by Unknown
LORD CARLTON. You’ll never be that.
MOIRA (CRUSHED). Oh! Oh! (WEEPS.)
LADY GEORGY. David — (TO MOIRA) My dear, how can you cry in the moment of your triumph?
MOIRA. I don’t want to triumph, I want to be loved. I can’t do without everybody loving me.
ELEANOR. We do love you, dear, sweet! (EMBRACING MOIRA.)
LADY georgy. Child, we adore you. (GOES ON KNEES.)
LADY MILLICENT. Moira, I’m yours until death us do part.
(KNEELS DOWN IN FRONT OF HER.)
MOIRA. DEAR. (Embraces lady millicent.) SWEET!
(Embraces lady georgy.)
LADY MILLICENT. And now, darling, tell us how you’ve done it.
MOIRA. Oh, I can’t — I dare not — Grandpa warned me. I so LONG to tell you but I dare not.
LORD CARLTON. Why do you long to tell, Moira?
MOIRA. So that I might have someone to help me.
CECIL. Miss Loney, I am that person.
LADY MILLICENT. No, Cecil, I am. I claim that right.
LADY GEORGY (RISES FROM HER KNEES). We all are. Moira, tell us and we shall carry on your noble labours. It is a solemn promise.
MOIRA. Oh, I can’t — I am afraid.
ELEANOR. Courage.
LADY GEORGY. Come, dear. (Goes to moira.)
LADY MILLICENT. DO tell us, darling. Do, dear.
(LADY MILLICENT GOES TO MOIRA ALSO.)
MOIRA. I can’t. I can’t. (SEES LORD CARLTON, GOES TO HIM.)
Do YOU ask me to tell? I shall tell if you wish it.
(ALL TAKE A STEP TOWARDS LORD CARLTON.)
LORD CARLTON. I wish it, Moira.
MOIRA. Then I shall tell.
(All give an exclamation of relief and pleasure.)
Ah — (TURNING TO LADY PLUMLEIGH) — Lady Plumleigh, may I have Grandpa here while I am telling? He would love to be here?
(eleanor and cecil give one another a look.)
LADY GEORGY (staggered, takes lady millicent’s hand for support). GRANDPA? (Looks at lady millicent; turns and looks at moira again.) BUT WHERE IS HE?
MOIRA. HE IS UPSTAIRS.
(THEY FEEL EERIE.)
LADY GEORGY. Upstairs? (LOOKS AT LADY MILLICENT.)
LADY MILLICENT (GRANDLY). Mother, we must not doubt her — consent.
LADY GEORGY (UNEASILY). Oh certainly, my dear.
MOIRA (ALARMED AGAIN). Might I have Deighton to help me I
LADY GEORGY (weakly). IF YOU WISH IT, MOIRA. (Goes up and rings bell.)
MOIRA (AT FOOT OF STAIRCASE). Oh, I do hope I am doing the right thing.
LADY MILLICENT (calling). DEIGHTON!
(Enter deighton.)
Ask him, mother.
LADY GEORGY (GASPING). Deighton, will you go upstairs with Miss Loney, and help her to — bring down her grandpapa.
(TAKES HOLD OF LORD PLUMLEIGH’S HAND FOR A SECOND.)
(moira goes upstairs, deighton is startled, but like a wellbred servant follows moira upstairs.)
ELEANOR. IT feels QUITE EERIE.
LADY MILLICENT. YES.
LORD CARLTON (;MOTIONS LADY GEORGY TO COME ROUND. THEY SIT). Don’t you think now she’s gone we might have a guess at what Little Mary is?
CECIL (SEVERELY, NOTICING SOMETHING FRIVOLOUS IN LORD CARLTON). We at least know, father, that it is something noble and beautiful.
LORD CARLTON. Good boy — You, Milly?
LADY MILLICENT. I should say it is an inner conscience. But perhaps I ought not to speak, for Moira has already told me that it is something inside us.
LORD CARLTON. Something inside us!
ELEANOR. I am convinced there is Christian Science in it.
LADY GEORGY. I know this — that ever since Moira entered this house I have felt the phenomena of active spiritual life stirred within me.
LADY MILLICENT. I feel that also — to me, uncle, Little Mary is a religion.
LORD CARLTON. Quite so. Something inside US. All I can say, ladies and gentlemen, is that I feel profoundly uneasy.
(moira enters carrying one of the volumes, No. 3, downstairs, followed by deighton with the other two. She puts hers on table, he puts his on top of them.)
MOIRA. THANK YOU, DEIGHTON.
(Exit deighton uneasily.)
This is Grandpa.
(lady georgy and all except lord carlton rise perturbed.)
LADY MILLICENT. Why not, mother? Now, Moira.
(lady GEORGY, ELEANOR, and LADY MILLICENT sit.
LADY GEORGY SUBSIDES.)
MOIRA (FAINTLY). You will go on loving me, won’t you?
LADY MILLICENT. My angel, we swear.
ELEANOR. You are making us so nervous.
MOIRA (TO LADY MILLICENT). I have done you good, haven’t I? — you can’t deny that.
LADY GEORGY. Moira, whatever it is how could we deny that?
LORD CARLTON. And so, in the name of Beelzebub, out with it.
MOIRA (TO BOOKS). Grandpa! (OPENS VOL. 1 AND ADDRESSES COMPANY) Grandpa had a profound conviction that the dear, darling English people suffer from eating too much.
CECIL. I shouldn’t wonder. I’M told the way the poor gorge on Sundays is perfectly sickening.
MOIRA. It isn’t the poor Grandpa means. He says here that what the poor do on Sundays the best people do every day of the week. They have THREE SOLID MEALS A DAY, LUNCH, DINNER, SUPPER, and that’s why they have to go to Homburg and such like places once a year, to be washed out and scraped down.
LADY GEORGY. I was never ordered to Homburg.
LORD CARLTON.! WAS.
MOIRA. Grandpa knew it would never do to tell you what was really the matter with you. You are so delicately minded. He said to me, ‘Either you must invent some milder name for their — their medium, or they will all fly from the cure.’ And so, after thinking about it for a long time, I invented the name of ‘Little Mary.’ LADY GEORGY. Moira, what is this thing?
MOIRA (WHO HAS BEEN CALM BUT IS NOW AGITATED). I hate the name as much as you do, but I must say it once — it’s the only way, oh dear — stomach.
(All rise, cecil steps back from settee with his hand on his brow.)
LADY GEORGY. You don’t dare to insinuate.
ELEANOR. Really, I never heard of such a thing.
LADY MILLICENT. Disgusting! Preposterous!
MOIRA (WHEEDLING). Please, please, and now we need never mention it again. Let us call it the organ. Oh, let us all look our organ firmly in the face, and dear England will once again be invincible as in the great Shakespearean days.
LADY GEORGY. This, this organ?
MOIRA. We all have them.
LADY GEORGY. Speak for yourself.
LADY MILLICENT. Moira — what have you been doing with MINE?
MOIRA. Dearest Milly, I know that what made you ill was the death of him you loved.
LADY MILLICENT. You do me THAT justice!
MOIRA. But you didn’t rally.
LADY MILLICENT. I thought it wicked to want to rally.
MOIRA. That was the food.
ELEANOR. Monstrous! (SITS ON SETTEE.)
MOIRA. The moment the weight was taken off the organ you began to think healthily again. You made the effort and were cured; the desire to be up and doing came to you.
(All except lord carlton say ‘OH!’ cecil indignantly turns his back to her and looks out of window.)
Grandpa discovered the amazing truth that what we are depends chiefly on what we eat.
CECIL. Never, never!
MOIRA. That WE are good or bad, stupid or enterprising, cynics or in love, mainly as the result of diet. Whatever you want to be, this book contains the recipes.
(All turn round to her.)
It’s all here, what our finest feelings are composed of.
(lady millicent and eleanor rise and step towards her moira turns over leaves of Vol. I and looks at them.)
CECIL. Not love!
MOIRA. Love IS MOSTLY PHOSPHATE OF LIME.
CECIL. FAUGH! (Turns from her and le
ans on mantelpiece.)
(lady millicent and eleanor collapse on settee and cry ‘Oh!’)
MOIRA. Lady Plumleigh, you wish Digby to be fonder of you than he is; the book tells you precisely what to give him.
LADY GEORGY. HORRIBLE!
(LADY MILLICENT AND ELEANOR TISE.)
MOIRA. Don’t go. (RUSHING TO LADY GEORGY, WHO IS GOING.)
Don’t go. Be patriots. Think of the fate of England if the working classes were to become as stupid as the best people. I want you to form a league with ‘one day one dinner’ for its motto. Grandpa calls it Home Rule for England. He foresees the time coming when all the best people will greet each other with the words ‘Good morning! How is Little Mary?’ (cecil, who is standing with back to fireplace, here embraces lady millicent and eleanor, who collapse in his arms.)
LADY GEORGY. THIS IS TOO MUCH. (Rings bell.) YOU WILL LEAVE BY THE NIGHT TRAIN.
LORD CARLTON (rises and crosses to lady georgy, thinking she is going to order moira from the house). GEORGY, WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?
LADY GEORGY (BY FOOT OF STAIRS). I have been hurt in the most sensitive place.
LORD CARLTON. Admitted! We have all been so, but only by the truth. The bitter, unpalatable truth. (PUTS HAND ON BOOK.) Grandpa, you old scoundrel! Georgy, this old Irishman, out of his passionate love for the English people, has put his finger on the spot. (TOUCHING HIS ‘ORGAN.’)
LADY GEORGY. I don’t care. I won’t stand it. I’m going to assert myself.
(Enter deighton.)
Deighton, we shall dine tonight at eight. (LOOKS AT MOIRA.)
Come, Digby, Milly, Eleanor, Cecil. (A TRIUMPHANT LOOK AT MOIRA.) A long dinner.
(Exeunt in order, lord plumleigh, lady millicent, ELEANOR, CECIL, LADY GEORGY, also DEIGHTON much gratified.)
MOIRA (IN AGONY). Grandpa was right. He warned me against telling. Oh, must I begin again, all alone, all alone!
(FALLS ON KNEES BY TABLE.) I have been imprisoned in the books all these years! Oh, Grandpa, let me out. (LIFTS BOOKS BRAVELY AND IS GOING OFF UPSTAIRS WITH THEM.)
LORD CARLTON (has been watching her, and as she reaches the stairs). MOTHER! (She gives a little glad cry, the books slip to the steps.) You pathetic little girl, you have done something for everybody except for me.
MOIRA. Is there anything you want?
LORD CARLTON. There is indeed. I have set my heart, Moira, on being five-and-twenty again.
MOIRA (TRAGICALLY). Oh, I can’t do it.
LORD CARLTON. What, such a little thing as that?
MOIRA. I am so sorry. Is there nothing else?
LORD CARLTON. You see, mother, if you could have done that I could have done all the rest myself. (MOVES AWAY, COMES BACK — AFTER SMILING AT HER.) Moira, if you marry, you will never let that husband idle again!
MOIRA. Never.
LORD CARLTON. No more clubs for Miss Loney’s husband.
MOIRA. Oh no!
LORD CARLTON. No eternal cigarette smoking.
MOIRA. NO.
LORD CARLTON. No suppers in restaurants, or breakfasts in bed.
MOIRA. Work, noble work, for every moment of the day!
LORD CARLTON. Yes. That’s if he were a young man, but if he was an old one, Moira.
MOIRA. You mean yourself?
LORD CARLTON. I mean myself. Am I too old?
MOIRA. I have so longed to mother you, lord, ever since I saw you in the shop; I can’t do without mothering you.
LORD CARLTON. Then stay with me, mother, and try and make a man of me. The grateful will never let the Irish go.
PETER PAN
THE BOY WHO WOULDN’T GROW UP
Barrie’s most famous work was originally written in the form of a stage play, which premiered in London on 27 December, 1904, with Nina Boucicault, daughter of playwright Dion Boucicault, in the title role. Due to its immediate commercial success, Barrie published several other works featuring Peter Pan, including a 1911 novelised account of the dramatic work. The play tells the immortal story of the mischievous boy that can fly and his adventures on the island of Neverland with Wendy Darling, her brothers, the fairy Tinker Bell, the Lost Boys and the infamous Captain Hook.
The story of Peter Pan was inspired by Barrie’s friendship with the sons of Arthur and Sylvia Llewelyn Davies. The Davies boys served as the inspiration for the characters of Peter Pan and the other boys, with several of the main characters being named after them. Barrie became their guardian following the middle-age deaths of the parents, and they were publicly associated with Barrie and with Peter Pan for the rest of their lives. Originally, Barrie had created Peter Pan in stories he told to the sons, with whom he had forged a special relationship.
The character’s name comes from two sources: Peter Llewelyn Davies, one of the boys, and Pan, the mischievous Greek god of the woodlands. It has also been suggested that the inspiration for the character was Barrie’s elder brother David, whose death in a skating accident at the age of fourteen deeply affected their mother. It is believed that she drew a measure of comfort from the notion that David, in dying a boy, would remain a boy for ever, in turn inspiring her son’s creation of the character Peter Pan.
Although the character appeared previously in Barrie’s novel The Little White Bird, the play Peter Pan contains the elements of the mythos that have since become most famous. The play opens with the portrayal of how Peter makes night-time calls on the Darlings’ house in Bloomsbury, listening in on Mrs. Mary Darling’s bedtime stories by the open window. One night Peter is spotted and, while trying to escape, he loses his shadow. On returning to claim it, Peter wakes Mary’s daughter, Wendy Darling. Wendy succeeds in re-attaching Peter’s shadow and he learns that she knows lots of bedtime stories. He invites her to Neverland to be a mother to his gang, the Lost Boys, children who were lost in Kensington Gardens. Wendy agrees, and her brothers John and Michael go along. Their magical flight to Neverland is followed by many adventures, including the saving of the Indian Princess Tiger Lily and battles with Captain Hook and his band of pirates.
A 1904 advertisement for the play at Duke of York’s Theatre, London
Sylvia Llewelyn Davies, the boys’ mother
The Davies boys with their father Arthur: Nico (in his arms), Jack, Peter, George, Michael (front, left to right)
Barrie playing Neverland with Michael Llewelyn Davies
CONTENTS
ACT I
ACT II
ACT III
ACT IV
ACT V. SCENE 1
ACT V. SCENE 2
Zena Dare as Peter, 1907
Disney’s famous 1953 animation film
The 1954 musical adaptation
The 2004 biographical film about Barrie’s relationship with the family that inspired him to create Peter Pan
The 2011 television series inspired by the Peter Pan mythos
TO THE FIVE
A DEDICATION
Some disquieting confessions must be made in printing at last the play of Peter Pan; among them this, that I have no recollection of having written it. Of that, however, anon. What I want to do first is to give Peter to the Five without whom he never would have existed. I hope, my dear sirs, that in memory of what we have been to each other you will accept this dedication with your friend’s love. The play of Peter is streaky with you still, though none may see this save ourselves.A score of Acts had to be left out, and you were in them all.We first brought Peter down, didn’t we, with a blunt-headed arrow in Kensington Gardens? I seem to remember that we believed we had killed him, though he was only winded, and that after a spasm of exultation in our prowess the more soft hearted among us wept and all of us thought of the police.There was not one of you who would not have sworn as an eye-witness to this occurrence; no doubt I was abetting, but you used to provide corroboration that was never given to you by me. As for myself, I suppose I always knew that I made Peter by rubbing the five of you violently together, as savages with two sticks produce a flame. That is all he is, the s
park I got from you.
