Instructions aux domestiques

Domestics, people of little, little people, lower class, proletarians before their time, before the word, secondary roles, utilities, rats and stooges, slaves.
Below, in the back, downstairs, in the cellar, or in the loft, sleeping in the shed, the passageways, circulating elsewhere, parallel world, secret passages, back stairs and back entrance, waiting in the pantry, the kitchen, for someone to ring their bell, whistle, popping up from anywhere and vanishing immediately.
And dirty, clean of nothing, vicious, mean and stupid, and the worst kind of stupid, coming from far away from unfulfilled hatred, and full of humor of course, "the inevitable politeness of despair", full of humor, terrible, fierce, corrosive (and really corrosive; liter of acid in hand and knife between teeth), dangerous and stupid.
Without dreams, without envy, insults to Rousseau, not revolutionaries for a glass of wine, forerunners of nothing, petty at best, petty masters in their turn, harder still, crushing and hitting hard, cats, dogs, poor children, kitchen girls, taking advantage when they can and cowards, so cowardly when punishment threatens.
In the service of.
Until the end of time, of night, rehashing some miserable and vain revenge, responding to humiliation with a grimace, childish, ("my girl" , "my boy" ), sticking their tongues out at the master's back...

Jean-Luc Lagarce