JEAN. I can't--There must be formality between us--as long as we
are in this house. There is the memory of the past--and there is
the Count, your father. I have never known anyone else for whom I
have such respect. I need only to see his gloves lying in a chair
to feel my own insignificance. I have only to hear his bell to
start like a nervous horse--and now as I see his boots standing
there so stiff and proper I feel like bowing and scraping. [Gives
boots a kick]. Superstitions and prejudices taught in childhood
can't be uprooted in a moment. Let us go to a country that is it
republic where they'll stand on their heads for my coachman's
livery--on their heads shall they stand--but I shall not. I am
not, born to bow and scrape, for there's stuff in me--character. If
I only get hold of the first limb, you shall see me climb. I'm a
coachman today, but next year I shall be a proprietor, in two years
a gentleman of income; then for Roumania where I'll let them
decorate me and can, mark you, _can_ end a count!

JULIE. Beautiful, beautiful!

JEAN. Oh, in Roumania, one can buy a title cheap--and so you can be
a countess just the same--my countess!

JULIE. What do I care for all that--which I now cast behind me. Say
that you love me--else, what am I, without it?

JEAN. I'll say it a thousand times afterwards, but not here. Above
all, let us have no sentimentality now or everything will fall
through. We must look at this matter coldly like sensible people.
[Takes out a cigar and lights it.] Now sit down there and I'll sit