Come now! What good is your cursing, let's be off. JULIE . 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. No, now I shall stay. The thunder may roll. My father will return--and find his desk broken into--his money gone! Then he will ring--that bell. A scuffle with his servant--then sends for the police--and then I tell all--everything! Oh, it will be beautiful to have it all over with--if only that were the end! And my father--he'll have a shock and die, and then that will be the end. Then they will place his swords across the coffin--and the Count's line is extinct. The serf's line will continue in an orphanage, win honors in the gutter and end in prison.

Jean Monologue from Miss Julie

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