Tyltyl. We have no shoes.
The Fairy. That doesn’t matter[8]. I will give you a little magic hat. Where are your father and mother?
Tyltyl (pointing to the door on the right). They’re sleeping there.
The Fairy. And your grandfather and grandmother?
Tyltyl. They’re dead.
The Fairy. And your little brothers and sisters. Have you any?
Tyltyl. Oh, yes; three little brothers.
Mytyl. And four little sisters.
The Fairy. Where are they?
Tyltyl. They are dead, too.
The Fairy. Would you like to see them again?
Tyltyl. Oh, yes! At once! Show them to us!
The Fairy. I don’t have them in my pocket. But you will see them when you go through the Land of Memory. It’s on the way to the Blue Bird, just on the left. What were you doing when I knocked?
Tyltyl. We were eating cakes.
The Fairy. Have you any cakes? Where are they?
Tyltyl. In the house of the rich children. We were just playing. Come and look, it’s so lovely. (He drags the Fairy to the window).
The Fairy (at the window). Do you envy them?
Tyltyl. Why?
The Fairy. Because they are eating the cakes.
Tyltyl. Not at all; they’re rich. But isn’t it beautiful over there?
The Fairy. It’s no more beautiful there than here.
Tyltyl. It’s darker here and smaller and there are no cakes.
The Fairy. It’s exactly the same, only you can’t see.
Tyltyl. Yes, I can; and I have very good eyes. I can see the time on the church clock and daddy can’t.
The Fairy (angrily). I tell you that you can’t see! How do you see me? Well, answer me, will you? I want to know if you can see! Am I pretty or ugly? (The silence). Won’t you answer? Am I young or old? Are my cheeks pink or yellow? Perhaps you’ll say I have a hump?
Tyltyl. No, no; it’s not a big one.
The Fairy. Oh. Have I a hook nose? Did I lose one of my eyes?
Tyltyl. Oh, no, I don’t say that. Who put it out?
The Fairy (more and more irritated). Nobody! You wretched, impudent boy! That eye is much finer than the other; it’s bigger and brighter and blue as the sky. And my hair, do you see that? It’s fair as the corn in the fields, it’s like gold! Do you see it on my hands?
Tyltyl. Yes, I see a little.
The Fairy (indignantly). A little! Sheaves! Armfuls! Waves of gold! I know there are people who say that they don’t see any; but you’re not one of those wicked, blind people, I can hope?
Tyltyl. Oh, no; I can see your own hair.
The Fairy. People are very odd! Since the death of the fairies, they see nothing at all. Luckily, I always carry with me something to give new light to dimmed eyes. What am I taking out of my bag?
Tyltyl. Oh, what a dear little green hat! What’s that in the cockade?
The Fairy. That’s the big diamond that makes people see[9].
Tyltyl. Really?
The Fairy. Yes; first the hat on your head. Then turn the diamond a little; from right to left. Do you see? The diamond presses a bump which opens your eyes.
Tyltyl. Doesn’t it hurt?
The Fairy. Not at all. You will see even the inside of things: the soul of bread, of wine, of pepper, for instance.
Mytyl. Can you see the soul of sugar, too?
The Fairy (angrily). Of course you can! I hate unnecessary questions. The soul of pepper is more interesting than the soul of sugar. I give you all that to help you in your search for the Blue Bird. Oh, one more thing. (Pointing to the diamond) When you hold it like this, and when you turn it, you can behold the past. Another little turn and you behold the future. It’s curious and practical and it’s noiseless.
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], 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] 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