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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

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

Among my kind there is
no nonsense of this sort; we love as we play when work gives us
time. We haven't the whole day and night for it like you.
JULIE. You must be good to me and speak to me as though I were a
human being.
JEAN. Be one yourself. You spit on me and expect me to stand it.
JULIE. Help me, help me. Only tell me what to do--show me a way out
of this!
JEAN. In heaven's name, if I only knew myself.
JULIE. I have been raving, I have been mad, but is there no means
of deliverance?
JEAN. Stay here at home and say nothing. No one knows.
JULIE. Impossible. These people know it, and Kristin.
JEAN. They don't know it and could never suspect such a thing.
JULIE [Hesitating]. But--it might happen again.
JEAN. That is true.
JULIE. And the consequences?
JEAN [Frightened]. Consequences--where were my wits not to have
thought of that! There is only one thing to do. Get away from here
immediately. I can't go with you or they will suspect. You must go
alone--away from here--anywhere.
JULIE. Alone? Where? I cannot.
JEAN. You must--and before the Count returns. If you stay, we know
how it will be. If one has taken a false step it's likely to happen
again as the harm has already been done, and one grows more and
more daring until at last all is discovered. Write the Count
afterward and confess all--except that it was I. That he could
never guess, and I don't think he'll be so anxious to know who it
was, anyway.
JULIE.


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