Синяя птица / The blue Bird. Уровень 1

Tyltyl (looking first at his Grandmother and then at his Grandfather). You are the same. But you’re better-looking.

Grandfather. Well, we feel all right. We don’t grow older[21 - grow older – стареть]. But you, how tall you’re growing! Look, over there, on the door, is the mark of the last time. That was on All-hallows. Now then, stand up straight.

(Tyltyl stands up against the door).

Four fingers taller!

(Mytyl also stands up against the door).

And Mytyl, four and a half!

Tyltyl (looking around).

Nothing is changed, everything is in its old place! Only everything is prettier! There is the clock with the big hand which I broke. And here is the hole which I made in the door.

Grandfather. And here is the plum-tree in which you were climbing, when I wasn’t looking. It still has its fine red plums.

Mytyl. And here is the old blackbird! Does it still sing?

The blackbird wakes and begins to sing.

Grandmother. You see. As soon as one thinks of it.

Tyltyl. But it’s blue! That’s the Blue Bird which I must take back to the Fairy. And you never told us that you had it here! Oh, it’s blue, blue, blue! Granddad, granny, will you give it to me?

Grandfather. Yes, perhaps, perhaps. What do you think, granny?

Grandmother. Certainly, certainly. He does nothing but sleep.

Tyltyl. I will put him in my cage. But where is my cage? Oh, I left it behind the big tree. (He runs to the tree, fetches the cage and puts the blackbird into it).

How pleased the Fairy will be! And Light too!

Grandfather. Hm, I’m afraid that the bird won’t like the restless life and will come back here. However, we will see. Leave it there, and come and look at the cow.

Tyltyl (noticing the hives). And how are the bees getting on?

Grandfather. Oh, pretty well. They are no longer alive, as you call it; but they work hard.

Tyltyl (going up to the hives). Oh, yes! I can smell the honey! All the flowers are so beautiful! And my little dead sisters, are they here too?

Mytyl.

And where are my three little brothers who were dead as well?

At these words, seven little children, of different sizes, come out of the cottage, one by one.

Grandfather. Here they are, here they are! As soon as you think of them, as soon as you speak of them, they are there, the darlings!

Tyltyl and Mytyl run to meet the Children. They hustle and hug one another and dance and utter screams of joy.

Tyltyl.