FullReads

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 it 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!