Mrs. Muskat
Good-bye.
Julie
Good-bye. [Mrs. Muskat exits. Julie puts the candle on the table near Liliom's head, sits on the edge of the stretcher, looks into the dead man's face and caresses it tenderly.] Sleep, Liliom, sleep—it's no business of hers—I never even told you—but now I'll tell you—now I'll tell you—you bad, quick-tempered, rough, unhappy, wicked—dear boy—sleep peacefully, Liliom—they can't understand how I feel—I can't even explain to you—not even to you—how I feel—you'd only laugh at me—but you can't hear me any more. [Between tender motherliness and reproach, yet with great love in her voice.] It was wicked of you to beat me—on the breast and on the head and face—but you're gone now.—You treated me badly—that was wicked of you—but sleep peacefully, Liliom—you bad, bad boy, you—I love you—I never told you before—I was ashamed—but now I've told you—I love you. Liliom—sleep—my boy—sleep. [She rises, gets a Bible, sits down near the candle and reads softly to herself, so that, not the words, but an inarticulate murmur is heard. The Carpenter enters at back.]
Carpenter
[Stands near the door; in the dimness of the room he can scarcely be seen.] Miss Julie
