PAGE 11
Miss Julia: A Naturalistic Tragedy
by
(On the table end stands a big Japanese spice pot full of lilac blossoms.)
(An icebox, a kitchen-table, and a wash-stand.)
(Above the door hangs a big old-fashioned bell on a steel spring, and the mouthpiece of a speaking-tube appears at the left of the door.)
(CHRISTINE is standing by the stove, frying something in a pan. She has on a dress of light-coloured cotton, which she has covered up with a big kitchen apron.)
(JEAN enters, dressed in livery and carrying a pair of big, spurred riding boots, which he places on the floor in such manner that they remain visible to the spectators.)
JEAN.
To-night Miss Julia is crazy again; absolutely crazy.
CHRISTINE.
So you’re back again?
JEAN.
I took the count to the station, and when I came back by the barn, I went in and had a dance, and there I saw the young lady leading the dance with the gamekeeper. But when she caught sight of me, she rushed right up to me and asked me to dance the ladies’ waltz with her. And ever since she’s been waltzing like–well, I never saw the like of it. She’s crazy!
CHRISTINE.
And has always been, but never the way it’s been this last fortnight, since her engagement was broken.
JEAN.
Well, what kind of a story was that anyhow? He’s a fine fellow, isn’t he, although he isn’t rich? Ugh, but they’re so full of notions. [Sits down at the end of the table] It’s peculiar anyhow, that a young lady–hm!–would rather stay at home with the servants–don’t you think?–than go with her father to their relatives!
CHRISTINE.
Oh, I guess she feels sort of embarrassed by that rumpus with her fellow.
JEAN.
Quite likely. But there was some backbone to that man just the same. Do you know how it happened, Christine? I saw it, although I didn’t care to let on.
CHRISTINE.
No, did you?
JEAN.
Sure, I did. They were in the stable-yard one evening, and the young lady was training him, as she called it. Do you know what that meant? She made him leap over her horse-whip the way you teach a dog to jump. Twice he jumped and got a cut each time. The third time he took the whip out of her hand and broke it into a thousand bits. And then he got out.
CHRISTINE.
So that’s the way it happened! You don’t say!
JEAN.
Yes, that’s how that thing happened. Well, Christine, what have you got that’s tasty?
CHRISTINE.
[Serves from the pan and puts the plate before Jean]
Oh, just some kidney which I cut out of the veal roast.
JEAN.
[Smelling the food]
Fine! That’s my great delice. [Feeling the plate] But you might have warmed the plate.
CHRISTINE.
Well, if you ain’t harder to please than the count himself! [Pulls his hair playfully.]
JEAN.
[Irritated]
Don’t pull my hair! You know how sensitive I am.
CHRISTINE.
Well, well, it was nothing but a love pull, you know.
[JEAN eats.]
[CHRISTINE opens a bottle of beer.]
JEAN.
Beer-on Midsummer Eve? No, thank you! Then I have something better myself. [Opens a table-drawer and takes out a bottle of claret with yellow cap] Yellow seal, mind you! Give me a glass—and you use those with stems when you drink it pure.
CHRISTINE.
[Returns to the stove and puts a small pan on the fire]
Heaven preserve her that gets you for a husband, Mr. Finicky!
JEAN.
Oh, rot! You’d be glad enough to get a smart fellow like me. And I guess it hasn’t hurt you that they call me your beau. [Tasting the wine] Good! Pretty good! Just a tiny bit too cold. [He warms the glass with his hand.] We got this at Dijon. It cost us four francs per litre, not counting the bottle. And there was the duty besides. What is it you’re cooking–with that infernal smell?