Dick Whittington

13–16 depending on doubling (5M, 4F, 7M/F*) plus chorus

Main parts

DICK Whittington, the brave but impoverished hero, principal boy, large part (M/F)

Mr FLUFFLES, his spoilt drama-queen cat with secret powers of dance-battling, large part (M/F)

ALDERMAN Fitzwarren, affable pie shop proprietor, medium part (M)

ALICE Fitzwarren, the alderman’s beautiful daughter, principal girl, medium part (F)

Idle JACK, the alderman’s lazy assistant and Sarah’s son, comic, large part (M)

SARAH the cook, the pie chef, dame, large part (M)

KING (or Queen) RAT, the baddie, with aspirations to rule over London, large part (M/F)

SPLAT the rat, King Rat’s sidekick, medium part (M/F)

NAT the rat, King Rat’s sidekick, medium part (M/F)

Fairy BOWBELLS, medium part (F)

Captain Gregory GROG, a drunken ship’s captain, medium part (M)

Supporting parts

The PHARAOH of Egypt, small part (F)

Lazy SUSAN, a courtier, small part (F)

A cockney chimney SWEEP, small part (M/F)

The KING, a King Charles impersonator, small part (M)

A MUMMY, non-speaking “ghost” small part (M/F)

Chorus parts

RATS
LONDONERS
SAILORS
BELLS
EGYPTIAN COURTIERS

The script includes the opportunity for small speaking roles for some chorus members.

*Despite the gender suggestions given, it would be possible to adapt some parts to the actors available.

JACK: (To audience) What do you think, boys and girls? Shall I ask her now? (Audience react)

ALICE: Ask me what, Jack?

JACK: All right, it’s now or never. Um, Alice?

Enter DICK, who mimes speaking to TRADERS behind them

ALICE: Yes, Jack?

JACK: You know your birthday tomorrow?

ALICE: Oh, yes. Daddy’s showing Sarah my gift now. I can’t wait to see what it is.

JACK: And your dad’s given us the morning off work before we set off on the big sea voyage?

ALICE: Yes?

JACK: Well, I wondered if you, um… if you wanted to go out with me. (ALICE has caught sight of DICK and is gazing at him dreamily) I could buy you a Flump. I mean, it doesn’t have to be a Flump. It could be a Chupa Chup. As long as it doesn’t cost more than 17p because that’s all I’ve got.

ALICE: (Still staring at DICK) Gosh!

DICK approaches the front of the stage

DICK: Oh, it’s no use. I must have spoken to all the shopkeepers in London and not a single one has a job for me. So much for the land of opportunity. (He spots ALICE gazing at him) Gosh!

ALICE: (Barging JACK out of the way) Hello. I’m Alice Fitzwarren.

DICK: (Dreamily) Dick.

ALICE: I beg your pardon?

DICK: Dick. (He pulls himself together) Dick Whittington. That’s what they call me, because… it’s my name.

ALICE: I’ve never seen anyone like you before, Dick. I bet you come from somewhere dead exotic.

DICK: Yes, I’m from [local place]. Alice, are you feeling what I’m feeling?

ALICE: Yes, I think I am.

SONG 2: DICK and ALICE

ALICE: What’s brought you here to London, Dick?

DICK: I came looking for work, but no one seems to have a job for me.

ALICE: Yes, business is bad. But never mind that. Are you busy tomorrow? Only it’s my birthday, and my father says I can have the morning off. I thought you might like to, you know… go out.

JACK pushes between them

JACK: Er, hello? Aren’t we forgetting something, Alice? I believe I already asked you out for Chupa Chups and Flumps tomorrow.

ALICE: Oh, Jack, me and you can hang out any time. (She turns to DICK) Dick, this is my best friend, Idle Jack. Jack, this is Dick Whittington.

JACK: Well the lady is otherwise engaged tomorrow, Mr Dickington, because I asked first. So have that [raspberry].

ALICE: (To DICK) Excuse me while I have a word with my friend. (She takes JACK aside) Look, I’m trying to get a date here.

JACK: But I was going to take you on a date.

ALICE: I mean a real date, silly sausage. You know, like when a girl likes a boy, and he (whispers) and then she (whispers). And then they both (long whisper). And then everyone lives happily ever after.

JACK: You’ve been reading Fifty Shades again, haven’t you?

ALICE: Oh, please, Jack. Dick’s so handsome (DICK preens to the audience) and strong (DICK flexes muscles) and just such a sweet little fluffy duckling that I want to put him right in my pocket (DICK looks disgusted). It’ll make me so happy.

JACK: Will it really?

ALICE: Oh, yes! It is my birthday, after all. The only gift I want this year is Dick.

JACK: All right. If it means that much to you, Alice.

ALICE: Jack, you’re the best! (She hugs him and returns to DICK) So what time do you want to pick me up, Dick?

DICK: I’d love to take you out, Alice, but I haven’t got a penny to scratch my bum– I mean, I haven’t got any money.

ALICE: And I haven’t had any pocket money from Daddy for weeks. (She looks hopefully at JACK)

JACK: Oh, no. You two are not having my last 17p.

Enter FLUFFLES. He is wearing loads of London tourist tat

DICK: Now I can introduce you to my best friend too! Alice, Jack, this is my pet cat Mr Fluffles.

FLUFFLES approaches, looking bored and scrolling on a mobile phone. He pauses to take a selfie

DICK: Where’ve you been all this time?

FLUFFLES: Seeing the sights. And I must say, a bigger dump I’ve never set foot in. Streets paved with gold indeed! I don’t know what I stepped in just now but it wasn’t a precious metal. Have you got a job yet? My belly’s rumbling.

DICK: Sorry, Fluff. It’s turning out to be harder than I thought.

FLUFFLES: What? No food? (He leans dramatically against a pillar) Fine. If you can live with this hungry pussy cat’s untimely death on your conscience, so be it.

JACK: What a drama puss!

ALICE: He’s a funny sort of cat. What’s he like as a pet, Dick?

DICK: Well, he’s lazy, greedy, selfish, vain, staggeringly disloyal, and he has this habit of sticking his backside in your face while you’re watching television. He’s a cat, basically. (Changes tone to sickening sweetness) But he’s also the sweetest, cutest Mr Flufflewuffles in the whole world. Fluff, roll over and let the nice lady scratch your tum-tum.

FLUFFLES: I beg your pardon?

DICK: (Ignoring him) And, he does tricks!

JACK: Such as what?

DICK: Well, he can talk.

JACK shrugs

DICK: Tough crowd. All right, watch this.

A boombox appears. DICK takes a tape from his pocket and it plays a musical montage: can-can, Scottish dancing etc. FLUFFLES acts as if hypnotised, performing energetic actions for each piece of music. Finally it plays the opening bars of “Memories”, and FLUFFLES raises his arm as if about to start singing. DICK hastily switches it off. FLUFFLES blinks as if unsure where he is.

ALICE: Oh my goodness, that was amazing!

DICK: You wouldn’t say that if you’d heard him sing.

JACK: So can you get him to do anything, just by playing the right music?

DICK: Yeah, weird, isn’t it?

FLUFFLES: Get who to do anything?

ALICE: (Stage whisper to DICK) Doesn’t he remember?

DICK: No, he never does. (He approaches FLUFFLES and pats his cheeks) Nothing to worry about, Fluff. You have a rest.

FLUFFLES: I do feel tired. I suppose it’s the lack of food. (He looks into the wings) Ooh, there’s a nail bar! My poor chipped claws are desperate for some Shellac. I’m out of here.

Exit FLUFFLES

DICK: I hope I can find some work soon. Mr Fluffles isn’t the only one with a rumbling tummy.

ALICE: (Glancing offstage) Here come my father and Sarah. (She clutches DICK’s arm) Maybe he can give you a job! He’s always saying he could use another pair of hands around the shop.

JACK: You what? He can’t even afford mine and Mum’s wages, let alone this no-hoper.

DICK: I don’t know much about pies, Alice. (He takes her hands) But I’d love to stay close to you.

JACK: (To audience) I do not like him, folks. I don’t care if he is the hero. No one gets away with muscling in on my Alice.

SARAH: So this is the galley of the Saucy Sally.

JACK: You’re a poet and you don’t know it. What’re we doing in here, Mum?

SARAH: We’re going to bake some scrummy pies for the sailors’ tea, aren’t we? It’s hungry work splicing yardarms and hoisting mainbraces. Here, put this on.

She hands him a pinny. JACK puts it on

JACK: Now what?

SARAH: Now I need the big mixing bowl off the high shelf. Fetch me a stepladder.

Exit JACK. He re-enters with a stepladder

JACK: How are you, kids?

AUDIENCE: I’m all right, Jack!

JACK: (Holding up the stepladder) This is my stepladder. My real ladder left when I was eight.

SARAH: OK, put it under the shelf so I can climb up for the bowl.

He positions the ladder and she mounts the first step

SARAH: Hold on to the bottom so I don’t fall.

JACK mugs to the audience then places one hand tentatively on her buttock

SARAH: The bottom of the ladder, you teapot!

JACK: Oh, right.

He holds the ladder while she climbs up, giving him a view up her skirt

SARAH: (Examining the bowl) Hmm. I must say, it’s seen better days.

JACK: (Looking up her dress) You can say that again.

SARAH: And look, it’s got a big crack right down the middle!

JACK: Yes, I can see that.

SARAH: Ooh, isn’t it a spotty one?

JACK: No comment.

SARAH: Oh well, it’s the only one I’ve got. (She climbs down with the bowl and takes it to the counter)

JACK: Shall I fetch the ingredients?

SARAH: No need. We can use the magic telephone.

JACK: Magic telephone?

SARAH: That’s right. (A stagehand brings it on) The alderman picked this up for me on his last trip overseas. It takes all the hard work out of baking.

JACK: I like the sound of that. How does it work?

SARAH: You just tell it what you want. For example, I take my bowl like so. I approach the phone like so. And I say into the speaking tube: a bowlful of flour is just the thing to make a pie fit for a king.

She steps to one side, holds up the bowl and flour is piped neatly into it from the speaking tube. SARAH takes it back to the counter and hands the bowl to JACK

SARAH: Now you try it. Go and get me some water.

JACK: All right. (He takes the bowl to the phone) May I have some water, Magic Telephone?

The tube squirts water into his face. Hardly any goes in the bowl. He goes dripping back to SARAH, deadpan, to show her the bowl

SARAH: Oh no, that’s not nearly enough. Go get some more.

JACK: But I’m all wet!

SARAH: Well you didn’t do it properly, did you? This time, say a rhyme about water and step to one side.

JACK: Right. (He takes the bowl back to the telephone) A rhyme about water and step to one side.

The phone squirts him in the face again

SARAH: No, no, no. Don’t say “a rhyme about water and step to one side”.

JACK: But you just told me to!

SARAH: I meant, make up a rhyme about water then move out of the way. Here, watch me again. (She approaches the phone and takes the bowl from him) A bowlful of flour is what I need to make a pie that’s a slap-up feed.

She steps to one side and holds the bowl out for the flour to fall into

SARAH: Now you try it.

JACK: Right. (He takes the bowl) Send me some water, now there’s a good chap, and if you squirt me again I’ll sell you for scrap.

He stands aside and waits. Nothing happens

JACK: It’s broken.

SARAH: Try a different rhyme. Be nice to it, I don’t think it likes you.

JACK: How about some water, you rotten machine? Then I’ll make a pie that’s fit for a queen.

He stands aside and waits. Nothing happens

SARAH: You see, you insulted it and now it won’t cooperate. Be nice, Jack.

JACK: Fine. But you can stand there with the bowl.

He positions her in front of the tube and speaks from one side

JACK: Now be a good phone and send water up please, and we’ll whip up a pie they’ll call the bee’s knees.

They wait. Nothing happens

SARAH: How odd. Perhaps it’s blocked.

JACK: Let me see.

JACK pushes SARAH aside to peer into the tube, and is immediately squirted with water and then pelted with flour. He turns to mug at the audience

SARAH: Modern technology, eh, folks? You can’t beat it.