Part 7
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.]