The Greatest Works of J. M. Barrie: 90+ Titles in One Volume (Illustrated Edition)
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 (primly). If you please. (He pulls an acorn button off his person and bestows it on her. She is shocked but considerate.) I will wear it on this chain round my neck. Peter, how old are you?
PETER (blithely). I don't know, but quite young, Wendy. I ran away the day I was born.
WENDY. Ran away, why?
PETER. Because I heard father and mother talking of what I was to be when I became a man. I want always to be a little boy and to have fun; so I ran away to Kensington Gardens and lived a long time among the fairies.
WENDY (with great eyes). You know fairies, Peter!
PETER (surprised that this should be a recommendation). Yes, but they are nearly all dead now. (Baldly) You see, Wendy, when the first baby laughed for the first time, the laugh broke into a thousand pieces and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies. And now when every new baby is born its first laugh becomes a fairy. So there ought to be one fairy for every boy or girl,
WENDY (breathlessly). Ought to be? Isn't there?
PETER. Oh no. Children know such a lot now. Soon they don't believe in fairies, and every time a child says 'I don't believe in fairies' there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead. (He skips about heartlessly.)
WENDY. Poor things!
PETER. (to whom this statement recalls a forgotten friend). I can't think where she has gone. Tinker Bell, Tink, where are you?
WENDY (thrilling). Peter, you don't mean to tell me that there is a fairy in this room!
PETER (flitting about in search). She came with me. You don't hear anything, do you?
WENDY. I hear—the only sound I hear is like a tinkle of bells.
PETER. That is the fairy language. I hear it too.
WENDY. It seems to come from over there.
PETER. (with shameless glee.) Wendy, I believe I shut her up in that drawer!
(He releases TINK, who darts about in a fury using language it is perhaps as well we don't understand.)
You needn't say that; I 'm very sorry, but how could I know you were in the drawer?
WENDY (her eyes dancing in pursuit of the delicious creature). Oh, Peter, if only she would stand still and let me see her!
PETER (indifferently). They hardly ever stand still.
(To show that she can do even this TINK pauses between two ticks of the cuckoo clock.)
WENDY. I see her, the lovely! where is she now?
PETER. She is behind the clock. Tink, this lady wishes you were her fairy. (The answer comes immediately.)
WENDY. What does she say?
PETER. She is not very polite. She says you are a great ugly girl, and that she is my fairy. You know, Tink, you can't be my fairy because I am a gentleman and you are a lady.
(TINK replies.)
WENDY. What did she say?
PETER. She said 'You silly ass.' She is quite a common girl, you know. She is called Tinker Bell because she mends the fairy pots and kettles.
(They have reached a chair, WENDY in the ordinary way and PETER through a hole in the back.)
WENDY. Where do you live now?
PETER. With the lost boys.
WENDY. Who are they?
PETER. They are the children who fall out of their prams when the nurse is looking the other way. If they are not claimed in seven days they are sent far away to the Never-Land. I 'm captain.
WENDY. What fun it must be.
PETER (craftily). Yes, but we are rather lonely. You see, Wendy, we have no female companionship.
WENDY. Are none of the other children girls?
PETER. Oh no; girls, you know, are much too clever to fall out of their prams.
WENDY. Peter, it is perfectly lovely the way you talk about girls. John there just depises us. (PETER, for the first time, has a good look at JOHN. He then neatly tumbles him out of bed.)
You wicked! you are not captain here. (She bends over her brother who is prone on the floor.) After all he hasn't wakened, and you meant to be kind. (Having now done her duty she forgets JOHN, who blissfully sleep on.) Peter, you may give me a kiss.
PETER (cynically). I thought you would want it back. (He offers her the thimble.)
WENDY (artfully). Oh dear, I didn't mean a kiss, Peter. I meant a thimble.
PETER (only half placated).What is that?
WENDY. It is like this. (She leans forward to give a demonstration, but something prevents the meeting of their faces.)
PETER (satisfied). Now shall I give you a thimble?
WENDY. If you please. (Before he can even draw near she screams.)
PETER. What is it?
WENDY. It was exactly as if some one were pulling my hairl
PETER. That must have been Tink. I never knew her so naughty before.
(TINK speaks. She is in the jug again.)
WENDY. What does she say?
PETER. She says she will do that every time I give you a thimble.
WENDY. But why?
PETER (equally nonplussed). Why, Tink? (He has to translate the answer.) She said 'You silly ass' again.
WENDY. She is very impertinent. (They are sitting on the floor now.) Peter, why did you come to our nursery window?
PETER. To try to hear stories None of us knows any stories.
WENDY. How perfectly awful!
PETER. Do you know why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories. Wendy, your mother was telling you such a lovely story.
WENDY. Which story was it?
PETER. About the prince, and he couldn't find the lady who wore the glass slipper.
WENDY. That was Cinderella. Peter, he found her and they were happy ever after.
PETER. I am glad. (They have worked their way along the floor close to each other, but he now jumps up.)
WENDY. Where are you going?
PETER (already on his way to the window). To tell the other boys.
WENDY. Don't go, Peter. I know lots of stories. The stories I could tell to the boys!
PETER (gleaming). Come on! We'll fly.
WENDY. Fly? You can fly!
(How he would like to rip those stories out of her; he is dangerous now.)
PETER. Wendy, come with me.
WENDY. Oh dear, I mustn't. Think of mother. Besides, I can't fly.
PETER. I'll teach you.
WENDY. How lovely to fly!
PETER. I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back and then away we go. Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might be flying about with me, saying funny things tothe stars. There are mermaids, Wendy, with long tails. (She just succeeds in remaining on the nursery floor.) Wendy, how we should all respect you.