 The NBC Theatre presents This is the Screen Director's Guild presentation of the adventurous legend The Exile starring Douglas Fairbanks and introducing the director of the film, Max Opel. The statement that art acknowledges no national boundaries is particularly true of the motion picture medium. Thus it is with a great deal of pleasure that the NBC Theatre welcomes tonight a director who received his film education in Germany and France. In him is exemplified the rare combination of talents which are the starting point of the Screen Director's art. Among his American motion pictures are letter from an unknown woman, the soon to be released production caught, and of course tonight's story, The Exile. Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Max Opel. Thank you. Thank you. I'm very pleased and flattered that tonight the Screen Director's Guild presents The Exile with Douglas Fairbanks Jr. in the screen role of Charles II and Jeanette Waldo Eski. For many years I have had an idea about how history should be presented in the traumatic form and The Exile is that idea come to life. For me over centuries parts of history take on the flavor of an old ballad singing the deeds of brave men who lived in a kind of fairy land. But if such a quality is to be placed upon the screen it requires a special sort of actor. He must possess a certain flair, a certain something I can call only Fairbanks'ism. Fairbanks'ism is a very vital substance in movie making. Kind of glorious energy which escapes from most of us when we lose the dreams of childhood. Well fortunately for this idea Douglas Fairbanks came to me one day and he said... Max I want you to direct a picture for me. Listen, I'll tell you the story. The story begins on a stormy night in the year of our lord 1660. It's night, a storm with thunder and lightning, a slashing downpour of rain and a horseman. A horseman fleeing across Holland in the middle of the 17th century. The fate not only of a nation is riding tonight but of a way of life. A horseman riding the whole fugitive night. And the name of that horseman Charles II, exiled king of England. In the bright morning the exiled king is at his ease pretending to sleep on the bank of a Dutch canal. Pretending to sleep because an enemy, a mounted man and a black cloak and a round hat with ascetic suspicious eyes is riding slowly toward him, stops without dismounting. Yo, hasn't it? Good morning, good morning, good morning. Greetings and God's grace. Greetings, greetings. And have you seen out of a man about two yards high with black hair and limpid and manner? Excuse me but I am a stranger here, far from home and enjoying the hospitality of these Netherlands. English? Indeed. Far from home? For what reason? My health. God heal you, sir. And have you seen out of the fugitive English king Charles Stuart, vanished from England and hiding here? What? That scoundrel among men, that lazy, self-indulgent, wasteful of... Imagine England in the hands of a man like that, eh? Not if Crownwell's men discover him. You have not seen him? Is he about? We found his horse wandering exhausted in the woods. A brave tyrant tormentor of dumb beasts. Speed you on your search, sir. And may you and Charles II come face to face, one day not far off. We shall. Farewell. Farewell, health and long life, countryman. My thanks, countryman. My thanks. I must be on the move. But where? Where? You! Ahoy, canalboat! Can you help me? Keep it headed straight. I'll jump aboard from the bridge. Plenty of time now, Lass. Plenty of time. Now, steady as you go. Steady. I'm trying. All right. Now. So, quick. Hand me the pole. Here. Hold it against your shoulder. I see. And push. I have it now. Oh, that's so much better. Yann would have been furious if I had grounded his bar. Yann? Who's Yann? He owns the boat. He lets me use it if I haul his cargo. Is he your master? My cousin. Healthy? Very. Muscular? A huge man. And he lets you do his heavy work, does he? He owns the farm next to mine, and he owns the debts on my farm and my inn. Three thousand guilders, I owe Yann. You have a farm and an inn, eh? Ever since my father died. Tell me, this farm and inn of yours, is it close? Not yet. I must anchor another night. Good. Why? I find leisurely travels sometime very soothing. And you need help with this barge and swollen moors, don't you? Yes. Good, good. Now I come from a seafaring nation. Consider me your crew. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon that bank. Here will we sit and let the sounds of music creep in our ears. How pretty. What is it? William Shakespeare, a poet who had his day, oh, fifty years ago. Soon forgotten, but while he sang, he sang right beautifully. Charles. Hmm? I was just trying the name. Try it again. Again. Was not your English king named Charles? Scottish, Scottish, Scottish King. Charles Stewart and the Scott. They say he was a more scandalous man. A little rakish at times, but not too bad. They say it is dangerous for an Englishman to side with the exiled king in these times. Well, it's a little inconvenient at times, yes. That is why I wonder, Mistress Katie, if I could hide with you for a while. How? Why I could work on your farm, and at the end I should ask nothing in return but shelter and board. Now tell me, how would you say could you use an extra man in Dutch? Could do an extra man gebreiken. Could do an extra man gebreiken. Well, could you? Yes. Good. Good. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon that bank. It is very lovely. You are lovely. Are you sure he will be soon forgotten this, this villain Shakespeare? If he says such true and lovely things? For weeks the exiled king works at Katie's farm and inn, willingly even gladly performing the most menial labor. Only his cavalier friends in the Hague have been told of his new hideout. And now, one day again, history rides the Dutch lowlands. And... I have news from England. Come, come, come. Hyde, you might have been followed here. Hyde, but the news warrants great risks. Your Majesty, General Monk has declared for us. General Monk on our side? Even now his army marches against the round heads. England is splitted to more factions than ever. And General Monk thinks the country would rally to your side if you return now. Return? Now. What's your Majesty? I'm sorry, Hyde. No. But with Monk on our side now, how can we fail? I said no, Hyde. No. These men are hungry. They yearn for home and family. I know. Ten long years in exile. I know that too. Better lay enough. Is this a time to show hesitation and fear and doubt? Fear? Who speaks of fear? Great heaven man, for two years after Cromwell killed the king, my father, I fought and met defeat. Wasting the blood of men who trusted in me. And all because our hopes were false. False. I was told the three kingdoms would rise behind me to a man. Until I faced the enemy. And I was left alone with a handful of men. Brave men, but beaten beforehand and doomed in advance by false, false hopes. False starts, false promises. And all was the blood of three men, uselessly forfeit. Now, I'll go home, Hyde. When I am freely called by all my countrymen. And not before. The men are ready now. They call you leader. King. King. What good's a king who's only king to some? So be it, sir. There is other news. Not quite so favorable. Colonel Ingram is in Holland. Ingram? Here. That is evil news. If there is one man in Christendom, I fear above another. That man is the executioner Ingram. Oh, describe the man to me, so I'll know him if we meet. Think of the face and habit of death. And that is Ingram. His skin is parched and yellow like a dead man's. His lips are a straight, white gash across his face. And his eyes burn with the light like graveworms in their bony sockets. Consecrated. The fanatic fearing nothing. Naturally. What is death himself to fear? Charles, if you will not return to England, then flee. Flee, Ingram? I think not, Hyde. No, otherwise the cause is lost, Your Majesty. Flee where? Holland is overrun with cromwell spies and swordsmen. Besides... Charles! Charles, where are you? Besides, I... I like it here. In spite of Ingram. You are listening to the Screen Directors Guild production of The Exile starring Douglas Fairbanks and introducing the director of the film, Max Opels. More, two more weeks of idyllic pastoral life on Katie's farm. Then one afternoon Charles is fishing in the canal, for if a cat may look at a king, then a king may look for a catfish. Unheard by him, a figure dressed in tarnished regal clothing moves up behind him, leading a moth-eaten horse. Are you a hollander? A Dutchman? Oh, good day, sir, good day. I'm told there is an inn hereabouts. An excellent inn, my lord. I know for I work there. Ah, but you're English. What... What is your capacity at the inn? I have been promoted to overseer. Excellent. A fellow exile and an overseer. Tell me, what costs bed and board to a fellow countryman, you know? Two guilders a night. Two guilders? Suppose I tell you, in all confidence, that when I have spent the night at your inn, you may charge the next guest twenty guilders without protest, for you may tell him honestly, a king slept in this inn. A king? Which king? Look at me. And though these English garments be the worst for hardship, and though milleniaments be weathered and war-beaten, say, if you can, that you do not recognize your king, Englishman. Not Charles Stuart. I'm the wandering exile Stuart. Yes, sir. Oh, sigh. Rise, and lead me to your inn. You and your employer shall be rewarded handsomely some day. Did you finally get his majesty... our guest to sleep? Finally, yes. He is very indiscreet for a fugitive, Charles. Very indiscreet. Letting all those strangers in the taproom know who he is, but swearing us to secrecy. I tell you, he'll bring Cromwell's round heads down on us, looking for him. Charles, he worries me. He told me he wants you with him when he invades England again. Oh. And when may this be? He said soon. It's all so stupid and wasteful. There are far better things to do than quarrel over politics and kingdoms and all that rubbish. We disagree there, Kate. England is a nation of some seven million people who depend on their leaders. We owe them some sort of debt of... Debt nonsense. You men will always find some excuse to start fighting and to be very proper about it. Debt indeed. Now, I have a debt. A real one that you can count and that means something to plain people. 3,000 guilders. I know. I... I gave you a job and shelter when you wanted it. And now you plan to leave me for that... bare head. If my king calls me, Katie... You will desert me. I will follow my call. Then I will not need your services any longer, Charles. I'm dismissed. Yes. Now? I will not spend my time and my money teaching you farming and management of an inn and see it all go to waste over politics. It is best you leave before... before... Before what? Before I... I come to depend on you too much. I understand. I'll leave in the morning. Good night, Mr. Cady. Do you work at this inn? Yes. English? Yes. I've seen you before. Somewhere. It may be. Tell me plainly. Of which party are you? Party. The parliamentary party? You mean the round heads? Do you call them so? Candidly, sir, if I ever see my home again I shall belong to no party. I have recently renounced politics. Then perhaps I can trust a man without any convictions. I suppose that depends on the trust. I am looking for a man whose face I have not seen in many years. Rumor places him hereabout. His name is Charles Stewart. You refer to the king? We call him Charles Stewart. What? Who down there takes the name of his sovereign, Charles II? The fool, the pompous idiot. And what is this? I despise it round head, where I owe a present. Bear your head. Bear your head, I say. I remove my hat only in the presence of God and in the presence of death. Ah, Asiah, this gentleman here is looking for an uncrowned king. The gentleman's name is Ingram. The executioner? Your servant, Asiah. I'll retire to my room. Wait. I'm tired. You shall sleep soundly. No, no, no. Draw your sword. No, no, no. Please, I'm not really the king. I'm not the king. I'm an actor. Dick Pinner, Pinner, Pinner is my name. Draw your sword. But I'm just an actor, a poor, out-of-work actor. Believe me, please, believe me. Enough, Ingram. The jest is over. Oh, can't you tell a nave from a king? Look at me, Ingram, look at me. Spare this craven fool clowning for his keep and look at me. Surely you know us, Stuart, when you see one. Look at me. To be sure. Stuart. To be sure. Pinner, slide me your sword quick. Thanks. Ah, see how it is to deal with an armed Stuart for a change. Charles Stuart, I charge you to surrender. Perhaps, Stuart, my men surround the inn. In my service at this inn, I learned a famous recipe for rabbit pie. It goes like this. First, catch the rabbit. And keep a firm grip on your sword. Remember it, Ingram. Long live the king. Robins, fellow, all of you. After him, men, dead or alive. What is the meaning of this? You are the mistress of this inn. What if I am? Where is he? Who? The Englishman who works here. If you mean Charles, my retainer. Where is he? What right have you to invade a Dutch house and hound a hard-working man to death because he is loyal to his king? Don't play the fool with me. He is the king. King? It's plain you're innocent in that matter. But mind you, don't shield the man if you would remain innocent in the matter. What now, Colonel Ingram? It's plain from her manner that Stuart's more than handyman to her. Watch her. She'll lead us to him. You shouldn't have come here. They'll not admit to search around this windmill. Charles, that man with the face like a skull, he told me who you are. And let me tell you in a few moments what I wanted to spend my life telling you. I love you, Katie. Above all things, deeply and gratefully. Gratefully? Why? Because in your love, I've found a few precious moments of shelter. I've learned from you another life than fear and flight and battlefields and parliaments. If I should die, remember that I loved you. Not as King Charles, doubtful monarch of a restless realm, but as Charles' master of his own soul. Charles, look. They're coming. I knew it. Quick. Inside the mill. Here. Against this wall. Hide behind these sacks. Here, close. Ovens guard the door, fellow around the back. I'll mute the Stuart single-handed. He's coming in alone. God be with you, Charles. Charles Stuart. Stuart, how will you die? I give you this chance to face me alone, for I would relish killing you with my own blade. Stuart. I am here. Defend yourself, killer. Rejoice, O England. Thy deliverance is at hand. Oh, well spoken, sir. Do you write your own epitaph? No, you've finished this alone. You and I. You'll die for that vanity. I'll live for my beliefs. And I for mine. Back inquisite earth. What? You give ground to a Stuart? Back, I say, back. Rusty. Rust, Ingram, is the color of old blood. Your crimes are upon you, killer. Up the stairs. Last remark, I say, up. And, godly Stuart. Why? Because I think God made men freeze? Die. Another time, Ingram. Not just now. You must die if England is to live. Right. England will live no matter what happens to either of us. On guard. Killer. Charles, listen. Outside. There's trouble. And surely roundheads do not make trouble for other roundheads. Your Majesty. Your Majesty. Hide. How? What? Are you all right? Yes, I am all right. Oh, thank god you're safe. I bring great news, great news. A new free parliament has, on behalf of all the people of this country, asked you to return to England as their king. Religious freedom for all. Will you leave me alone with Katie for a moment? Your Majesty. I know, Charles. What shall I do? What your heart tells you, your Majesty. Charles knows, Charles. Your Majesty. You are my Charles, but you're their king. And they are so many, and I am one. But if that one is all... Your people are hurt. There are many wounds for you to tend. But what will happen to you? I will have many things to do. I'm going to plant more tulips in the west field bordering the road. And my inn will be famous now. And I shall pay my debts. Katie. And my memories will be my greatest fortune. And mine. And all these memories I'll put like rose leaves in a box. And I shall love you always. Beyond measure, beyond proof. Beyond battle and the folly of nations. Beyond life, where we shall meet again. Charles. Coming. To last forever. Beyond measure. Beyond proof. Beyond battle and the folly of nations. Beyond life. Where we shall meet again. The NBC Theatre has presented the Screen Directors Guild production of The Exile, starring Douglas Fairbanks with Janet Waldo, and introducing the director of the film, Max Opels. Next week, the NBC Theatre brings you the world-famous screen director, Alfred Hitchcock, introducing the delightful comedy, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, with Robert Montgomery in the starring role. And now here again are tonight's stars, Douglas Fairbanks and Janet Waldo, and screen director, Max Opels. Doug, this has been the way you told me the story. Yes, yes, and you said you'd direct the picture. It must have been quite an experience for two such talented artists as yourselves to work together. Yes, there's one of Mr. Fairbanks' accomplishments. I shall never forget. His acting? Sure, and his practical jokes. Why, Max, how can you say such a thing? Well, one day I had a birthday and they bring me such a beautiful cake on the set. But when I tried to cut it, a disaster. Why? It was made out of wood. Very embarrassing. But when Doug brought out a real cake, then we had a nice party. You see, we really loved you after all, Max. So nice. But for your practical jokes, I forgave you when I saw your latest picture, the fighting of Lenny. Did you like it, Max? I'm very glad. It's to be released next month, you know. Yeah, I liked it very much. Ms. Waldo, it's about a dashing, romantic Irishman who does the most amazing things you have ever seen, just to win the lady he loves. That sounds wonderful. Mr. Fairbanks, I understand that besides starring in the fighting of Lenny, you also wrote it and produced it. Well, yes, that's right. But I hope you enjoy it too, Janet. Good night. Good night. Good night, Max. And good night to you, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Janet Waldo, and Max Opel. Tonight's cast included Raymond Burr, Carl Harvard, Paul McVeigh, Joe Grandi, and Lou Krugman. The Exile was adapted for radio by Milton Geiger. Original music was composed and conducted by Henry Russell. Production was under the supervision of Howard Wiley, your announcer, Frank Barton. The Exile was presented through the courtesy of the Fairbanks Company and of Universal International Pictures, now releasing Chris Cross, starring Bert Lancaster, Yvonne Decarlo, and Dan Der Yea. Listen again next week when the NBC Theatre presents... Screen Directors Guild Assignment. Production, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Director, Alfred Hitchcock. Star, Robert Montgomery. This is NBC, the national broadcasting company.