Christine. No. I say, I say there—
John. Yes, listen to me. It is much better for you if you do, and don’t gabble so much. Miss Julie is your mistress, and you ought to despise yourself for the same reason that you despise her.
Christine. I have always had so much self-respect
John. That you can despise others.
Christine. That I have never lowered myself below my place. Just say, if you can, that the Count’s cook had anything to do with the cattleman or the swineherd. You just try it on!
John. Quite so. You had a little something on with a nice fellow, and very lucky for you, too.
Christine. A nice fellow, to be sure, who sells the Count’s oats out of the stable.
John. You’re a nice one to talk; you get commissions from the vegetable man and ain’t above being squared by the butcher.
Christine. What?
John. And so it’s you that can’t respect your mistress any more! You—you—I don’t think!