MISS JULIE
A monologue from the
play by August
Strindberg
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from Plays by August Strindberg. Trans. Edith and Warner
Oland. Boston: John W. Luce and Co., 1912. |
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JEAN: Do you know how people in high life look from
the under world? No ... of course you don't. They look like hawks
and eagles whose backs one seldom sees, for the soar up above.
I lived in a hovel provided by the state, with seven brothers
and sisters and a pig; out on a barren stretch where nothing
grew, not even a tree, but from the window I could see the Count's
park walls with apple trees rising above them. That was the garden
of paradise; and there stood many angry angels with flaming swords
protecting it; but for all that I and other boys found a way
to the tree of life--now you despise me. You say you don't, but
you despise me all the same. No matter! One time I entered the
garden of paradise--it was to weed the onion beds with my mother!
Near the orchard stood a Turkish pavilion, shaded and overgrown
with jessamine and honeysuckle. I didn't know what it was used
for and I had never seen anything so beautiful. People passed
in and out and one day--the door was left open. I sneaked in
and beheld walls covered with pictures of kings and emperors
and there were red-fringed curtains at the windows--now you understand
what I mean--I ... I had never been in the castle and how my
thoughts leaped--and there they returned ever after. Little by
little the longing came over me to experience for once the pleasure
of--enfin, I sneaked in and was bewildered. But then I
heard someone coming--there was only one exit for the great folk,
but for me there was another, and I had to choose that. Once
out I started to run, scrambled through a raspberry hedge, rushed
over strawberry bed and came to a stop on the rose terrace. For
there I saw a figure in a white dress and white slippers and
stockings--it was you! I hid under a heap of weeds, under, you
understand, where the thistles pricked me, and lay on the damp,
rank earth. I gazed at you walking among the roses. And I thought
if it is true that the thief on the cross could enter heaven
and dwell among the angels it was strange that a pauper child
on God's earth could not go into the castle park and play with
the Countess' daughter. Oh, Miss Julie, a dog may lie on the
couch of a Countess, a horse may be caressed by a lady's hand,
but a servant--yes, yes, sometimes there is stuff enough in a
man, whatever he be, to swing himself up in the world, but how
often does that happen! But to return to the story, do you know
what I did? I ran down to the mill dam and threw myself in with
my clothes on--and was pulled out and got a thrashing. But the
following Sunday when all the family went to visit my grandmother
I contrived to stay at home; I scrubbed myself well, put on my
best clothes, such as they were, and went to church so that I
might see you. I saw you. Then I went home with my mind made
up to put an end to myself. But I wanted to do it beautifully
and without pain. Then I happened to remember that elderberry
blossoms are poisonous. I knew where there was a big elderberry
bush in full bloom and I stripped it of its riches and made a
bed of it in the oat-bin. Have you ever noticed how smooth and
glossy oats are? As soft as a woman's arm. -- Well, I got in
and let down the cover, fell asleep, and when I awoke I was very
ill, but didn't die--as you see. What I wanted--I don't know.
You were unattainable, but through the vision of you I was made
to realize how hopeless it was to rise above the conditions of
my birth.
MORE
MONOLOGUES BY AUGUST STRINDBERG |
