Sweeney Todd Sat Act 1 Filmed on Pixel 2 Phone

Attend the tale of Sweeney Todd. His skin was pale and his eye was odd.

Shaved the faces of gentlemen who never thereafter were heard of again. What if none of this holds for safety, but for memory? What if we meet, my sweetie, upon the Dean of Arbor of Peace Street? Swing your razor wide, sweetie. Folded to the skies, freely flows the blood of those who were lies. The book of such an old man, the strong arm. For neatness he deserves the nod. Sir Sweeney Todd. Then he would rub her feet, treat her good. Inconspicuous Sweeney was. Quick and quiet and clean he was. Back of his smile, under his word, Sweeney heard music that nobody heard. Sweeney parted it, Sweeney bent it, like a perfect machine he bent it.

Sweeney was smooth, Sweeney was subtle, Sweeney would flake it, rasp it, scuttle. Sweeney was smooth, he was Sweeney subtle, Sweeney would grind it, rasp it, scuttle. Sweeney was smooth, he was Sweeney subtle, Sweeney would grind it, rasp it, scuttle.

Sweeney was smooth, he was Sweeney subtle, Sweeney would grind it, rasp it, scuttle.

Sing it, sing it, sing it, sing it! Attend to the tale of Sweeney Todd.

Attend to the tale of Sweeney Todd.

He served a dark and a vengeful god.

He served a dark and a vengeful god.

What happened then? Well, that's the play, and he wouldn't want us to give it away. Not Sweeney. Not Sweeney Todd.

A demon barber of Fleet Street.

I have sailed the world, beheld its wonders, from the Dardanelles to the mountains of Peru, but there's no place like London. I feel home again. I would hear the city bells ring whatever I could do. No, there's no place like London. Mr. Toddshead, you are young. Life has been kind to you. You will learn. It is here we go our several ways. Farewell, Anthony. I will not soon forget the good ship Bountiful, nor the young sailor who saved my life. There's no cause to thank me for that, sir. I would have been a very poor Christian indeed who, having seen you pitching and tossing on that raft, did not give the alarm. There's many a Christian who would have done just that, and not lost a wink's sleep for it either.

<LYRICS>Alta, sporal needs my poor woman.</LYRICS> On a peaceful chilly morning. Thank you, sir. Thank you. How would you like a little kiss, dear? I'll be your girlfriend. You won't do better on the dot. Wouldn't you like to take me dancing and be my boyfriend and bind me up so pretty, Frosty? For a beautiful woman, what's got wandering wits and dull tired of you, sir?

Must you glare at me, woman? Off with you! Off I say!

Then how would you like a little kiss, dear?

I'll be your girlfriend, you won't say no. Off I say! To the devil with you! Pardon me, sir, but there's no cause to fear the likes of her. She's only a half-crazed beggar woman. London's full of them. I beg your indulgence, boy. My mind is far from easy, for in these once familiar streets I feel the chill of ghostly shadows everywhere. Forgive me. There's nothing to forgive. Farewell, Anthony. Mr. Todd, before we part, what is it? I've honored my promise never to question you. Whatever brought you to that sorry shipwreck is your affair. And yet, during the many weeks of the voyage home, I've come to think of you as a friend. And if trouble lies ahead of you in London, if you need help, More money, go! There's a hole in the world like a great black pit, where the vermin of the world inhabit it, and its morals aren't worth what a pig would spit, and it goes by the name of London. At the top of the hole sit the privileged few, making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo, turning beauty into filth and greed. I too have sailed the world, and seen its wonders. For the cruelty of men is as wondrous as Peru, but there's no place like London. There was a barber and his wife, and she was beautiful. A fool Baruch and his wife. She was his reason and his life. And she was beautiful. And she was virtuous. And he was naive. There was another man who saw that she was beautiful. A pious vulture of the law, who with a gesture of his claw removed the barber from his plate. Then there was nothing but to wait. And she would fall, so soft, so young, so lost, and oh, so beautiful. And the lady said? Did she succumb? Ah, that was many years ago. I doubt it. Anyone. No. Now leave me, Anthony. There is somewhere I must go, something I must find out now and alone. But surely we will meet again before I'm off to Plymouth. If you want, you may well look for me around Fleet Street, I wouldn't wonder. Until then, Mr. Topper. A customer!

Wait! What's your rush? What's your hurry? You gave me such a fright, I thought you was a ghost! Oh, for many a time you're 66, you're now 60! All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks. Did you come here for a pie, sir? Do forgive me if me head's a little vague. What is that? What, you think we have the plague? From the way the people keep us all Heaven knows I try, sir, but there's no one comes in even to inhale. Not too vast a winter lad, but what for bail? Mind you, I can hardly blame them. These are probably the worst pies in London. I know why nobody cares to take them. I should know, I make them.

But good?

No, they're worst pies in London. Even that's more like the worst pies in London. If you're doubty, take a bite. Is that just disgusting? You have to concede it, it's nothing but crustin'. Here, drink this, you'll need it. The worst pies in London. And no wonder with the price of meat. What it is, where you get it, never thought I'd live to I didn't think it was a treat finding more animals. What a dying industry. Mrs. Mooney has a pie shop, does her business, but I've noticed something weird. Lately all the neighbours' cats have disappeared. Thought I had it to her. What a cold enterprise, popping pussies into pies. Wouldn't do in my shop. Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick.

And I'm telling you, them pussycats is quick.

No denying, times is hard, sir. Even harder than the worst pies in London. Only lard and nothing more, is that just revolting? All greasy and gritty. It looks like it's molting and tastes like— Well, Pippiny? A woman alone. With the limousine away and the worst pies in London. Oh, sir, times is hard, times is hard. Go on, dear, spit it out on the floor there. There's worse than that down there.

Is it that room up there above the shop? If times are so hard, why don't you rent it out? That should bring in something.

Up there? No one will go near it. People think it's haunted. You see, years ago, something happened up there. Something not very nice. There was a barber and his wife.

And he was beautiful.

A proper artist with a knife, but they transported him for life.

And he was beautiful.

Barker his name was, Benjamin Barker.

Transported? What was his crime?

Foolishness. He had this wife, you see, pretty little thing, silly little nit, had her charms for them, though not a string. Poor thing, poor thing. There were these two, you see, wanted her like mad. One of them a judge, one of them a Every day they'd nudge and they'd wheedle. Still she couldn't part from that needle.

Too bad.

Your thing. So they nearly shipped the whole line off south, they did, leaving her with nothing but grief and a year more cane. Did she use her head even then? Oh no, God forbid.

Poor fool.

Ah, but there was worse yet to come.

Poor thing.

Joanna, that was the baby's name. Pretty little Joanna.

Go on.

My, but you do like a good story, don't you? Well, needle calls on her all polite. Poor thing, poor thing. The judge, he tells her, is all confused. Right. He blames himself for her dreadful plight. She must come straight to his house tonight.

Poor thing, poor thing.

And she goes there, poor dear Puffin. There are then this ball all in masks. There's no one she knows there, poor dear Puffin. She wanders tormented and drinks Puffin. The judge has repented, she thinks, Puffin. Oh, where is Judge Turpin, she asks? He was there, all right, only not so contrite. She wasn't no match for such a cross, you see, and everyone thought it so cruel. They figured she had to be daft, you see, so everyone stood there and laughed, yes, he poor soul. Poor thing.

Would no one have mercy on her? So it is you, Benjamin Barker. Not Barker, not Barker! Todd now. Sweeney Todd.

So changed. What did they do to you down in bloody Australia?

Where is my wife? Where's Lucy?

She poisoned herself. Arsenic from the apothecary on the corner. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen to me.

And my daughter?

Joanna?

He's got her. He? Judge Turpin?

Even he had a conscience sucked away somewhere, I suppose. Adopted a life of his own. And you could say it was good luck for her.

Almost. 15 years spent in a living hell. On a trumped-up charge, hoping that maybe one day he might come home to his loving wife in Staffordshire. Let them quake in their boots, Judge Turpin and the Beadle, for their hour has come!

You're gonna get 'em? You? A bleedin' little nobody of a runaway convict? Don't make me laugh. You'll never get his iron mightiness, nor the Beadle neither, not in a million years. You got any money? Hey, listen to me, you got any money?

No money.

Well then, how you gonna live? I'll live.

If I have to sweat in the sewers or the plague hospital, I'll live. And I'll have them.

Oh, you poor thing. You poor thing. Wait. See, it don't have to be the sewers or the plague hospitals. When they come for the little girl, I hid him. I thought, who knows? Maybe the board's sitting by pulling it back again, you'll need it. Cracked in the head, wouldn't I? Times as bad as they are, I could have got 5, maybe 10 quid for him any day. See, you can be a barber again. Oi, them handles is chased silver, ain't they?

Silver? Yes. These are my friends. See how they listen. See this one shine, how he smiles. Smiles in the light, my friend, my faithful friend. Speak to me, friend. Whisper, I'll listen. I know, I know. You've been locked out of sight all these years, like me, my friend. Well, I've come home to find you waiting. Oh man, we're together and we'll do wonders, won't we? You there, my friend, my girlfriend too.

Let fear hold you.

Now with a sigh, you grow warm in my hand, my friend, my clever friend. Rest now, my friend. Soon I'll unfold you.

You can't be near Mr. Todd.

You'll know splendors you never have dreamed all your days. My lucky friend, till now your sight was dimmed. Merely silver, silver, friend. You shall drip rubies. You'll soon drip precious rubies. At last, my right arm is complete again!

Lift your razor high, for here is He's seen how civilized men behave. He never forgot, he never forgave.

Sleepy, our sweetie dog, the demon barber of Fleet Street.

And how are they today?

Hungry as always, Miss Joanna.

How can you do the leaves sitting in cages, never taking wings? I see the sky awaits, beckoning, beckoning, just beyond the bars. How can you free me, step with the rain, not in vain? The stars. How could you sing anything? How could you sing? Green of the gently-furred nightingale, look but how busy you sing. Whence comes this melody? Constantly flowing? Is it rejoicing or meandering? Are you discussing or fussing or simply dreaming? Are you crowing? Are you screaming? Dove and robinet, is it for pages singing to each other? Have you decided it's safer in cages than singing with your tongue? Oh my, cages many rooms, damp, scant, dark. Nothing there sings, not even My arc arcs never really bowing their captive, teaching me to be more receptive. Strong green of the gently budnightingale blackbird teach me how to sing. If I cannot fly, let me sing.

I have sailed the world, beheld its wonders, from the pearls of Spain to But not even in London have I seen such a wonder. Lady, please don't fail me, fail me. What do you, what do you see up there in those trees? Oh, won't you, won't you be gracious? Who would sail to Spain for all its wonders when in Kearney's lane lies the greatest wonder yet? Ah, miss, look at you looking so pale and ivory-skinned. Oh, look at you looking so sad, so queer. Promise not to retreat to the darkness back in your window. Not you, not you, look down here. Look at me.

Thank you kindly, as you said. Thank you, thank you kindly.

One moment, Mother. Perhaps you could tell me whose house this is?

That? That's the great Lord Turpin's house, that is.

And the young lady who resides there?

Arthur? That's Joanna, his pretty little ward. But don't you go trespassing there, young man. Not if you value your hide. Time for there, and it's a good whipping for you, or any other use for mischief. Hey, boy, sailor boy, look at pretty ship. But never the day I'll be your mate if you be my skipper.

Take it off! Off with you!

Off, I say!

How much for a bullet? All the same, sir, 6 pence and cheaper the price. He sings bravely, but why does he bash his wings so wildly against the bars? We blind them, sir, what we always does. We blind them, and not knowing night from day, they sing and sing without stopping. Pretty creatures. Cheers. Have pleasure of the birds, sir. I was half convinced I'd wake up satisfied enough to greet you. Happily, I was mistaken. Joanna, I'll steal you. Joanna, I'll steal you. Joanna! Joanna! If I see your face on this street or any other neighboring street, you'll rue the day you were born. Is that clear enough speaking? But, sir, I swear I had nothing in my heart but the deepest sentiments of—

Oh dear, I knew it!

You were dismissed. But sir, I have no fight with you! Get the gist of it, friend. Next time it will be your neck. Joanna, if I were to think that you were encouraging that young wolf—

I hope always to be obedient to your commands. Dear child, how sweet you look.

Light, pass the mirror. I'll steal you. Joanna, I'll steal you. Do they think that walls can hide you? Even now I'm at your window. I am in the dark beside you. There reads sweetly in your yellow I feel you, Joanna, and one day I'll steal you. Till I'm with you there. I'm with you there. Sweetly every day, your yellow hair. That's him over there.

Yes, dear, he's always here on Thursdays.

Hair covered in toothful of barbage with royal badge, he the King of Naples.

Italian, all the rage he is.

Not for long.

Oh, Mr. T, you really think you can do it?

Come tomorrow, they'll all be flocking after me like sheep, to be sure.

Oh no, it's Beadle! Beadle Bumpus!

So much the better.

Well, why are you recognizing him? I completely meant to—

I will do what I have set out to do, woman.

I'm sure, dear.

Sorry. Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please? You wake every morning, he's shaving, he's bathing, he's combing your pillow, he's got the way back. Why not not living there? Well, ladies and gentlemen, from now on you can wake it at ease. You may never Never worry, okay? I will show you a miracle ball is rare. Gentlemen, you are about to see something now rose from the dead. From the top of my head, it was Mr. Randy's miracle elixir that would do the trick. That proves that real Pawsy quick sap, did it in a tick sap, just like an elixir ought to do. Wanna buy a bottle, mister? Only costs a penny, guaranteed.

Penny buys a bottle?

I don't know. You don't need a bottle, said Toad. Purr-ally Stimulator Frogsap, you could have my ousa. Tis unique.

Rob Bagley.

Soon you'll love to feed it once a week. Penny buys a bottle guaranteed. Penny buys a bottle promised.

What can it eat? What can it eat?

Gently dab it, let it be a habit. Soon there'll be an upset, somebody can grab it. See, the chap with hair like cherries, you.

Parelli's Youth Parallels. Have you had more bottle than that, dear?

Or are me mam wants that awful stench? Come in and be a mum.

I wish no mum would smell the stench.

Parelli's Miracle Elixir. Anything wants lipsa. Suits proud cows who cry. Parelli's. When they see how bigsa, you get out your bigsa of the cows. What is this?

It smells like piss.

It smells like mouse piss.

It smells like piss from toffee. What is this? Put down that bottle. I want to make this. What is this?

You're so funny. You make a good movie.

Where is this for movies? Yeah, where is this for rallies?

For rallies, activate your boots. Keep it on your boots. That's right.

Go to a rally.

Piranhas, a beautiful habit. Ladies seem to love it.

It's nice, YouTube! And the body money over, and the body money over.

Piranhas, miracle elixir. Go a little wixir, then some buzz. The piranha suit will make it fixer, like a good elixir always does.

Trust the piranhas if your hair looks fixer.

Fix it in a nixer, they'll put a brand new beat. Piranhas, miracle elixir. That'll do the trick, snap. What about the money? What about the money?

Don't you win! The Barber of Kings. Oh, good day, I brought you a kid. And oh, so famous, I wish I did not have it and never to see. My earrings are his. Yes, who says yes?

I am Mr. Sweeney Todd. I have opened a bottle of Peretti's Elixir, and I say to you that it is nothing but an arrant fraud concocted from piss and ink.

He's wrong too. Better to throw your money down the sewer.

Oh, ladies and gentlemen, pay no attention to that madman. Now, who's up next for a magnificent shine? And furthermore, I have seen I service no kings, yet I wager that I can shave a cheek with 10 times more dexterity than any street mountebank. You see these razors?

The finest in England.

I lay them against £5 that you are no match for me. You hear me, sir? Either accept my challenge or reveal yourself a sham.

These are indeed a fine erasers, and a fine extractor too. You will each resist against £5?

I do.

You hear him, the foolish man! Watch and see how he will regret that he's a folly. £5 it is.

Friends, neighbours, who's for a free shave?

Me, Mr. Todd, sir. And me, Mr. Todd, sir.

Fetch me a chair.

Boy, bring the towel, bring the basin. Quickly!

Will Bedo Banford be the judge? Glad as always to oblige my friends and neighbors. Put it there. Ready?

Ready.

Ready? The smoothest, fastest shave is the winner.

No, Signorini, Signorini, thanks a lot, but first for you guys. Signorini, you're looking a map, so I've added the glory to shape it up. Mr. Sweeney, whoever I beg at your garden will proudly say it was only a cardinal. No, it was a pope. I'll show you a chart. A table of odds. I studied at Norton in my youth.

The winner is Todd.

Oh, smooth as a baby's arse! Sir, I vow to skip far death-harder than my own knapsack.

The £5.

The £5? Have a good day, and may the good Lord smile upon you. Signor, merci, signorini, buongiorno, buongiorno a tutti! Who'd have thought it, dear? You pulled it off!

Oh, sir, Mr. Todd, sir, do you have an establishment of your own?

He certainly does. Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlour, above my meat pie shop on Fleet Street.

Strange, sir, it seems your face is known to me.

That's a laugh! Him, me, and my uncle's cousin got to ride from Birmingham yesterday.

And yet already I have heard Beadle Bamford spoken of with great respect. Well, I do my best for my friends and neighbours. Mr Todd, you are in Fleet Street, sir? Above the pie shop, master?

That's it, sir.

Well then, Mr Todd, you will surely see me before the week is out. You will be welcome, Beadle Bamford, and there I promise to give to you without a penny penny's charge, the closest shade you will ever know.

What have I told you? I'll not have trash from the gutter hanging around my establishment! Not just a penny bit more wine? One of them wines that gives stomach cramps to half the neighborhood? Come on, dear, come on, Father. Oh, oh, you Rob Bagley, you were kicking him up so hard that it made your teeth chatter!

Stop the thing!

You and your fancy airs. Oh no, for a desperate woman. It's not much of a chair, but it'll do till you get your fancy new one. It was me poor Albert's chair, it was. Sat in it all day long, he did, after his leg give out from the dropsy. Kind of bare, isn't it? I never did like a bare room. However, we'll find some nice little knickknacks.

Why doesn't the beadle come? Before the week is out, that's what he said.

And who says the week's out yet, dear? It's only Tuesday. Your thoughts nice and sharp, great. Wash them, wash them with glue. Once it bubbles, then what to do? Watch it clamps and let it glue away. I've been thinking flowers, maybe daisies, to brighten up the room. Don't you think some flowers, pretty daisies, might relieve the gloom? I'll wait, love, wait.

And the judge, when do I get him?

Can't you think of nothing else? Always brooding away on your wrongs, whatever, never knows how many years ago. Slow love, slow time, so fast. Now who's quickly sick? Now it's far too far. —will last a day. Don't you know, silly man, half the fun is to plan? Old woodpeas are too close to plan. Maybe stand your daisies. I don't know. What do you think?

Yes.

Gillyflowers, I'd say. Nothing like a nice bowl of gillyflowers.

Anthony! Mr. Todd, I paced Fleet Street a dozen times with no success, but now the sign, in business already. Yes, well, I congratulate you. And, uh, Mrs. Lovett, sir. Pleasure, ma'am. Oh, Mr. Todd, I have so much to tell you. I have found the fairest and most loving maiden any man could dream of, and yet without problems. She has a guardian so tyrannical that she is shut off from you and I. But now, this morning, this key fell from her shuttered window. The surest sign that Joanna loves me. Joanna? That's her name, ma'am. An interpret of that abominable parent. A judge, it seems, but as I said, a monstrous tyrant. Oh, Mr. Todd, but once he leaves her court, I'll slip into her house and plead with her to flee with me. And yet, When I have her, where can I keep her until I have hired a coach to speed us home to Plymouth? Oh, Mr. Torr, if I could just lodge her here for just an hour or two.

Yes, dear, bring her here.

Oh, thank you, thank you, ma'am. I have your consent, Mr. Torr? The girl may come. I shall be grateful for this to the grave, but I must hurry, for surely the judge is off to the Old Bailey.

Joanna! Who'd have thought it, dear? We'll have her back before the week's out.

For a few hours before he carries her off to the other side of England. Oh, that sailor.

Let him bring her here and then send you also off for a little, er, eh! That's the throat to say, dear. Oh, think of it. We'll make a lovely home for her here. Leave you all those years without a scrap of motherly affection. I'll soon change that. For if ever there was a maternal art, it's mine. Good day, Mr. Toad. And au revoir, bellestima signorina. How do you do, senor? I'm sure just a little business with Mr. Pope, if you don't mind, senora. What? Yes, of course, I will just pop on down to me pies then. Her laugh! Look at it now! Looks like that's unkind words sent off last never. What would you say, you know, to a nice juicy big pie? Your teeth is Strong, I hope. Go! Yes, ma'am. Then come with me, though.

Mr. Tont. Signor Pirelli. Oh, call me Danny.

Danny, that begins it. I want it to not professional. I'd like me 5 quid back if any are large mines.

Why?

That's me boy talking. It'll all be over till your customers start coming in, and then it's half your wages every week on Friday. Share and share alike. Do we have a deal, Benjamin Barker?

Why do you call me that?

Well, at least you've got a nice full head of hair on you.

The David Truth Box. It gives off a lot.

You don't remember me? Why should you? I was just a down-and-out Holy Russian lass that you hired on for a couple of weeks to sweep a barrack such likes. But I remember these. And you, Benjamin Barker, later transported to Botany Bay for life. So do we have a deal, or do I run down the street to my good old pal Beetle Bamford? You think I use a mic? You foolish boy, tomorrow you start in my employ. You understand? You like my blue?

Oh, the tailor! Oh, the tailor's waiting with his smartphone. Well, oh, well, you don't know him, no. Wouldn't want to, I'm sure. A wig! Oh, senor! Senor Morelli! I did as you asked, sir. The tailor, I did as you asked, senor. Signor Pirelli has been called away. Where did he go? He didn't say. You best run after him. Oh no, no, no, sir, sir, without orders to the contrary, I best wait for him right here. So Mrs. Lovett gave you a pie, did she, my lad? Oh, indeed she did, sir. One whole pie. One whole pie? And yet if I know a growing boy, there's room in there for more, isn't there? Indeed there is. There is, sir, an aching void. Well, why don't you wait for your master downstairs with Mrs. Lovett? I'm sure there will be another pilot for you. Oh, and tell her to give you a nice big tot of gin, eh? Gin, sir? Oh, I'm thanking you, sir, thanking you. You are a real Christian indeed, sir. Ma'am, the gentleman there says I could have a nice pot of gin. Huh?

Gin, dear? Oh, well, why not?

His hands were quick, his fingers strong.

A little but not for long. Those who thought it a simple flaw were stupid considering under the saw consigned with a friendly frog to Sweeney Todd, the demon barber of Fleet Street. See your razor gleam, sweetie. Feel how well it beats and whirling as it flows across the throats of hypocrites.

This is the fourth time, sir, you have been brought before this bench, and though it is my earnest wish to temper justice with mercy, your persistent dedication to a life of crime is such an abomination before God and man that I have no alternative than to sentence you to hang by the neck until you are dead. Court adjourned. It may be perhaps remiss of me to close the court so early today. The stench of those miserable wretches is so offensive to my nostrils that I fear my veganism, fresh aware of my own sound today, impair the soundness of my judgment. Well, sir, the early adjournment is fortunate for me, for you see, it's today that we celebrate My little Annie's birthday. To have her father home, that would be the crowning jewel on such an amazing day. It is a happy day for me too. Walk over, for I have news for you. In order to shield her from the evils of this world, I have decided to marry Joanna next Monday. Ah, sir, happy news indeed. Strange though, when I offered myself to her, she showed a certain reluctance. That's normal. Humble enough for the young girl. Now that she's had time for reflection, I'm sure she'll greet my proposal with a more sensible frame of mind.

He needs to marry me Monday. What should I do? I'd rather—

I have a plan.

I'll swallow poison on Sunday. That'll help you. I have a plan. Kiss me. Promise. We flight tonight. Tonight. Tonight.

It's not a date. It's not a date. Don't have a date. Don't be missing this. Kiss me. Kiss me. The plan is made to kiss me. Be not afraid to not just see.

To adore.

I'll steal you. It's me you'll never run from, dear. That's what you'll do.

I knew I'd be with you one day, even up there with you.

You are the greatest man in the whole world. I will never forget my first kiss.

Kiss me, kiss me. Sure, I shall kiss me.

Yes, yes, but surely the respect Excuse me, my lord, may I request, my lord, permission, my lord, to speak? Forgive me if I suggest, my lord, you're looking less than your best, my lord. There's powder upon your breast, my lord, and stubble upon your cheek. And the ladies, my lord, are we. Perhaps if she were to greet me cordially, I should give her a small gift. Ladies and their sensitivities, my lord. How fragile sensibility when an urge emergent, prompting —beauty, youth, virtue, her gentility, my lord. Personal disorder can be ignored, given their genteel proclivities. Meaning no offense, it happens they resent it. Ladies in their sensitivities. But, my lord— Stubble, you say? I am perhaps a bit overhasty with my morning ablutions. Fret not, though, my lord, I will replace, my lord, a barber, my lord, of skill. Thus armed with a shaven face, my lord, some eau de cologne to grace, my lord, and musk to enhance the chase, my lord, you'll dazzle the girl and cheer. She bows to your every will. Perhaps you're right. Take me to her. The name is Tom. We best not wait till Monday. If we think right, we best be married on Sunday, or else tonight. What? Talk, talk, talk. Ladies and gentlemen, please stand and sit to your seats. Perhaps it's time you ran along to your governor, dear. No, ma'am, obviously we'll be having that white sherry.

Oh, I'll just pop up and see what Mr. Todd has to say then. Oh, me knees is not what they was, dear. How soon before the Italian gets back? He won't be back. Me? You did? You crazy man! Killing a man won't do you no harm, and, and there's the boy downstairs.

He recognized me from the old days. Tried to blackmail me. Half my earnings forever. Oh, what a relief! I thought you lost your marbles.

That's making it come all over the goose flesh, isn't it? Hey, there's green wood in here. Waste no luck, as I always say. We got to use the old noggin.

Here we are, sir, above the pie shop. I see. You may leave now. Thank you, sir. Thank you.

Now there's still the boy we got to think about, though.

Send him up here.

Him too? Now dear, surely one's enough for today. We shouldn't indulge ourselves. Now let's see, when I left him he was half-seized over with gin in the parlour, so—

Providence is kind!

Who is it? Him. Him? Him? George, it can't be, it can't be! Beat me!

What are you going to do?

Beat me, I say! You're not sure?

You're low on shilling? Because you're tall? Your worship, it is an honor to receive your patronage, my lord.

Seems your governor's gone left you high and dry, but don't worry, your Aunt Nelly will think of what to do with you.

Come on into me lovely back parlour. These premises are hardly prepossessing, yet the beadle tells me that you are the most accomplished barber in all the city. That is gracious of him, sir, and you must excuse the humility of my establishment. It is only a few days ago that I began business. Sit, sir, if you would, sir, sit.

Now this one's empty, so you just sit here like a nice quiet Nice and cozy it is. And I'll go get another bottle from the larder.

And what may I do for you today, sir? A stylish trimming of the hair? A soothing skin massage? You see, sir, a man infatuate with love, her augment and eager slave. So fetch the pomade and pumice stone and lend me a more seductive You're in a merry mood today, Mr. Toft. 'Tis your delight, sir, catching fire from one man to the next. 'Tis true, sir, love can still inspire the blood to pump the heart beat higher and more. What more can man require? Love, sir. More than love, sir? What, sir? Women. Ah, yes, women. Pretty women. Now then, my friend. Now to your purpose. Patience, enjoy it. Revenge can't be taken in haste. My lord! And who, may it be said, is your commended sir? My lord! So pretty as her mother. What? What's that? Nothing, sir, nothing. May we proceed? Pretty women, fascinating, sipping coffee, dancing. Pretty women are a wonder. Pretty women sitting in their windows or standing on the stair. Something in them chills the air. Of pretty women. Stay within you. Stay forever. Breathing lightly. Pretty women, pretty women, blowing out their candles or combing out their hair. Even when they They still are there.

They're there.

All pretty women at their mirrors. Is it gardening? Letter writing? Whether watching how they make a man sing. Proof of heaven as you're living. Pretty women, sir. Pretty women. Yes, pretty women. A pretty woman! Joanna marries me Sunday. Everything set to be tonight. We'll be in Paris by Monday. Out of that heartless tyrant's hands. You! Judge Turpin! There is indeed a higher power to warn me thus far. Joanna, alone with you? I'll lock her up in some obscure retreat where neither you nor any other vile creature shall ever lay eyes on her again. Sir! And as for you, Barber! It is all too clear what company you keep. Service them well and hold them there, Christopher.

You'll have none of mine.

Mr. Todd, out! Out, I said! Always running and shouting.

What is it now?

I had him, and then I saw them bust in the same, and they were both running down the street.

And I said to myself, that's not a buyer at all.

I had him This throne is bare beneath my hand.

There, there, dear, don't fret.

No, I can't get up. This throne is bare and he'll never come again. Hush now, hush now, hush. I keep telling you.

When? What's your rush? Why did I wait?

You told me to wait. Now he'll never come again. There's a hole in the world like a great black pit and it's filled with people or filled with shit. At the moment of The world inhabits it, but not for long. They all deserve to die. Tell you why, this is the moment to tell you why. Because in all of the whole human race, there's a one state put in its proper place, and the one with its foot in the other one's face looking This is not about you. No, we all deserve to die. Even you. This is not even about me. Cut the lies up in between. Then pray for the rest of us dead. We all deserve to die. And I'll never see Joanna. No, I'll never. I want my girl-to-be finished! All right, you, sir! Oh, what a shame! Come and visit your poor friend, sweetie. You, sir! Two, sir! Welcome to the grave! I will have vengeance! I will have salvation! Who, sir? You, sir! No one in the chair? Come on, come on! Sweetie's waiting! I want you, pleaders! You, sir. Anybody, gentlemen, now don't be shy. Not one man, no, nor 10 men, nor 100 can assuage me. I will have you. And I will get it back, even as he floats in the meantime a preface on this honorable throat. And my loom. The city lies in ashes and I'll never see my girl again. But the work waits. I'm alive at last and I'm full of joy.

Very well, but what are we going to do about him? Hey, listen to me! Do you hear me? Can you hear me? Get control of yourself! What are we going to do about him? And there's the boy. I left him asleep in the parlor, but we better go have a look, make sure he's still there. So come on. No problem there, he's still sleeping. Simple as a baby lamb, that one. Later I can fob him off with some story easy, but him? What are we gonna do about him?

Later on after it's dark, we'll find some secret place and bury him.

Well, I suppose we could do that. Don't suppose he has any relatives that are gonna come looking around for him, but, uh, well, you know me, bright ideas just pop into me head and I keep thinking. Seems a downright shame. Shame. Seems an awful waste. Such a nice plump frame, or what his name has. And, and, nor it can't be traced. Business needs a lift, debts to be erased. Think of it as thrift, as a gift, if you get my drift. Seems an awful waste. I mean, with the price of meat, what it is when you get it, if you get it.

Good, you got it.

Take for instance Mrs. Moody and her pie shop. Business never better using only pussy cat and toast. Now a pussy's good for maybe 6 or 7 And I'm sure they can't compare as far as taste.

Mrs. Bumms, water chug notion. And it's time to clean your room. It's always Christmas now. And how I did without you all these years. I never know.

I think I'm already starting to hear some bells in the distance. Also, I'm hearing some bubbles.

Oh my gosh, what's the sound of the world out there?

What, Mr. Tumble? What, Mr. Tumble?

What is that sound? Those crunching noises pervading the air.

Yes, Mr. Darnley, yes, Mr. Darnley, yes, all around.

It's man devouring man, my dear.

And who are we to deny it again?

These are desperate times, Mrs. Lovett, and desperate measures are called for. Here we are, up from the oven. Ooh, what is that? It's grease, Captain Grease. Is it really good?

Sir, it's too good, at least. Then again, they don't dissolve all the flesh, so he's pretty fresh.

A bowl of fat? How many birds is that, Captain? Oh, it's old something. Something like that.

No, you see, the trouble with Moly is how you know it's deceased. Try a priest. Heavenly!

Not as smart as a bishop, perhaps, but they're not as bland as curates either.

And it's good for business too. Always leaves you wanting more. Trouble is, we only get it on Sundays. Moly is rather nice.

If it's for a price.

Or just something else no one should swallow it twice. Anything that's clean. Well, then if you're British and loyal, you might enjoy Royal Marine. Anyway, it's clean. Though of course it tastes of wherever it's been.

Is that squire on the fire?

We all know this is grosser.

Spigot? More like bigger.

No, it has to be grosser. It's green.

The history of the world, my love.

Save a lot of brains to a lot of relatives' favour.

Into those below, serving those up above.

Everybody's shaped, so there should be plenty of flavour. How gratifying.

Wants to know. My bottles of cocktails are best down below.

Let's see then, we've got Tinker. Something pinker. Ah, Taylor. Something paler.

Potter. Something hotter. Butler. Something softer.

Lox, you mean?

Lovely bit of claw.

Maybe for a lark. Then again, there's sweet if you want it cheap and you like it dark. Try the financier, peak of his career.

That looks Pretty rare. Really great.

No, it's fake cashmere. Never really sold it. Maybe it was old. Next week someone told me beetle isn't bad till you smell it and notice how well it's been greased. Stick to grease. Ah, now this one may be a bit stringy, but then of course it's fiddle player.

That's not That's fiddle player, that's piccolo player. Well, how can you tell? It's piping hot. There's snow on it, Fern. The mystery of the world, my sweet, is who gets eaten and who gets to eat.

And Mr.

Todd, who gets to sell? It's all so clear that everybody goes down well with me.

Now let's see, since marine doesn't appeal to you, how about rear admiral? Too salty.

I prefer general. Oh, with or without his private?

With it, extra. What is that? It's Bob!

The finest in the shop!

Or we have some shepherd's pie peppered with actual shepherd on top! I have just begun! Here's a politician so oily, it's served without diet! Not one!

Put it on a lot! Well, you never know if it's going to run!

Try the Friar! Right, it's Friar.

No, the clergy is really too coarse and too mealy.

An actor, that's compacted. Yes, you've always been right, overdone.

Not really. Not ever when you have Judge on the menu.

Right, true, we don't have Judge yet, but I could offer you something you might fancy a bit more.

That's executioner. How generous you talk, my love.

Yes, yes, I know, my love.

We'll take the customers that we can get, highborn and low, my love. We'll not discriminate great from small.

No, we'll serve anyone, meaning anyone and to anyone at all.