 Hollywood, California, Monday, May 10th. The Lux Radio Theatre presents Joan Crawford and Franchotone in Mary of Scotland with Judith Anderson. Presents Hollywood, starring Joan Crawford, Franchotone and Judith Anderson. And as guests of honor, the head of one of the oldest houses in English nobility, the Earl of Warring. Our producer, Cecil B. DeMille, our conductor, Louis Silvers. These performances come to you through the courtesy of the makers of Lux toilet soap. And may we thank you for your enthusiasm for this fine soap, which of course makes the Lux Radio Theatre possible. Now I'm sure you have all heard men say something like this. Pretty? No, not exactly, but let me tell you something. Boy, she's got a way with her. There's something about her that sort of gets you. When a man talks that way about a girl, you can be sure she's learned the secret of being really attractive to men. That skillful and beautiful little screen star, Betty Davis, says this. You girls who want to be popular, here's something to remember. A man was never born who could resist the charm of perfect dinkiness. The least fault against it just ruins illusions. Spoils romance. The easiest, most delightful way I know to protect dinkiness is to bathe with Lux toilet soap. The active lather leaves skin really sweet, fragrant with the delicate perfume you'll love. Try it. I turn our microphone over to Hollywood's celebrated producer. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Cecil D. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. The climax of tonight's play was created exactly 350 years ago. When in 1587 emissaries from the English crown entered the great hall of the castle of Fatheringay and read to a woman named Mary the memorable orders of Queen Elizabeth. Turn the most eloquent historical romance drama of our time. The story you will hear is the work of Maxwell Anderson. It brings us through the courtesy of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Joan Crawford in the title role, and Franchotone as Bathwell, while Judith Anderson will portray Queen Elizabeth. Joan is one of the most earnest actresses in Hollywood. The next picture in which she will star with Spencer Tracy is named Three Rooms in Heaven. From Cornell University, Franchotone went immediately to the stage. We in Hollywood know him not only as a fine actor, but as one of our most civilized, charming, and best-liked neighbors. He comes to you shortly on the screen in MGMs. They gave him a gun. In Judith Anderson, Broadway lends us one of its greatest dramatic actresses, last seen in Hamlet, The Old Maid, and Come of Age. Now, back through history, back to the Kingdom of the North, to Scotland, land of lakes and heather, of peabrocks and blue bunnets and bagpipes, of tartan and tamo shanta, back to a day when one throne stood in Edinburgh and another in London, back to romance, as the Lux Radio Theatre presents Joan Crawford and Franchotone with Judith Anderson in Mary of Scotland. Scotland in the year 1561, from France across the angry waters of the North Sea, Mary Stewart comes unheralded to take her rightful place upon the throne as Queen of Scots. It's a stormy midwinter night and the pier at Leith, Scotland, two soldiers huddled in a corner seeking shelter from the wind and freezing rain. The Earl of Bathwell walks quickly along the pier and stepping from the shadows addresses them sharply. Leg it over the inn, one of your lads, and fetch a chair. We're on guard here, my lord. Cursure guard duty. The Queen of Scotland stepping out of a boat in velvet shoes. There's one at the Leith Inn, as you well know. I wouldn't know the silver for that in any case. What the devil do you mean by haggling over a dirty chair? Seize it. Seize it in the Queen's name. I'll fetch it. And you go with him. Oh, well, my lord. The Queen of Scotland with a velvet shoe. We want none of her here. A very broad evening to you, Master Knox. And to you, Lord Buckle. It seems some here have heard of her coming, though not perhaps those she'd have chosen. You're not here by chance to greet Mary Stuart. If I had ought to say to her, it will be for her own ear. No doubt. And I have a little observe to make to you about that too, sir. I am no such fool as to try to muzzle a minister. Nevertheless, whatever it was you were going to say, you won't say it. That's my observe to you. I shall say what I have come to say. Clear the steps for the Queen. She's coming off the boat. Your Queen would be known if the word was stripped of subjects. The very trees and frozen mountains would bow down to you, Your Majesty. I can well imagine. Why do you mean I could wish the clouds would stoop less to their Queen in my native land? Oh, one forgets how rank dismal of the Scotland can be. Dismal? Traitor. Have you never plucked a Gowan in spring? A very green Gowan? Oh, is there spring here in this here in Ischland? They are sweeter than in France, as I recall. And all fruits are sweeter here, of those that grow. And the summer's sweeter. Oh, they're short enough in faith. And when they come, they will bring excellent devices of masks and ornaments to deceive the eye, and soft words and perfumes to combat the senses of mankind. Who is this man? Tickmasters and alike will come in authority with Mary's short, and their counsel will be whining and carousing the flowers and fruits of evil. Surely this is some jest, sir. Surely this is not said and welcome to me. And what other welcome shall we give the woman of Davalon? The leprous and cankerous avengell of the devil. Stand back. Your Majesty, they're preparing a room at the inn. The chair will be here at once. If you would deign to take my cloak for your shoulder. Thank you. I wish to speak to this gentleman. This is Master John Knox. Of whom yet Grace may have heard. Nay, then I have heard of him, and I wish to speak to him. Master Knox, it is true that I am Mary's short and your queen, and I have come back from France after many years away to take up my rule in this country. It is true, too, that I am sad to leave the south in the sun, and I come here knowing that I shall meet with difficulties that would daunt many older and wiser than I am, for I am young and inexperienced and perhaps none too adept in statecraft. Yet this is my native place, Master Knox, and I loved it as a child and still love it. And whatever I may lack in experience, whatever I may have too much of youth, I shall try to make up for if my people will help me in tolerance and mercy, and a quick eye for wrongs, and a quick hand to right them. Hey, they told me you spoke, honey. Your Majesty, if the old goat has said anything that needs retracting... He shall retract nothing in fear. I will have all men my friends in Scotland. Can we not be friends, Master Knox? Your Majesty, I have said what I came to say. But you no longer mean it. See, I give you my hand, Master Knox. It is a queen's hand and fair, and I look at you out of honest eyes and I mean well and fairly. You cannot refuse me. Do you still hesitate? It is clean. Your Majesty. And will you come to see me at Holy Root House and give me counsel? For heaven knows I shall need it, and I shall listen, that I promise. I will come. I will send for you and soon. Good night. Your Majesty. Good night, Master Knox. Now, I wonder, will he hate me more or less? More, probably. However, it's just as well to have him where he can watch him. You're an outspoken man yourself, Captain. I am. You will forgive me, but so far I have not heard your name. The Captain is James Hepburn, Madame. The Earl of Bokbe. Ah, you fought ably for my mother. I have been of some slight service here and there. You have indeed. Tell me, my lord of Bothell, have I done well so far? Shall I not make this scuffle in mind? Madame, it is a cold, dour, sour, villainous country. And the folk on it are a cold, dour, sour, lot of clothes-shaving villains. And I can only hope no harm will come here to that bunny face of yours and no misery to the spirit you bring. Now, here's a new kind of courtesy. You'll hear far and wide, I know courtier, Madame. But I have eyes. And I can see that the new sovereign is a comely lass and a keen one. And I was for her from the first I saw her face. But from my heart, I could wish you a better country to rule over. Enough. Salimly and truly sir, it may be that they are not a happy race. But they have beliefs. And what they believe, they believe from the heart. Or even this Master Knox, isn't he? He believes whatever is to his own advantage. He's split the country wide open over your coming and leaves the pack against you. We'll have bloodshed over it yet. Bloodshed? And plenty. No. If I thought that I should turn now and bid the Mariners hoist sale and put back for France, I shall win. But I shall win in a woman's way, not by the sword. Let us hope so. Hope so? But I shall. I am no courtier, Madame. I say let us hope so. So Mary Stuart began her reign in Scotland. Meanwhile in the court in London, the jealous Queen Elizabeth of England begins to plot the downfall of the young sovereign. You said Lord Burley, you had made some memoranda in regard to Mary Stuart. They are not in order, but the main points are covered. First, Mary Stuart has crossed from France to Scotland against your advice and without your safe conduct. Yes. Second, she has been crowned Queen of Scotland. This also against your wish and in defiance of your policies. Yes. Third, she is next heir after your Majesty to the throne of England and is held by some to be the rightful Queen of England at the present time. Out with it then. What must be done? She must be defeated. Truly. But not so quick. Not so quick with wars and troops and expenses. Have you no better counsel? In all my reading I have found no case of a sovereign deposed without violence. My Lord. My Lord, it is hard to thrust a Queen from her throne. But suppose a Queen were led to destroy herself, led carefully from one step to another in a long descent until at last she stood condemned among her own subjects, barren of royalty, stripped of pause and the people of Scotland were to deal with her for us. Can this be done? She is a woman, remember and open to attack as a woman. We shall set tongues wagging about her and since it may be true that she is of a keen and noble mind let us take care of that too. Let us marry her to a weakling in a pool. A woman's mind and spirit are no better than those of the man she wed. She will hardly marry to our convenience, Madam. Oh, not if she were aware of it. You have thought of someone? She is seen much with the Earl of Barthwell. I have thought of Donley. But after herself, Lord Donley is in fact heir to the English throne. The better, the better. He is handsome and a good bearing and a fool. A posting drunken boy. If I give up that I am determined against it, she will marry him and he will drag her down, turn her people against her, make her a fool in counsel, spoil her beauty. I tell you a queen who marries is no queen. A woman who marries is a puppet and she will marry him. But this will take time. It will take many years. I can wait. And we shall need many devices. You shall not find me lacking in devices. In the word to drop here, the rumours started there. It will grow up about her in whispers that she is tainted in blood. She will be known as double-tongued, a demon with an angel's face, a prophetess of evil. Her own people will rise and take her scepter from her. How about your majesty? However, I am not to appear in this. Always and above all, I am to seem her friend. You would say that I am in myself more nearly what will be said of her. No, no, perhaps. But that is not what is said of me. Whatever I may be, it shall be said only that I am the queen of England and that I rule well. With expert prompting from Elizabeth in England, the Court of Scotland has become involved in a morass of lies, deceits and petty intrigue. Lord Donley, vapid of countenance, vain and bearing, has already begun to press his favour with Mary, Queen of Scots. Mistress Beaton, is it true that our sovereign is inaccessible this day? Quite true, I fear, my Lord Donley. Oh, heaven help the man who tries to woo a queen. Lord Donley is to remain within call. It is her majesty's pleasure. Oh, well, that's something. Oh, my Lord Bathwell. I see my name is remembered and that's a triumph. Hell, the sweet Queen Lord Bathwell would see her alone. Sir, she's closeted with her secretary. We're not free to speak with her. Closeted? So, I like not that word closeted. Who is there here can speak with her and tell her. My Lord, she has faced this day off in two hours. So many to each and I fear your name is not scheduled. I've been sloughed off much the same way, my Lord. Run along then and practice wearing a tin sword you got hung on you before it tripped you. Tripped me? Aye, run and play. This one's been used, the knicks along the edge were made on tougher than you. Tell me, Lady Queen, I wish to see her now. My orders are strict, my Lord. Her majesty has great problems of state. And they concern me more than some others. Now I've argued enough with women and women-faced men. A room's a room and a door's a door. Shall I enter without warning or will you announce me to her? Your Majesty, I will speak with my Lord alone. Your Majesty. Do I find you angry? Aye, at these pests and midges. You saw me yesterday? I have been standing since this early morning. Aye, and some hundred crows out in the corpus and the cliff-zed. Waiting for the smoke to rise from your breakfast, Jimmy. And by the Lord, these crows are a funny company. I've had four full hours to study them. You come to tell me this? I come to tell you I've never shown such patience for a woman, not in my life before. When I would see my girl, why, I must see her. Your girl? Give me leave since I'm a queen with the kingdom to reign over to queen it once in a while. I tell you truly, I've a manners of a rook. For we're all crows here and that's what's understood in this town. But I could be tame and spit my tongue with courtly speeches if I could be sure of you. If I could knoll from one day to another what to make of your ways. You shut yourself up with secretaries and ministers, harking for weeks on end to that trouble. While I perch me on the rocks and look my eyes out. When I was the thirteen, a pretty lad fell in love with me. He'd come all afternoon, late midnight, early dawn, sopping with due fall. Stand there waiting for a glance. I've never had such tribute. This is no boy. This is a man comes beating your door in now. It may be you're too young to know the difference, but it's time you learned. You've had your way, Lord. We've spoken though I had no time to give. And now with your pardon. You'll go about the business of marrying someone else. I cannot marry you. I beg you, ask it not, speak not of it. Let me go now. They've made a slave of you. This half-brother of yours, this fox of a maitland, this doddering chateau de roux. What they'd like best of all is to wreck you, break you completely, rule the country themselves. And why they fear me is because I'm your man alone and man enough to stop them. Yes, you are man enough. It's dangerous to be honest with you, my boy, but honest I'll be. Since I've been woman-grown, there's been no man save you, but I can take his hand steadily in mine and look in his eyes steadily too and feel in myself more power than I felt in him. All but yourself. There is aching fire between us, a fire that could take deep hold and burn down all the marches of the West and make us great or slayers. Yet it's not to be trusted. Our minds are not the same. If I gave my hand to you, I should be pledged to rule by wrath and violence to take without denial and mount on others' ruin. That's your way. And it's not mine. You'll find no better way. There's no other way for this nation of turtles and cravings here you strike first or die. Your brother Murray seeks your death. Elizabeth of England seeks your death and they work together. Nay, you mistrust too much. God have mercy, child. Be staunch to me. You have been staunchest of all. Let me not lose your arm, no. No, your love. You know how much you have of mine. I'm here alone made queen in a set hard bitter time. Aide me, I'm not hinder. So what should we do? Lay deep the ear. Do you use guile on me? No, sweet. I love thee. And I could love thee well. Go now and leave me. We've been seen too much together. You must lay this hand in no one's else. To mine. I have the lease on it myself. It's not my own. But it would be yours if it were mine to give. And now to Mary's court comes an ambassador from England in the person of Lord Drogmorton whose purpose is to trick the Scottish queen into marriage with Lord Donley. Come down to earth and speak without swaggering. What is it that Elizabeth would have me do? There is some hope, Your Majesty, that when you seek a husband you will not do so to bolster up your claim to the English crown. That had not occurred to me. But surely, your choice in marriage will imply your attitude. I have no intention of fighting my profit once. But if I had, I've received enough advice already on that point. I'm more of it. And I'm tender. Say no more, madam. And I will say no more. Oh, out with it now. Give me the advice. I won't take it. Oh, why, you see, Your Majesty, Elizabeth had a fear of this. The young Lord Donley has come north against her will. Why is here we don't know. Nor whether by invitation, nor for what plans you have concerning him. I have none. Then if you will, forget what I have said. It was only that this Donley combines to exactness what Elizabeth dreads in case you marry. After you, he's next to her throne. And if you had a son, why, he'd be heir to England. And I think the plain fact is that Elizabeth would rather choose her own heir. Now, heaven forgive me. I am heir to the throne of England. And after me, whatever children I have, is it part of her love to cut me off from my right? In brief, my queen has wished that you might choose the Bothwell or perhaps another. And that's the message. We're down to it at last. Lord Throtmorton, I marry where I please, whether now or later. And I abate not one jot of my good blood lean on the English throne. Nay, I shall rather strengthen it if I can. This will hardly please you. I could hardly expect it would. But I too am a power, and it matter what pleases me. This was all? This is all I am commissioned with. I shall seat your safe conduct. Yes? Will your majesty see a gentleman calling himself Lord Bothwell? He's in again? There's no keeping him out. The doxy invited me in herself. You may go, Beepen. Yes. Lord, I have heard from England. Mary McQueen, what you heard I could have guessed. She's a demon. She bodes you ill. I believe it now. Would heaven had been born deep somewhere in the Highlands and there met you? I'm made in your path and you, but a Highland woman who needed me. Why, if you love me, Marie, you're my maid and I your soldier. And it won't be. I it will be. Look, Buffalo, I'm a sovereign and you obey no one. Well, I'm married to you. You'd be king here in Edinburgh. And I'd have no mind to your ruling. They'll beat you alone. Together we could cope them. Love you, I'm made. Love you, I have, but not now and no more. It's for me to rule, not you. I'll deliver up no land such a hothead. If you've been born to the blood, I'd say I take it. The heavens had a meaning in this. The royal blood's in me. I will have no master. Nay, I am jealous of this, my steward blood. Jealous of what it is meant in Scotland. Jealous of what it may mean. They've attacked that blood and I'm angry. They'll meet more anger than they know. And who has angered you? Not I. Elizabeth. I thought so. She's afraid if I'm half a prophet that you'll marry me. No, her fear's run the other way. She's afraid I'll marry Donnelly and threaten her throne and so I might. Will you tell me what that means? I mean if I have a son he'll govern England. And so he might if he were mine too. Nay, might. But it must be. She dares to threaten my heritage. Does that mean Lord Donnelly? My lady, will you stoop so low to choose a weapon? This is not worthy of the girl I've known. Am I to be ousted by a pape jay? An end of moldy string? You take too much on yourself of the future. Think of us and the hours close on us here we might have together. Leave something to the gods in heaven. They look after lovers. Oh, what's a little love? A trick of the eyes, a liking to be set beside the name you'll have forever or your son will have? You don't offer enough Lord Buffle. You're not true in it and I'm not true to myself and what I feel for you. I'm no mute player to languish and write sonnets when my lady says me nay. But when the tug begins around your throne you'll be lost without me. Try no threats toward England. It will tax a hardly man all his time to hold what you have. We differ there too. What I have I'll defend for myself. If you marry this Donnelly, I take away my hand. Before heaven he believes he's held me up so far and then I'd fall without him. I believe it and it's true. Donnelly, no miracle could make him a king. He's a fool and he'll rule like a fool. We shall see Lord Buffle. Well, I'm sped. My suit's cold. But by heaven lady, Donnelly, he sticks in my craw. I can't go him. Will you learn Lord Buffle that this is not your palace but mine? Or must you be taught that lesson? There's been a bond between us. We'll find it hard to forget. You may, not I. I've set my face where I'm going. Last, last Godfembe. You've seen the last of me. I've given no leave for departure, Lord Buffle. I need no leave, no leave taking. You see no more of me. From the windows on the top floor is Miss Jane C. Who came to Hollywood a year ago and is now an extra over at the Paramount Studios. Today she's home early to greet a friend just arrived from New York. Let's listen in. It's a break that Betty's away so you can use this bedroom the whole two weeks you're here. I've cleaned out the top drawers there and there's room in the closet. Well, thanks darling. I hang my dresses up right away. We can talk while I unpack. Kevin, this bag was stuffed and something's dropped on the floor. I'll get it. Oh, it's under the bed. Here it is. Wait. There's two of them. Three of them. For Pete's sake. Luxe toilet soap. Certainly darling. Never go anywhere without it. No cosmetic skin for little netty. You know, unless cosmetics are thoroughly removed. You're explaining to me and after I've been in Hollywood for a year. Well, net old girl, I'll have to hand it to you. We may be able to tell you something out here about how movies are made and show you the coconut robe or the brown derby. But we're not going to be able to tell you a thing about smart complexion care. It's because Luxe toilet soap has active lather that it guards so effectively against cosmetic skin. Little blemishes and large pores, dullness. It carries away every trace of dust, dirt, stale rouge and powder. Use it before you put on fresh makeup. Always before you go to bed. Use it regularly. You'll learn why nine out of ten screen stars use it. At home in their own luxurious bathrooms and in their studio dressing rooms as well. Now, back to Mr. DeMille. Joan Crawford, Franchotone and Judith Anderson return to us now in Mary of Scotland. An evening in the year 1566, Mary has been married to Lord Dudley for only a year with already the vicious actions of the new king have reflected on the throne. The web of lies surrounding Mary has grown stronger. Malicious tongues have linked her name falsely without a Ritcio, her secretary. In a hall in the palace, Mary is seated near the great heart. Ritcio and the ladies in waiting form a circle about her. Mary is sad and Ritcio knows the reason. Oh, my lady, I shall never forgive myself. My favorite Lord Dudley, and he's our witness, not our strength. None could have known that. I should have known. Bothwell would have been better. Bothwell? Aye, Bothwell. He'd have held them off. There's no trifling with him. Let's have no talk of Bothwell. He's better away. The country's been much quieter since he left it, hasn't it, madam? Much quieter. You'll have a child, Your Majesty. You'll have an heir, and then you'll be happier. With Donnelly's child, he will change, too. The man changes when there are children. We must hope so. His Majesty will return tomorrow? He was to have returned three days ago, but the hunting may have been delayed. We may expect him soon. Your Majesty, I have a request which you had denied before, but which I must make again. It is necessary for me to leave, Scott. Don't read to you. I grow lonely for Italy. We know who I read to you, and I won't have it. I won't have my friends driven from me. I think it best. Has His Majesty spoken to you? No, only by the way. I'm not wanted here. You know that. The king is full of these whims and fancies, my dear read to you. If I gave way to one, I should have the Humryman all. You and I know that I'm quite innocent with you, and you with me. And I can't spare you. Majesty, I tell you honestly, it's torture to speak of going away, and yet, I want no harm to come to you through me. And none will. The king is jealous of everyone my read to you. Everyone I see or have seen is a brain-sick notion. I know that he has acted and spoken foolishly in many such matters, but as for danger, there is none. I hope there is none. His Majesty? My Lord. I'm not expected perhaps. Too early. A thought too early. I'll retire, come when I'm wanted. No, my Lord. You've been long expected and more than welcome. Aye, a pretty wife. A housewife with her maids. A pretty sight. And maybe a cavalier or two for the maids' company. That's the city down all. I'll not intrude. Stay, my lady. Stay, Ritcio. I am the one to go at sea. You're tired, my Lord. Will you wish some service, something to eat or drink? She sends me off to bed, you note. You noted, Ritcio. My Lord, I hoped you would have some other word for me when you return. I think if I gave you the word you've earned, you wouldn't stay to hear it. Ribbon! Ribbon! What is this? You will retire, flyer. Who are you? My good friend Ribbon. Is this a place for Rama? I will receive Lord Ribbon another time. The gallant's there of him. This is my apartment, sir, and I ask you to go. Not yet, my sweet. Lord Douglas comes here too. I demand little courtesy, but that little I must have. Are these your friends? If so, take them elsewhere. Aye. I'm to have my friends in my apartment, and you're to have yours here. Let's follow Ritcio with the cute hair there. That's he, the one we have in question. He! He! I tell you that Italian's born! Your Majesty, take him! Lord Douglas, Ribbon! Whatever you have in hand here, put no faith in this king I've crowned and set beside me. His word is a paper shield. I'm king in this country, Missus, and I know my rights. Let me pass. Nay, lads, my sword's at me. Take my creed, lie, Ritcio. We don't take care of him. No! Douglas, I'll remember this. Murdered him. You pack of filthy cowards. Aye, and done well. Done well. Oh, fools and cowards. Oh, Ritcio, Ritcio, it was I who wouldn't let you go. You might cover that sight. Is he dead? Yes, madam. Oh, you do well. You do well, all of you. You shall answer for this. There'll be no answering. We know what we know about you. You pitiful dote. To think such a calf should rule, and it's my choosing. God may forgive you, not I and Ritcio. Take yourselves out. You pollute the dead to stand there. Come, we've done our work. And well done, too. Ritcio, he wanted to glue it his way. Madam, take care. The blood will stain your dress. Oh, if that were all. This blood will bring more blood after. Now I see. Before I reign here, clearly there will be many men like so-called slain and needless quail, slain and with each one with blood spilled but once like his. Oh, I tell you, beating my soul is a gas to this blood spilled for me. And yet it hardens me, too. These are their men as... This is the way they go to work. I shall work on them, and not too lightly. They think of me as a girl, afraid of them. They shall see. And yet my mind believes nothing of what I say. I'm weak as a deep script and wept out before them. Your Majesty, there's someone here who would speak with you. Let no one enter. No one. In all this kingdom I can trust but five and one's myself. And we're women, all of us. But he's from France and says that he has news. From France? What is his name? He gave me the token for you. No name. It's a crow's feather. Tell my Lord, Both, will I have no wish to see him now or later? Oh, Madam, you'll see him. I brought him along with me. Your Majesty. Your Majesty, you have unwelcome company this hour if I've heard the right. And I cannot to be another. But I come to make an offer I made before. To be your soldier. I have no time to talk, Lord Both, nor do I wish to see you. The time has gone by. My Queen, turn not away, your friends. You're few enough. Too few it seems to prevent what's happened. You'll go now. I'm not unkind. But I'm cut off from you, you know that. Aye. There was no need to hide your weeping. He was over young to die. It's not for him. No, it's for all I wanted my life to be and is not. Majesty, you have a fortunate star. It will come well yet. If I have a star at all, it's an evil one. To violate my rules, to my servant before my eyes, Oh, how I must be hated. They'll pay for that. Perhaps. I've taken an oath they'll pay for it. Dear Majesty, I wearied of France and exile, wearied of a sun and wine, and looked north over the water, longing for fog and heather in my own country. Further, the news was none too happy from Scotland. They want your throne and plan to have it. But I mean to live in this land and mean you to be queen of it. The Earl of Bothwell is home and spoiling for a fight. For four day dawns they'll hear from me. Lord, I thank you. Give me no thanks. I like a fight too well to pretend it's a virtue. You have no army. I have my board of men. Lord Huntley's joined with me in his highland kilties. If you'd call your clans, we could drive them to the wall. It's a war then. It's war already. They've turned your darnly against you. They'll use them as long as they need his seal. It's in the wind. This darnly has not long to live. I'd have no hand in that, nor you. You see, I need you and you need me, but I'll be cursed if darnly is needed on this earth. You have never yet learned how to take an order. And never will, from man or woman living, sovereign or nave. I have not been conquered and will not be. But I offer you my loyalty and it's worth the more for that. You should be my Lord Admiral and act for me. Yes. And to that let me add how my breath caught when I knew you were here. Hoping I know not what. Not to be. Hopes I must strangle down. Oh, Bathwell. Bathwell, I was wrong. I loved you all the time and denied you. Forgive me, even too late. I tell you, we shall be happy yet. No, for I think I've been at the top of what I'll have. And all the rest is going down. You're weary. You're born too much. They shall pay for this. Come no nearer, my Lord. It's not ours to have. Go now. Yes, Your Majesty. Yet I tell you, we shall be happy and there will be nothing not ours to have. The Earl of Bathwell's prophecy came true in part for Donley was mysteriously murdered and some months after his death the Queen and Bathwell were married but their happiness was short-lived for rumors again beset the throne. Rumors that Bathwell himself had murdered the King and set himself up in his place. Scotland was split in two and the rebels arrayed themselves in battle against their sovereign. At a parley in Dunbar Castle Murray, the Queen's half-brother addresses the vanquished Earl of Bathwell. We have little to gain, Lord Bathwell, by a conference with you. The battle is ours. The Queen is prisoner to us. But to spare ourselves further bloodshed and spare you bloodshed we grant this respite and ask that you surrender without conditions. No, I thank you. Moreover, Murray, if your counts to be foremost in this council we'll stop now and argue the matter outside. Be patient, my lord. We are here to make terms as you are, Bathwell. The Queen and you have been defeated. We made war only because you two were married and because she planned to make the King. You make war on us like the pack of lying hounds you are by swearing in public and in court that we killed Donley so that we might marry. You've won with that lie. You have a mouth wroth out with it. And now, what do you want? What do you ask us? First, that he leave Scotland. That's easily said. What else? Why next, that the Queen should delegate her powers to the Lords of the Council. Those you see before you. I see them. And bind herself to act with our consent only. No more? No more. Then here are my conditions. I will leave and trouble you no more. If you pledge your word that the Queen's to keep her throne and her power intact without prejudice to her rights. What if you dare encroach one inch on her sovereignty? Guard your gates for I'll be at them. Aye, you make your turn. Aye, I make mine. Defeated I still make mine. And you'll do well to heed them. I shall not leave also to see the Queen for a moment. You know our answer. Then look to yourselves. Take his terms, my Murray. Are we to fight a war and win and toss the spoils away? I am agreement for I am in haste. And if you say no to me, I have other plans. Aye, say let him go and leave her the throne. And if you do, this sword stays in a scabbard and lucky for all of you. You give your pledge. Lord Maitland. I give my pledge Lord Bulfwell for all here present. We have not rebelled against the Queen and will not. If you are banished. Then give me leave to speak alone with her. With the Queen? Aye, for a moment. You are safe, my Queen. Safe and set free and may keep your kingdom. At what price? They've made a bargain with me. God knows whether they'll keep it, but I think they will for Maitland gave his word and he's been honest. What bargain? You've sacrificed yourself for this. What have you offered? Nothing to weigh against what you'll keep. I've given my earl. That's a trifle to what we say. You shall have it back and more to put with it. No, I've accepted exile. I'm to leave the kingdom. Well then, I'm exiled too. I'm your wife and I love you, Bulfwell. The bargain's made. You may keep your crown without me, but not with me. Do you abdicate your throne? What's left? Calling the men of your God. Cut our way through and ride. They'll never hit us. We can rouse the North. Ask help from France and England. Return with an army they dare not meet. Need to raise no army, Marie. You forget what a drag I am on you. The North, the Southern, the South toward you and me. What's left we must do apart. What if we lost at the worst we'd have each other? Then do you envision the end of that? A woman who was a queen. A man who was the earl her husband but fugitives. Put to it to ask for food and lodging. Enemies on every road. They weary, heart sick. Turning at last on each other with reproaches. She saying I was a queen would be one now but for you and he I have lost my earl. I betrayed you once and betrayed my love, but I learned by that. I swear though it cost my kingdom not again. If you wish to thrive, break that oath. Betray me, betray your love. Give me up forever. For you know as I know we lose together. God knows what will ever win apart. Nothing. Oh, buff. The earth goes empty. What worse could happen than parting? Can I stay? This once for the last I can save you from yourself and me. There's something wills it I go alone. This is your kingdom. Rule it. You must not surrender. They'd serve you as they served on me. I'll not surrender. I'll see to my own banishment. Find my guard, force my way out and go. We must say goodbye. Bye, girl. We've spent what time we had and I know not when I'll see you. Let's have no pretense on worthy of us. It's likely we'll not meet again on the same star. God help me and all women here in this world and all men. Let all women and men drink deep while they can their happiness. It goes fast and never comes again. Face these lords like a queen and rule like a queen. I'd help you if I could, but I'm no help. You must meet them now. Yes, I'll meet them. Can you break your way through? They're watching. It's a chance. Huntley. Huntley. I'm here. We ride at once for straddling. Be ready for a fight. We're ready. I must take my moment. I know. Goodbye, sweet. But if they wrong you, if you ever need me, look for me back. Goodbye to our two wills. Lord, away, then waste no time. But we'll hit him off. Uncle! History and death! Well, brother. The Earl of Bathwell. Has he gone? He has. You sent him off. That was your ruse. Lord Bathwell will leave Scotland. That was what you wanted. Lord Murray, he's escaped. Hey, clean away. Madam, collect what necessities you require. You will change your residence. That is at my will, I think. You think so? You're to be lodged in Hallarood House for the time. Time to be lodged. And your faith? You pledged your faith and word, all of you, to leave my power untouched. Leave me my throne, if Bathwell and I were potted. We'll keep it, when Lord Bathwell surrendered to us. Go out and take him. Go out and take him, if you can. But for your Queen, I warn you, never since there were kings and queens in Scotland has a leechman laid hen on my line without regret. What you need, gather it quickly. This is betrayal at once of your word in sovereign. Eh, we'll know that. I need nothing. Your Majesty. I am a prisoner beaten. Come after me to Hallarood House. I may have my own room there, Lord Maitland. Yes, Madam. You show great courtesy for a liar and traitor. You lied to us a black and level lie. Blackest and craftiest. It was you we believed. Aye, sister. It was that we countered. Aye, brother. For station identification, this is the Columbia Broadcasting System. This is King. Mary of Scotland, starring Joan Crawford, Franchotone with Judith Anderson, is resumed in a moment. This is the first century when our play was being enacted in real life. Among the closest advisors of Queen Elizabeth were the Earl of Warwick, his younger brother, the Earl of Leicester, and Leicester's son, Essex. Tonight it's my honor to introduce the present Earl of Warwick, member of a family which for centuries has been among the most distinguished in the British Empire. Nephew of Anthony Eden, England's foreign secretary, our guest recently arrived in Hollywood. Here under the name of Michael Brooke, is a motion picture actor. Ladies and gentlemen, Charles Guy Folk-Greville, Baron Brooke and seventh Earl of Warwick. Thank you, Mr. DeMille, but think of what time you'd save if you called me just Mike, or at least Michael Brooke. I'll take that advice, Mike. Queen Elizabeth doesn't fare so well in tonight's play. Do you think we do her an injustice? All I can say, Mr. DeMille, is that Elizabeth did what she thought best for England. Just as Mary did what she thought best for Scotland. My ancestors, as you said, were rather close to Elizabeth. About 10 miles from my home in England is Kenilworth Castle, which many of you will recall from Sir Walter Scott's novel. Elizabeth gave Kenilworth the Earl of Leicester, and they'd visit there quite frequently and often come over to my home. As a matter of fact, I still sleep on what was called Elizabeth's bed. It's a fine old bed with an uproom for five people, if we ever get crowded. I also have a fiddle. When she owned it, it was about 200 years old. So today it's really an antique. It's a beautifully carved, and part of its ripe old age can still be played. Do you have any of Queen Mary's belongings? No, but I've seen several. There's a house near mine which belongs to the Thracmortans. I've been there many times. They owned one of the garments worn by Queen Mary when she met her death. Also, near Wike at Salgrave is the ancestral home of George Washington. And Shakespeare's best place is Stratford. Shakespeare was alive at the time of your play tonight. It's a great romantic age. There are many things with terribly crude. To put it bluntly, it was an age of awful smells. In fact, the gentleman protected himself by carrying a gold or silver ball around his neck, filled with perfumes which he could sniff whenever the going got rather tough. Women used lots of cosmetics which had such funny names as fat of swans, turpentine of a bezo, from one which might address you, Mr. Mill, called soap of Cyprus. But I, they said it had given its weight in gold for a cake of luxe-tartet soap. It's a splendid soap. I took along several cartons on an expedition I made in 1935 through Russia, Persia, Afghanistan and into India. One of the comforts I didn't like to leave behind. I don't blame you. After a trip like that, Mr. Brook, even Hollywood must seem rather a dull place. On the contrary, it's one of the world's most fascinating communities. Certainly the only place where one can learn the motion picture business. I'd like to stay here four or five years, acting and learning, then perhaps I'll be able to make some better pictures of her. Too bad that you're unable to attend the coronation. I regret it tremendously. I know this program is frequently heard across the ocean, and all over England. Although I can't be there on Wednesday, I can at least say what's in my heart. God save the king. In which sentiment, I'm sure we all join you. Mary of Scotland, starring Joan Crawford and Franchotone with Judith Anderson. Escaping from her enemies in Scotland, Mary fled to England, fled to certain doom at the hands of another enemy, Elizabeth. The jealous English queen was quick to seize her advantage. Mary was imprisoned in Carlyle Castle, there to await for help, which never came. In her room, the exiled sovereign turns from her barred window as the heavy door swings open. I had seen but a poor lightness and yet I believe this is Elizabeth. Hi Anne, Elizabeth. May we be alone? Beaten. Yes, sure. I had hoped to see you when last you wrote you were not sure. If I come so doubtfully and with so step, it's not for lack of thinking of you, rather because I've thought too long perhaps and carefully, then at last it seemed if I saw you near and we talked as sisters over these poor realms of ours, some light might break that we'd never see apart. Can it be as I've hoped? Can it be that you've come to me as a friend, meaning me well? Would you have me an enemy? I have plenty to choose among his enemies. What I seek now is only my freedom, so that I may return and prove an open court before my witnesses that I'm guiltless. You are the Queen of England and I'm held prisoner in England. Why am I held? And who is it holds me? It was to my interest, child, to protect you, lest violence be offered to a princess and set a precedent. You wish me here? You wish me in prison? Have we come to this? It's safer and better for both our kingdoms if you remain my guest. For how long? Until the world is quieter. And who will rule in my place? For I who ruled now, your brother. Elizabeth, I have been here long while already. If it's your policy to keep me, shut me up, I can argue no more. No. No, I beg now. There's one I love in the north. Elizabeth, I have been here long while already. There's one I love in the north. You know that. And my life's there. My throne's there. My name to be defended. And I must lie here dark and from news and from the sun lie here impaled on a brain's agony. Then be advised and find your abdication. Stay now a moment. I begin the glimpse behind this mask of yours. It was this you wanted from the first. Yes, what I wanted. I didn't know which to charm you. I make no incantations. You came here by your own road. I see how I came. Back. Back each step the wrong way. And each sign followed as you'd have me go. It was you who forced Batwell from me. You there and always. Your life was a threat to mine. Your throne to my throne. Your policy a threat. And you'd take my life and love to avoid this threat? Yeah, keep your life and your love too. The lords have brought a parchment for you to sign. Sign it and live. And if I will not sign this abdication you've tasted prison. Try a diet of it. And so I will. I can wait and I can wait. I can better wait than you. Batwell will fight free again. Cacaldi will fight beside him. And others will spring up from these dragon's teeth you've sown. Each week that passes I'll be stronger and Murray weaker. I wait for Batwell. And wait for him here. Child. I studied this gambit before I played it. I will send each year this paper to you. Not signing you will step from one cell to another. Never always till you reach the last. Forgotten. Forgotten of men. Forgotten among causes. Wait then for Batwell's rescue. It will never come. I may never see him. Never. It would not be wise. And suppose indeed you won within our lifetime. They still will find you out. Now take a triumph now for I'll win men's hearts in the end. Though the sifting takes this hundred years or a thousand. Child, child, are you gulled by what men write in history? This or that? Never true. It's not what happens that matters but what men believe to have happened. They will believe the worst of you. The best of me. And still I win. A demon has no children and you have none. Will have none. Can have none perhaps. Leave me here and set me lower this year by year as you promise. Still, still I win. I have been a woman and I love her as a woman loves. Lost as a woman loses. I have born a son and he will rule Scotland and England. You have no heir. A devil has no children. By heaven you shall suffer this. But slowly and that I can do. A woman can do that. Come turn the key. I have a hell for you in mind where you will burn and feel it. Live where you like and softly. One small I ask you and patiently give up your throne. No, devil, my pride is stronger than yours and my heart beats blood such as yours has never known. And in this dungeon I win here alone. Then good night, my good night beaten. You will not see your maids again, I think. It's said they bring you news from the north. I thank you for all kindness. Year after year the faithful missive came. Year after year with head held high the exiled queen refused to sign. Until at last another document arrived one with no need of Mary's name to make its fatal clauses binding. This, then, my good lord is the warrant. The warrant for your death, my lady. Signed by Elizabeth and by her my fate is sealed. And yet not death for I have died thousands death with each one worse than that which went before. I welcome then these tidings and I pray to God the end of all my bitter suffering is at hand. Tell your queen, my lord that I am ready. Many years before Mary Queen of Scots had embroidered six words upon a piece of linen. Six simple words which were in my end is my beginning. Our play, ladies and gentlemen, is done. The royalty of ancient Scotland and England we bring you the royalty of modern Hollywood and the stage in a brief interlude with our stars Joan Crawford, Franchotone, and Judith Anderson. It's rather difficult to be original, ladies and gentlemen. And what you want most of all to say is simply thank you. I think you might express our appreciation of the Lux Radio Theatre, John. That's right, but personally I feel indebted not only to the Lux Radio Theatre but also to Lux Toilet Soap. Well, I was coming to that, Judith. I think everyone should at least try Lux Toilet Soap. And if they're like me, they'll keep on using it. After all, it's the easiest thing in the world to have a smooth, healthy complexion when you let Lux Toilet Soap take care of it for you. And certainly there's no doubt that a lovely complexion is very important to women. That's exactly the way I feel, Joan. Mr. DeMille, what are we going to listen to? The Lux Radio Theatre next Monday night. A play, Joan, that has a particular message and a particular appeal to every family. Maybe you saw it on the screen or when it was entertaining capacity crowds on Broadway. It has a compelling honesty and a simple love story that I'm sure will keep you all very close to your loudspeakers. The title, another language and starring in it will be Betty Davis, Fred McMurray and John Beale. Sponsors, the makers of Lux Toilet Soap, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night when the Lux Radio Theatre presents Betty Davis, Fred McMurray and John Beale in another language. As a special guest of honor, you will hear also from the mother of our president, Mrs. James Roosevelt, Mrs. Cecil B. DeMille saying goodnight to you from Hollywood. Word of appreciation to those who are with us in the cast tonight. Edward Cooper as John Knox, Kenneth Hunter as Burley, Vernon Downing as John Lee, Walter Kingsford as Throgmorton, Vernon Steele as Maitland, Leo McCabe as More, Phyllis Cuglin as Mary Beaton and James Eagles as Richo. The renouncer is the Melville Roy. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.