The Greatest Works of J. M. Barrie: 90+ Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). James Matthew Barrie

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СКАЧАТЬ her bark when she smells danger.

      MRS. DARLING (remembering that boy). Danger! Are you sure, Wendy?

      WENDY (the one of the family, for there is one in every family, who can be trusted to know or not to know). Oh yes.

      (Her mother looks this way and that from the window.)

      JOHN. Is anything there?

      MRS. DARLING. All quite quiet and still. Oh, how I wish I was not going out to dinner to-night.

      MICHAEL. Can anything harm us, mother, after the night-lights are lit?

      MRS. DARLING. Nothing precious. They are the eyes amother leaves behind her to guard her children.

      (Nevertheless we may be sure she means to tell LIZA, the little maid, to look in on them frequently till she comes home. She goes from bed to bed, after her custom, tucking them in and crooning a lullaby.)

      MICHAEL (drowsily). Mother, I 'm glad of you.

      MRS. DARLING (with a last look round, her hand on the switch). Dear night-lights that protect my sleeping babes, burn clear and steadfast to-night.

      (The nursery darkens and she is gone, intentionally leaving the door ajar. Something uncanny is going to happen, we expect, for a quiver has passed through the room, just sufficient to touch the night-lights. They blink three times one after the other and go out, precisely as children (whom familiarity has made them resemble) fall asleep. There is another light in the room now, no larger than MRS. DARLING'S fist, and in the time we have taken to say this it has been into the drawers and wardrobe and searched pockets, as it darts about looking for a certain shadow. Then the window is blown open, probably by the smallest and therefore most mischievous star, and PETER PAN flies into the room. In so far as he is dressed at all it is in autumn leaves and cobwebs.)

      PETER (in a whisper). Tinker Bell, Tink, are you there? (A jug lights up.) Oh, do come out of that jug. (TINKflashes hither and thither?) Do you know where they put it? (The answer comes as of a tinkle of bells; it is the fairy language. PETER can speak it, but it bores him.) Which big box? This one? But which drawer? Yes, do show me. (TINK pops into the drawer where the shadow is, but beforePETER can reach it, WENDY moves in her sleep. He flies onto the mantelshelf as a hiding-place. Then, as she has not waked, he flutters over the beds as an easy way to observe the occupants, closes the window softly, wafts himself to the drawer and scatters its contents to the floor, as kings on their wedding day toss ha'pence to the crowd. In his joy at finding his shadow he forgets that he has shut up TINK in the drawer. He sits on the floor with the shadow, confident that he and it will join like drops of water. Then he tries to stick it on with soap from the bathroom, and this failing also, he subsides dejectedly on the floor. This wakens WENDY, who sits up, and is pleasantly interested to see a stranger.)

      WENDY (courteously). Boy, why are you crying?

      (He jump up, and crossing to the foot of the bed bows to her in the fairy way. WENDY, impressed, bows to him from the bed.)

      PETER. What is your name?

      WENDY (well satisfied). Wendy Moira Angela Darling.What is yours?

      PETER (finding it lamentably brief). Peter Pan.

      WENDY. Is that all?

      PETER (biting his lip). Yes.

      WENDY (politely). I am so sorry.

      PETER. It doesn't matter.

      WENDY. Where do you live?

      PETER. Second to the right and then straight on till morning.

      WENDY. What a funny address!

      PETER. No, it isn't.

      WENDY. I mean, is that what they put on the letters?

      PETER. Don't get any letters.

      WENDY. But your mother gets letters?

      PETER. Don't have a mother.

      WENDY. Peter!

      (She leaps out of bed to put her arms round him, but he draws back; he does not know why, but he knows he must draw back.)

      PETER. You mustn't touch me.

      WENDY. Why?

      PETER. No one must ever touch me.

      WENDY. Why?

      PETER. I don't know.

      (He is never touched by any one in the play.)

      WENDY. No wonder you were crying.

      PETER. I wasn't crying. But I can't get my shadow to stick on.

      WENDY. It has come off! How awful. (Looking at the spot where he had lain.) Peter, you have been trying to stick it on with soap!

      PETER (snappily). Well then?

      WENDY. It must be sewn on.

      PETER. What is 'sewn'?

      WENDY. You are dreadfully ignorant.

      PETER. No, I 'm not.

      WENDY. I will sew it on for you, my little man. But we must have more light. (She touches something, and to his astonishment the room is illuminated.) Sit here. I dare say it will hurt a little.

      PETER (a recent remark of hers rankling). I never cry. (She seems to attach the shadow. He tests the combination.) It isn't quite itself yet.

      WENDY. Perhaps I should have ironed it. (It awakes and is as glad to be back with him as he to have it. He and his shadow dance together. He is showing off now. He crows like a cock. He would fly in order to impress WENDY further if he knew that there is anything unusual in that.)

      PETER. Wendy, look, look; oh the cleverness of me!

      WENDY. You conceit, of course I did nothing!

      PETER. You did a little.

      WENDY (wounded). A little! If I am no use I can at least withdraw.

      (With one haughty leap she is again in bed with the sheet over her face. Popping on to the end of the bed the artful one appeals.)

      PETER. Wendy,. don't withdraw. I can't help crowing, Wendy, when I'm pleased with myself. Wendy, one girl is worth more than twenty boys.

      WENDY (peeping over the sheet). You really think so, Peter?

      PETER. Yes, I do.

      WENDY. I think it's perfectly sweet of you, and I shall get up again. (They sit together on the side of the bed.) I shall give you a kiss if you like.

      PETER. Thank you. (He holds out his hand.)

      WENDY (aghast). Don't you know what a kiss is?

      PETER. I shall know when you give it me. (Not to hurt his feelings she gives him her thimble.) Now shall I give youa kiss?

      WENDY СКАЧАТЬ