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

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СКАЧАТЬ In a maiden line. (Business.)

      ENSEMBLE.

      { MISS SIMS. Yet he takes my wise instructions

       { With considerable deductions;

       { For such sights are bad, I know

       { For the budding medico,

       { Or the young divine.

      { PROCTOR. Yet I take Miss Sims’ instructions

       { With considerable deductions;

       { For such sights are bad, I know

       { For the budding medico,

       { Or the young divine.

      GREG. Thank you so much. What is that called?

      MISS S. It is a little thing of my own.

      GREG. How delightful!

      MISS S. I am so glad you like it.

      GREG. You sing with so much expression.

      MISS S. Do you really think so?

      GREG. Won’t you favour us with another?

      MISS S. That is the only one I know.

      GREG. How very charming! (PROCTOR orders him back to window.)

      PROCTOR. Ah me! Neither of us has forgotten the days when we were lovers. What a pity we quarrelled!

      MISS S. (questioningly). I suppose we have quite outgrown that affection?

      PROCTOR. Oh, quite. (BULLDOGS at the window make signs as if they saw someone. Soft flute is heard outside.) Ah! he comes! It is Tom! (PROCTOR gets into the clock, MISS SIMS assisting him. PROCTOR looking out.) How’s that?

      MISS S. Wonderful! If the face had hands you could pass for the clock any day. And here they are. (Puts her spectacles on PROCTOR.) There! and now I shall watch downstairs.

      PROCTOR. Hi! a moment. What have you set me at?

      MISS S. Ten past nine. (Exit.)

      PROCTOR. Now the minute hand is in my left eye and I can see nothing. I wish she had put me on half an hour.

      GREG (coming down). I beg to inform you, sir — he’s gone! Sim, where can the Proctor have vanished to?

      SIM (coming down). I am glad he isn’t here. What is to be done? We didn’t see what the Proctor expected us to see.

      GREG. Is that our fault?

      SIM. Hush! Of course it is, Greg. You will say we saw the undergraduate, eh, Greg?

      PROCTOR (aside). What?

      GREG. But we didn’t. It was a soldier we saw.

      PROCTOR (aside). Eh?

      SIM. Oh, what is to be done?

      GREG. Tell him the truth.

      SIM. Oh, Greg, don’t be so independent! Think of the time when you were a little child on your mother’s knee.

      (GREG is much affected.)

      DUET. — SIM and GREG.

      SIM. When a bulldog I became,

       Independence was my game,

       But since my course I’m steering

       By a rule that is more wise,

       For I hear with other’s hearing,

       And I see with other’s eyes.

      GREG (derisively). Tooral, looral-ly!

      SIM. That’s a risky think to say.

      GREG. It’s my platform, I reply.

      SIM. Platforms, Greg, are cheap to-day.

      GREG. Which nobody can deny.

       Man’s a man for a’ that, Sim.

      SIM. For a what? say I,

      GREG. For a that.

      SIM. A that? what’s that?

      GREG (after reflecting). Tooral, looral-ly!

      BOTH. Up with caps and freedom hail!

       Here’s the new election cry;

       Man’s a man if born a male,

       Tooral, looral, looral-ly!

      GREG. Proc’s are spry, but I see through them!

       I’m the man that will undo them!

       With a wit like razors’ edges,

       Twit them in the ‘Varsitee;

       This the thin edge of the wedge is,

       Spell them with a little p.

      SIM (derisively). Tooral, looral-ly!

      GREG. Culture’s fudge — see how I flout it,

      SIM. Culture doesn’t pay, that’s why;

      GREG. We reformers do without it,

      SIM. Which nobody can deny.

      GREG. Mad you are, my friend, go to!

      SIM. Go to where? say I,

      GREG. The missing word I leave to you.

      SIM (after reflecting). Tooral, looral-ly!

      BOTH. Up with caps and freedom hail!

       Here’s the new election cry;

       Man’s a man if born a male,

       Tooral, looral, looral-ly!

      DANCE.

      Boots are placed outside the doors at this point. The BULLDOGS look scared, and exeunt downstairs.

      Enter CADDIE. He collects boots in a laundress’s basket. The boots he loves are not among them. He is distressed. JANE ANNIE’s door opens and she puts out her boots. He is elated and goes for them. While he is getting them BAB’s arm appears outside her door, groping for her boots. As she doesn’t find then she comes out and looks for them. She sees basket, glides to it unseen by CADDIE, picks out her boots and exit with them. CADDIE returns with JANE ANNIE’s boots, fondling them. He sits down on basket and kisses them. Then he rises and tries to drop them among the others. This strikes him as sacrilege. He shakes his head, then ties the laces of JANE ANNIE’s boots СКАЧАТЬ