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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

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

So--quickly. [Snatches bird from her and goes to
chopping block and takes up meat chopper]. You should have learned
how to chop off a chicken's head instead of shooting with a
revolver. [He chops off the bird's head]. Then you wouldn't swoon
at a drop of blood.
JULIE [Shrieks]. Kill me, too. Kill me! You who can butcher an
innocent bird without a tremble. Oh, how I shrink from you. I curse
the moment I first saw you. I curse the moment I was conceived in
my mother's womb.
JEAN. Come now! What good is your cursing, let's be off.
JULIE [Looks toward chopping block as though obsessed by thought of
the slain bird]. No, I cannot. I must see-- --hush, a carriage is
passing. Don't you think I can stand the sight of blood? You think
I am weak. Oh, I should like to see your blood flowing--to see your
brain on the chopping block, all your sex swimming in a sea of
blood. I believe I could drink out of your skull, bathe my feet in
your breast and eat your heart cooked whole. You think I am weak;
you believe that I love you because my life has mingled with yours;
you think that I would carry your offspring under my heart, and
nourish it with my blood--give birth to your child and take your
name! Hear, you, what are you called, what is your family name? But
I'm sure you have none. I should be "Mrs. Gate-Keeper," perhaps, or
"Madame Dumpheap." You dog with my collar on, you lackey with my
father's hallmark on your buttons. I play rival to my cook--oh--oh--
oh! You believe that I am cowardly and want to run away.


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