E. Barney of Scott's Bluff had been accused of converting over fifteen thousand dollars
from the Hormoil Company at Scott's Bluff for his own use now Kfab and Almaha
joints NBC NBC News This is Wally Robinson. The continuing crisis in Iran and
the brand Lewin in Afghanistan were cited by the White House tonight as being too
pressing to allow President Carter to go to Iowa for his schedule of debate with
Senator Edward Kennedy and Governor Jerry Brown. There has been a great deal of
reaction to the move from Democratic Republican candidate alike, and most of it is
negative. The latest to comment is Tom Quinn, Jerry Brown's campaign manager,
the President's decision is an insult to the people of Iowa and the entire nation.
Mister Carter has been making a run twenty phone calls today two Iowa politicians,
and I personally find it difficult to believe that he can politic by a
telephone every night but cannot find the time to appear face to face with his
two opponents. Republican John Anderson of Illinois said the decision lends credence to the
contention that the President is politicizing the Iranian situation in order to tighten his grip
on the White House. The Kennedy forces are playing it more pragmatically. They
offer to move the location of the debates and exclude any Iranian content if that
would get the show on the road again. So as to say that Kennedy
camp is very keen for the confrontation, feeling it's vital if their managed to
get his flagging campaign moving again. More to use after this tax breaks that
may be in store for the nineteen eighty election year. If you miss this
major story, you haven't been reading the Wall Street Journal, And in today's
economic turmoil, you can't afford to lose touch with what's happening in every phase
of business. So have a pencil ready for an important offer that will help
keep you informed. Other journal articles reported the facts of Detroit's tailspin, the
latest reading on the economy, and the cloudy outlook for retailers this Christmas season.
You would have read about the encouraging prediction about oil supplies and the bleak
outlook for municipal financing in the state that started the tax revolt. Another article
examined aluminum stock. They're beginning to reflect fears of a long, deep precession.
The Walls three Journal, it's all the business news you need when you
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That's one hundred copies for only twenty two dollars, a real money saving offer.
So in the continental US call this toll free number now eight hundred sixty
four eight five three two two. That's eight hundred sixty four eight five three
two two except anovadad you'll be built later. Diplomatic missions are underway to deal
with both the Iranian and Afghan situations. Secretary of State Vans will lead the
delegation at the UN tomorrow. The NBC News has learned that economic sanctions against
Iran will not immediately be sought. Apparently, Secretary of State bow Time has
a chance to meet and negotiate directly with the Iatlesomny and the US will therefore
hold off for ten days. Deputy Secretary of State Fristomers to meet with our
allies seeking a common response to the Soviet intervention in Afghanistan. Meanwhile, Richard
Valeriani reports that State seems to be hamstrung, and its dealings with Arvenians in
this country too are December twelve, the State depart ouder of the Iranian Embassy
Washington to cut its staff from sixty to fifteen and to reduce the number of
people working in four Iranian consulates around the country from about one hundred and sixty
people to a total of twenty five in each consulate. The top Iranian diplomat
here was given five days to comply with the order, but sixteen days later,
the Iranians still had not given the State Department a final list of the
thirty five diplomats and who operate their embassy and consulates. They did submit one
list, but then said they wanted to revise it, and a revised list
has not yet been presented. Nor does the State Department know which Iranians,
if any, have actually left the country. Officials here say they're still working
on getting the problem resolved. Richard Valerian NBC News at the State Department.
This is NBC News. Kodak invites you to remember the special moments that make
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inviting one and all to join us as two of the nation's top rated
teams battle it out the rose Ball New Year's Day on many of these NBC
stations, The holidays have always been attended by various discomforts, usually brought on
by enjoying one's meals too much or enjoying one's eggnow too much. George Gober
once called it being overserved. Now you can add another melody, profiled by
NBC's Rob Shockey in Los Angeles. A problem for many over the holidays is
insomnia. It occurs whenever regular daily patterns are disrupted, but what researchers are
learning about it may put us to sleep. Insomnia is sexist. More women
suffer than men. It's often caused by a gritney of phobia, fear of
not being able to sleep. Caffeine and nicotine are also causes. Both are
stimulants. Alcohol can be too, making a nightcap an eye opener. Sleeping
bills lose effectiveness after a few days. But what will work is protein because
it contains a natural sedative. Next time the Sandman stays away, proby a
high protein dinner and a glass of milk at bedtime. Molly Robinson, NBC
News in Omaha and Council Blast, we have twenty nine degrees and some light
snow. Lincoln, Cloudy's guys and thirty This is kfav and Omaha now the
mystery theater. Come in and welcome. I'm e. G. Marshall.
By the time this settlement of immigrants established itself as the United States of America,
it had already produced, alongside its statesmen and traitors, various writers of
distinction who would come to be respected and admired all over the civilized world.
Once the new Republic was formed and proclaimed the land Burgin with many more of
whom one was Washington Irving born in New York City in seventeen eighty three,
The drama were about to present for your enjoyment is a free adaptation of one
of his stories. But Godfried, you live like a solitary. You live
like a lunklot at all, Karl, Paris is full of women, fastidious,
flirtatious, fascinating. I love them all. That's all very fine,
But there should be one one in particular. There is I see her every
night? Where is she? Why haven't I met her? Because my dear
friend, she lives in my dreams. Our mystery drama The Guillotine was written
especially for the Mystery Theater by Elspeth Erik and stars Paul Heckt. It is
sponsored in part by Contact, the twelve Hour Cold Capsule and True Value Hardware
stores. I'll be back shortly with that one. Kodak invites you to remember
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visit Dean's Downtown or Dean's Countryside Village Camera Center. If you think it takes
you a long time to make yourself look good, just think it took national
parks thousands of years to become the natural beauty they are when you visit them.
Today, But will they still be that beautiful when you leave? Everyone
likes to have a good time, but litter is no fun for anyone.
So remember, leave your footprints on the trails, but leave your candy rappers,
film boxes, lunch bags and other trash in the trash cans. The
Park Service provides this message from your National Park Service, US Department of the
Interior, oh On Council blocks at twenty nine degrees in light, snow,
Lincoln thirty degrees and some cloudys. Guys, this is kfab. In eighteen
twenty five, a collection of short stories by Washington Irving was published under the
title of Tales of a Traveler. One section of the book is charmingly headed
Strange Stories by a nervous Gentleman. And it is from this section that we
have chosen the tale that follows one we call the Guillotine. I am of
a brooding and introspective nature. It has always been thus. It was never
that I scorned the follies and the fripperies of this world. Indeed, I
begrudged others their free and easy access to such vanities, their effortless enjoyment of
them, with a profound and a scorching envy that was driving me to the
very edge of my self control. I felt about to howl with a torment
of my incapacity. In my agony, I turned to the only friend I
had, my fellow student, my compatriot, the sole human who had tolerated
my intolerable moods without blame, without censure. What surely would have finished me
off without abandoning me? Godfried, Godfried, my dear friend. Help me,
Carl, help me, But of course, just tell me what I
can do. I don't know. Is it money you need money, money?
If it were only money, it is myself, my tortured, restless,
squirming self that looks for rest and cannot find it, that searches for
peace and watches it retreat with every step I take. Desperation tracks my heels
when I walk the streets, Melancholy meets me at every corner, and gloom,
deep, impenetrable gloom fills the house where I live. Godfried, you
are so much more clever than I clever. If you call me clever,
you shut yourself away from other heart nor not from you. You are my
link to life, my only tie to the real world. About me,
Then let me tell you straight out what I think. Your manner of living,
your fevered absorption in your studies, your avoidance of the company of most
men and all women, that I never know what to say to. That
all these things combine, godfreed, have impaired your health. You are haggard
and pale. Your shoulders are bent. Your eyes have a look that is
not quite of this world. Forgive me, my friend, if I speak
roughly or no, you speak truly. But I think it is not alone
your body that is failing. I think your imagination has become forgive the word
diseased. Have I said too much? Have I gone too far? I
must tell you that of late I have been studying many philosophical theories, not
just the recognized ones, but those more obscure, more perhaps radical. You
have the mind for such weighty things. Got fear gone back to the Egyptians,
to the Hindu. I walked with Paracelsus in his garden. Of late,
I've immersed myself in the teachings of Swedenborg and his New Jerusalem Church.
Swenborg, I don't think I know. He's a Swedish philosopher, a religious
writer. He died a few years back. But he claimed to have established
direct communication with a spiritual world? How did he do that? Through the
opening of his spiritual senses? And you can you has that happened to you?
Of course not. It didn't happen to Swedenborg until he was fifty seven
years of age. But it might happen, or something very like it might
happen to me. If only what godfried, if only was only I could
escape, escape whom? Escape? What an evil influenced car? It hangs
over me night and day. Oh, how can you say such thing?
Because I know them to be true? There's an evil genius, a vile
spirit whose sole intent is to ensnare me and to ensure my damnation. You
really believe? It is not so much a matter of believing card It is
a matter of conviction, conviction that it is so, and being convinced that
it is so it is so. I think I can understand that. No,
I am not sure. I have never been given over much to fancies
of that sort. I'm more of a practical man, you might say.
Still, in a way, I can understand how a man like yourself could
seize upon such an idea and become a well, let's say, a victim
of it. Yes, yes, you've hit on the word car. I
am a victim, a victim of my own imagining. Yes, you are
exquisitely correct. Well, then if I could go on and make a further
suggest to my homies, speak out. It's my thought that you should leave
here and go to Paris. Paris. You could finish your studies there as
well as here. The Sorbonne is as fine a university as one could wish,
and Paris is such a splendid city. A change of scene, a
change of company, perhaps female company in particular. Who knows what all that
might do for you? Yes, who knows? At first it seemed that
Paris might indeed be the answer to my dilemma. The revolution was breaking out
and beginning to spread. I had studied Jean jac Crusoe's Social Contract paragraph by
paragraph, and his theory of the equality of man and representation or government had
captivated my mind more than that delirium of the people of Paris. Their further,
their ecstasy. It seemed that simply to leave in such an atmosphere would
be enough to cleanse my mind of its morbidity. I found myself a room
on a narrow, dark street in the Latin Quarter, not far from the
monastic walls of the Sorbonn. The concierge who showed me my quarters was as
gloomy as the street itself. There it is two fronts. It has a
window. You can see that it has. Ah. Yes, I'll need
a table to put in front of the window. Could you arrange that?
And a straight chair to put in front of the table. Is that possible.
I am a student at the Sorbonn. I will be doing some writing.
Arrange it. Could you also arrange for an armoir. I have only
a very few clothes, but I will wear on nails on the wall.
Oh yes, yes, I see. Now about bookshelves, I have very
few clothes, but I have a great many books, and I expect to
have more. So I have no bookshees. I see. Well for the
time being, I suppose I can stack them on the floor or under the
bed. I'll manage two francs. Oh yes, yes, of course,
there you are. The students at the sorban seemed very excited about the uprising.
Students are always excited about something. The establishment of the National Assembly a
gesture open, but I'm it confirmed the revolution. The king will never again
be absolute. If not the king, then it will be another. How
can you be so pessimistic? Why the day the people captured the bastill,
I was not here, but I heard of it. The King went to
the guildhall, he gave in. He even wore the red, white and
blue cockade. I was told that is true, isn't it? Ah?
Yes? Well, then the arrest of the royal family, yes, yes.
And the march on Paris from Marseilles, Oh, what a thrill they
managed eighteen miles a day, I am told. Imagine that in midsummer,
and drawing their cannon with him. Nobody of men has ever accomplished such an
extraordinary feat. Yes, yes, the King, the Queen, the dauphin,
all imprisoned in the tower of the Temple Highest. And the establishment of
the Committee of Public Safety. You approve? How could I not approve?
Madame with a great Marah heading a committee. My rise, a mad man,
not mad, or if he is not quite sane, that is due
to his ardent belief in equality and government by general consent. The massacres of
September more than a thousand killed. Well, I know very little of that.
You know very little of anything, monsieur. It's your youth. Perhaps
I should be general sent God it that. Well. It's true. I'm
young, but I am not completely ignorant of the world in its ways.
Not completely you are. You are ignorant, and you are argan. Madame,
I must protest. Have you heard of a man called Robespierre? Yes,
I've heard of him. He is idolized by the people. He will
join the Committee of Public Safety before the year is out, and the king
will lose his head. Yes. In January of seventeen hundred and ninety three,
King Louis the sixteenth was guillotined. Six months later, Robespierre joined the
Committee of Public Safety. Hundreds upon hundreds passed before the Revolutionary Tribunal and were
executed. Don't the man I had idealized was among the victims. So was
Madame Elizabeth's sister to the king, So was the Queen. I sickened and
turned away. The terror had begun, and I shrank from the sight of
it. I spent the better part of my days in the libraries, those
catacombs of departed authors, rummaging among their hordes of dusty and obsolete works.
In quest of food for my unhealthy appetite. I became, in a manner
of speaking, a literary ghoul, feeding in the Charnel House of decayed literature.
Washington Irving was born just as the seeds of the French Revolution were starting
to Germanagh. By the time he was of school age, the revolution had
been confirmed by the establishment of the National Assembly. At the age of eight,
he was old enough to hear from his elders of the march on Paris
in the spring. His ninth and tenth years must have been filled with rumors
of the ex acutions in Paris, ears which came to be known as the
Terror. I'll be back shortly to continue with Act two. The next time
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Oma, Washington. Irving started out to become a lawyer, but his health
was not robust, and, as was very much the habit with doctors of
his time, he was advised to travel abroad and so build up his constitution.
We shall never know what sort of lawyer he might have become, but
we know for a certainty that he developed into a first class writer. And
it was his early visit to Europe which roused his interest in the Gothic tales
of terror and romance, such as the one we have adapted for you.
It would have been just as well had I never come to Paris. I
was as lonely here as I had been at home, as incapable of establishing
human contact. As ever. I sank deeper and deeper into my studies of
writers long deceased, and saw no one, no one at all but the
old crone who was concierge of the establishment where I had my cell like chamber.
Yes, who is it? Come in? Someone to see you?
But me there, someone who wishes to see me? So he says,
who is it? Didn't you ask him? He spoke as though he knew
you from elsewhere, as though you were old friends. Carl? Did he
say his name is Carl? I told you. He didn't say. I
didn't have of course, it's of course it's Car. Who else could it
be? What shall I say to him? Your friend? Well, I
ask him kindly to come up at once. If he we all, I'll
come down anything at all. Tell him he's most welcome. Would you believe
it? I was trembling all over clumsily. I tried to put the room
into some kind of order. I kicked books under the bed. I scraped
together the papers and notebooks from my table and tried to stack them into a
semblance of neatness. And I patted the narrow little bed and drew the spread
more evenly over its lumpy surface. I was scurrying about like the most frantic
housewife when I heard Carl's voice from the door where it's only I, you
know that very only only you, car car. Come in. Please sit,
Carl. I am so happy to see you. You don't know,
you just don't know. I am happy that you. I had to have
someone to talk to, someone, someone like you, someone who who understand,
and I did not know to now to this very moment, how much
I have needed someone I could talk to to open my heart to wait.
Now, you mean there's been no one here in Paris, No, no
one at all. I have spent my time at the Sorbon, in the
libraries, in the museums, s Godfried. No one can live entirely within
libraries and museum. Yes, I know. The moment I saw you standing
there, I knew. It begins to look as though I gave you bad
advice, counseling you to come to par No no, no, it was
sound advice, or at least it seemed to be at first. Paris seemed
to be the tonic I was needing. At first, you say, well,
then, what well is? Oh wait, I haven't offered you anything
to drink. I must have a bottle of wine around here, somewhere,
Yes, yes, here we are sort I'm afraid, a very ordinary bourgeois.
I'm sorry, I could go out for Godfrey, don't excite yourself.
Think of whom you're speaking to. It's Carl, your friend. Think of
all the evenings we shared a bottle of the cheapest wine and found it sufficient
because of the pleasure of each other's company. Can't we open this bottle in
the same spirit? Of course, of course we can't forgive you. My
manners have grown. Course it comes from being too much alone. There must
be another glass somewhere around I'm sure I had one. Oh here we are,
oh God, freed to friendship, our friendship, yours and mine.
You know, I am beginning to feel almost like a man again. Tell
me what has brought you to this sorry state? The blood? I beg
your pardon, you said, the blood. You know how wildly enthusiastic I
was with the political theories of the revolution and the philosophy behind them. They
seemed to open a vista of progress for mankind, a wide and open road
down which we could travel toward the perfect state. You were always one to
look for perfection, and why not? Why not? Well, why were
we put on earth if not to search for the perfect state? Are we
supposed to wallow in the mediocre and pretend that it suffices, roll about in
filth and call it good? Is that our reason for being? Is that
what we were created for? In God's emire, friend, you must try
not to excite yourself. Excite myself is enough to write me mad. That
the visions were all forsaken and the visionaries time to killing. The dreams were
trampled, and the dreamers drowned themselves in blood. Car, there are times
when I think it has done just that. Listen to me, Car,
Let me tell you something I must tell someone, as only you. No
one else, of course, Gotfrida, You can tell me anything, Carl.
In the most ancient part of Paris, where the Hotel de Ville lies,
you know the place I have heard on the place de Greve, the
open space in front of the hotel de Ville. That is where they have
erected the guillotine. I have heard, Yes, this instrument of death stands
ever ready. The scaffold runs all day with blood all day. Each day
victims are dragged there and made to kneel. A heavy blade is released.
It slides swiftly down vertical guides and the head, the head of the victim
or heavenly father, it is too horrible, too terrible. Can't do yet,
you must take these crimes upon yourself. A revolution has never been accomplished
without shedding, Goddess, but this has become a mania for blood and insatiable
first. Even now, at this moment, while the city sleeps, that
horrible engine stands, grim and silent, waiting for fresh victims. It sickens
me. It congeals my heart, it freezes my blood. I understand,
I do, and that is why I have turned away to the study of
ancient writers, dead thinkers, anything to separate me from the awful present.
My poor Godfried, I am so sorry, so sorry you. I am
ashamed to accept your pity. Yet I thank you for it, which shames
me all the more that I should be grateful. But there must be other
things. There must be more to life. Come, let's finish this bottle
of wine before I have to leave. Leave, you have to leave,
and not quite yet. I can spend another quarter of an hour, a
quarter of an hour, no more than that time. I must take a
train back at midnight. I have thought and hope that I have been so
alone. Yes, ye, come, now, let's make the most of
our time together. Bring up now, and we'll talk of pleasant things such
as yes, such as wanted, well, such as women. For example,
surely there are women in Paris who have taken your fans somewhere. Yes,
here's many, many well there, And now you see things are not
all black and gloomy. Of course, I have not met any women.
I haven't neck. I've never had it. Do you know that I thought
that here in Paris you might well acquire it, learn the ways of the
world. I'm too shy. I can't find the courage. But I think
about them, Oh, do you know, Yes, yes I do.
I think of them a great deal. When I come back here to my
lonely room myself, I think back in my mind to the delectable faces I
have seen on the streets. You know what, Carl, you know what
in my reveries, in my dreams of them, they are even lovelier than
they looked on the streets. What do you think of that? Do you
mean to tell me that there isn't even one woman, one in particular,
just one? Oh? Yes, yes, there is one, one,
very particular one has better tell me about her? Tell you about How could
I tell you about her? I'll start by telling me what she looks like?
Yes, well, her skin is very pale, very very pale,
white, like a white rose. Her eyes dark dark and burning hot,
like sultry suns leather, and better, her hair a shade of red,
I think you think? Yes, yes, her hair is reddish, some
might call it somber, but against the pallor of her skin and her name?
Her name? What about her name? Aren't you going to tell me
the name of your lovely She has no name? Why should she have her
name? Guthrie? Are you trunk? I have never given her a name?
Why should I? She's my dream? You you only dream of this
woman. She's not real, she doesn't exist. She is real to me.
She exists in my dreams. She lives in my thoughts by day,
she haunts my dreams by night don't you understand I love her, whoa my
poor friend. I shall always love her to the end of my days.
So you see I am not quite as lonely as you thought, not at
all, not lonely at all, because she is with me at all times.
I yes, I see, I think, I see, dear friend.
It is getting on from midnight, and I have a train to catch.
We walk with me to the stay, of course, I said I
would, and I did. Though it was a stormy night. Claps of
thunder were rattling among the high houses of the narrow streets. Lightning flashed now
and again, and the rain that began to fall seemed to drop into my
heart as much as on the pobble starts. When I had watched the train
depart, carrying off my only friend, I thought to return to my room.
But something, a morbid recollection of our conversation, no doubt, drew
me or forced me toward the Hotel de Ville and the place de Greve,
And in a sudden flare of lightning, I saw it. The horrible engine
of death, the guillotine. A violent forever ran through me, and I
wanted to run, but something held me, rooted to the spot till the
lightning burst forth again, and there, crouch'd by the guillotine, I saw
a shadowy form, all dressed in black, A female form seated on one
of the lower steps of the scaffold, leaning forward, her face in her
lap, her long, dishevel'd hair hanging to the ground, her long reddish
You are listening to a tale of terror and romance told in the Gothic style.
So called Gothic stories were enormously pope in the nineteenth century, and they
have never wholly ceased to be in demand by the reading public, or,
for that matter, the viewing audience, or as now the listening one.
It is good to remember that the Gothic romance was assisted into our world by
a gentleman from New York mis to Washington curving. I'll be back shortly with
our concluding act. All right, this is Michael Landon. I know pictures
of your family are important, so when you get them developed, do what
I did. Make sure Kodak paper is behind them. Make sure you look
for a store with a Kodak paper sign, the one that says we use
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team together and report the news for a cluster on the sales, for dealing
constant pressure of being the best. And there's only one place you can find
this anchor man, this editor, this team ringed about the strong but confighting
company only on the CBS Evening News Monday through Friday on the CBS television network.
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all nine, that free catalog what Low Colorado eight one O nine ten for
the book Coun't Rink and a movie Tomorrow Night's Mystery Theater deals with a man
who literally fought windmills. Here the Adventures of Don Quixote at eleven, all
five on kfab. But now we return to Act three of the Guillotine.
It is true that Washington Irving was born in New York, but for reasons
of health, he traveled extensively abroad and actually had living orders for a time
in the Alhambra, that centuries old palace that still stand on a hill in
Granada, a relic of the time when the Moors ruled a large part of
Spain. In fact, she can go there today and see the very wounds
he occupied, and if you are very careful and no one is looking,
touched the keys of the spinnet on which he played. I stood in the
teeming rain and gazed at the woman in black who sat on the steps of
the scaffold. There was something awful in this solitary monument of woe. She
looked to be a woman of some distinction. Who could it be but some
poor mourner, whom the dreadful axe had made desolate, who now sat here,
heartbroken, on the strand of existence from which all that was dear to
her had been launched into it. I could not leave the cluster grab without
speaking to us, Madame. Your pardon, Madame, I would not intrude
upon your solitude. But neither can I pass by and leave you here alone
the storm the power of the night. Let me lead you away from this
gruesome place, and let me take you to your friends who will cherish and
take care of you. Madame. I I have no friend, oh,
madame, such a one as you. I have no friends. The guillotine
has taken them all. Is that what you mean? My heart weeps for
you. But if there are no friends to give you refuge, at least
let me take you home. I have no home but in the gray,
oh, Madame. I know I am a stranger to you. You have
no reason to trust either me or my intentions. But if you would permit
me to hope you my protection. I am a poor student, Madame.
I am not even a native of Paris. I live in the most humble
hotel in the Latin Quarter, such as it is I would be honored happy
if you would let me place my single room at your disposal on this most
wretched of knights. You is in very kind, very sincere. Thank you,
Thank you madame for understanding. Then you will come with me, and
you will permit me to enlist as your protector. Monsieurs, life fat lies
in your hand. The storm had abated, all Paris was quiet. That
great volcano of human passion slumbered for a while to gather fresh strength for the
next day's eruption. I conducted my charge through the ancient streets of the Latin
Quarter, by the dusky walls of a Sorbonne, to the dingy hotel where
I lived. The hour was late, and I had to ring for the
corsierge coming coming. Don't be afraid of her, she's crossed but really kind.
Thank you, Thank you, madame. I am so sorry to trouble
you. You you have someone with you, yes, yes, a friend
man. Come in you and your friend, Thank you, madame. If
you need anything refreshment of any kind, yes, thank you. My room
is on the first floor. You'll find it rather shabby. I'm afraid this
hotel once belonged to a member of the nobility, but only the remains of
its old glory are still evident, and you have to look very hard,
indeed, to see them. Here we are. Here is the door,
madame. I'll fetch your light. You can make yourself comfortable. There's a
bed over there if you care to lie down. You must be tired.
Ah, here we are, here's our light. You are very kind to
a poor stranger. Madame. What is it you are? You're so pale,
your hair, your eyes, your skin. It please you. Your
black dress, your black cap. It's so simple, I am you like
them? They jowls, no ornaments of any kind, only a broad black
band around your lovely neck with its diamond clasp. You are too perfect?
Who are too perfect? By far? Madame? May I tell you something
of what is in my heart? I have loved you for a very long
time, a very long time. I have seen you every night for months,
and many times during the day. Have you been following me? Young
man? Had been dreaming of you asleep at night in trance. During the
day. It has been your face, your form that filled my thoughts and
fevered my imagination. I adore you. How strange it all is strange,
But marvelous. Did you should have thought of me all this time, thought
of you, dreamed of you? Oh? Or was it that you,
young and ardent, have filled your head with thoughts of the other sects?
It would only be natural, and your thoughts simply reappeared in your dreams.
But though I am of such a shy disposition, I have never had the
courage to pursue my fancies into the world of reality. All this is known
to a friend of mine. He was here today a short visit to Paris.
We talked here in this very room. I spent a good part of
our time together telling him that while I thought of women as any man does,
still there was one in particular, one very particular one. Are you
seen. My friend asked me what she looked like, this one particular woman.
He asked me to describe her. Yes, and I said, her
skin is white as a white rose, Her eyes are dark like sultry suns,
and her hair a certain shade of deep red. Oh, my dear,
surely, such a miracle that you have come to life, that you
sit here in my little room, in all your beauty and desirability. I
told my friend this evening, I said, do not pity me, because
I love this woman of my dreams and shall always love her. And what
did he have to say to that, your friend? I think he understood.
At least he accepted what I said as truth, as my truth.
But and it was time for him to take his train. We said farewell.
I started to walk back here, and then and then we met by
the giute, and I dared to speak to you, and I listened and
believe, and I brought you back to my humble room, and here we
are together. I tell you, it is a miracle, the miracle of
my life. It is yourself. It is you come to life. It
is you sitting next to me, your hand. I am holding your eyes.
I gaze into It is your lips. I desire if I might only,
yes, if I might kiss those lips. Just one, only one,
Madame, my most beloved, my darling. Again again, my sweet
angel, can give me courage to ask you something I never thought to ask.
Yes, my love, do you feel as I feel? Why should
we separate? You and I our hearts are already united in the eye of
reason and honor. We are as one. Oh? Yeah, you have
no home, no family. Let me be home family, everything to you.
Rather, let us be everything to each other. Yeah, to take
my hand, I pledge myself to you forever forever you see, forever forever.
Then, my lover, I am yours. The next morning, in
order not to disturb my beautiful sleeping bride, I crept cautiously and quietly from
our bed, and as quietly dressed myself and went forth early in the day
to look for larger quarters, since it was clear to me that my situation
had so changed as to make the tiny student's room quite inappropriate. When I
returned from my search, I stopped to speak to the concierge, who quite
clearly was taking a certain enjoyment in my plandestine affair. Good morning this year
morning. Will you be wanting a smolder path to you and the lady?
A coffee? Perhaps? Yes, that would be very nice. Thank you.
The lady has not asked for me, no, no, monsieur.
No has she gone out. I've watched for her. No, she still
sleeps in your room, and I believe, thank you, I'll be up
in a moment with your coffee and COTSA thank you so very much. We'll
both appreciate that. My darling, my love, it is I I have
been walking the streets looking for a better place for us to live at,
two rooms at least by the river, if possible, do you hear me?
We'll come along, my sweetheart, wake up now. The conciergtions bringing
us our breakfast. We come along. You cannot be comfortable lying like that,
your head hanging over our poor little bed, your arm thrown over it
will let me move your arm at least. But how cold you are?
Oh, very cool? Or your hand is like eyes? Oh my god,
there's no pulse, no pulse at all, and you ye pale,
ghastly. Oh no, monsieur. I have brought breakfast for you and the
lady. The lady. The lady is dead, dead in my house.
A police. I'm fetching a police. The gendarme arrived in short order.
He found me kneeling by the side of the bed, gazing in horror and
dreadful fascination at the lifeless face of the woman I had loved for so long,
the woman who had finally given herself to me in a pledge of a
lifetime of love. As the officer of the police entered the room, I
looked up at him and saw him start back suddenly, a look of total
amazement on his face, Great massive lever, How does this woman come to
be here? Do you know her, monsieur, let me come closer.
Do you know who she is? I know who she is. I was
there in the plastograph when they chopped off her head their guillotine her yesterday.
I hardly know how to tell you what happened. Then the policeman leaned over
and unfastened the black collar with a diamond clasp that encircled the neck of my
beloved, and horror of horrors, her beautiful head rolled upon the floor.
And then I knew my most awful fear had been true. All along the
field, the fiends had gained possession of me, and I was lost,
forever, forever lost. There is a PostScript to this story, appended by
Washington Irving, and I shall read it to you. Is this really a
fact, said the inquisitive listener. A fact not to be doubted, was
the reply. I had it from the best authority. The student told it
to me himself. I saw him in a madhouse at Paris. I'll be
back shortly. It's June seventeen seventy eight, and we're at the desperate Battle
of Monmouth. A legend is being borne before my very eyes. A young
woman volunteer, Molly Pitcher, is helping fire one of the American cannons.
Can you talk to us, Molly? Are you kidding? The British army
cutting out hard work for a woman hot and heart Try cooking in a colonial
kitchen sometime, not a woman. We've all got to help our country for
these thousands of women are volunteers who have joined National Garden Reserve units. They
are a vital part of our military manpower and woman power had only a fraction
of the cost of equivalent active duty forces covered. Three hundred thousand employers have
signed a statement of support encouraging employees to participate in garden Reserve training. Shouldn't
you hey your employers out there, don't you know that when you help a
bounce, your help our country, you're helping yourself. You haven't signed a
statement of support yet, you should be ashamed. They Employer support Arlington,
Virginia two to two oh nine a public service on behalf of employer support of
the Garden Reserve and the Advertising Council. A horror store is international, starting
with the Castle of Otranto by the Englishman Horace Walpole. It was followed and
improved upon by Honorari Balzac in France and in America. It was carried on
by Washington Irving and brought to a peak by the genius of Edgar Allan Pole.
Oh Yes, the horror story is here to stay. Our cast included
Paul hecked Don Scardino, and Brana Rayburn. The entire production was under the
direction of Hyman Brown and now a preview of our next tale. Rosinante world
to me, to my poor ignorant eyes, I could have sworn they will
win this. You are afraid, say your craze. I'll meet them all
alone. You stay here, Salcho, what are you up to? My
Lord? Stand your ground, you cowardly names, you dastedly giant, dare
careful master required Sancho. I may be only a single life alone, you
miserable, overgrown hain't hearted monster. You can get hurt, But like David
facing half a dozen goliaths, I engage you all in unequal but mortal combat.
An quixote. The wind has fastened the sails. The arms of the
windmills are turning fast and fast. Giants prepared to do me battle like David.
It is your debt, oh mind, Radiomistery Theater was sponsored in part
by True Value Hardware stores and contact the twelve hour Cold Capsule Missus e G.
Marshall, inviting you to return to our Mystery Theater for another adventure in
the macabre. Until next time, pleasant dream. This is kf Aby in Omaha.