A monologue from the play by Eugène Brieux

NOTE: This translation by John Hankin was first published in 1907 by University Press, Cambridge. It is now a public domain work and may be performed without royalties.

JULIE: I tell you that I do not love you, and you shrug your shoulders. You say that you don't understand, but you do! Your vanity makes you try to escape, but you shall understand. You think I daren't speak, but I will. Do you suppose I will stay dumb and bear the kisses you give me, kisses which I end by returning. My lips when you kiss them draw back in repulsion and yet in the end they yield and go out to meet yours. Shall I go on? Do you understand now? You can never again imagine the tears I shed are tears of love. They are tears of remorse and misery. I hate you after your kisses. Our love is a duel in which I am worsted because what is best in me turns traitor. I blush at your victories because you could never have gained them without the help of what is base in me, without the baseness you know how to excite. It is not I who yield. It is the animal in me. It is all that is vile. I hate you for the crime of our loveless marriage, the crime you force me to share. I admit you are not the only guilty one, you are not the only one worthy of contempt. But I have had enough of it. Enough of it. I will no longer spend my days weeping over the shame of my nights. Every evening I have said I will regain my freedom. Till now I have not dared to say the words that would release me. Now I have done it. I am free.