Синяя птица / The blue Bird. Уровень 1

Tyltyl. Daddy will take it from me.

The Fairy. He won’t see it; no one can see it when it’s on your head. Will you try it? (She puts the little green hat on Tyltyl’s head). Now, turn the diamond.

Tyltyl turned the diamond and a sudden and wonderful change came over everything. The old Fairy alters into a princess of marvellous beauty. The flints of the cottage walls turn blue as sapphires, become transparent and gleam and sparkle like the most precious stones. The humble furniture becomes resplendent. The table looks like a table of marble. The face of the clock winks its eye and smiles genially. The door that contains the pendulum opens and releases the Hours. They begin to dance.

Tyltyl (pointing to the Hours). Who are all those pretty ladies?

The Fairy. Don’t be afraid; they are the hours of your life and they are glad to be free and visible for a moment.

Tyltyl. And why are the walls so bright? Are they made of sugar or of precious stones?

The Fairy. All stones are alike, all stones are precious; but man sees only a few of them.

While they are speaking, the souls of the Quartern-loaves[10 - quartern-loaves – каравай], in the form of little men scramble out of the bread-pan and frisk round the table. Fire follows them with laughter.

Tyltyl. Who are those ugly little men?

The Fairy. Oh, they are merely the souls of the Quartern-loaves, who left the pan.

Tyltyl. And the big red fellow, with the nasty smell?

The Fairy. Hush! Don’t speak too loud; that’s Fire. He’s dangerous.

The Dog and the Cat utter a loud and simultaneous cry. The Dog rushes upon Tyltyl, kisses him violently and overwhelms him with noisy and impetuous caresses. The Cat combs its hair, and washes its hands. Then it goes to Mytyl.

The Dog (yelling and jumping). My little god! Good-morning, good-morning, my dear little god! At last, at last we can talk! I have so much to tell you! Good-morning, good-morning! I love you!

Tyltyl. (to the Fairy) Who is this?

The Fairy. Don’t you see? It’s the soul of Tylo.

The Cat (going up to Mytyl with much ceremony and circumspection). Good-morning, Miss. How well you look this morning!

Mytyl. Good-morning. (To the Fairy) Who is it?

The Fairy. Why, don’t you see? It’s the soul of Tylette.

The Dog (hustling the Cat). I’ll kiss the little god! I’ll kiss the little girl! I’ll kiss everybody! Oh, I’ll frighten Tylette! Bow, wow, wow!

The Cat. Sir, I don’t know you.

Meanwhile, the spinning-wheel[11 - spinning-wheel – веретено] turns madly in its corner and spins brilliant rays of light. The tap begins to sing in a very high voice and turns into a luminous fountain. It floods the sink with pearls and emeralds, through which darts the soul of Water. It’s a young girl, who immediately begins to fight with Fire.

Tyltyl. And who is that wet lady?

The Fairy. Don’t be afraid. It’s just Water from the tap.

The milk-jug falls from the table and smashes on the floor. From the milk there rises a tall, white, bashful figure. It is afraid of everything.

Tyltyl. And who is that frightened lady in her nightgown?

The Fairy. That’s Milk.

The sugar-loaf grows taller and wider. Then a mawkish and hypocritical creature in a long coat, half blue and half white, goes up to Mytyl with a sanctimonious smile.

Mytyl (alarmed). What does he want?

The Fairy. Why, he is the soul of Sugar!

Mytyl (reassured). Has he any sugar-sticks[12 - sugar-stick – леденец]?

The Fairy. His pockets are full of it and each of his fingers is a sugar-stick, too.

The lamp falls from the table and. Its flame turns into a luminous maid of incomparable beauty. She is dressed in long transparent veils and stands motionless.

Tyltyl. It’s the Queen!

Suddenly, the children hear three loud knocks at the door.

Tyltyl (alarmed). That’s daddy!

The Fairy. Turn the diamond! From left to right!

Tyltyl turns the diamond quickly.

The Fairy. Not so quick! It’s too late! You turned it too briskly; we will have a lot of problems.

The Fairy becomes an old woman again, the walls of the cottage lose their splendour. The Hours go back into the clock, the spinning-wheel stops. Fire runs madly round the room, one of the loaves of bread sobs.

The Fairy. What’s the matter?

Bread (in tears). There’s no room in the pan!

The Fairy (looking into the pan). Yes, there is; yes, there is. (Pushing the other loaves). Come, quick.

Somebody knocks again.

Bread (scared). I can’t get in! He’ll eat me first!

The Dog. My little god! I am still here! I can still talk! I can still kiss you! Once more! Once more! Once more!

The Fairy. What, you too? Are you there still?

The Dog. What luck! I was too late to return.

The Cat. Me too. What will happen? Is there any danger?

The Fairy. Well, I must tell you the truth: all those who accompany the two Children will die at the end of the journey.