Oliver Twist Page #2

Well, what's that to me?

I can't keep her alive, can I?

She says she's got something

to tell that you must hear.

She'll never die quiet

until you come, mistress.

- Did she say any more, Martha dear?

- Not a word.

- Cold night, Mrs. Corney.

- Very cold indeed, sir.

If you have to wait long,

I shall be surprised.

Put the light on the floor.

She won't see it there.

- Good night, sir.

- Good night.

It won't be long, mistress.

None of us have to wait long.

It'll come soon enough

for us all.

- Who's that?

- Hush, hush.

- Who's that?

- Lie down, dear. Lie down.

Come here.

Come here.

- Listen.

- Yes?

In this very room,

in this very bed...

I once nursed a pretty,

young creature.

She gave birth

to a boy and died.

Go on. Yes?

They would have treated

him better if they'd have known it all.

Known what?

Let me think.

It was the year...

Never mind about the year.

What about him?

Aye, what about him?

What about...

I know. Uh...

- Turn them away.

- Mrs. Annie, dear.

- Make haste. Make haste.

- Get out! Go on! Get out! Hurry!

Get out!

Right. Go on.

What?

- Stone dead.

- What was it, mistress?

Nothing. Nothing to tell

after all. Nothing.

Come up and sit

by the fire, Noah dear.

Oliver, shut that door

behind Mr. Noah's back.

I saved a nice bit of bacon from the

master's breakfast for you, Noah dear.

Oliver, here's your tea,

and take them bits.

And make haste, 'cause

they want you to mind shop.

- D'you hear?

- D'you hear, Workhouse?

Workhouse,

how's your mother?

- She's dead.

- What'd she die of, Workhouse?

They said she died of a broken heart.

What set you a-sniveling?

- Not you.

- Oh, not me, eh?

No, not you. You'd better

stop saying things about my mother.

"Better stop." Workhouse,

don't be impudent.

You know, Workhouse,

your mother must have been

a regular, right-down bad 'un.

What did you say?

A regular, right-down

bad 'un, Workhouse.

And it's a great deal better,

Workhouse, that she died when she did,

or else she'd have been doing

hard labor in Bridewell.

Or transported or hung, which is

more likely than either, isn't it?

Stop it!

Sorry! Help!

Help me!

- Noah!

- Charlotte! Help! Charlotte!

No, no! Help!

Oliver!

Help! Aaah!

- The coal hole!

- No!

Yes! Get him in!

You little villain, you.

I'll kill you!

So long!

Oh! Noah!

Yes, ma'am?

Fetch the beadle.

Well, ma'am!

Where is this audacious

young savage?

Let me out! Let me out!

Let me out! Let me out!

- Oliver.

- Yes?

Do you know

this here voice, sir?

Yes!

Ain't you afraid of it, sir?

Ain't you a-trembling

while I speak, sir?

No!

Let me out!

Let me out! Let...

The boy must be mad!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes