Oliver Twist Page #3

That way!

-Stop, thief! Stop!

-Thief!

-What's your name, boy?

-Give him some air.

He's scared to death.

-Where's the gentleman?

-Here's the gentleman now.

-ls this the boy, sir?

-Yes, I'm afraid it is.

That's a good one.

Did you hear him, "afraid it is"?

-Poor fellow's hurt himself.

-Yeah, I did that, sir.

Hurt me knuckle against his mouth.

But I stopped him.

-Get up!

-lt wasn't me, sir. It wasn't me.

Of course it wasn't. It never is.

-Now get up.

-Don't hurt him.

Oh, no, sir, I won't hurt him.

This way, gentlemen.

This way, gentlemen.

-What's next?

-That is my name and address, sir.

Officer, who is this fellow?

-My name is Brownlow.

-Hold your tongue.

Officer, what's this fellow

charged with?

Oh, no, no. He's not charged,

Your Worship.

He appears against the boy.

-Swear him.

-Before I am sworn...

-...I must beg to say one word.

-Hold your tongue, sir.

-I will not, sir!

-Hold your tongue this instant.

You're an insolent,

impertinent fellow.

-How dare you bully a magistrate.

-What?

Swear this person.

I'll not hear another word. Swear him.

"l do solemnly swear to tell

the whole truth, so help me God."

-What's the charge against the boy?

-I was at a bookstore when--

Hold your tongue!

Where's the policeman?

Policeman, what is this?

Are there any witnesses?

-None, Your Worship.

-The boy is ill.

Oh, yes, I daresay.

Come along, you vagabond.

None of your tricks here.

What's your name?

What's your name,

you hardened scoundrel?

-Officer, what's his name?

-What's your name, boy?

Some water. Some water.

He says his name is Sam Waters,

Your Worship.

-Where does he live?

-Where do you live?

-Anywhere he can, Your Worship.

-Stuff and nonsense.

Don't try to make a fool out of me.

No, I think he really is ill,

Your Worship.

I know better,

or my name's not Fang.

Stand away, officer. He's shamming.

He stands committed

for three months.

Hard labor, of course.

Clear the office.

Stop. Stop, stop!

Don't take him away.

What is this? Who is this?

Turn this man out.

-Clear the office.

-I will not be turned out! I will speak!

I saw it all. I own the bookshop.

-I demand to be heard.

-What have you got to say?

-lt was not this boy.

-Not this boy? Who was it, then?

The robbery was committed by

two others while the man was reading.

I saw it done. I saw that this boy

was perfectly amazed by it.

Why didn't you come before?

-I hadn't a soul to mind the shop.

-Reading, you say?

A book, I suppose.

Yes, the very one

he has in his hand.

Oh, dear me, I forgot all about it.

Well, you're a nice one.

To prefer a charge

against an innocent boy.

I consider, sir,

that you've obtained that book...

...under very suspicious

and disreputable circumstances.

-Damn me!

-Bookseller...

...do you want to press charges

against him?

-Certainly not.

-Well...

...think yourself fortunate...

...that the owner of the book

declines to prosecute.

The boy is discharged.

-Clear the office.

-Damn me.

Clear the office!

Clear the office!

Next case.

Come on. Move along, sir, please.

Just move along, sir.

There's a good gentleman, sir.

Hold on, Harry. I'll give you a hand.

Mind that step.

Just mind that step there.

Make way for the law, sir.

-Careful. Careful with him.

-He seems very young too.

Call a coach, pray.

-Yeah, right away, sir.

-I'm sorry.

Poor boy.

-Mind yourself, madam.

-Thank you, sir.

-Got one, sir.

-Thank you, officer.

Let me, sir.

There we go.

-Will you drop me off, sir?

-Of course.

All right.

If you could just take his head, sir.

-Where to, sir?

-Pentonville.

-Pentonville.

-Yes.

Answer me! Where is he?

What's become of the boy?

Speak out, or I'll throttle you!

The traps have got him!

Let go of me, will you?!

Bullseye!

Who pitched this here at me?

Who done it?

Bullseye.

Come in, you sneaking warmint.

What you stopping outside for?

Lay down.

What you up to, Fagin?

Ill-treating the boys again?

A wonder they don't murder you.

I would, if I was them.

Don't speak so loud.

You seem out of sorts, Bill.

Give us a drink.

And mind you don't poison it.

Charley.

Good stuff, Bill.

So, Dodger...

-...what's it all about?

-A new boy.

Come out with us

afore he was rightly up to it.

-Got nabbed by the traps.

-You see, Bill...

...I'm afraid he may say something

which will get us into trouble.

You were blowed upon, Fagin.

And about time.

And I'm afraid, you see, Bill,

that if the game was up with us...

...it would come out rather worse

for you than it would for me, my dear.

There's only one thing for it.

Somebody's gotta find out at the office

what's being done to him.

Somebody's gotta

get hold of him somehow.

I ain't going near no police office.

Not for nobody, nohow.

I have it, the very thing.

Bet will go.

-Won't you, my dear?

-I'm blessed if I will.

Nancy, my dear, what do you say?

It won't do. There's no use

in trying it on, Fagin.

-What do you mean by that?

-What I say.

Why, you're just

the very person for it.

Nobody about here

knows anything about you.

And as I don't want them to neither.

It's rather more "no" than "yes"

with me, Bill.

-She'll go, Fagin.

-No, she won't, Fagin.

Yes, she will, Fagin.

-Can I help you, miss?

-I'm looking for my little brother.

-Now, who would he be?

-A lovely little boy.

Lovely manners.

Gentle as falling snow.

We don't get many of those.

I think you'll be wanting

Mr. Fang's court.

George, this here young lady

is looking for her brother.

The one that fainted

and got away with it.

Oh, yeah.

Gentleman took him away.

What gentleman? Gracious heavens,

what gentleman?

Well, lives in Pentonville, I believe.

Oh, my God.

No, no. Wait, wait, wait.

His card's here somewhere.

Here we are.

Thank you, sir.

Mr. Brownlow.

Mr. Brownlow.

There's something in him...

...that touched my heart,

Mrs. Bedwin.

Can't explain it.

I feel the same, sir.

Who is he? What is he?

You know nothing of him.

He had a fever. What of that?

Bad people have fevers sometimes.

I knew a man in Jamaica who was

hanged for murdering his master.

He had a fever six times.

-I know there is goodness in him.

-How do you know it?

Goodness and innocence.

-I knew it the first moment I saw him.

-He'll deceive you.

Let you down

at the first opportunity...

...Iike all your other

good and innocent causes.

If that boy's good and innocent,

I'll eat my own head, sir.

How do you feel, my dear?

Very happy, sir.

-And very grateful to you indeed, sir.

-Good boy.

Have you given him any nourishment,

Bedwin? Any slops?

Not slops, sir. Broth.

A couple of glasses of port wine...

...would have done him

a great deal more good.

Wouldn't they, Sam?

My name is Oliver, sir.

Oliver?

-Oliver what? Oliver Waters?

-No, sir. Twist. Oliver Twist.

Why did you tell the magistrate

your name was Waters?

I never told him so, sir.

-You did not?

-No, sir.

-You're not angry with me, are you?

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