Oliver Audition Pieces

Oliver: No – I haven’t.

Dodger: Tired?

Oliver: I’ve been running hard.

Dodger: Oh I see… You must be runnin’ away from the Beak.

Oliver: The what?

Dodger: Now don’t tell me yer don’t know what a beak is, me flash mate?

Oliver: Isn’t a beak what a bird’s got?

Dodger: My eyes – how green! A beak – is a madg’strate, for your hinformation.

Oliver: Do you live in London?

Dodger: When I’m at home. I suppose you want some place to sleep tonight, don’t you? Are you accommodated?

Oliver: No – I don’t think so…

Dodger: Then accommodated you shall be, me old mate. There’s a certain house – and I know a respectable old gentleman lives there, wot’ll give you lodgin’s for nothink, and never ask for the change – this is – and that is id any other gentleman wot he knows interduces yer. If I’m interducing you, I better know who you are – me old china plate.

Oliver: My name’s Oliver – Oliver Twist.

Dodger: And my name’s Jack Dawkins – better known among me more hintimate friands as the Artful Dodger.

You can’t keep the books. They belong to Mr. Brownlow and if he finds out you’ve got them, he’ll be out here after you. I won’t go with you! She’s not my sister! Got not sister – got no father nor mother neither! Bet! Tell them to let me go!

Bumble: You have a cat ma’am, I see… and kittens too, I declare!

Corney: I’m so fond of them you can’t imagine, Mr Bumble. And they’re fond of their home too.

Bumble: Mrs Corney, ma’am. I must say… that any cat… Or kitten… that could live with you ma’am… and not be ond of it’s home…must be an idiot, ma’am, and don’t deserve to live in it.

Corney: Oh, Mr Bumble!

Bumble: It’s no use discussing facts ma’am. An idiot! I would drown it myself – with pleasure! Corney: Then you’re a cruel man… a very hard-hearted man and all.

Bumble: Hard-hearted, Mrs Corney? Hard? Hard-hearted, ma’am? Are you hard-hearted, Mrs Corney?

Corney: Dear me! What a very curious question coming from a single man. What can you want to know for?

Oliver: Please Sir, I want some more

Bumble: More?!

Bumble: You have a cat ma’am, I see… and kittens too, I declare!

Corney: I’m so fond of them you can’t imagine, Mr Bumble. And they’re fond of their home too.

Bumble: Mrs Corney, ma’am. I must say… that any cat… Or kitten… that could live with you ma’am… and not be ond of it’s home…must be an idiot, ma’am, and don’t deserve to live in it.

Corney: Oh, Mr Bumble!

Bumble: It’s no use discussing facts ma’am. An idiot! I would drown it myself – with pleasure! Corney: Then you’re a cruel man… a very hard-hearted man and all.

Bumble: Hard-hearted, Mrs Corney? Hard? Hard-hearted, ma’am? Are you hard-hearted, Mrs Corney?

Corney: Dear me! What a very curious question coming from a single man. What can you want to know for?

Mr Sowerberry: Mrs Sowerberry!

Mrs Sowerberry: (Shrieks off) What is it?

Mr Sowerberry: Would you have the goodness to come here a moment, my dear?

 Mrs Sowerberry: What do you want? Well! What is it?

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

Mrs Sowerberry: Dear me! He’s very small. They’re a waste of time, these workhouse boys – they always cost more to keep than what they’re worth. Still, you men always think you know best. What’re you going to do with him?

Mr Sowerberry: There’s an expression of melancholy on his face, my dear, which is very interesting. He could make a delightful coffin-follower, only for the children’s practice. It would be very nice to have a follower in proportion, my sweet.

Mrs Sowerberry: For once – just for once – you might have a decent idea.

Mr Sowerberry: Mrs Sowerberry!

Mrs Sowerberry: (Shrieks off) What is it?

Mr Sowerberry: Would you have the goodness to come here a moment, my dear?

 Mrs Sowerberry: What do you want? Well! What is it?

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

Mrs Sowerberry: Dear me! He’s very small. They’re a waste of time, these workhouse boys – they always cost more to keep than what they’re worth. Still, you men always think you know best. What’re you going to do with him?

Mr Sowerberry: There’s an expression of melancholy on his face, my dear, which is very interesting. He could make a delightful coffin-follower, only for the children’s practice. It would be very nice to have a follower in proportion, my sweet.

Mrs Sowerberry: For once – just for once – you might have a decent idea.

Charlotte: Hello, Noah, I saved a nice little bit of bacon for you from the aster’s breakfast. Oliver! Shut the door! And take them bits and your tea and go over there and eat ‘em. And make haste, ‘cos they’ll want you to mind the shop. D’you hear?

Noah: D’you hear? Work’us?

Charlotte: Lor Noah! What a tease you are! Let the boy alone.

Noah: Let him alone? I’m giving the boy a change, you silly thing! Ev’ryone lets him alone. His father left him alone – his mother left him alone – they all left him alone except dear old, kind old Noah. Eh, Charlotte? He, he, he!

Charlotte: How’s yer mother? She dead?

Noah: What did she die of, work’us? Shortage of breath?

Charlotte: Hello, Noah, I saved a nice little bit of bacon for you from the aster’s breakfast. Oliver! Shut the door! And take them bits and your tea and go over there and eat ‘em. And make haste, ‘cos they’ll want you to mind the shop. D’you hear?

Noah: D’you hear? Work’us?

Charlotte: Lor Noah! What a tease you are! Let the boy alone.

Noah: Let him alone? I’m giving the boy a change, you silly thing! Ev’ryone lets him alone. His father left him alone – his mother left him alone – they all left him alone except dear old, kind old Noah. Eh, Charlotte? He, he, he!

Charlotte: How’s yer mother? She dead?

Noah: What did she die of, work’us? Shortage of breath?

Dodger: What yer starin’ at? Ain’t yer never seen a gent?

Oliver: No – I haven’t.

Dodger: Tired?

Oliver: I’ve been running hard.

Dodger: Oh I see… You must be runnin’ away from the Beak.

Oliver: The what?

Dodger: Now don’t tell me yer don’t know what a beak is, me flash mate?

Oliver: Isn’t a beak what a bird’s got?

Dodger: My eyes – how green! A beak – is a madg’strate, for your hinformation.

Oliver: Do you live in London?

Dodger: When I’m at home. I suppose you want some place to sleep tonight, don’t you? Are you accommodated?

Oliver: No – I don’t think so…

Dodger: Then accommodated you shall be, me old mate. There’s a certain house – and I know a respectable old gentleman lives there, wot’ll give you lodgin’s for nothink, and never ask for the change – this is – and that is id any other gentleman wot he knows interduces yer. If I’m interducing you, I better know who you are – me old china plate.

Oliver: My name’s Oliver – Oliver Twist.

Dodger: And my name’s Jack Dawkins – better known among me more hintimate friands as the Artful Dodger.

Brownlow: Doctor, do you notice the most extraordinary likeness between that boys face and the portrait of my daughter Agnes? Didn’t I tell you? He was arrested for stealing my pocket handkerchief. It was all my mistake and when the shopkeeper told us what really happened and he was released by the magistrate I brought him here to make what amends I could. But I must confess I find myself strangely attached to the child.

Dodger: Fagin this is my new friend – Oliver Twist! Fagin: I hope I shall have the honour of your intimate acquaintance. We are very glad to see you, Oliver, very! Charley! Draw a tub near the fire for Oliver. Dodger, take off the sausages!

Boy: They’re stale

Fagin: Shut up and drink your gin. Ah! You’re staring at the pocket-hankerchiefs! Eh, my dear there are quite a few of ‘em, ain’t there? We’ve just hung ‘em out, ready for the the wash, the wash. That’s all, Oliver, that’s all. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Oliver: Is this a laundry then, sir?

Fagin: Well, not exactly, my boy. I suppose a laundry would be a very nice thing indeed, but our line of business pays a little better – don’t it boys? Now Oliver, just do everything that Dodger and Charley do. Make ‘em your models, my dear – especially Dodger – he’s going to be a right little Bill Sykes!

Fagin: I’m a real mister, y’know. But can I help it? I JUST LIKE TO LOOK AT IT! This is my little pleasure – a cup of coffee – and a quick count-up. I mean… who’s gonner look after me in me old age? (To Bird) Will you, birdie? Will (Sees Oliver) YOU!! You! Why are you awake? What have you seen? Quick – quick! Speak! I want to hear every detail you saw!

Oliver: I’m very sorry if I disturbed you, sir.

Fagin: Were you awake five minutes ago?

Oliver: No, sir.

Fagin: Two minutes ago?

Oliver: Not that I know of, sir.

Fagin: Be sure – be sure!!!

Oliver: Alright then, I’m sure.

Fagin: Alright then… if you’re sure, I’m sure. Of course, I knew all along, my dear. I was only trying to frighten you. You’re a brave boy, Oliver. A brave boy. Did you see any of the pretty things, my dear?

Oliver: Yes, sir.

Fagin: Ah! – they’re mine, Oliver, my little property. All I’ve got ta live on in me old age. It’s a terrible thing – old age.

Nancy: Where’s the gin Fagin?

Fagin: All in moderation. Too much Gin can be a dangerous thing for a pure young girl

Nancy: And what’s wrong with a bit of danger, then, Mr Fagin? After all, it’s the only bit of excitement we have around here. And who would deny us that small pleasure. Would you?

Dodger: Oh yes, we’re all ladies and gentlemen ‘ere. We’re all quality…

 Nancy: You wouldn’t know quality if you saw it – none of yer! ‘cept Dodge. Have you seen the way them quality gentlemen treat their ladies? Shall we show them how it’s done? Shut up, you lot. How does it go now, Dodge? It’s all “bowin” and “hats off” and “Don’t let your petticoats dangle in the mud my darling”

He’s deceiving you, my good friend. He has had a fever. What of that? Fevers are not peculiar to good people, are they? Bad people have fevers sometimes, haven’t they? He stole your pocket hankerchief, didn’t he? Then he’ll steal more, sir.

Nancy: Where’s the gin Fagin?

Fagin: All in moderation. Too much Gin can be a dangerous thing for a pure young girl

Nancy: And what’s wrong with a bit of danger, then, Mr Fagin? After all, it’s the only bit of excitement we have around here. And who would deny us that small pleasure. Would you?

Dodger: Oh yes, we’re all ladies and gentlemen ‘ere. We’re all quality…

 Nancy: You wouldn’t know quality if you saw it – none of yer! ‘cept Dodge. Have you seen the way them quality gentlemen treat their ladies? Shall we show them how it’s done? Shut up, you lot. How does it go now, Dodge? It’s all “bowin” and “hats off” and “Don’t let your petticoats dangle in the mud my darling”

Nancy: I won’t stand by and see it done, Bill. You’ve got him here – what more would you have? Let’im be, or I shall put my mark on someone, and not care for the consequence.

Fagin: Why Nancy, you’re wonderful tonight. Such talent. What an actress.

Nancy: Am I? Take care I don’t overdo it. ‘cause I’m warning you I’ll put my finger on some of you and I don’t care if I hang with yer. I wish I’d been struck dead in the street before I lent a hand in bringing him here. After tonight. ‘e’s a thief, a liar, and all that’s bad from this day forth, isn’t that enough for yer, without beating him to death!

Fagin: Come, come Sykes, we must have civil words, civil words, Bill. Nancy: Civil words, yes, you deserve them from me. I thieved for you when I was a child, half his age for twelve years since. Don’t you forget it.

Sykes: What did you tell him about us?

Oliver: Nothing

Sykes: That remains to be seen – but if we found out you said anything – anything out of place… I’ll wager that young scoundrel’s told him everything (To Nancy) Stand off o’ me or I’ll split your head against the wall. (she tries to break free) Try and run away, would you? Do you know who you are? And what you are? Well then, keep quiet of I’ll quiet you for a good long time to come. You’re a nice one, coming with all this humane and genteel rubbish. A pretty subject for the “child,” as you call him, to make a friend of.

Now listen to me. Once in this very room, in this very bed I nursed a pretty young cretur’ that was brought into the house with her feet cut and bruised with walking. She gave birth to a boy and died. I robbed her. I robbed her so I did. All she had were round her neck and it were gold.

Choose either Dodger or Oliver.

Dodger: What yer starin’ at? Ain’t yer never seen a gent?

Oliver: No – I haven’t.

Dodger: Tired?

Oliver: I’ve been running hard.

Dodger: Oh I see… You must be runnin’ away from the Beak.

Oliver: The what?

Dodger: Now don’t tell me yer don’t know what a beak is, me flash mate?

Oliver: Isn’t a beak what a bird’s got?

Dodger: My eyes – how green! A beak – is a madg’strate, for your hinformation.

Oliver: Do you live in London?

Dodger: When I’m at home. I suppose you want some place to sleep tonight, don’t you? Are you accommodated?

Oliver: No – I don’t think so…