The Complete Plays of J. M. Barrie - 30 Titles in One Edition. Джеймс Барри

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СКАЧАТЬ To Parliament I one time went

       The front bench to enlighten,

       I thought I’d try to prove that I

       Could still the members frighten.

       So up I rose, and struck the pose,

       And shouted, “Name and college!”

       Oh, run did they from me that day,

       When I cried “Name and college!”

      ALL. Name and college! Name and college!

      PROCTOR. Comedians may forget their part,

       Librettists that it rhymes with heart;

       Composers may themselves forget

       When ragged rhymes they’re asked to set;

       The Savoy opera singer e’en

       Forget that on his head he’s been;

       But none who of its gist have knowledge,

       Can e’er forget my “Name and college.”

       [Re-enter MISS SIMS.] JANE ANNIE listens from balcony.

      MISS S. Dear friend, you have not yet told me the reason for this visit, and I cannot hope that you have called merely because of our old friendship.

      PROCTOR. Our more than friendship.

       They sigh. BULLDOGS sigh, and PROCTOR glares at them.

      GREG (rebelliously). We have our feelings.

      PROCTOR. But I object to your having feelings.

      SIM (signing to GREG to control himself). Then we haven’t.

      PROCTOR. Are they still following me?

      GREG and SIM (going to window). They are gone!

      PROCTOR. Ha!

      MISS S. What is it, dear friend?

      PROCTOR. It is the penalty of greatness. You have heard that a Chair of New Journalism has been established at the University. There has been no peace for me since. The Press Students follow me, interview me, describe me. You see, honours can now be got in this department, and they are all anxious to take the first “first class” in journalism.

      GREG. Besides, they feel that if they don’t hurry up, some lady student will take it before them.

      MISS S. It is a way that lady students have.

      PROCTOR. But it was duty brought me here. I have private information that an undergraduate named Findlater — popularly known as Tom, is carrying on a — a — a —

      GREG. A flirtation.

      PROCTOR. A — a flirtation — (He is reluctant to take the word from GREG, but can think of no other. GREG is triumphant.) — with a certain — certain — one of these — ah! what do you call those little things that grow into women?

      GREG. A girl.

      PROCTOR (annoyed). A — a — girl — in this seminary.

      MISS S. Impossible! Could it be Bab?

      GREG. Bab was the name.

      PROCTOR glares at GREG, with whom SIM expostulates in dumb show.

      JANE A. (aside). Tom! Tom! But I am sure the naughty word I heard her say was Jack! (Exit JANE ANNIE.)

      PROCTOR. Tom is coming to serenade her from this hall window. Now I have come here to watch, and if he is guilty, to have him sent down. Ha! ha! conceive his discomfiture when he climbs up to this window and is met — not by his sweetheart — but my cry of —

      GREG. Name and college.

      SIM (quaking). I don’t know what is to become of him! (To

      GREG.) Don’t be so dashed independent!

      PROCTOR (fiercely). Watch at the windows!

      BULLDOGS go to windows.

      MISS S. Dear friend, you must be mistaken.

      PROCTOR. Mistaken? I am a Proctor. Besides, if you are so confident, you cannot complain of my putting the matter to the proof, and I propose watching here. Where can I hide?

      MISS S. (pointing to clock). Do you think you could get into this?

      PROCTOR. The clock! Why not? I can just do it.

      MISS S. Good. And I shall watch downstairs, for I know that my school can triumphantly stand the test.

      DUET. — MISS SIMS and PROCTOR.

      MISS SIMS. Strictly tended plants are mine,

       Breakfast early, bed at nine —

      PROCTOR. Plants that need some watching.

      MISS SIMS. Their regard for beauty slight is,

       Mental charm their chief delight is —

      PROCTOR. Mischief ever hatching.

      MISS SIMS. Flirt’s a word at which they frown,

       Man they know is but a noun —

      PROCTOR. A noun they can’t decline.

      MISS SIMS. Eyes they never use amiss,

       When they take the air like this,

       In a maiden line. (Business.)

      PROCTOR. Yet I take this information

       With some mental reservation,

       And I think it most imprudent,

       Thus to fire the callow student,

       Or the young divine.

      MISS SIMS. Helpful books they read — not Gyp,

       But the courting scenes they skip —

      PROCTOR. Or at least they say so.

      MISS SIMS. If the heroine who charms

       Sinks into her lover’s arms —

      PROCTOR. They hope to be some day so.

      MISS SIMS. No, their comment prim and terse is,

       Namely “What a hard plight hers is!”

      PROCTOR. Oh, this is quite too fine!

      MISS SIMS. And mankind with scorn they view,

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