Script

SIDE 1

MATRON

Pardon me Mr. Bumble, Widow Corney-

WIDOW CORNEY

What's the matter?

MATRON

It's old Sally, ma'am. She says she's got something to tell you that must be heard. She's not got long and she'll never die quiet till you listen, ma'am.

WIDOW CORNEY

Well what is it?

(The MATRON brings OLD SALLY forward.)

OLD SALLY

In this very workhouse I once nursed a pretty young creature that I brought in from the cold. She gave birth to a boy and... died. Let me think, what was the year again?

MR. BUMBLE

Never mind the year, what about her?

OLD SALLY

I robbed her. The only thing she had of any worth, it was round her neck and it was gold.

WIDOW CORNEY

Gold? What of it?

OLD SALLY

This is it. The locket. It's my belief she came from a rich family.

(WIDOW CORNEY grabs the locket from OLD SALLY's neck.)

WIDOW CORNEY

The boy's name?

OLD SALLY

He's called... he's called...

(speaking as she dies)

Oliver.

WIDOW CORNEY, MR. BUMBLE

Oliver?

WIDOW CORNEY

We must retrieve that boy, Mr. Bumble.

MR. BUMBLE

We must indeed, ma'am. We must indeed.

END

SIDE 2

MR. SOWERBERRY

If you don't mind! Cash upon liking, Mr. Bumble! Cash upon liking!

(calls off to MRS. SOWERBERRY)

Mrs. Sowerberry!

(MRS. SOWERBERRY enters.)

MRS. SOWERBERRY

What is it you want? What is it? Oh, Mr. Bumble!

MR. SOWERBERRY

My dear, I have told Mr. Bumble that we may consider taking in this boy to help in the shop.

MRS. SOWERBERRY

Dear me! He's very small.

(OLIVER goes onto tip-toe.)

MR. BUMBLE

Yes, he is rather small - there's no denying it. But he'll grow, Mrs. Sowerberry - he'll grow.

(MRS. SOWERBERRY examines OLIVER doubtfully.)

MRS. SOWERBERRY

I dare say he will, on our vittles and our drink. They're a waste of time, these workhouse boys. They always cost more to keep than what they're worth. What's your name, boy?

OLIVER

Oliver. Oliver Twist, ma'am.

MRS. SOWERBERRY

An orphan then, Mr. Bumble?

MR. BUMBLE

Indeed Mrs. Sowerberry. The child's mother came to us destitute... brings the child into the world... takes one look at him... and promptly dies without leaving so much as a forwarding name and address.

MRS. SOWERBERRY

Very well then, junior coffin-follower... that's your job... have you eaten yet?

END