 Family Theater presents Dona Michi and Jeanette Nolan. Jeanette Nolan and John McIntyre in Sarah Bernhardt. To introduce the drama, your host and narrator... Thank you, Gene Baker. We all wear many masks in our lives, for one reason or another. So the life of Sarah Bernhardt, one of the greatest actresses of all time, should be very close to our hearts. What is acting but a masquerade? And what is life but a deeper masquerade where the hearts and souls of men are etched on their faces? This is the Paris of 1844. The day, October 22nd, the event, a child is born. A frail little girl child of Dutch and Jewish parentage. A delicate head, misted with a web of red-gold hair. Skin so white, so transparent. The blue veins looked as though they'd been traced by indelible ink. A pretty baby? No. A plain, everyday type of baby. But many things were in store for this child. Titles, gleaming swords, smiles and prayers. This child was to become the woman whose intelligence, genius and zest for living, not only blinded those about her to her plain face, but of that very plainness made a thing of beauty. Sarah Bernhardt, the divine Sarah, who now speaks for herself. Yes, but I was the ugly little one. And not only was I ugly, but I was lonely. You see, my papa passed away when I was still a baby. My mother, she was a famous beauty, traveled a great deal everywhere. So most of my childhood was spent in a convent at Versailles. And at the great age of 15, it was only natural that I decided to become a nun. That brought my mother home fast enough, together with an old friend of the family, the Duke de Moni. Oh, Sarah conceived this mad idea, becoming a nun is more than I can understand. I was born for a life of prayers and meditation. I would join the Order of the Augustine so that I may teach others at the convent, as I was taught. And besides, there is no happiness for me except the convent. Oh, don't dramatize yourself, Sarah. You will marry as soon as possible and receive the marriage dowry your papa left you. Mary, I will starve first. And starve, you shall. I cannot support you from the proceeds of my annuity. My share, it is not a question of money. We must decide what is best for Sarah's future. Since she does not take kindly to marriage, I suggest a career. Career? Monsieur Le Duc, I insist on deciding my own future. I will become a nun. No, no, no, no, no. You are too young to know what you want to become, Sarah. Why? Leave that decision to your elders. Oh, now you seek to decide my future. And what of my past? Sarah. For 15 years, my mother left me to grow alone while she traveled all over Europe. I did not leave you alone. Your uncle and godfather guarded you well. Oh, Sarah, what have they done to you? Sarah, you're breaking your mother's heart. Oh, my poor mother. You know your Sarah loves you. But please, on my knees, I implore you. Sarah, get up. Allow me to become a nun. It is so beautiful at the convent. The chanting voices of the bells. The white doves. The sweet, sweet lilacs. And I will bless you all my life, mama. At Vespers I will whisper your name in my prayers. And when the candles shine forth their benediction, I will think of my beautiful mama, gallantly living in the sad, mad world. Oh, my child. She is mad. Nonsense. Send her to the conservatoire. Sarah has a born actress. Actress? An actress trained at the conservatoire like an acrobat or a dancing flea. Oh, no, Demone. No. Sarah is far too thin and frail to ever become an actress. You think so? She may be fragile as a lily, but she has the vitality of a horse. A horse? Tonight we shall visit the theater of Francais, and tomorrow you shall be enrolled at the conservatoire. Sarah Bernhardt, an actress. Sarah went to the theater that night, and from the moment the curtain rose, she knew it was not only rising on the play, but on the whole future of Sarah Bernhardt. Thrilled by the performance, she willingly enrolled at the conservatoire, and in 1862 made her first appearance at the Comédie Francais. In the days that followed, Sarah became the toast of Paris. Then Spain fell before her genius. England. Ah, what golden days. And the nights. What beautiful moon-drenched, perfumed nights. Bernhardt became a legend. A warm, living legend. The ugly duckling had grown into a swan. For the flame of her spirit, the burning genius made Sarah beautiful. But with the world at her feet, the actress still had the one thing she'd lived with all her life. The thing she hated most. Longliness. Then in 1880, Sarah fell deeply in love. And then she hoped to find the answer to her problem. Sublime happiness. Companionship. Edward, listen to that music. Music. I'm looking at the most beautiful music I know, Sarah. The bright, burning stars over here. The lights of Paris set our feet. Edward, is there anything more beautiful than a spring night in Paris? I know of one thing. Oh, and what is that? What could possibly be more lovely than this night on my balcony? The music from the café across the street. And spring. A small sort of girl. Slim, red-headed. With eyes? Well, those eyes tell you what she really is. Do they? Sarah, those eyes of yours. They burn, they promise, they dream. Oh, oh, oh. Edward, you are becoming a poet. You, an American. Just what does that mean? Oh, Americans are always so, so busy. But you... What about me? How can I say it? You are so... No. Well, I know you are successful. That is unimportant. But what is important? Because you are successful. You know where you are going. I like that in a man. Sarah. Sarah, you know, it's... When I was a kid, I... I think I knew about you. A princess I'd rescue someday or the girl I'd want to live with all my life. Oh, I like the girl you'd like to live with all your life better than the princess, Edward. The first is a little boy's dream. The last, a man's. I... I know you're a great actress, Sarah. A wonderful success. I love you, Sarah. But if you marry me, well... You would not make me give up my career. Well, no, I suppose not. Then we marry. I go on tour with a play. Then we have a baby. Then I go on tour again. Sarah. Oh, I have shocked you. I have already gone too far along in our plot, my darling. Come here, my dear. Sarah. You see, my love, Sarah Bernhard is an actress. Even in my own love story, I get a little ahead of myself, no? It's all right after you get used to it. But right now, you do leave me a little breathless. Plots always fall into certain patterns, Edward. Good or bad. Now ours is good. We marry. We have the baby. She had found the love. But at the very peak of her romance with Edward, a strange thing happens. Days pass without a word from him. And now after a brilliant performance, Sarah pensively enters a dressing room. Oh, Mimi, I could die. Die? But, madame, you were surprised. Edward, I mean, I mean, it's Edward. Edward? Oh, my heart bleeds. How can a man, even an American, do this to the woman who loves him so much? But your American did something, madame. What? A note, madame. From Monsieur Edward. A note, Mimi! You were teasing me. Oh, I shall kill you. Oh, give it to me. My heart is whole again. Edward, my darling, my darling. Sarah. My sweet Sarah, he says. I love you. Perhaps never more than tonight as I write this. Oh, Edward, my love. It is not my wish, sweetheart. Your father has heard about us. He has summoned me home. He is old and ill. Beloved, I must go. I shall return to your arms quickly as I can. Until then, I leave my heart in your keeping. But he said he would return. Oh, no. They never return, Mimi. I know. We? Sarah, and I have with me someone who wishes to meet our Sarah. I wish to meet no one. My heart is broken. Sarah? Get out. You see, Monsieur Sarah, all my life I have managed actresses, but none can equal this Sarah Bernards. As artist. As artist, as devil, as angel, as ice-fire, thunder, lightning. Call it what you will. One word is enough. Genius. Genius. Is having her photograph taken in a coffin a mark of genius? Yes. It's beautiful. Ah, you will outlive all of us, especially me, Parin. Monsieur Parin. Also, Monsieur Sarah, she went up in a balloon. Bernhardt in a balloon. Oh, you do not like it. No, I do not like it. Go. Go, worm. Sarah, put down that veil. Get out! Get out! My darling, why did you go to America? What shall I do? Why don't you go to America? Monsieur Sarah, you're still here. I will give you a guarantee of 5,000 francs for each performance and half the receipts above 15,000 francs. I will also pay all travelling expenses for you and your staff. America. I could see Edward again. I am offering you World Stardom. Sarah Bernhardt. World Stardom. The phrase has a fine, rich flavour. Monsieur Sarah, of course I will go to America. American tour was a succession of ovations for Bernhardt. And in the wealth of public acclaim, Sarah's broken heart and Edward were soon forgotten. She thrilled to the challenge of the new world, laughed at her admirers. Reporters, poets, millionaires were all her slaves, except one. Monsieur Sarah. Yes, Sarah. The man who brought her to America, who tamed her wild, turbulent nature and guided her through a most dangerous period, the height of her fame. Sarah was idolised by millions, but ruled by one. Sarah. Ever at her side, quiet, reassuring faithful friend and adviser. Isn't that life beautiful, Sarah? Was it only this morning you spoke of suicide because a new gown displeased you? This morning, a thousand years ago. But tonight, ah, in this present moment, the night is filled with the music of moonlight and spring blossoms. It reminds me of Paris. I think I shall return to Paris. You will do nothing of the sort. What? I will not allow you to ruin your career, Sarah, simply because a few blossoms are blooming in Paris. Simply because of your ten percent? Yes, you will. Nevertheless, you will continue your American tour. And if I should fall ill... I'd know it was subterfuge and carry you on to the stage. You terrible, Sarah. Have you no heart, no pity for the suffering of others? You gave me your words, Sarah. I... I... Where do I next appear, Sarah? Which American city? Sarah was starving anew the hearts of America with Leglong. And all over the country, young girls were falling in love with a fascinating character she created on the stage as Napoleon's son, the Egret. And then one day the climax came. A mother wrote the actress saying that her daughter was so enchanted with Leglong that she would have nothing to do with any other young men. So Sarah invited the girl and a mother to visit the theatre as her guest and then to come backstage after the performance. And now my oldest dressing gown, Mimi, the green one. That will do terrible things to me. But, madame, to entertain visitors in such a fashion, you have removed all makeup, put on all the harshest lights and now the green dressing gown. I look old, Mimi. Calm, girl, the truth. We have little time. Madame, for the first time, since all the years I've been with you, you appear old. Good. What? The green dressing gown, Mimi. Very well, madame. Now, let me examine myself in the mirror. Our visitors, Mimi, right on cue. Won't you please to come in? Madame is expecting you. Thank you. Welcome. Welcome, Madame Austin. It was so nice of you to write me. Tell me of your enjoyment of my play. You are... You are Sarah Bernhardt. But, yes, and this lovely child must be your daughter Anne, is it? Yes. How beautiful she is and so young. How many hearts have you already broken, Sherry? Well, Anne, Madame Bernhardt is speaking to you. I'm sorry, but you said... I mean, I thought we were going to meet Leglong. Leglong? But you have met him. What? I am Leglong. You? Or rather, I was Leglong out there on the stage. You stare, my child. Look at me well. This is what I am really like. There is no such person as Leglong except on this stage where I create him with makeup, footlights, and words put in my mouth by the author. No. No. Oh, but I have disillusioned you. Take heart, Sherry. You will find a far better young man than ever was Leglong. Go home now and be a sensible girl. Golden years for a great woman. And then the black tragic hours. In 1915 and all leg injury grows worse and Sarah finds herself an audience to her doctor. As usual, she arrives with her. I'm afraid that I have bad news for you, Madame Bernhardt. My leg? Is it that bad? Yes. But you have imprisoners in a cast for weeks. I have not been able to walk to work. Why is it not completely healed? Genovitis is more stubborn than a cast, than sacrifice, even more than patience. Doctor, you said this was bad news. Madame Bernhardt, I have studied your history most carefully. Oh, that should have made good reading. This melody of yours may have come from one of several things, but I am most concerned with the month-wearing you played Joan of Arc. A role that one must pray to play. And you fell on your knees many times in that cast. Oh, but yes. In full armour. The maid of Orléans war armour. She would pray in it, of course. That is so, Monsieur le docteur. I remember now the pain in my legs had its beginnings then. I gave it no attention. It would go and come until... Until? Until now, Madame. What are you trying to tell me? There is no cure for synovitis at such an advanced stage. What does that mean? Amputation. Mutation. She will take my leg. Sarah. It's all right, Sarah. I will have to accept this mutilation. You are very brave, Madame Bernhardt. It means the end of your career. Oh, no. But, Sarah. No. Work is my life. Take my leg if you must, but you will not take my life. Nothing will keep me from working. I will go on. I will act again if I have to crawl on the stage. Joan plays tricks on even the most gallant of hearts. And after the operation and convalescence, Sarah, the golden Sarah, found herself chained to a wheelchair. The crushing weight of reality smothered her bright spirit. She was brave, she was gay, but... Jara always at her side. He was the one who knew the truth. Knew it so well that he made his greatest effort for his beloved client. Sarah. Sarah? Yes, Jara. Are you not tired of sitting here day after day, staring out of that window? Yes. I am very tired. You were going on with your career. Enough time has passed. You're quite recovered from the operation. It's time to speak of business. I am 70. Crippled, bound to this hideous chair, that window day and night, day and night. And self-pity. What did you say? I say that you are indulging in rather large amounts of self-pity. Does that become you, Sarah? I want to go home, Jara. Home to Paris. You're giving up, in spite of those brave words in the doctor's office. What were they? I will act again if I... Yes, if I have to crawl on the stage. Jara. I want to go home. Sarah, there's a world war. What does that to do with an old woman? Very well. I will take you back to Paris. Jara, my friend. But on one condition. And what is that? That you give one performance. No. One last performance to a certain audience I have in mind. That is my price for taking you home. I... hate you, Jara. For years I have suspected you had no heart. But I loved you in spite of it. Now I know. And I despise you. But I will do whatever you ask. To return to Paris. Kill you for this. But why? You have humiliated me. What? Those brave ones out there, those soldiers. Most of them have seen the actress that was Bernhardt. And now, in perhaps the hour of their greatest need, you show them an old crippled woman. What shall I give them, Camille? Give them your understanding, Sarah. Give them your heart. Look them. Look well. What? Crutches. Stretches. But these are the wounds. Yes. These are the disabled with the heart, the blind. Now you know how your performance depends on your heart, Sarah. And the sound of your voice. Oh, Jara. My dear. Wheel me on to the stage. Friends. I feel very humble before you tonight. It is a rare privilege. And I cannot tell you how much it means to me. Because, you see, I do am in a wheelchair. But I have a knowledge of you in my heart. And a love. You are my greatest audience. You gallant, wounded. You enduring heroes for such an audience. I am young again. I am whole again. I pray again. You have inspired me. You have given me life. I shall never be old again. And more important, I shall never be lonely again. This presentation of the life of a great actress. Sarah Bernhardt's talent swayed audiences. It was a powerful force. Seldom equaled on the stage. I would like to speak of another powerful force. The most powerful force in the world. Prayer. Prayer is the reason this program is broadcast throughout the world. For the purpose of family theater is to help restore to homes everywhere the joy, the peace and strength that come from daily family prayer. It is yours for the taking. So make it a part of your life. Give it a place in your home. Whatever be your creed, use prayer to strengthen your family's circle. Talk to the God who made us all and loves us all. Experience what we mean when we say the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. From Hollywood Family Theater has brought you Jeanette Nolan and John McIntyre in Sarah Bernhardt with Don Amici as host and narrator. Others in our cast are Virginia Gregg, Edgar Berrier, Lareen Tuttle, Elliott Reed and Jane Webb. This adaptation from The Life of the Great Bernhardt was written by Virginia Cook with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman, was directed for Family Theater by Jaime Del Valle. This is Jean Baker expressing the wish of Family Theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home. And inviting you to be with us next week at this time when Family Theater will present McDonald's Carry in the Bed by Anton Chekov. Join us, won't you? Family Theater is heard throughout the world and originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network, the Mutual Broadcasting System.