Текст песни Poor Thing

Todd: [Spoken]
Isn't that a room up there over the shop? If times are so hard,
why don't you rent it out? That should bring in something.

Mrs. Lovett: [Spoken]
Up there? Oh, no one will go near it. People think it's haunted.
You see-years ago something happened up there. Something
not very nice.

Mrs. Lovett:
There was a barber and his wife,
And he was beautiful,
A proper artist with a knife,
But they transported him for life.
(Sighs)
And he was beautiful...
[Spoken]
Barker his name was-Benjamin Barker.

Todd: [Spoken]
Transported, you say? What was his crime?

Mrs. Lovett: [Spoken]
Foolishness.

[Sung]
He had this wife, you see,
Pretty little thing.
Silly little nit
Had her chance for the world on a string-
Poor thing, poor thing.

(As she sings, her narration is acted out. First we see the
pretty young Wife in the empty upstairs room dancing her
household chores. During the following the Judge and his
obsequious assistant, the Beadle, approach the house,
gazing up at the Wife lecherously. The Wife remains sewing)

There were these two, you see,
Wanted her like mad,
One of 'em a judge,
T'other one his beadle.
Every day they'd nudge
And they'd wheedle.
Still she wouldn't budge
From her needle.
Too bad. Pure thing.

(Far upstage, in very dim light, shapes appear. A swirl
of cloth, glints of jewels, the faces of people masked
as animals and demons. During the following lyrics, the
Wife takes a imaginary baby from an imaginary cot and
sits on the floor, cradling it in her arms as she sobs)

So they merely shipped the poor blighter off south, they did,
Leaving her with nothing but grief and a year-old kid.
Did she use her head even then? Oh no, God forbid!
Poor fool. Ah, but there was worse yet to come-
Poor thing.Sweeney Todd - Poor Thing - http://ru.motolyrics.com/sweeney-todd/poor-thing-lyrics.html
(Again the shapes appear, this time a but more distinctly.
Mrs. Lovett speaks, musingly)
[Spoken]
Johanna, that was the baby's name.
Pretty little Johanna...
(Drifts off in reminiscence)

Todd: [Spoken]
Well, go on.

Mrs. Lovett: [Spoken]
My, but you do like a good story, don't you?
(The Beadle reappears, gazing up at the Wife, miming
in a solicitous manner for her to come down. Mrs. Lovett,
warming to the tale sings)
Well, Beadle calls on her, all polite,
Poor thing, poor thing.
The judge, he tells her, is all contrite,
He blames himself for her dreadful plight,
She must come straight to his house tonight!
Poor thing, poor thing.

Of course, when she goes there,
Poor thing, poor thing,
They're havin' this ball all in masks.
(The shapes are now clear. A ball is in progress at the
Judge's house: the Company, wearing grotesque masks,
is dancing a slow minuet. The Beadle, leading the Wife,
appears, moving with her through the dancers. He gives
her champagne. She looks dazedly around, terrified)
There's no one she knows there,
Poor dear, poor thing,
She wanders tormented, and drinks,
Poor thing.
The judge has repented, she thinks,
Poor thing.
"Oh, where is Judge Turpin?" she asks.

(During the following, the Judge appears, tears off his
mask, then his cloak, revealing himself naked. She
screams as he reaches for her, struggling wildly as
the Beadle hurls her to the floor. He holds her there
as the Judge mounts her and the masked dancers
pirouette around the ravishment giggling)

He was there, all right-
Only not so contrite!
She wasn't no match for such craft, you see,
And everone thought it so droll.
They figured she had to be daft, you see,
So all of 'em stood there and laughed, you see.
Poor soul!
Poor thing!

Todd: [Spoken]
No! Would no one have mercy on her?!
(the dumb show vanishes. Todd and Mrs. Lovett gaze
at each other)