 From Hollywood, California, the Lux Radio Theatre presents Paul Muney in the life of Amy Ilzola with Josephine Hutchinson and as guest producer, Mr. Leslie Howard. Lux presents Hollywood. To the thousands of loyal listeners who wouldn't miss a Monday night with us, to the thousands of women who insist on Lux Flakes, we extend our grateful thanks. It is your loyalty to our product that makes these programs possible, and it is your purchases of Lux Flakes that have made Lux the world's largest selling packaged soap for fine fabrics. Women everywhere depend on gentle Lux for their own and the children's things because they know Lux lives up to its famous promise, it's safe for everything safe and water alone. Our play tonight, filmed by Warner Brothers and winner of the Academy Award, is the drama of one who challenged the world with his writings and fought fearlessly with the spoken word in the cause of justice, Amy Ilzola. Mr. Paul Muney, who created the role on the screen, will repeat his performance, and with him you'll hear Josephine Hutchinson. Louis Silvers conducts our musing, and our special guest between the acts is the man who directed the film version of our play, Mr. William Dieterley. Our regular producer, Cecil B. DeMille, will be back with us again next Monday night. Filling his place is the star and co-director of Pigmalion, who is in Hollywood for the filming of his current picture Gone With the Wind, and who has been here during the past week preparing tonight's production. Ladies and gentlemen, our guest producer, Mr. Leslie Howard. Thank you, Mr. Roick. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is an exceptional evening. We have an exceptional star. We have an exceptional play. Paul Muney in the life of Amy Ilzola. I doubt if the screen has ever known an actor who drives himself harder than tonight's star. In his current Warner Brothers picture, Juarez, went 64 weeks of preparation before Mr. Muney was ready to face the camera. And just as exhaustive was his research into the life of the man he plays tonight, Amy Ilzola. With Mr. Muney comes another real artist, that very fine actress, Ms. Josephine Hutchinson, in the part of Zola's wife, Alexandrine. And now, we journey to another place, another time. We cross the Atlantic, and we pause in France, a France of 75 years ago. And so begin the life of Amy Ilzola. Paris in 1862. Louis Napoleon is Emperor of France, and his reign is one of suppression. New thoughts, liberal ideas are vigorously opposed. The great city lies beaten under the lash of authority. It's deep winter. A biting wince creams across the roofs of the Latin quarter, rattling the frost-covered windows of squalid, garret rooms. Behind one of these windows is the young Amy Ilzola. A shock of unruly hair crowns his gaunt, hunger-pinched face, and his eyes burn feverishly as he stuffs rags into the windowpains. From the other side of the bare, draughty room, his friend, Cezanne the painter, speaks quietly. It's no use, Amy Ilzola. Places like a seal. It would take all the rags of Paris to stop half its whole. Paris, vast, emotionless. A gigantic mother brooding over her millions of children, good and bad. It's magnificent, Cezanne. You must paint it. Like someday I will write it. No, Zola. It's hopeless, useless, wasting our youth like this, butting our heads against the stone wall. Look at us. Not a sue between us. No wood for a fire, not even a crust of bread. If we're young and ripe, we're still stammering, groping for our way. But when we find it, Cezanne, I shall write what I see, slices of life, real ruthless. All stop chasing rainbows, Amy Ilzola. People don't want to see the stockpaste of truth. They much prefer perfumed lies like these, the books of hypocrites and liars. They ought to be burned like something unclean. Burned? That's splendid. Why didn't you think of that before? We'll have a fire. Hand them over. Wait, wait. We could sell them, Amy Ilzola. What? And expose others to their stinking hypocrisies? No, my friend. Burn them and let their lying pages warm the bones of men of truth. I'm real, the smoker. I can't breathe. Paul, close that window. Do you want me to catch my death cold? But we'll suffocate. That will be better than perishing from a miserable draft. Oh, you and your drafts. I shall die of one someday. You'll see. Open windows are dangerous. It's a concierge for the rent. You toss us into the street. Don't let him in. Tell him I'm in bed. Some horrible disease is catching. Anything. Who? Who's there? Amy Ilzola. Madame Zola. Come in, Madame Zola. Thank you. Good afternoon, Mama. What are you doing in bed so early? Amy Ilzola, you are real. Nonsense, Mama. We thought you were the man for the rent, that's all. Oh, Amy Ilzola, it tears my heart out to see you living like this. But now it is going to end. Alexandrine, come and make this rascal of mine listen. Alexandrine? Good afternoon, Amy Ilzola. Alexandrine, what brings you here? We have good news for you. Good news? Tell him we have a job for you, Amy Ilzola. A job? With Larry, the book publisher, we arranged everything this morning. You will be a clerk and now we can get married at, oh, Amy Ilzola. A job? Marvelous. I'll have time to finish my book. Maybe even get Larry to publish it. Cezanne, take my mousecoat and hock. Yes, yes, yes, yes. Get meat and bread. A cup of wine. We'll celebrate. That's right. Cezanne, we have a job. Cezanne, we have a job. We have a job. Alexandrine, you must not come here to the shop. Monsieur Larry has issued orders. I had to come. Oh, I hate to trouble you, Amy Ilzola. But the butcher, he refuses us any more credit. But you told him we'd settle at the end of the month. He wants his money now. And the landlord was very nasty about the rent. Zola, Monsieur Larry wants you in his office right away. Very well. I'll do what I can. Don't worry. This book was not published by me. I have nothing about it. Nothing whatsoever. Well, we shall see. Monsieur Larry. Come in, Zola. Zola, this gentleman here is an agent of the police. He has something to say to you. Yes, Monsieur. You have a book published called The Confessions of Claude. Is that right? Yes. It is my duty to tell you that the public prosecutor is highly displeased. Why? It's a bad book. Badly written, you mean? It is an offensive book. It will do great harm to public morals. I beg your pardon. Keep quiet, Zola. We've been watching your writing, young man. You're a troublemaker. These articles of yours. Attacking our leading men of letters, the arts, criticizing the civic authorities. Perhaps you know something better for me to criticize. I don't want any of your impudence. And I'm telling you, you've got to stop it. This is an official warning. And I hope I won't have to come here again. Well, Zola? I didn't mean to get you into trouble, Monsieur Larue. Why do you have to write such butt-breaking stuff? When there are so many pleasant things in life. And so many unpleasant things. That is not your business. Well, you're working for me. From now on, you'll attend strictly to your work and stop writing trash. No, Monsieur. What? Is that a bad exchange for the job? Very bad exchange. You're a foolish young man. If you prefer to go hungry, that's your business. You're discharged. I'm very grateful to you, Monsieur Larue. Grateful? Yes, for allowing me to devote all my time to my writing. Then go ahead with your scribbling. Maybe a lean stomach would teach you better. But a fat stomach like yours sticks out too far, Monsieur Larue. It prevents you from looking down and seeing what's going on around you. While you continue to grow fatter and richer, publishing your nauseating confectionary, I shall become a mole digging here, rooting there. Well, life is hard, raw and ugly. I'll stir up the whole rotten mess. You will not like the smell of my books, Monsieur Larue. Neither will the public prosecutor. But if the stench is strong enough, maybe something will be done about it. Good day, Monsieur. I'm sorry, but I can't print this in my paper, Monsieur. But they're true. All these things are true. The horrible conditions in the factories and the minds of the way the men live. I said I'm sorry. I have no use for them. Like you say, the army is honeycombed with graft. But they're provoking the Prussians into war. Yes, yes. It is the truth. But I cannot print it. But why? Why? Because, Monsieur, it is the truth. Well, I'll buy some of these things. Ten francs for the lot. Why I'm doing it, I don't know. Thank you, Monsieur Charpentier. You won't regret it. You'll see how they'll sell. You'll see. And this book too, perhaps you'll like that. A book? What kind of a book? A story of a girl, a poor girl from Matois who came to Paris and lived in the slums. Sounds like trash. I'm not interested. It would be, Monsieur. If you'd only read it, I'd call it Nanna. Nanna. Nanna. Find this book I've ever read. Give me a copy of Nanna, please. Nanna. It's really a sensation. Everyone's reading it. Nanna, please. Nanna. Nanna, by Emile Zola, please. Sorry, but we're sold out. We'll have more tomorrow. Who is the man who wrote that book? Emile Zola, madame. I never heard of him. You will, madame. Believe me, you will. You hear, my friend, in every store, on every street corner in Paris, they talk of nothing but your books. Yes, the years have been kind to us, Emile, and I'm lucky to be your publisher. Nonsense. But you're famous, Emile. Who else knows the people of France as you do? How they love to cry over a pretty heroine. No, no, sir. That is not why they buy my books. It's because they tell the truth. That is why. Truth. Listen, soldiers, they're marching this way. The crowd's hearing for what? You there, soldier. Where are you going? Haven't you heard? We're bound for Berlin. War has been declared. War. War with Germany. And a morsel of food. Even the horse flesh has been sold out. How will it end, Emile? How does it always end? In misery, in suffering, in the blood of the people. But those are the fortunes of war. Those are indeed the fortunes of war. The whole rotten structure had to collapse before we could learn the truth. But France shall know why. I shall name her Betrayers. She shall see who let her mend the slaughter, who's responsible for her downfall. The downfall by Emile Zola. I tell you, Monsieur Zola, as the Chief Centre of France, I will not tolerate this book. Sorry, Monsieur Zolaissin. Listen to what you have written here. I believe I can remember. Listen. The army was governed by dry, rot and slow paralysis. The general star for mediocre. Of an ignorance past belief. But if the army made mistakes, monsieur. The army does not make mistakes. Really? How interesting. Every book you've written has caused us trouble. You attacked the Second Empire. You attacked the Third Republic. And now this downfall attacking our army. Such a book makes the public lose confidence and respect. Lose confidence in inefficiency. Lose respect for cowardice and stupidity. That would be a pity, monsieur. Nevertheless, you'll write no more such books, monsieur Zola. Except perhaps one about the rascality of army-ridden politicians. The Chief Centre, perhaps. What? That's an idea. No, no. I mean, you're a reasonable man, monsieur Zola. We only wish to do what is best for our country. That is so, isn't it? You'll do what is best for yourself by leaving me strictly alone to write what I please as I please. Good day, monsieur. Oh, no, no, no, my dear. Come here. But I thought you had so much to do. So I have, so I have. Somehow it won't come. Well, perhaps tomorrow. Pack my dear. We're leaving soon. Emil, what about your new book? Chappointier is waiting for it. I know, I know. But you promised, dear. And if we're going to be traveling so much, I don't see... Now, now, now, don't worry so, Alexandre. And I'm going to work on the boat every day. Every day, you just wait and see. At last time I've been saying to myself, today Emil will send me his book. Now you're here, Emil, and still you have nothing for me. But you must give me time, Chappointier. Time? You've had three years. Has it been that long? Well, we're not as prior as we used to be, eh, Chappointier. More wine! Fill the glasses, gentlemen. I have a rare treat in store for you. Yes? Indeed, you're eighteen-hundred-nine. Oh, sir, what a pleasure. The conditions in the mines are worse than ever before. Another catastrophe last week, the second in a month. They need as a guild, an organization. More than that, gentlemen, they need a champion. Someone with influence to show them the way. Another Zolo, perhaps? Oh, well, that's a good idea. Another Zolo, perhaps? Oh, why not Zoli himself? Or is he more interested in the vintage of eighteen-hundred-nine? Ah, they'll work out that problem somehow. They have youth, they have courage. Ah, how about, where's that wine? Note that you have been deliberately avoiding me. Avoiding you? That's nonsense, Emil. When old friends do not see each other for almost ten years, that's past the stage of nonsense. However, it's good to be together again, just like old times. House doesn't look like our old garret. Well, I'm comfortable, Suzanne, very, very comfortable. Yes, perhaps too much so. Hmm? What is that? Paul, shall we go into the other room? I want to show you the pearls that Emil bought for me when we were in Italy. Ah, yes, come along, Suzanne. I'll bear. Yes, monsieur. Make certain that the windows are tightly shut. Silivated draughts, Emil? Yes, my chest. Ah, your chest is as strong as a barrel and always wild. Come, Paul. Yeah, I want to show you something. A priceless bit of wood carving. I'm sorry, Emil, but I must go. What? So soon? Yes, it's goodbye, Emil. Goodbye? I'm going south, back to the country. Come, come, Paul. We're old friends. Out with it, what's troubling you, huh? Do you really want me to tell you? Well, of course. And we've drifted apart, Emil. Or perhaps I should say you've outgrown me. Ah, nonsense. No, no, you know it isn't nonsense. This home, this carpet, servants, you're wealthy now. Well, famous. A member of the Legion of Honor. You come along away from the day when we started together in an attic and you shouted, burn the books of the hypocrites. Let their lying pages warm the bones of a man of truth. Sometimes I'm tempted to give in and paint only for money. But no, an artist should remain poor, Emil. Otherwise, his talent, like his stomach, grows fat and stuffy. Like mine, huh? I'm sorry, Emil, but I had to say it. You're my oldest and dearest friend. I couldn't go without telling you this. Goodbye, Emil. Paul, will you write? No. But I'll remember. Mathedere? Tired? No, no, no. Just thinking, Cezanne's gone. Back to Provence. Emil, you didn't quarrel. Quarrel? With Cezanne? No, but he's taken something of me with him. The last of my youth. Strange. Cezanne and I struggled together, starved together. Now our paths have divided. Well, I fought my battles and now I won't come. Rest from now on. I can only look back one. That's just idle talk. Come along. Play me a game of piquette. Life is tricky and I suppose we don't influence our fate while we play piquette, a starving mother and child jump into the river sand. A servant forgets to extinguish a stove and someone suffocates. Who knows whose fate may mingle with ours or win? You have just heard the first act of the life of Emil Zola, starring Paul Muney with Josephine Hutchinson. During our brief intermission, we present that lovable family, the Brownings. The family's finished dinner and the girls are just getting up from the table. Well, come on, Midge. Let's get the dishes out of the way, huh? Okay, Dot. I'll help clear off the table. Oh, wash your dishes in luxe today. It's kind of your hands. Hooray, hooray. Well, that's a cute little song, Midge. Where'd you hear it? Over the Dr. Susan program the other day. But that program's in the afternoon, Midgey. You haven't been cutting classes, have you? Of course not, silly. It was while we were washing dishes in our home economics class. We had the radio turned on. Very upper pro, I should say. I hope you were using luxe plates. Oh, but definitely. Teacher says it's thrifty on account of a little ghost so far, you know. Well, she's right. And it makes dishwashing loads easier. And the way it helps your hands stay nice looking. Any girl likes that. I'll say, you know, two of the girls said their mothers don't buy luxe. And they're going to pick at them. We want luxe. Harsh soaps are unfair to hands. Oh, mothers, thank you. Yes, it is. And I'm sure their mothers will be glad to know about luxe. It's such a help. And it's real thrifty, too. Those girls are right. Harsh soaps are unfair to hands. They contain harmful alkali that's apt to dry the natural oils in your skin and make your hands rough and red. Luxe flakes have no harmful alkali. Absolutely nothing to spoil the beauty of hands. So use luxe for your dishes, won't you? To help your hands stay soft and smooth. Remember, a little ghost so far. Luxe is thrifty. And now Leslie Howard is ready to raise the curtain on the second act of our play. Paul Muni in the life of Emil Zola with Josephine Hutchinson. And so, while Emil Zola grew paunchy and contented, the stage of France was being set for the greatest crusade of his career. In the office of the Army Intelligence Service, the Minister of War has called a meeting of his staff. Important military information has been disclosed to the German Embassy, and in the minds of the French General Staff, is one word, one word, one word, one word, one word, one word is one word. Treason! Treason, I say! This paper is a broader of a list of our secret army documents. It was found by one of our agents in an office at the German embassy. It's amazing. Listen, gentlemen, this except, I am sending you notes on the French 120 gun. The new plan uncovering troops, changes in artillery formations, new shooting manual for field artillery, very difficult to procure. The man who wrote this is our traitor. Haven't any of you any idea who he is? He must be on the general staff, sir. One of us? Ridiculous. Here's a roster of all our officer students, Colonel Sandhair. May I have it? Traitor is here, gentlemen, on this list. Ayaris, Debeauville, Daracy? Ridiculous. The Uranse, Tambighi, Gryphus, Mr. Hase, Mr. Hase. Well, have you found something? I was wondering about Mr. Hase. Ferdinand, Count Walter and Mr. Hase, he's of Hungarian descent. But his father was a general in the French army. But wait. What about that fellow just above him? Dreyfus. Dreyfus? Here you are. Alfred Dreyfus. Look here, gentlemen, captain in the 14th Regiment of Artillery. He was born at Mulhouse, Alsace, of religion, Jew. Attached section two of the general staff. Artillery officer. Attached to general staff. Speaks German. Interested in all branches. Well to do. He's the man. That settles it. Take action at once. Very good, sir. Major Dorth. Sir. Summon Bertillon, the handwriting expert from the Bank of France. Get samples of Dreyfus handwriting. Send the messages to Dreyfus to a report here in the morning. Yes, sir. Major Picard to see the chief of staff. Come in, Picard. Well? Captain Dreyfus is waiting in Major Dorth's room now, sir. Is he nervous? No, sir. Then he's more of a rascal than we think. One moment, sir, please. Is it possible, sir, that we're making a mistake? The French army, Major Picard, does not make mistakes. But we know so little about Dreyfus. Exactly. We have no proof. We'll attend to that. You mean we'll manufacture our own? That's enough, Major Picard. Yes. Major Dorth. You will see Captain Dreyfus at once. You know what to do. Very well, sir. Good morning, Captain Dreyfus. Yes, Major Dorth. I was instructed to report to the chief of staff. Who is busy just now? Please sit down. Thank you, sir. He might be some time yet. While we're waiting, you can help me out, if you will. Yes, sir. I have an important memorandum to write for the chief of staff, and unfortunately I managed to cut my hand rather badly this morning. Oh, well, let me write it for you, sir. Thanks. I'll dictate. You ready? Yes, sir. Sir, it is important that I regain immediate possession of the documents. Got that, Dreyfus? The documents? Which I gave you before going on maneuvers. What was the last word? Maneuvers. Consisting of a note on the hydraulic break of the 120 gun. Break of the 120 gun? Yes. That's all. What? Let me have that paper. I beg your pardon, Major. Sit where you are. You may come in, gentlemen. Yes, sir. Place this man under arrest. Arrest? On what charge? Treason. Treason? How can you be so stupid? I've spent my life in the army, sacrificed a prosperous commercial career for it. It's outrageous. I've been instructed to offer you the usual alternative. Here is a service revolver. We'll leave the room. You know what to do with it. Kill myself. And so provide you with a perfect case. I'm not so obliging, nor so stupid. Very well, then. Take him away. Dreyfus found guilty. Trader protests innocence. Morning bullet. Army Judas faces degradation. Dreyfus guilty. They're a team. I told you, sir. I'll trade it to friends. They ought to hang him. Down with Dreyfus. Down with Dreyfus. Hang the traitor. Hang Dreyfus. Down with him. Hang him. That's the traitor. Hang him. Hang him. Hang him. Hang him. I just sit here out of tow. And if my friends want to sit with me, they must bear my misery. Is there anything quite so uncomfortable as a busted footbath? Or quite as silly as a cold in the head? It started one end and then retreated from another. Oh, well, you were saying, Anatole. I was speaking of Dreyfus, didn't you? Dreyfus, Dreyfus, Dreyfus. Will they ever stop speaking of it? What a fuss over nothing. How do you feel, are you? Didn't know you had a guess. Oh, come in, dear. You know, are at all, France? Of course, of course. Good morning, Madam Zola. Are told has been suffering for Dreyfus again. You might have suffered too, Emil, if you'd seen him yesterday as I did. Publicly stripped of his rank. Sentenced for life to a drifting cell in Devil's Island. Saying to the end, I'm innocent. Long live France. Over and over, he said it. While they struck him, spat on him, reviled him. All else he needed was a crown of thorn. Oh, 30 pieces of silver. After all, the man is a traitor. Perhaps, Emil, but still he's human, not a dog. And that crowd is their faces, like rabid beasts. Well, humans and animal skins are very much the same thickness. They can't expect too much. Oh, my head, my head. How it rewards me this ungrateful monstrosity that I've combed in fend for 50 years. Some more hot water in you. You're killing me. Stop your nonsense, Emil. It isn't hurting you at all. Big baby. Oh, that Alexanderine. A fine woman, but no heart, no feelings. Wives are all alike. In other words, Major Picard, you mean to tell me you've ferried it out another criminal? Not another criminal, sir. The criminal. I've come to you first, sir, as chief of staff. Major Picard, the Dreyfus case is closed. But I've never been fully convinced of Dreyfus' guilt, sir. I've tried for three years to find out the truth. Well? I examined the Dreyfus evidence and discovered that he was convicted not on the border owe, but on a secret document secretly introduced which Dreyfus and his counselor were not allowed to see and were not even told about. This made me doubly sure that someone had sacrificed Dreyfus to cover himself. So I determined to ferret out the real traitor and I've got him. Who is it? Major Count Bolson, Esther Hossie. Look, one of my agents got hold of a special delivery message from the German military at the Shea addressed to Esther Hossie. I compared a letter of Esther Hossie's with a writing on the border row and, well, look for yourself. Both writings are Esther Hossie's. I tell you, sir. And I tell you, sir, that you've exceeded your duty. Exceeded my. Your duty toward the army. But, General, this is my duty. There must not be another treason trial in the army. Understand? It must not be. But what about Dreyfus rotting on Devil's Island? You can't close the tomb over a living man, can't we? If you say nothing, no one will ever know. And you will say nothing. Understand? That's an official order. You may go. Yes, sir. Very good, sir. Pardon, Monsieur. It's you, Zola. I'm sorry, Monsieur. But there's a. How many times must I tell you? I must not be disturbed after dinner. I was just. Dosing. But there's a lady to see you, Monsieur. A lady? Madame Lucille Dreyfus. Dreyfus? Tell her I'm not at home. She's just outside the door, sir. What? You blackhead. Why didn't you come and tell me? But, Monsieur, I thought you. Tell her to come in. Yes, Monsieur. Madame Dreyfus. Come in, Madame Dreyfus. Monsieur Zola, please forgive me for intruding like this. But I had to see you. Talk to you about my husband. Madame, what can I do for your husband? He is innocent, Monsieur Zola. I have absolute proof. But no one will listen. No one. Oh, please, please, Monsieur. You're the only man in all of France who can make them listen. All your life, you've stood for truth and justice. I'm hardly the one to help you. I'm just an ordinary citizen. I have my work, my books to write. What is this new proof, you say you have? A certain Colonel Picard has done... Ah, that. It was in all the papers. Picard came back from Africa and accused Estar Hazy of riding the boarderau. But Estar Hazy was acquitted, Madame. Yes. Acquitted by the same army group that convicted my husband. Well, they'll stop it nothing to protect themselves. They're even ready to sacrifice one of their own class. Monsieur, Colonel Picard was arrested and imprisoned in Mount Valaria early this evening. They've arrested Picard? Yes, I have all the facts, Monsieur Zola. Look, look, Monsieur, here. These are copies of letters written to Colonel Picard by the Assistant Chief of Staff, proving beyond doubt that the General Staff knows that my husband is innocent and Estar Hazy is guilty. They knew? And ordered Picard to suppress the truth? Well, that's monstrous. Oh, Monsieur Zola, you will help me, won't you? How can anyone help you? All France believes your husband guilty, hates him as a traitor. Don't you see, they would hurl down and destroy any man who would dare champion it. But surely there must be some way to right this terrible wrong. There's nothing, nothing that can be done. Nothing. Unless some fool would publicly accuse the General Staff and get himself dragged into court on the charge of criminal liability... Yes, yes, Monsieur. Madame, you, you, you wouldn't honestly expect me? Why, I, I have my family to consider. I've, I've lived my life. I've, I've, I've had enough of fighting in turmoil. I'm, I'm happy and contented. I, why should I? I'm sorry, Monsieur Zola. It was only my, my despair that brought me. You see, I was thinking of my family too, of my children. Who asked me every day where he is, when he's coming back. My husband condemned to suffer a living death. Madame Dreyfus, you, you, you've left your paper. I'll bear, I'll bear, Monsieur. I'll bear. Follow Madame Dreyfus. Tell him she's, she's left a portfolio of these papers, these letters, and the, the, the... Well, Monsieur. And rose fat and stuffy. Monsieur Zola. A man of truth, hmm? Well, well, well, what, what are you standing there for? But the papers, Monsieur. Oh, no, no, no, you just leave them, leave them. Get up, get up. I've, I've, I've worked to do. One moment, one moment, one moment, dear. There. Working so late, dear. I haven't seen you work like this for years. Cézanne was right, Alexandrine. I was going fat and stuffy, but that's over now. But what is it? Alexandrine, I've just written a letter to the President of France. Listen, Mr. President of the Republic, a court-martial has recently, by order, dared to acquit one, Esther Hazy, a supreme slap at all truth, all justice. The Minister of War, the Chief of the General Staff and the Assistant Chief never doubted that the famous Bordero was written by Esther Hazy. For over a year, they have known that Dreyfus is innocent. Yet, they have kept this knowledge to themselves. And those men sleep, and they have wives and children they love. One talks of the honor of the army. The army is the people of France themselves. And the Dreyfus affair is a matter pertaining to that army. I affirm with intense conviction that truth is on the march and nothing will stop her. I accuse the Minister of War of having concealed the cicep proofs of the innocence of Dreyfus. I accuse the Chief of Staff of being an accomplice to the same crime. I accuse the handwriting experts of having made lying and fraudulent reports. And finally, I accuse the War Office of having violently led a campaign to misdirect public opinion and cover up its own sin. In making these accusations, I'm aware that I render myself open to prosecution for libel. But that does not matter. Let there be a trial in the full light of day. I am waiting. I accuse by Emil Zola. I accuse. What tripe is that to publish? Who is he to accuse anyone of anything? I'll find state the countries in when a fellow like that dares to tell us our army's rotten. I never heard of a rich writer. How'd he get his money then from Germany? Where else? And let me tell you another thing. Look, there he is now. Zola, across the street. Hey, there's Zola. Come on, let's get him. Kill the traitor! Climb in the rail! Get him! Come on! Let's get him! Let's get him! Emil, what's happened? The crowd. They're after me. Is it because of? Yes. I let her to the present. You must stay indoors. You mustn't leave. Oh, they're throwing things at the house. Yes. Listen, listen to them. They hate me, Alexandrine. They've burnt me in equity. They've thrown stones at me. At me, Alexandrine, the people of France, at me, the one who's fought for them all his life. But it will do them no good, Alexandrine. The truth is on the march. And nothing will stop her. Station identification. This is the plumber broadcasting system. The curtain falls on act two of the life of Emil Zola, starring Paul Muni with Josephine Hutchinson. Before going on with act three, we present our guest of the evening. But first, here are eight little words I wish you'd remember. A little goes so far. Lux is thrifty. Remember that, won't you? Just a few flakes make such a lot of suds. Lux is the thrifty care for stockings, underthings, blouses, sweaters, and dresses. For everything, safe and water alone. And for extra economy, be sure to buy the generous large-sized box of Lux Flakes. Here's Leslie Howard now, with our guest of honor. Physically, he's a big man, is William Dieterly. And cinematically, you can measure his stature by those fine pictures, the life of Emil Zola, the story of Louis Pasteur, and his latest handiwork, Juarez. All three films have three things in common. Each is a product of Warner Brothers, each starred Paul Muni, and each was directed by the ex-actor, William Dieterly. One doesn't have to think very hard, Mr. Dieterly, to recognize that you have decided to taste for historical biographies. Well, Mr. Howard, if nothing else, they proved one intensely satisfying point, that the intelligence of picture audiences is considerably higher than many producers seem ready to admit. You proved the same point in Pigmalion, when among other things, you were brave and have to keep the title of the play intact and not change Pigmalion to something like the passionate professor or London Love. Perhaps. But quite a few people I understand fully expected Pigmalion to be an animal picture. You know really, I've even heard it called, I've even heard it called Pigmalion. Incidentally, your co-direction of Pigmalion was great. I know of no one who could have done better as a director and actor. Thank you very much. Now here's something that should be right down deetily lain. Ever since history came to the screen, critics have accused Hollywood of twisting history around for its own purposes. Now tell me, A, is that true, and B, if so, what about it? It's partly true, of course, and here at least is my answer. It's a director's job to sell to an audience a definite idea, an idea whose course should be as direct and steady as an error toward a target. When factual accuracy is unessential to the general honesty of the theme, I think he makes a mistake by tipping his hat too frequently to the history book. The events of his drama must be told in an understandable, logical manner. From that, I think, justifies the minor rearrangements we have to make from time to time. Yes, I imagine that could easily work both ways. At the time, it's a great temptation to forget the picture in favor of history. Especially when you are dealing with as great and fantastical characters Mr. Muni portrays tonight, Emil Zola. His books brought him a huge fortune. But as a youth, he was so poor he had to stay in bed because he hadn't the money for fuel. He once flunked literature in school and became the most famous author of his time. He created 1,200 characters, but is best known perhaps for his electrifying letter I accused. If this play you are doing so admirably tonight has some message to convey. It is that there are millions of people in the world today like Dreyfus, and there is not always a Zola. Yet there's no reason to despair for at any time, through any chance, a Zola might come along. Let's hope so. Thank you, William Dieterly, for making pictures that are more than entertainment. Now we come to act three of the life of Emil Zola, starring Paul Muni with Josephine Hutchinson. DEPARTMENT Defiantly, Emil Zola pursued his course, an open attack on the high command of the French army, an attack which was to lead directly to a court of justice and a trial for criminal libel. But Zola's primary aim was thwarted. Stubbornly, the court refused to allow any mention of the Dreyfus case. The Dreyfus case is closed. Witnesses favorable to Zola were silenced. The witness will step down. His opponents favored. Continue, General. The crowd encouraged to jeer at the man of truth. Until the whole trial assumed a nightmare aspect reeling madly toward one objective, convict Emil Zola. Now Zola himself is on the stand. Calmly, he faces the jury. Gentlemen, my profession is writing, not talking. But from my struggling youth until today, my principal aim has been to strive for truth. That is why I entered this fight. It has been said that the state summoned me to this court. That is not true. I'm here because I wished it. I alone have chosen you as my judge. I alone decided that this abominable affair should see the light. So that France might at last know all and voice a repent. Gentlemen, I know you. You are the heart, the intellect of my beloved Paris, where I was born and which I've studied for 40 years. I see you with your families under the evening lamp. I accompany you into your factories, your shops. You're all workers and righteous men. You will not say like many what does it matter if an innocent man is undergoing torture on Devil's Island. Is the suffering of one obscure person worth the disturbance of a great country? Gentlemen, I know that tremendous pressure has been put upon you. Save the army. Convict Zola and save France. I say to you, pick up that challenge. Save the army and save France. But do it by letting truth conquer. Not only is an innocent man crying out for vindication, but more, much more. A great nation is in desperate danger of forfeiting her honor. Do not take upon yourselves a fault, the burden of which you will forever bear in history. At this solemn moment, before you gentlemen of the jury, before France, before the whole world, I swear that trifles is innocent. By my 40 years of work, by all that I have written, by all that I have won, by all that I have done to spread the spirit of France, I swear that trifles is innocent. May all that melt away. May my name perish. If trifles be not innocent, he is innocent. The jury will retire to form its verdict. And Amy Zola, having been found guilty of criminal libel, is hereby sentenced to one year's imprisonment and 3,000 francs fine. Well, you must leave France immediately. Leave France? Clements so, my friend, are you mad? You are still free, Amy. Go into hiding. England. Any place where they can't get at you. Run away like a common criminal? I would be denounced by my friends as well as my enemies. It's true. In prison you would be a martyr, a symbol for the whole world to overwhelm with its sympathy. But help us to do anything. In London you're all powerful. You can still fight for diapers. Write smashing articles, pamphlets. Keep pricking at the conscience of the world. Emil, there are times when it's more courageous to be cowardly. Alexandre, pack me a few warm things. Must be cold in London. You see, he's run away. Turn tail like a coward from London. There's more to it than that. Have you seen the posters all over Paris? Look, look here. The truth is still on the march. Read all our startling articles. From England. So that's why you went. Oh, it's you, eh? Good morning. Is your cold better, sir? Worse, worse, much worse. What's become of your old scab of a father? Is he ever going to get back from the village with my newspapers? Emil. He's here now, Mr. Zola. Emil, look, look. What is my paper, the papers? It's happened, Emil. It's happened. Listen to this. Colonel Henry's suicide after Dreyfus' confession. Confession? Henry, he was the man who framed the evidence against Dreyfus. Let me see, let me see, let me see. And this one here. Fent chief of staff resigns. Zola's fight for truth, vindicated at last. Estaharzy in flight. He's running away. And Dreyfus, Dreyfus, what's happened to Dreyfus? Look, Dreyfus' case revision inevitable. Emil, do you hear? You can go home now. Dreyfus will be freed. Home. Harris, you see, Bridgetts? The truth is still on the march. And nothing will stop her. This next will be my greatest book, Alexander. My very greatest, I'm going to call it, Justice. Please, dear. It's past midnight. You've done nothing but drive yourself ever since you came home. You must come to bed. Yes, yes, present, present, you maddie, present. Oh, yes, there's so much to do and so little time to do it. I see it all so clearly now, the future of France and the world, the cause and the effect, the roots and the tree. That's good. The roots and the tree? I must write that down. The cause and the. I can't understand this frantic hurry. There's always tomorrow. Always? I wonder. I wonder if, in the middle of my greatest work, there will always be up tomorrow. Please, you're tired. You must get some rest. You've got to be up early for the Dreyfus ceremony. Yes, Dreyfus. Tomorrow he will be restored to the army. You know, it's a queer thing. This whole Dreyfus business before it, I thought my work was done. And suddenly came this Dreyfus explosion and I'm alive again. My head bursting with ideas. This new book, it's bigger than anything I've ever dared before. The world about to hurl itself to destruction. The will of nations for peace. Awful brave, stopping it on the brink. A meal? You don't believe it? Wait, listen. To save Dreyfus, we had to challenge the might of those who dominate the world. It's not the swaggering militarists there, but puppets that dance as the strings are pulled. It's those others. Those who would ruthlessly plunge us into the bloody abyss of war to protect their power and their gold. Think of it, Alexandre. Thousands of children sleeping peacefully tonight under the roofs of Paris, London, Berlin, all the world. Doomed to die horribly on some titanic battlefield. Unless it can be prevented. And it can be prevented! Now, there's something else I want to do right here. Let's see. Good night, Aimee. Yes, good night, my good night, my dear. What are you doing? No, no, no, close the window, please. But Aimee. Please close it. I'll catch my death of cold and stir up the fire on the stove. Aimee, it's dangerous to leave the window closed with a fire burning. No, no, no, no, nonsense, nonsense. Just stir up the fire. Now, where was I? Mm-hmm. Can be prevented. It must. The world. The world must be conquered. Not by the force of arms, but by ideas. Ideas that liberate. Then we can build anew. Built for the humble and the wretched. I sincerely hope I shall live to see the rising of anew. Sola's dead. Died at his desk. Carbon monoxide poisoning. A great man. A great man. France will remember, Aimee Zola. The world will remember, Aimee Zola. Hush, darling. A great man has died, my dear. He's going to his rest in the pantheon. With all the great men of our country. And at old France, he's delivering the ointment. Save in truth. So let us not mourn him. Let us rather salute that bright spirit of his which will live forever. And like a torch enlighten a younger generation inspired to follow him. Take to your hearts the words of Zola. Enjoying today's freedom, do not forget those who fought the battles for you and bought your liberty with their genius and their blood. Do not forget them. Nor applaud the lies of fanatical intolerance. Be human for no man in all the breadth of our land more fervently love humanity than Zola. Let us not pity him because he suffered and endured. Let us envy him. Let us envy him because of his great heart which won him the proudest of destiny. He was a moment of the conscience of man. In a moment, our stars return for their curtain calls. But first, I'd like to make a little suggestion. Lots of people right now are thinking about Mother's Day gifts. Stockings are always a popular present but have you ever thought of sending along a box of luxe flakes when you give stockings? It's a little touch that adds a lot to your gift. You see, with luxe there's no harmful alkali, no cake soap rubbing to weaken elasticity. Luxe saves stocking elasticity and cuts down on runs and helps stockings wear longer and fit better. I guess your mother would like that, wouldn't she? So remember, stockings for Mother's Day and luxe flakes for stockings, the perfect combination. And be sure to buy the generous large size box of luxe flakes. Our guest producer, Leslie Howard. Our stars step out of their characters now. Here, ladies and gentlemen, are Paul Muney and Josephine Hutchinson. Well, Mr. Howard, acting has brought me many, many pleasant hours, but I'm especially grateful to the Luxe Radio Theatre for this chance to work with you and Mr. Muney. It's been something I won't easily forget. But there is something that I have forgotten and I think most of the world has forgotten too about Alfred Dreyfus. Is he living? What finally happened to him, Mr. Muney? Well, when Zola was buried at the Pantheon six years after his death, there was an attempt to assassinate Dreyfus. He was wounded while attending the services, but survived. During the World War, France made Dreyfus a lieutenant general in the Army and gave him the cross of the Legion of Honor. He died quietly just a few years ago. Mr. Muney, now that you've finished warriors, I think everyone is just as interested as I am in learning what you're going to do next. Is there something about your plans? Well, I wish there were a little more definite right now. I don't know just what my next picture will be. There is a fair chance, however, that it will be based on the life of a man who is very exalted in music, Beethoven. I sincerely hope that if we do it, the picture will in some measure be worthy of that great man. And now, my sincere thanks to you, Mr. Howard, to my two sponsors, Mrs. Hutchinson, Mr. Dieterle, and our cast. Good night. Good night, everyone. Congratulations to you both. Now a word for Mr. Rui. Paul Muney appeared through courtesy of Warner Brothers and Leslie Howard through David O. Selsnik. He'll soon start work as co-producer and star of Intermezzo. Louis Silver's is from 20th Century Fox Studios and directed music there for the new film, Rose of Washington Square. Be sure to listen to the new Lux Daytime Radio program, The Life and Love of Dr. Susan, every afternoon, Monday through Friday. Look in your newspapers for the time and station. The Life and Love of Dr. Susan comes to you in addition to the Lux Radio Theater. Here's Leslie Howard. With four billion francs that belong to the old Tsarist regime, but not a zoo of their own, they come to Paris in comparative safety two young white Russians, formerly a prince and a grand duchess. Soon discovering that appetites, as well as kings, must be served, they are forced to get jobs as household servants, embarking on a series of dramatic and comic episodes which become that highly entertaining plate, Tovarich. Tovarich did exceedingly well both on the stage and screen, and it comes to this stage starring two of the most deft and delightful artists in Hollywood, William Powell and Miriam Hopkins, and with them Melville Cooper and C. Henry Gordon. And our sponsors, the makers of Lux Flakes, join me in wishing you all, inviting you to listen to us again next Monday night when the Lux Radio Theater presents William Powell, Miriam Hopkins, Melville Cooper and C. Henry Gordon in Tovarich, with the grand duchess, Mary of Russia as the evening special guest, your producer, your regular producer, Mr. Cecil B. DeMille, will be back once again each Monday night thereafter. Thank you for listening until we meet again. This is Leslie Howard saying good night and good luck. Robert Warwick played the part of Anatole France. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.