EPILOGUEAs the audience enters, funeral music plays throughout the theater. Before a front drop depicting in a honeycombed beehive the class system of mid-19th century England, two workmen enter. They pull down the drop. The deafeningly shrill sound of a factory whistle
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"Alms! Alms!
For a miserable woman..."
He digs out a coin and throws it hurriedly into her bowl; he has more pressing matters to deal with.
She peers at him and bows her head subserviently.
"Beg your pardon, it's you, sir ...
Thank yer... Thank yer kindly..."
He gives an absent nod to her before turning back, but alas, Joanna is gone...
Turning back to the begger woman, he lifts a hand inquiringly. "One moment, mother. Perhaps you know whose house this is?"
She tilts her head. "That? That's the great Judge Turpin's house, that is."
He nods slightly, giving a look over his shoulder. "And the young lady who resides there?"
"Ah, her! That's Johanna, his pretty little ward." She gives him a knowing look, eyes narrowing. "But don't you go trespassing there, young man. Not if you value your hide." She nods, tapping his chest with her finger. "Tamper there and it's a good whipping for you - or any other youth with mischief on his mind."
The nearly solemn look slips from her face and she leers at him, drawing close.
"Hey! Hoy! Sailor boy!
Want it snugly harbored?
Open me gate, but dock it straight,
I see it lists to starboard."
She grabs at his crotch and starts to dance around him grotesquely, lifting her skirts. He looks appalled and embarrassed and for a fleeting moment, possibly near tears. He pulls coins out of his pocket and tosses them to her, the embarrassment giving way to anger. "Here and here and here. Take it and off with you. Off!"
Cackling, she collects the coins and scampers off. He turns back to the house, gazing longingly up at the window. The noise has frightened the birds, who start screeching. He becomes aware of them and moves over to the now sleeping bird seller, shakes him awake, and inspects the cages.
"Which one sings the sweetest?"
"All's the same, sir. Six pence and cheap at the price." He birdseller nods, looking rather smug about the high quality of his birds.
Anthony hands a coin over and selects a bird, holding the cage up for inspection. "He sings bravely." Frowning, he looks closer, head tilted. "But why does he batter his wings so wildly against the bars?"
"We blind 'em, sir." He nods solemnly. "That's what we always does. Blind 'em and, not knowing night from day, they sing and sing without stopping, pretty creatures." He gets up, slinging the cages on his back, and starts off. "Have pleasure of the bird, sir."
Anthony looks after him, stricken, before noticing that Johanna has returned. Smiling, he holds the cage up to show her, indicating that it's for her.
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"I feel you,
Johanna,
I feel you.
I was half convinced I'd waken,
Satisfied enough to dream you.
Happily I was mistaken,
Johanna!
I'll steal you,
Johanna,
I'll steal you..."
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"Johanna! Johanna!"
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"Oh dear," she says, scurrying away back to the house, watching the Judge approach in fear.
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"If I see your face again on this or any other neighbor street, you'll rue the day you were born. Is that plain enough speaking for you?"
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Anthony shakes his head pleadingly. "But, friend, I have no fight with you..."
Before he can say another word, the Beadle takes the cage from him, opens its door, takes out the bird, wrings its neck and then tosses it away. "Get the gist of it, 'friend'? Next time it'll be your neck!" He gives a menacing little smile and follows after the judge.
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She runs inside.
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"I'll steal you,
Johanna,
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,
Buried sweetly in your yellow hair.
I feel you,
Johanna,
And one day
I'll steal you.
Till I'm with you then,
I'm with you there,
Sweetly buried in your yellow hair..."
The last note is held for quite a long time before it breaks in a sound of despair. He smashes the cage and tosses it aside before running from the stage.
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