MISS JULIA turns away.]

JEAN. You should have learned how to kill chickens instead of
shooting with a revolver--[brings down the axe]--then you wouldn't
have fainted for a drop of blood.

JULIA. [Screaming] Kill me too! Kill me! You who can take the life
of an innocent creature without turning a hair! Oh, I hate and
despise you! There is blood between us! Cursed be the hour when I
first met you! Cursed be the hour when I came to life in my
mother's womb!

JEAN. Well, what's the use of all that cursing? Come on!

JULIA. [Approaching the chopping-block as if drawn to it against
her will] No, I don't want to go yet. I cannot—-I must see--Hush!
There's a carriage coming up the road. [Listening without taking
her eyes of the block and the axe] You think I cannot stand the
sight of blood. You think I am as weak as that--oh, I should like
to see your blood, your brains, on that block there. I should like
to see your whole sex swimming in blood like that thing there. I
think I could drink out of your skull, and bathe my feet in your
open breast, and eat your heart from the spit!--You think I am
weak; you think I love you because the fruit of my womb was
yearning for your seed; you think I want to carry your offspring
under my heart and nourish it with my blood--bear your children and
take your name! Tell me, you, what are you called anyhow? I have
never heard your family name—-and maybe you haven't any. I should
become Mrs. "Hovel," or Mrs. "Backyard"--you dog there, that's
wearing my collar; you lackey with my coat of arms on your buttons--