Sweeney Todd cast a desultory stare out the grimy window on the top floor of the house. Carriages clattered noisily down the road, sending echoes through the alley below and causing tremors to pass through the building. With a violent burst of anger, Todd leapt out of his chair and paced the room. Dark thoughts kept racing through his mind, and though he tried his best to suppress them, the thoughts enveloped his very existence, driving his soul in a gale of burning madness.
With a curious suddenness, Todd stopped and stared thoughtfully at the ratty old chair. It was cushioned with old and ragged pieces of felted cloth, and the stuffing had all but dribbled out of the threadbare fabric. Splintered pieces of wood stuck out of the sides of the legs and arms. In the faded light from the grimy window, however, the chair seemed to glow with a quiet and tranquil beauty. Todd paced around the chair, eyeing its ripped and aged countenance and its scuffed and broken wooden figure. Then he stopped.
An idea had come to him, swimming up from the depths of his brooding mind. You are like me, he thought to the chair. Old, decrepid, and worn out by the toils of the years. Abused and battered by the whims of time; by the cruelties of fate. ...Who knew? That you and I could be so alike...Yes indee-..." Todd gritted his teeth and clutched his face in his hands. Thinking at a chair, YOU FOOL! he berated himself. And yet... He uncovered his face and paced around the chair once more. The inklings of a plan were starting to take shape. He would take the battered and abused old chair. Polish it up... shine it up... 'till it gleamed with brilliant and ferocious light. He would add various contraptions to its underbelly. He would gird it and weld it, and fuse it with metal and parafin and Lancaster wax. He would make the chair beautiful again. And the ancient design of the piece would add to its hidden fire and would burnish it with a shining glory... Yes, he would make it beautiful again. And then he would implement his plan...
With a smug fluidness, Todd swept his overcoat from the crooked coat-hook beside the door and raced down the creaky stairs. Todd snickered quietly to himself. At last, at last! Those wasted years upon the cursêd slave-galley could be put to good use. His worn and battered hands, though they were roughened and calloused from the years of slave-work, had miraculously maintained their wonderful dexterity.
It was strange, thought Todd as he stepped out the door, how little London had actually changed. He strode out into the bright sunlight and turned left along the busy Carriage-Street. Though it was morning, the street already stank of horse-sweat and refuse; people rushed along the streets and sidewalks, dodging the piles of maggoty rubbish that piled in the gutters. Todd took a deep breath and grinned. Yes! Here was the London he knew! Swarming with pestilence and forgotten mouldering meat. Boiling with subterfuge and bribery and thieves- this was London at its best! Todd cocked his head and paused at a lamppost on the corner of the block. Something unusual was approaching from further down Carriage-Street. A frantic policeman at the intersection ran to and fro, stopping the clattering carriage-traffic and shouting at people to clear from the streetway.
The excited pedestrians from the street suddenly swarmed onto the sidewalk, shoving against Todd, who glared at them in annoyance. After a moment's thought, Todd strode towards the lamppost and leaped onto the post's base. From there he had a clearer view of what was approaching. When he finally saw what it was he drew in a breath of disbelief. It was Magnificent; Even he had not expected such a sight. Merciful heavens, he breathed...
Everyone stood and watched in awe as the ornate carriage passed, and Todd was dimly aware of the hush that spread through the streets. It was as if the sparkling vision had filled the minds of all who were present at the scene. Todd leaned from the pillar and shaded his eyes, squinting at the blinding visage. It was as if the messengers of heaven were in passing. Nosing their way through the intersection, two beautifully-proportioned white horses, clad with glittering brass raiments and silky-blue reins, gracefully drew the carriage over the cobbled streetway. Their white coats shone almost as brightly as the sky-blue exterior of the vehicle. In the front of the carriage, holding the reins, was the driver; his velvety-blue raiment seemed to shine with wealth and glory. The driver flicked the reins and the horses tossed their heads. Todd gawked and stared as the carraige passed; through the carriage curtain he could dimly make out the profile of a lady's head, crowned with locks of tumbling curls. Todd craned his neck over the now-whispering crowd and watched as the visage continued down the street. He continued to watch the carriage as it wound its way past the piles of maggoty garbage, past the femented mounds of filth and spoiled refuse, and past the shattered and decrepit building that he called home. The bright blue sky seemed to rain a shower of golden light upon the rear of the carriage even as it passed between the towering buildings of Carriage-Street. With a final glimmer, the visage entered the subsequent intersection and made a swift left, disappearing beyond the rackety old buildings onto Burginham Street beyond.
Todd kept shading his eyes and staring down the street. The passersby surrounding lamppost had already crossed the intersection, and busy traffic was again clattering and clomping its way over the cobblestones. Todd's mind seemed to have awoken. He had experienced an epiphany of the absolute purest sort. His eyes watered at the memory of the glittering decorations, the sparkling sky-blue sides and the mysterious curtain, thin, elegant, and translucent, behind which that dim yet demure profile had posed with the tumbling locks of curly hair.
Todd stepped from the lamppost and looked up at the clear sky. Something wet tickled his cheek. With a sudden sadness, he realized he was crying.
"Meester! He-y, Meester! Do you like 'orses?" The shrill voice of a child woke him from his reverie.
With a faint stirring of disgust, he looked down and to his left. A diminuitive child of maybe four or five was tugging at his waistcoat, staring at him with beeseeching eyes. He couldn't be entirely sure, but the creature sort of looked like a boy. "Hey Meester! Did you see 'dem 'orses? I seen dem too, I wanna get dat 'orse 'n ride it an' go to th'e market-place an' ride it an' go to the-" Todd stared at the child with growing disgust. He brushed away the child's hand and said roughly, "Go away, kid, I want nothing to do with horses and you shouldn't either. Why," he said suddenly, kneeling down to the child's height, "...why, child, do you know what happened at this very street not ten nights ago?" Passers-by were glancing uneasily at him and the kid, but he grinned at them and went on. "Do you know what happened at this very street?" The child stared dully at him, then a faint spark of curiosity slowly and stupidly lit its eyes with interest. "Waz 'appened?" asked the kid, scratching its matted and filth-encrusted hair.
Todd paused and smiled diabolically. "Well," he said softly, "On this very spot, right where you and I stand at this very moment," he said, "A horse attacked and killed a little boy. The horse killed him, he did! The horse went wild, they say. Wild from the fierce, white moonlight. The horse chewed through its bit, snapped its harness, and ran free down this street. When it reached this lamppost, this very lamppost! Imagine!" Todd pointed conspiratorially at the kid then at the lamppost while smiling benevolently. "That horse," he continued, "Saw the lamp-light and saw the kid. The lamp-light made the horse angry..." Todd stopped smiling and shook his head regretfully. "First it kicked in the child's ribs. Then it bit off the child's ears and swallowed them up! After it ate the ears, that horse snapped the child's legs and chewed off the kid's toes. Then, child, do you know what it did then?" The child silently opened and closed its mouth, wearing a look of total and abject terror. Todd grinned. "Well, child...that horse, it was angry, see. So it picked the kid up by the scruff of the shirt and swung the kid, over and over, violently, against this very lamppost," Todd said, motioning with his hands, "until the kid was a slimy mass of dripping flesh. Then the horse ate the kid. Now, kid," said Todd, staring into the child's deeply frightened eyes, "That kid could have been you..." With a sudden shrill scream, the filthy child leapt away from Todd and darted into the busy intersection, nimbly dodging the swarm of pedestrians and horses. "Aye that's right kid," bellowed Todd, straightening up: "That's why you never pet them blasted horses!" Todd glared angrily at a flabbergasted fat man who was staring at him in disbelief. "Street urchins, I tell yah," said Todd to the man, and spit on the man's shoes. Then Todd turned and plunged into the busy street, taking care to avoid the piles of fermenting garbage.
The world is full of bigotry and filthy urchins, he thought, of maggots and slime, and of darkness and twisted laws. But in the end there is beauty... He thought of the sparkling carriage and horses, and of the demure profile with the cascade of luxurious curls. Someday, he vowed, gritting his teeth, someday I will find a wife who will not betray me. A wife of nobility, of proud parentage and... A painful burst of memory flooded his mind... flowing blonde hair and smiling face, walking beside him in their vibrant green garden, and their child, swaddled in cloth in his arms...
His face hardened. Garbage, people are nothing but garbage! he raged. Swine, the lot of them, nothing but stinking swine! His eyes took in the jovial faces, round bellies, and sumptuous cloth that pushed past him in the street. Swine, swine, the lot of you are all ALL swine... he stopped. The marketplace was less than a quarter hour's walk away. That's where all these people were headed, anyway; today was the Easter Solstice, and the festivities and celebrations had driven many individuals to sell their crafty wares out on the streets of Market Square.
Todd grinned. As he set off towards the market-place, he hummed himself a rhyme:
Off to see the Market-Square,
Fancy a blade to cut them hair
But in the end it's hoped I'll see
Someone with knives which fancy me,
With Sharp Cutting-Stones to grind the edge
Thinner than steels need be to wedge...
Deep in the necks of the Virulous Priests,
The Bastardly Urchins (those filthy beasts),
The Boisterous Bastards who drink naught but wine,
Those Crafty Landlords who steal what is mine,
The Village Thiefs, the Wealthiest Hiers,
The Wealthy Old Duke, those Men Who Wear Hair;
And Legions and Boatloads
of Carpy Old Men...
All will meet steel, and iron, and then...
Fancy, their shells shall all meet their match
Rotting with Flies in the old Rubbish-Patch...
-End of Chapter One-