by Unknown
MR. DARLING (implying that he has searched for her everywhere and that the nursery is a strange place in which to find her). Oh, here you are, Mary.
MRS. DARLING (knowing at once what is the matter). What is the matter, George dear?
MR. DARLING (as if the word were monstrous). Matter! This tie, it will not tie. (He waxes sarcastic.) Not round my neck. Round the bed-post, oh yes; twenty times have I made it up round the bed-post, but round my neck, oh dear no; begs to be excused.
MICHAEL (in a joyous transport). Say it again, father, say it again!
MR. DARLING (witheringly). Thank you. (Goaded by asuspiciously crooked smile on MRS. DARLING’S face) I warn you, Mary, that unless this tie is round my neck we don’t goout to dinner tonight, and if I don’t go out to dinner tonight I never go to the office again, and if I don’t go to the office again you and I starve, and our children will be thrown into the streets.
(The children blanch as they grasp the gravity of the situation.)
MRS. DARLING. Let me try, dear.
(In a terrible silence their progeny cluster round them. Will she succeed? Their fate depends on it. She fails — no, she succeeds. In another moment they are wildly gay, romping round the room on each other’s shoulders. Father is even a better horse than mother. MICHAEL is dropped upon his bed, WENDY retires to prepare for hers, JOHN runs from NANA, who has reappeared with the bath towel.)
JOHN (rebellious). I won’t be bathed. You needn’t think it.
MR. DARLING (in the grand manner). Go and be bathed at once, sir.
(With bent head JOHN follows NANA into the bathroom. MR. DARLING swells.)
MICHAEL (as he is put between the sheets). Mother, how did you get to know me?
MR. DARLING. A little less noise there.
MICHAEL (growing solemn). At what time was I born, mother?
MRS. DARLING. At two o’clock in the night-time, dearest.
MICHAEL. Oh, mother, I hope I didn’t wake you.
MRS. DARLING. They are rather sweet, don’t you think,George?
MR. DARLING (doting). There is not their equal on earth, and they are ours, ours!
(Unfortunately NANA has come from the bathroom for a sponge and she collides with his trousers) the first pair he has ever had with braid on them.)
MR. DARLING. Mary, it is too bad; just look at this; covered with hairs. Clumsy, clumsy!
(NANA goes, a drooping figure.)
MRS. DARLING. Let me brush you, dear.
(Once more she is successful. They are now by the fire, and MICHAEL is in bed doing idiotic things with a teddy bear.)
MR. DARLING (depressed). I sometimes think, Mary, that it is a mistake to have a dog for a nurse.
MRS. DARLING. George, Nana is a treasure.
MR. DARLING. No doubt; but I have an uneasy feeling at times that she looks upon the children as puppies.
MRS. DARLING (rather faintly). Oh no, dear one, I am sure she knows they have souls.
MR. DARLING (profoundly). I wonder, I wonder.
(The opportunity has come for her to tell him of something that is on her mind.)
MRS. DARLING. George, we must keep Nana. I will tell you why. (Her seriousness impresses him.) My dear, when I came into this room tonight I saw a face at the window.
MR. DARLING (incredulous). A face at the window, three floors up? Pooh!
MRS. DARLING. It was the face of a little boy; he was trying to get in. George, this is not the first time I have seen that boy.
MR. DARLING (beginning to think that this may be a man’s job). Oho!
MRS. DARLING (making sure that MICHAEL does not hear). The first time was a week ago. It was Nana’s night out, and I had been drowsing here by the fire when suddenly I felt a draught, as if the window were open. I looked round and I saw that boy — in the room.
MR. DARLING. In the room?
MRS. DARLING. I screamed. Just then Nana came back and she at once sprang at him. The boy leapt for the window. She pulled down the sash quickly, but was too late to catch him.
MR. DARLING (who knows he would not have been too late). I thought so!
MRS. DARLING. Wait. The boy escaped, but his shadow had not time to get out; down came the window and cut it clean off.
MR. DARLING (heavily). Mary, Mary, why didn’t you keep that shadow?
MRS. DARLING (scoring). I did. I rolled it up, George; and here it is.
(She produces it from a drawer. They unroll and examine the flimsy thing, which is not more material than a puff of smoke, and if let go would probably float into the ceiling without discolouring it. Yet it has human shape. As they nod their heads over it they present the most satisfying picture on earth, two happy parents conspiring cosily by the fire for the good of their children.)
MR. DARLING. It is nobody I know, but he does look ascoundrel.
MRS. DARLING. I think he comes back to get his shadow,George.
MR. DARLING (meaning that the miscreant has now a father to deal with). I dare say. (He sees himself telling the story to the other stools at the office.) There is money in this, my love. I shall take it to the British Museum tomorrow and have it priced.
(The shadow is rolled up and replaced in the drawer.)
MRS. DARLING (like a guilty person). George, I have not told you all; I am afraid to.
MR. DARLING (who knows exactly the right moment to treat a woman as a beloved child). Cowardy, cowardy custard.
MRS. DARLING (pouting). No, I ‘m not.
MR. DARLING. Oh yes, you are.
MRS. DARLING. George, I ‘m not.
MR. DARLING. Then why not tell? (Thus cleverly soothed she goes on.)
MRS. DARLING. The boy was not alone that first time. He was accompanied by — I don’t know how to describe it; by a ball of light, not as big as my fist, but it darted about the room like a living thing.
MR. DARLING (though open-minded). That is very unusual. It escaped with the boy?
MRS. DARLING. Yes. (Sliding her hand into his.) George, what can all this mean?
MR. DARLING (ever ready). What indeed!
(This intimate scene is broken by the return of NANA with a bottle in her mouth.)
MRS. DARLING (at once dissembling). What is that, Nana? Ah, of course; Michael, it is your medicine.
MICHAEL (promptly). Won’t take it.
MR. DARLING (recalling his youth). Be a man, Michael.
MICHAEL. Won’t.
MRS. DARLING (weakly). I’ll get you a lovely chocky to take after it. (She leaves the room, though her husband calls after her.)
MR. DARLING. Mary, don’t pamper him. When I was your age, Michael, I took medicine without a murmur. I said ‘Thank you, kind parents, for giving me bottles to make me well.’
(WENDY, who has appeared in her nightgown, hears this and believes.)
WENDY. That medicine you sometimes take is much nastier, isn’t it, father?
MR. DARLING (valuing her support). Ever so much nastier.And as an example to you, Michael, I would take it now (thankfully) if I hadn’t lost the bottle.
WENDY (always glad to be of service). I know where itis, father. I’ll fetch it.
(She is gone before he can stop her. He turns for help to JOHN, who has come from the bathroom attired for bed.)
MR. DARLING. John, it is the most beastly stuff. It is that sticky sweet kind.
JOHN (who is perhaps still playing at parents). Never mind, father, it will soon be over.
(A spasm of ill-will to JOHN cuts through MR. DARLING, and is gone. WENDY returns panting.)
WENDY. Here it is, father; I have been as quick as I could.
MR. DARLING (with a sarcasm that is completely thrown away on her). You have been wonderfully quick, precious quick!
(He is now at the foot of MICHAEL’S bed, NANA is by its side, holding the medicine spoon insinuatingly in her mouth.)
WENDY (proudly, as she pours out MR. DARLING’S medicine). Michael, now you will see how father takes it.
MR. DARLING (hedging). Micha
el first.
MICHAEL (full of unworthy suspicions). Father first.
MR. DARLING. It will make me sick, you know.
JOHN (lightly). Come on, father.
MR. DARLING. Hold your tongue, sir.
WENDY (disturbed). I thought you took it quite easily, father, saying ‘Thank you, kind parents, for —— —’
MR. DARLING. That is not the point; the point is that there is more in my glass than in Michael’s spoon. It isn’t fair, I swear though it were with my last breath, it is not fair.
MICHAEL (coldly). Father, I’m waiting.
MR. DARLING. It’s all very well to say you are waiting; soam I waiting.
MICHAEL. Father ‘s a cowardy custard.
MR. DARLING. So are you a cowardy custard.
(They are now glaring at each other.)
MICHAEL. I am not frightened.
MR. DARLING. Neither am I frightened.
MICHAEL. Well, then, take it.
MR. DARLING. Well, then, you take it.
WENDY (butting in again). Why not take it at the same time?
MR. DARLING (haughtily). Certainly. Are you ready, Michael?
WENDY (as nothing has happened). One — two — three.
(MICHAEL partakes, but MR. DARLING resorts to hanky-panky.)
JOHN. Father hasn’t taken his!
(MICHAEL howls.)
WENDY (inexpressibly pained). Oh father!
MR. DARLING (who has been hiding the glass behind him).What do you mean by ‘oh father’? Stop that row, Michael. I meant to take mine but I — missed it. (NANA shakes her head sadly over him, and goes into the bathroom. They are all looking as if they did not admire him, and nothing so dashes a temperamental man.) I say, I have just thought of a splendid joke. (They brighten.) I shall pour my medicine into Nana’s bowl, and she will drink it thinking it is milk! The pleasantry does not appeal, but he prepares the joke, listening for appreciation.)
WENDY. Poor darling Nana!
MR. DARLING. You silly little things; to your beds everyone of you; I am ashamed of you.
(They steal to their beds as MRS. DARLING returns with the chocolate.)
MRS. DARLING. Well, is it all over?
MICHAEL. Father didn’t —— (Father glares.)
MR. DARLING. All over, dear, quite satisfactorily. (NANA comes back.) Nana, good dog, good girl; I have put a little milk into your bowl. (The bowl is by the kennel, and NANA begins to lap, only begins. She retreats into the kennel.)
MRS. DARLING. What is the matter, Nana?
MR. DARLING (uneasily). Nothing, nothing.
MRS. DARLING (smelling the bowl). George, it is your medicine!
(The children break into lamentation. He gives his wife an imploring look; he is begging for one smile, but does not get it. In consequence he goes from bad to worse.)
MR. DARLING. It was only a joke. Much good my wearing myself to the bone trying to be funny in this house.
WENDY (on her knees by the kennel). Father, Nana is crying.
MR. DARLING. Coddle her; nobody coddles me. Oh dear no. I am only the breadwinner, why should I be coddled? Why, why, why?
MRS. DARLING. George, not so loud; the servants will hearyou.
(There is only one maid, absurdly small too, but they have got into the way of calling her the servants.)
MR. DARLING (defiant). Let them hear me; bring in the whole world. ( The desperate man, who has not been in fresh air for days, has now lost all self-control.) I refuse to allow that dog to lord it in my nursery for one hour longer. (NANA supplicates him.) In vain, in vain, the proper place for you is the yard, and there you go to be tied up this instant.
(NANA again retreats into the kennel, and the children add their prayers to hers.)
MRS. DARLING (who knows how contrite he will be for this presently). George, George, remember what I told you about that boy.
MR. DARLING. Am I master in this house or is she? (To NANA fiercely) Come along. (He thunders at her, but she indicates that she has reasons not worth troubling him with for remaining where she is. He resorts to a false bonhomie.) There, there, did she think he was angry with her, poor Nana? (She wriggles a response in the affirmative.) Good Nana, pretty Nana. (She has seldom been called pretty, and it has the old effect. She plays rub-a-dub with her paws, which is how a dog blushes.) She will come to her kind master, won’t she? won’t she? (She advances, retreats, waggles her head, her tail, and eventually goes to him. He seizes her collar in an iron grip and amid the cries of his progeny drags her from the room. They listen, for her remonstrances are not inaudible.)
MRS. DARLING. Be brave, my dears.
WENDY. He is chaining Nana up!
(This unfortunately is what he is doing, though we cannot see him. Let us hope that he then retires to his study, looks up the word ‘temper’ in his Thesaurus, and under the influence of those benign pages becomes a better man. In the meantime the children have been put to bed in unwonted silence, and MRS. DARLING lights the night-lights over the beds.)
JOHN (as the barking below goes on). She is awfully unhappy.
WENDY. That is not Nana’s unhappy bark. That is 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 tonight.
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 tonight.
(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 bow
s to her in the fairy way. WENDY, impressed, bows to him from the bed.)