John. I? Do you really suggest that I meant that? Don’t you think I’d have felt it already long ago?

Julie. What phrases to be sure, and what thoughts!

John. That’s what I learned and that’s what I am. But just keep your nerve and don’t play the fine lady. We’ve got into a mess and we’ve got to get out of it. Look here, my girl. Come here, I’ll give you an extra glass, my dear. [He opens the sideboard, takes out the bottle of wine and fills two of the dirty glasses.]

Julie. Where did you get the wine from?

John. The cellar.

Julie. My father’s Burgundy!

John. Is it too good for his son-in-law? I don’t think!

Julie. And I’ve been drinking beer!

John. That only shows that you’ve got worse taste than me.

Julie. Thief!

John. Want to blab?

Julie. Oh, oh! the accomplice of a house-thief. I drank too much last night and I did things in my dream. Midsummer Night, the feast of innocent joys John. Innocent! Hm!

Julie. [Walks up and down.] Is there at this moment a human being as unhappy as I am?

John. Why are you? After such a fine conquest. Just think of Christine in there, don’t you think she’s got feelings as well?

Julie. I used to think so before, but I don’t think so any more—no, a servant’s a servant

John. And a whore’s a whore.

Julie. O God in heaven! Take my miserable life! Take me out of this filth in which I’m sinking. Save me, save me!

John. I can’t gainsay but that you make me feel sorry. Once upon a time when I lay in the onion bed and saw you in the rose garden then—I’ll tell you straight—I had the same dirty thoughts as all youngsters.