and I should share with my cook, and be the rival of my own
servant. Oh! Oh! Oh!--You think I am a coward and want to run away!
No, now I'll stay--and let the lightning strike! My father will
come home--will find his chiffonier opened--the money gone! Then
he'll ring--twice for the valet--and then he'll send for the
sheriff--and then I shall tell everything! Everything! Oh, but it
will be good to get an end to it--if it only be the end! And then
his heart will break, and he dies!--So there will be an end to all
of us--and all will be quiet—peace--eternal rest!--And then the
coat of arms will be shattered on the coffin--and the count's line
will be wiped out--but the lackey's line goes on in the orphan
asylum--wins laurels in the gutter, and ends in jail.

JEAN. There spoke the royal blood! Bravo, Miss Julia! Now you put
the miller back in his sack!

[CHRISTINE enters dressed for church and carrying n hymn-book in
her hand.]

JULIA. [Hurries up to her and throws herself into her arms ax if
seeking protection] Help me, Christine! Help me against this man!

CHRISTINE. [Unmoved and cold] What kind of performance is this on
the Sabbath morning? [Catches sight of the chopping-block] My, what
a mess you have made!--What's the meaning of all this? And the way
you shout and carry on!

JULIA. You are a woman, Christine, and you are my friend. Beware of
that scoundrel!