Miss Julie

Full Text and Introduction (NHB Drama Classics)

August Strindberg

• Éditeur: Nick Hern Books
• Année: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781780014265
• Sujet: Literatura
• Sous-sujet: Arte dramático

The NHB Drama Classics series presents the world's greatest plays in affordable, highly readable editions for students, actors and theatregoers. The hallmarks of the series are accessible introductions (focussing on the play's theatrical and historical background, together with an author biography, key dates and suggestions for further reading) and the complete text, uncluttered with footnotes. The translations, by leading experts in the field, are accurate and above all actable. The editions of English-language plays include a glossary of unusual words and phrases to aid understanding.

Strindberg's Miss Julie is perhaps his most famous play. Bored with her sheltered existence, Miss Julie attempts to seduce the footman, but gets far more than she bargained for. This Drama Classics edition is translated and introduced by Kenneth McLeish, and also includes the author's Preface to the play.

Miss Julie

A large kitchen. Its walls and ceiling are hidden by draperies and hangings. The rear wall runs diagonally across the stage, down left to up right. On its left-side end are two shelves covered with scalloped paper and carrying metal utensils of all kinds. Right we can see two thirds of a big arched entrance with glass double-doors, beyond which is a garden with an Eros fountain, lilacs in bloom and tall poplars. Onstage left, one corner of a large cooking-range, part of its hood showing. Right, one end of a big kitchen table with chairs. The range is hung with birch-bundles and the floor is strewn with juniper; a tall japanese vase on the table is filled with lilac. Ice-box, dresser, sink. Above the door, an old-fashioned service-bell on a spring; left of the door, a speaking tube. KRISTIN is standing by the stove, cooking something in a frying-pan. She wears a light summer dress and a cook’s apron. Enter JEAN. He is in uniform, and carries a pair of riding-boots with spurs, which he puts down prominently on the floor.

JEAN. She’s wild again tonight. Miss Julie. Wild.

KRISTIN. Back, are you?

JEAN. I took his Lordship to the station. Came back past the barn. Went in for a dance. There she was, Miss Julie, with the gamekeeper, leading the dancing. As soon as she saw me, up she runs, straight into my arms. ‘It’s a ladies’ excuse me. Dance with me!’ You should have seen her … the way she danced. Completely wild.

KRISTIN. She’s always been wild. But worse these last few days, since her engagement finished.

JEAN. Ha! That business! He wasn’t rich, but apart from that … They’re all peculiar.

He sits at the table.

Don’t you think it’s odd? A young lady like her, a lord’s daughter … she’d rather stay here with the staff than go with her father to visit her cousins? Tonight of all nights: Midsummer Night.

KRISTIN. She’s probably embarrassed. That business with her fiancé.

JEAN. I’ll bet. Mind you, he gave as good as he got. As a matter of fact … don’t tell anyone … I saw it, all of it.

KRISTIN. You didn’t.

JEAN. In the stableyard, the other afternoon. She was training him. That’s what she called it. Unbelievable. She held out her riding crop, made him jump over it. Like a puppy dog. Hup-la! Hup-la! Twice he jumped, and twice she walloped him. The third time, he grabs the whip, smacks her face, and goes.

KRISTIN. That’s why she’s wearing all that makeup.

JEAN. Come on, Kristin, what’s for supper? Anything worth having?

KRISTIN (serving him from the frying-pan). Kidney. His Lordship had cutlets; Monsieur Jean gets the kidneys.

JEAN. Magnifique! Délicieux! (As he feels the plate.) How many times do I have to tell you? Warm the plate.

KRISTIN. Don’t start. You’re worse than his Lordship.

She strokes his hair fondly.

JEAN (irritably). Don’t do that. You know I’m ticklish.

KRISTIN. Suit yourself.

He eats. She fetches a bottle of beer.

JEAN. Beer? On Midsummer Night? No thanks. I’ve something far better.

He opens a drawer and takes out a bottle of wine with a gold seal.

Gold seal, look, no rubbish. Fetch a glass. A goblet. This is for savouring.

KRISTIN. God help the woman you marry. You never stop.

She puts a small pan on the range.

JEAN. You’ll be glad enough to get me. I mean, look at me. It’s done you no harm, being known as my intended.

He tastes the wine.

Not bad. Not bad at all. Perhaps a shade more chambré.

He warms the glass in his hands.

We bought this in Dijon. Four francs a litre, straight from the barrel. Plus tax, naturally. What on earth is that? It stinks.

KRISTIN. Something foul Miss Julie ordered. For Diana.

JEAN. Hey, cheeky. Oh, I don’t know. It is a holiday. Why should you have to stand and cook for that stupid dog? Don’t tell me it’s ill.

KRISTIN. Ill, ha! She’s been at it with that mongrel at the lodge, and now she’s … Miss Julie won’t have it.

JEAN. Won’t have it! The things she’ll have and the things she won’t. She’s just like her mother, d’you remember? Her Ladyship, God rest her, spent all her time in the kitchen or the cowshed, but she never rode out without a carriage and pair. Dirty blouses, but a coronet on every button. The daughter’s just the same. Milady Julia. Does just as she likes. No keep-your-distance. In the barn just now, she grabs the gamekeeper from Anna and makes him dance with her. We wouldn’t be so … But when fine folk let themselves go, they let themselves go. Mind you, she’s pretty enough. Nice … good shoulders, fine pair of …

KRISTIN. You’re joking. Klara dresses her, and she says –

JEAN. Klara! You’re all the same. Jealous. I’ve ridden with her. I’ve danced with her.

KRISTIN. And you’ll dance with me too, won’t you? Jean? Monsieur Jean? When I’ve finished this?

JEAN. I said so, didn’t I?

KRISTIN. Cross your heart?

JEAN. When Jean says he’ll do a thing, he does it. Well, thanks for the kidneys. Very nice.

He corks the bottle. We hear MISS JULIE at the door.

MISS JULIE. I won’t be long. No need to wait.

JEAN puts the bottle in its drawer, and gets up respectfully as MISS JULIE comes in and goes to KRISTIN at the range.

MISS JULIE. Is it done yet?

KRISTIN gestures to her that JEAN is there.

JEAN (roguishly). Secrets? If you ladies have secrets …

MISS JULIE (flicking his face with her kerchief). You’ll never know.

JEAN. Violets! Ah, heaven!

MISS JULIE (flirting). My, my, first dancing, now perfume! None of your business. No peeping.

JEAN (also flirting, but carefully). One of those witches’ brews ladies make on Midsummer Eve? Fortune-telling? Hubble, bubble, show me the man I’ll marry?

MISS JULIE (sharply). You won’t see that in a cooking pot. (To KRISTIN.) Put it in a bottle. Cork it properly. Jean, there’s a polka next. Dance with me.

JEAN (hesitating). I don’t want to be … It’s just … I promised Kristin I’d …

MISS JULIE. She can have the next one. Isn’t that right, Kristin? You don’t mind if I borrow him?

KRISTIN. As your Ladyship pleases. It’s not for us to … Jean, get along. Be grateful.

JEAN. The thing is … I’m not being impertinent … but has your Ladyship thought what people might say … ? The same beau, two dances in the same evening. You know what people are like.

MISS JULIE (flaring). Like? What d’you mean, they’re like?

JEAN (respectfully). It’s just that … if your Ladyship favours one of her servants more than all the others, when each of them expects her to –

MISS JULIE. Favours? What are you talking about? I’m the mistress. If I choose to go to the servants’ ball, I can surely dance with anyone I choose. Someone who knows the steps, for example, and doesn’t make me look ridiculous.

JEAN. As your Ladyship pleases.

MISS JULIE (gently). It’s not an order. This is a holiday. We should be enjoying ourselves, not fussing about mistresses and servants. Give me your arm. It’s all right, Kristin. He’s your intended; I’m not going to steal him.

JEAN offers his arm and leads her out. [Strindberg’s note: the actress should play what follows as if she were really alone, turning her back on the audience if necessary, not looking out at them or hurrying in c...