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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

"Plays: the Father; Countess Julie; the Outlaw; the Stronger"

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.]
JULIE. Leave me--I'm not to be won this way.
JEAN. How then? Not with caresses and beautiful words? Not by
thoughts for the future, to save humiliation? How then?
JULIE. How? I don't know. I don't know! I shrink from you as I
would from a rat. But I cannot escape from you.
JEAN. Escape with me.
JULIE. Escape? Yes, we must escape.--But I'm so tired. Give me a
glass of wine. [Jean fills a glass with wine, Julie looks at her
watch.] We must talk it over first for we have still a little time
left.
[She empties the glass and puts it out for more.]
JEAN. Don't drink too much.


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