John. Ho—ho! So that’s the game—what have you done? Just the same as a thousand other people like you.
Julie. [Screams as though in a paroxysm.] And now you despise me? I’m- falling, I’m falling!
John. Fall down to my level and then I’ll lift you up again afterward.
Julie. What awful power dragged me down to you, the power which draws the weak to the strong?—which draws him who falls to him who rises? Or was it love?—love—this! Do you know what love is?
John. I? Do you really suggest that I meant that? Don’t you think I’d have felt it already long ago?
Julie. What phrases to be sure, and what thoughts!
John. That’s what I learned and that’s what I am. But just keep your nerve and don’t play the fine lady. We’ve got into a mess and we’ve got to get out of it. Look here, my girl. Come here, I’ll give you an extra glass, my dear. [He opens the sideboard, takes out the bottle of wine and fills two of the dirty glasses.]
Julie. Where did you get the wine from?
John. The cellar.
Julie. My father’s Burgundy!
John. Is it too good for his son-in-law? I don’t think!
Julie. And I’ve been drinking beer!
John. That only shows that you’ve got worse taste than me.
Julie. Thief!
John. Want to blab?
Julie. Oh, oh! the accomplice of a house-thief. I drank too much last night and I did things in my dream. Midsummer Night, the feast of innocent joys John. Innocent! Hm!
Julie. [Walks up and down.] Is there at this moment a human being as unhappy as I am?
John. Why are you? After such a fine conquest. Just think of Christine in there, don’t you think she’s got feelings as well?
Julie. I used to think so before, but I don’t think so any more—no, a servant’s a servant
John. And a whore’s a whore.
Julie. O God in heaven! Take my miserable life! Take me out of this filth in which I’m sinking. Save me, save me!
John. I can’t gainsay but that you make me feel sorry. Once upon a time when I lay in the onion bed and saw you in the rose garden then—I’ll tell you straight—I had the same dirty thoughts as all youngsters.
Julie. And then you wanted tor die for me!
John. In the oat bin? That was mere gas.
Julie. Lies, you mean.
John. [Begins to get sleepy.] Near enough. I read the story once in the paper about a chimney-sweep who laid down in a chest full of lilac because he was ordered to take additional nourishment.
Julie. Yes—so you are
John. What other idea should I have thought of? One’s always got to capture a gal with flatteries.
Julie. Scoundrel!
John. Whore!
Julie. So I must be the first branch, must I?
John. But the branch was rotten.
Julie. I’ve got to be the notice board of the hotel, have I?
John. I’m going to be the hotel.
Julie. Sit in your office, decoy your customers, fake your bills.
John. I’ll see to that myself.
Julie. To think that a human being can be so thoroughly dirty!
John. Wash yourself clean.
Julie. Lackey! Menial! Stand up—you, when I’m speaking!
John. You wench of a menial! Hold your jaw and clear out! Is it for you to come ragging me that I’m rough? No one in my station of life could have made herself so cheap as the way you carried on to-night, my girl. Do you think that a clean-minded girl excites men in the way that you do? Have you ever seen a girl in my position offer herself in the way you did?
Julie. [Humiliated.] That’s right, strike me, trample on me! I haven’t deserved anything better. I’m a wretched woman. But help me! Help me to get away, if there’s any chance of it.
John. [More gently.] I don’t want to deny my share in the honor of having seduced you, but do you think that a person in my position would have dared to have raised his eyes to you if you yourself hadn’t invited him to do it? I’m still quite amazed.
Julie. And proud.
John. Why not? Although I must acknowledge that the victory was too easy to make me get a swelled head over it.
Julie. Strike me once more!
John. [He gets up.] No, I’d rather ask you to forgive me what I’ve already said. I don’t hit a defenceless person, and least of all a girl. I can’t deny that from one point of view I enjoyed seeing that it was not gold but glitter which dazzled us all down below; to have seen that the back, of the hawk was only drab, and that there was powder on those dainty cheeks, and that those manicured nails could have grimy tips, that the handkerchief was dirty, even though it did smell of scent! But it pained me, on the other hand, to have seen that the thing I’d been striving for was not something higher, something sounder; it pains me to have seen you sink so deep that you are far beneath your own cook; it pains me to see that the autumn flowers have crumpled up in the rain and turned into a mess.
Julie. You’re talking as though you were already my superior.
John. I am; look here, I could change you into a countess, but you could never make me into a count!
Julie. But I am bred from a count, and that you can never be.
John. That’s true, but I could produce counts myself if—
Julie. But you’re a thief, and I’m not.
John. There are worse things than being a thief; that’s not the worst, besides, if I’m serving in a household, I look upon myself in a manner of speaking as one of the family, as a child of the house, and it isn’t regarded as stealing if a child picks a berry from a large bunch. [His passion wakes up afresh.] Miss Julie, you’re a magnificent woman, much too good for the likes of me. You’ve been the prey of a mad fit and you want to cover up your mistake, and that’s why you’ve got it into your head you love me, but you don’t. Of course, it may be that only my personal charms attract you—and in that case your love is not a bit better than mine; but I can never be satisfied with being nothing more to you than a mere beast, and I can’t get your love.
Julie. Are you sure of it?
John. You mean it might come about? I might love you? Yes, no doubt about it, you’re pretty, you’re refined. [He> approaches her and takes her hand.] Nice, when you want to be, and when you have roused desire in a man the odds are that it will never be extinguished. [He embraces her.] You are like burning wine, with strong herbs in it, and a kiss from you [He tries to lead her on to the left, but she struggles free.]
Julie. Let me alone! That’s not the way to win me!
John. In what way then? Not in that way? Not with caresses and pretty words—not with forethought for the future, escape from disgrace? In what way then?