JEAN. You can't prove the contrary. We have no family record except that which the police keep. But your pedigree I have read in a book on the drawing room table. Do you know who the founder of your family was? It was a miller whose wife found favor with the king during the Danish War. Such ancestry I have not.
JULIE. This is my reward for opening my heart to anyone so unworthy, with whom I have talked about my family honor.
JEAN. Dishonor—yes, I said it. I told you not to drink because then one talks too freely and one should never talk.
JULIE. Oh, how I repent all this. If at least you loved me!
JEAN. For the last time—what do you mean? Shall I weep, shall I jump over your riding whip, shall I kiss you, lure you to Lake Como for three weeks, and then—what do you want anyway? This is getting tiresome. But that's the way it always is when you get mixed up in women's affairs. Miss Julie, I see that you are unhappy, I know that you suffer, but I can't understand you. Among my kind there is no nonsense of this sort; we love as we play when work gives us time. We haven't the whole day and night for it like you.
JULIE. You must be good to me and speak to me as though I were a human being.
JEAN. Be one yourself. You spit on me and expect me to stand it.
JULIE. Help me, help me. Only tell me what to do—show me a way out of this!
JEAN. In heaven's name, if I only knew myself.
JULIE. I have been raving, I have been mad, but is there no means of deliverance?