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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JULIE: We must go away, but we must talk first. That
is, I must speak, for until now you have done all the talking.
You have told me about your life--now I will tell you about mine,
then we will know each other through and through before we start
on our journey together. You see, my mother was not of noble
birth. She was brought up with ideas of equality, woman's freedom
and all that. She had very decided opinions against matrimony,
and when my father courted her she declared that she would never
be his wife--but she did so for all that. I came into the world
against my mother's wishes, I discovered, and was brought up
like a child of nature by my mother, and taught everything that
a boy must know as well; I was to be an example of a woman being
as good as a man--I was made to go about it boy's clothes and
take care of the horses and harness and saddle and hunt, and
all such things; in fact, all over the estate women servants
were taught to do men's work, with the result being that the
property came near being ruined--and so we became the laughing
stock of the countryside. At last my father must have awakened
from his bewitched condition, for he revolted and ran things
according to his ideas. My mother became ill--what it was I don't
know, but she often had cramps and acted queerly--sometimes hiding
in the attic or the orchard, and would even be gone all night
at times. Then came the big fire which of course you have heard
about. The house, the stables--everything was burned, under circumstances
that pointed strongly to an incendiary, for the misfortune happened
the day after the quarterly insurance was due and the premiums
sent in by my father were strangely delayed by his messenger
so that they arrived too late. My father was utterly at a loss
to know where to get money to rebuild with. Then my mother suggested
that he try to borrow from a man who had been her friend in her
youth--a brick manufacturer here in the neighborhood. My father
made the loan, but wasn't allowed to pay any interest, which
surprised him. Then the house was rebuilt. Do you know who burned
the house? [Pause] My mother. Do you know who the brick
manufacturer was? [Pause] My mother's lover. Do you know
who's money it was? [Pause] My mother's. There was no
contract. My mother had some money which she had not wished to
have in my father's keeping and therefore, she had entrusted
it to her friend's care. All this came to my father's knowledge.
He couldn't proceed against him, wasn't allowed to pay his wife's
friend, and couldn't prove that it was his wife's money. That
was my mother's revenge for his taking the reins of the establishment
into his own hands. At that time he was ready to shoot himself.
Gossip had it that he tried and failed. Well, he lived it down--and
my mother paid full penalty for her misdeed. Those were five
terrible years for me, as you can fancy. I sympathized with my
father, but I took my mother's part, for I didn't know the true
circumstances. Through her I learned to distrust and hate men,
and I swore to her never to be a man's slave.
MORE
MONOLOGUES BY AUGUST STRINDBERG |
