Authors: Laura Wade
The
WHITE RABBIT
returns and goes close to the queen
.
WHITE RABBIT:
Your majesty –
He whispers in her ear. The
QUEEN
suddenly shrieks
.
QUEEN:
Stolen! My tarts? Who stole my tarts?
That’s it – No more croquet! Whoever stole the tarts will lose his head!
The whole crowd quakes with fear
.
Out of my way!
The
QUEEN
goes to leave. As she is doing so, the
DUCHESS
steps into her path
.
DUCHESS:
Your majesty – may I say how delightful it is to me to be back at court and back in your –
QUEEN:
Get out of my way, idiot!
DUCHESS:
But your majesty – You’re my best friend!
The
QUEEN
leaves, with the
DUCHESS
pursuing her
.
ALICE:
No – wait – please – I need to speak to you –
The
WONDERLANDERS
hurriedly pack away the croquet ground – rolling the lawn up and carrying it off, wheeling out the
QUEEN
’s podium etc...
ALICE
tries to get to the
QUEEN
, but is thwarted every time by people standing in front of her
.
No – please – please come back –
ALICE
is left alone as everything and everyone gets packed away
.
The big door clanks shut behind her and
ALICE
shouts with frustration
.
No no NO!
I don’t know what to do I don’t know what to do.
I mean what else do you bloody want me to do?
I’ve played the stupid game, I’ve done the Heart thing – it’s not a place, I’ve tried that, and it’s not a person I mean I’m running
out of options here, I’m struggling for any kind of idea at all. I’ve tried to talk to all these mental people but d’you know what?
They’re all mental
! Nobody’s
given me anything that’s even remotely useful – what, a stupid piece-of-nonsense poem and I’m supposed to go ‘oh yeah, eureka, I know exactly what to do now’.
ALICE
hears a voice from another world
.
MUM:
Has anyone seen Alice?
ALICE:
Mum?
DAD:
We can’t find her anywhere.
ALICE:
I’m here!
DAD:
Have you checked the attic?
ALICE:
The attic’s Joe’s room, I can’t go in there.
MUM:
I don’t know, I can’t go in there.
DAD:
She’s probably just hiding somewhere.
MUM:
Maybe she’s gone out.
DAD:
She’s not been out in two weeks.
ALICE:
Mummy? Can you come and get me? I’ve got nothing left.
I don’t know how to get home, mum. I’ve got nothing.
ALICE
feels in her pockets and pulls out Jabberwocky
.
I mean yeah, I’ve got this stupid
poem
, but –
She looks at the poem
.
This is literally the last thing I’ve got.
Twas brillig and the – What, is this code, or an anagram, or –
Brillig. I mean what does brillig mean? I’m stuck on the second word. What’s the point in even trying?
ALICE
screws up the piece of paper and sits on the floor, her head in her hands
.
A voice calls from the cupboard
.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Hey you! You at the back!
ALICE:
What?
ALICE
looks up, hastily wiping her eyes and stuffing the piece of paper back into her pocket
.
HUMPTY DUMPTY
appears out of the cupboard, sitting at a very high school desk
.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
What are you doing there?
ALICE:
Me? Nothing. I’m not doing anything.
ALICE
stands up and turns to face him
.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
That’s hardly true, is it? You’re standing, aren’t you? You’re looking. You’re
breathing
. I’d
say you were doing rather a lot.
ALICE
doesn’t say anything
.
Don’t answer back! It’s your own time you’re wasting, you know.
How old did you say you were?
ALICE:
I’m twelve.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Wrong! You never said anything of the sort.
ALICE:
What?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Try to stay awake.
ALICE:
I thought you meant ‘how old are you’?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
If I’d meant that, I’d have said it, wouldn’t I?
Twelve, you say.
ALICE:
Twelve and three weeks.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
An uncomfortable sort of age. If you’d asked my advice, I’d have said ‘leave off at eleven’, but it’s too
late now.
ALICE:
What d’you mean, ‘leave off’?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Put up your hand if you want to say something.
ALICE
puts her hand up
.
ALICE:
What d’you mean, ‘leave off’?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Stop. Stop growing.
ALICE:
You can’t stop growing.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
‘
One
’ can’t stop growing. Speak properly.
ALICE:
OK, one can’t stop growing.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
One can’t, but two can. With proper assistance you might have left off at eleven.
ALICE
turns away
.
It’s all a choice, you know. Young people today – you’re all about feelings – oh dear poor me, I’ve got a terrible life I’m very upset. Try
being stuck up here talking to reprobates like you, then you’d know what upset is!
ALICE:
(Under her breath.)
Get down then.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
I beg your pardon?
ALICE:
Nothing.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
WHAT DID YOU SAY?
ALICE:
I said if you don’t like it, why don’t you get down?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
If
you
don’t like it, why don’t you buck your ideas up? Hmm? What have you got to say to that, Little Miss
Backchat?
ALICE:
I don’t know what you mean by ‘buck your ideas up’.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Flummery – pure flummery.
ALICE
shakes her head, confused
.
What?
ALICE:
I don’t know what ‘flummery’ is.
HUMPTY
’s voice rises to a shriek as he speaks
.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Flummery is that way you have of standing there with your nose in the air as if you thought the world owed you something, as if it was
your particular entitlement to live a life free from suffering, and why can’t things just be nice and why doesn’t anyone come and rescue me when they know perfectly well I’m stuck
here and can’t get down!
ALICE:
But that’s a huge amount of things for one word to mean, that’s too much.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
When I say a word it means exactly what I choose it to mean. I am very very good with words. There isn’t a word in the world that I
don’t know the meaning of.
ALICE
realises something
.
ALICE:
Oh. You’re a
word person
!
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out Jabberwocky again
.
So maybe you could interpret this –
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
THE BELL IS FOR ME NOT FOR YOU!
ALICE:
What bell?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
You – you’re in detention. Stay behind.
ALICE:
Um. Right, OK. OK, can I ask you about these words I don’t understand –
HUMPTY
switches into a much more understanding tone
.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Now, what’s going on here, eh? You can talk to me, you know. I’m not an ogre.
ALICE:
No, of course. Thank you. I wanted to ask you –
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Anything you’d like to tell me about? Someone bullying you?
It’s OK to tell someone, you know – if you tell someone we can do something about it. Everything alright at home?
ALICE:
What?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
I’m just wondering what’s making you behave like this. What d’you think the King would say if he knew?
ALICE:
The King?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
I’m very good friends with the King. Do you know he told me if I was ever in trouble he’d send all of his horses and all of
his men?
ALICE:
Oh. Right. I’m supposed to know who you are.
I mean gosh, lucky me – to be standing talking to the real Humpty Dumpty.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Oh you knew who I was, did you, when you saw me?
ALICE:
You’re famous. I’m sorry, I didn’t like to say at first. I was a bit shy. Not everybody gets to have a poem explained to them by
the real –
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Yes, I can see it would be probably the most exciting thing that ever happened to you.
ALICE:
The King must be very honoured to know someone as clever as you. I bet he comes and talks to you all the time.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Um, yes, well. He’s a very busy man.
But he did give me this.
He shows
ALICE
his special blackboard pointer
.
He gave it to me for an unbirthday present.
ALICE:
Um, what’s an unbirthday present?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
An unbirthday present is a present given when it’s not your birthday. Unbirthdays are much better than birthdays. Do you know
why?
ALICE:
Um, no.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
How many days are there in a year?
ALICE:
Um. Three hundred and sixty five. And a quarter.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
And how many birthdays do you have in a year?
ALICE:
One.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
So if you take one from three hundred and sixty five,
ALICE:
And a quarter.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Don’t get clever. If you take one from three hundred and sixty five and a quarter, what do you get?
ALICE:
Three hundred and sixty four. And a quarter.
HUMPTY
frowns
.
Shall I write it down and hand it in?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
You know, with the amount of paperwork I have to do it’s a wonder I have time to teach anything at all.
ALICE:
OK, can you tell me what this poem means?
She takes Jabberwocky from her pocket
.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Ah. Poetry. My special pigeon.
Read me the first verse.
ALICE:
OK.
(Reads.)
‘Twas Brillig and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe...
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
What words in particular are troubling you?
ALICE:
Most of them. I don’t know what brillig means.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Brillig is four o’clock in the afternoon – when you begin broiling things for supper.
ALICE:
OK. That doesn’t make very much sense, but –
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Carry on.
ALICE:
Slithy?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Slithy
. That means lithe and slimy. What we call a portmanteau word – two words in one, two meanings packed in the same
suitcase.
ALICE:
And what are toves?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Toves are a little like badgers, something like lizards and quite a lot like corkscrews.
ALICE:
OK, gyre and gimble.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Gyre is to go round and round like a gyroscope, gimble is to make holes like a gimlet.
ALICE:
That doesn’t make sense.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
It’s not a very good poem.
ALICE:
Mimsy?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Flimsy and miserable.
ALICE:
Borogoves?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Thin, shabby looking birds with feathers that stick out all round.
ALICE:
Mome raths?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Raaths! To rhyme with baaths! Speak properly.
ALICE:
Where I come from we say bath.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
A rath is a sort of a pig.
ALICE:
Oh, ok, I saw a pig earlier.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Mome means from home – as in someone who’d lost their way.
ALICE:
Oh, that’s me! I’ve lost my way home.
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
One can only go so far with a conservative structure like that. Most poets of any worth these days have abandoned the rhyme entirely. We
like to let our words roam free.
ALICE:
Yes, so the next bit says –
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
I said, WE like to let our words roam free.
ALICE:
Right. You’re a poet, are you?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Oh no, I couldn’t possibly.
ALICE:
Sorry?
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
It’s so exposing to read one’s work aloud – it’s a very delicate process.
ALICE:
OK, we could just carry on / with this then –
HUMPTY DUMPTY:
Well, if you insist.
HUMPTY
takes a piece of paper from his breast pocket
.