Oliver Twist Page #5

Now, what is the charge

against this boy?

Stealing a handkerchief,

Your Worship.

- I'd rather not press the case.

- Hold your tongue, sir!

- Are there any witnesses?

- None, Your Worship.

What is your name?

What is your name?

He's been hurt, and I fear...

I really fear he's very ill.

Oh, yes, I dare say.

Come now. None of your tricks here,

you young vagabond.

What is your name?

What's your name?

Hmm?

He says his name's

Tom White, Your Worship.

Very well.

Where does he live?

Where do you live?

Where he can,

Your Worship.

Please, sir,

could I have some water?

Stop the nonsense!

Don't try to make a fool of me!

I'm afraid he really

is ill, Your Worship.

I know better.

Take care. He's going to fall.

Stand away!

Let him if he likes.

How do you propose

to deal with the case, sir?

Quiet! What's this?

Who is this?

I keep the bookstore.

I saw it all. It was another boy.

Why didn't you come before?

Couldn't get a soul

to mind the shop.

Swear the man.

They bring him

out of the court fainted.

He gets in a carriage with

this gentleman, and they drive off.

He'll blow on us, Fagin, for certain!

That's the boy,

is it?

That's the boy.

Nice-looking boy,

isn't he?

I don't know.

I only know two sorts of boys:

mealy boys

and beef-faced boys.

And which is he?

Mealy.

Shhh.

Good night, Mrs. Bedwin.

Good night, sir.

Is Bedwin in the habit

of counting the plate at night?

Because if she doesn't find a tablespoon

or two missing one sunny morning,

I'll be content

to eat my head, sir.

Your move.

Where does he come from?

Who is he? What is he?

If that boy doesn't

deceive you, my good friend,

I'll eat my head

and yours too.

- We shall see.

- We will. We will.

- Where am I?

- Hush, my dear.

You must be very quiet,

or you'll be ill again.

You've been very bad.

Lie down again. That's it.

There.

Don't mind me, my dear.

It's all over now.

I'm rather hoarse this morning, Bedwin.

I'm afraid

I've got a cold.

- Now, how do you feel, my dear?

- Very happy, sir.

Good. Have you given him

any nourishment, Bedwin?

He's going to have a basin

of beautiful, strong broth, sir.

Mm-hmm. A couple of glasses

of port wine would do him far more good.

- Wouldn't they, Tom White?

- My name's Oliver, sir.

Oliver?

Oliver White, hmm?

No, sir. Twist.

Oliver Twist.

Hmm, that's

a queer name.

What made you tell the magistrate

your name was White?

I never told him, sir.

Some mistake.

Some mistake, hmm?

Ah, have your broth,

young man.

We must get you

strong again.

As soon as you're well enough,

we must have a little chat.

Oh, thank you

very much, sir.

Fool, bungler, liar.

I paid you good money

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