Go!

[JULIA goes firmly out through the door.]

(Curtain.)

THE STRONGER

INTRODUCTION

Of Strindberg's dramatic works the briefest is "The Stronger." He called it a "scene." It is a mere incident--what is called a "sketch" on our vaudeville stage, and what the French so aptly have named a "quart d'heure." And one of the two figures in the cast remains silent throughout the action, thus turning the little play practically into a monologue. Yet it has all the dramatic intensity which we have come to look upon as one of the main characteristics of Strindberg's work for the stage. It is quivering with mental conflict, and because of this conflict human destinies may be seen to change while we are watching. Three life stories are laid bare during the few minutes we are listening to the seemingly aimless, yet so ominous, chatter of _Mrs. X._--and when she sallies forth at last, triumphant in her sense of possession, we know as much about her, her husband, and her rival, as if we had been reading a three-volume novel about them.