Oliver! Page #2

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- Oliver?

- Yes, I'm here!

- Do you know this here voice, Oliver?

- Yes, I do!

Well, ain't you afraid of it, Oliver?

Ain't you a-trembling when I speak, Oliver?

No, I'm not!

He's gone mad, Mr. Bumble. Or he wouldn't

dare to speak to you like that.

It's not madness, ma'am, it's meat.

- Meat?

- Meat, ma'am, meat! You overfed the boy.

You raised an artificial spirit in the lad

unbecoming to his station in life.

This would never have happened

if you kept him on gruel.

- Gruel?

- I'll be glad to give you the recipe.

- Well, well, well. Having a rest, Mr. Bumble?

- He's sitting on Oliver.

- Quite right. We must all sit on Oliver.

- You been drinking again?

- I met a friend in the cemetery.

- Help!

Who's in there?

That coffin should not have been occupied

until tomorrow.

It's reserved for a very important client.

Stand back!

Now, then. What's your explanation,

you young scallywag?

He called my mum a name.

And what if he did,

you ungrateful little wretch?

She deserved what he said and worse.

- She didn't!

- She did!

- It's a lie!

- Hold your tongue, boy!

Put him down in the cellar, Mr. Bumble.

That'll teach him.

- My love?

- Yes!

It's really quite comfortable.

You'll stay down there

till we decide what's to be done with you.

And here's your baggage, workhouse.

Three pounds, indeed!

You can take him back.

Where is love?

Does it fall from skies above?

Is it underneath the willow tree

That I've been dreaming of?

Where is she

Who I close my eyes to see?

Will I ever know the sweet hello

That's meant for only me?

Who can say where she may hide?

Must I travel far and wide?

Till I am beside the someone who

I can mean something to

Where

Is love?

Every night I kneel and pray

Let tomorrow be the day

When I see the face of someone who

I can mean something to

Where

Is love?

Please help me. Please!

What you staring at?

Haven't you never seen a toff?

No, never. I'm sorry. I didn't...

Oh, that's all right.

- Hungry?

- Yes, I am. I've come a long way.

I've been walking for seven days.

Been running away from the beak,

have you?

The what?

Now, don't say you don't know

what a beak is.

It's a bird's mouth, isn't it?

My eyes, how green can you get!

For your information,

a beak is a magistrate.

Who you running away from, then?

Your old man?

No, I'm an orphan.

I've come to London to make my fortune.

Hello.

You have, have you?

Got any lodgings?

- Money?

- Not a farthing.

Do you live in London?

What the...

I suppose you want someplace

to sleep tonight, eh?

Do you know of anywhere?

As it so happens,

I know a respectable old gentleman

- what'll give you lodgings for nothing.

- Really?

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