I just saw Sweeney Todd last week, and was absolutely amazed... an incredible show. Wow. But I was most struck by one of the characters, Tobias... so loyal, but betrayed as much as any of the other characters... wanted only a little, but got caught up in a crazed struggle without even knowing it. All he did was love. He did perhaps the least of any character, but he was struck the hardest, and only because he trusted the most. Characters like that, I want to protect them... but it's all in the story... but I can relate to him, and this is my tribute to my favorite character. Tobias - the innocent loyal of Fleet Street.
I didn't throw up because of the blood, or what that… that was in the bucket. No, I'd seen worse'n that, ate worse'n it, like that rat I'd caught in the street, trying to get at Signior Pirelli's potion. I was hungry that day, I was. But here…
It wasn't the blood, not that nor the human flesh that made me sick. Mrs. Lovett… she'd taken me in. I'd thought she was wonderful… she was rough like the others, but she had a heart of gold, she cared like a mum. I saw, even with all her sayings that she was no better'n any lot. She was, and she was kind. I would protect her no matter what, I'd do anything. Pirelli, I was loyal, but Mrs. Lovett… whatever it took, for her, I'd do. For she couldn't see the man would charm her and betray her, could she, no, but he wouldn't hurt her. Not while I was with her.
Just show me something I could do! Just anything, something I could help her for, other'n helping at the shop. I drew people to her, least I tried, got customers in, but sometimes I couldn't tell whether I was getting them in or drivin' 'em away. She didn't have holes in her stockings any more though, so something was good, but not that man. He could hurt her, held the knife to her throat, almost – he didn't see she hoped for him, she wanted him to really see her. He never did. She would've died for him but he only killed, as I learned, just that to keep his eyes gray, keep 'em from seeing. She wasn't alone, I was with her – why was she alone?
I would protect her. I'd always protect her. I tried, I did… but what was after her, she ran to it, to its arms that would crush her, smash like the dough in the silver plate when I pounded it, soft as that, too. I had to keep it away, stop the monster, but she's grasping at it, it made her small and caught up, like spiders' webs spun bright redly...
Three times, she said, grind it three times… grind it with the three blades he held, and the meat would be sweetly smashed, marked and smashed with the lady, the man, and the hopes for the lives – all had 'em, all kept them, then all ground together in three strokes. One, he's betrayed, two, she's betrayed, three, I'm, no, not going to give in, I won't let it hurt her, and then it has, awful trueness spills out in the bucket's mush. The old woman's gone – not Lovett, she's naught but meat now, meat for the monster's meal, and the monster's sleeping now, while I carve his name, the dome's so round and cold – doesn't move, good because I would tear him apart for what he's done to… but it was she who'd done it, but no, t'wasn't her anymore, isn't her anymore now, pile of meat and you grind it three times to make it all right, make it so the people will like it and not recognize it and not ever find it except in their own mouths…
Ladies and gentlemen, may I… please…