 Vicks presents the Madanay Theatre starring Victor Jauri in the love story of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning. The makers of Vicks' Vapor Rub, Vicks' Vatronol, Vicks' Cough Pops and Vicks' Inhaler brings you the Madanay Theatre starring Victor Jauri and featuring Gertrude Warner in the request performance of the love story of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning. A great many stories have been told about this famous romance, and today it is our pleasure to bring you an original radio play by Gene Holloway based on their lives. A play that we feel will be long remembered by friends of the Madanay Theatre. Here's a good thing to remember when you catch a cold. The best known home remedy for relieving miseries of colds is Vicks' Vapor Rub. Act one of the love story of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning. Every once in a while, this brings to life a love story so beautiful that it becomes the ideal in the essence of all that romance should be. London, the early 19th century, she was a poetess of some prestige, an invalid but still a beautiful enchanting woman. He was dashing, handsome, and at 33 a poet of promise if of modest achievement. Both of them had had books published, and the lady on the couch when the man in his study read each other's poems and were excited by them. And out of sincere mutual admiration, they began to correspond. Tell me again what she looks like, John. Oh, well, she's Paul, very slender, she has black hair. Paul's like a cloud around her shoulders, doesn't it? Uh, well, it's black and it's long, and she's fair skin. Her skin has the texture of rose petals and the touch of her hand is like a sweep of music. Robert, take the advice of an old friend. I'll forget about Elizabeth Barrett. She's an invalid and a recluse, and she has the most disagreeable father has ever been my bad fortune to meet. Now, I can introduce you to a hundred women, all more beautiful and all more desirable. Not to me, John, not to me. I sent a boy over with the letter a little while ago. I wonder if she's reading it now. I wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if this time my answer will be the one I've waited for. What is Mr. Brownie saying this letter, Elizabeth? No, he speaks once more of coming to call, and he implies that perhaps the reason I've not permitted him to come before this is that I'm in some way mistrustful of him. Oh, Elizabeth, I suppose now he must come. Oh, well, if you'd like to write him an answer now telling him to, I could post it when I go to meet Papa. I'll try and have it ready by then. Oh, I'm so glad. You had to meet someday, you know. Yes, we had to meet someday. I know. You're all staring at me, Mr. Brownie. I'm sorry, it's hard enough to. You see, these past few months I've wondered so about you. I've read your poetry and your letters. I've tried to imagine what my lady in the ivory tower was like. I'm afraid I've never thought of this room as an ivory tower. Sometimes it seemed more like a prison. I've had to spend so many hours here on this couch. I'd like to take you away from England. I'd like to take you to Italy where you could lie on the sun. Drink red wine and eat Italian bread and cheese. No time at all you'd be taking long walks in the mountains and attending festivals. I'd take you out day after day in the fishing boats until your skin was brown in your eyes, bright and full of laughter. And every night I'd hire a donkey cart and take you up to the mountains to watch the moon rise. How beautiful it sounds. It's a lovely dream, Mr. Brownie. Shall I tell you something about my dreams, Miss Barrett? Please do. They have a way of coming true. Little bit, my dear, you've forgotten the time. You're already late for your nap. I'm sure Mr. Browning will excuse you. Sorry, I'll go at once. I hope I haven't tired you. Tired me? What do you know, Mr. Browning? I not only feel very wretched, I feel positively sunburned. Then I may come again next Tuesday. If you don't, I shall be most disappointed. Good day, Mr. Browning. Good day, Mr. Browning. Good day, sir. Good day, Miss Barrett. You have a high colour. I trust you aren't feverish, my dear. Not a bit of it. I've just been out in the sun and the wind, that's all. Do you know what I did this afternoon, Papa? No. I stood in the prowl of a little Italian fishing boat and the wind blew back my hair. My heart lifted to meet the wind. But a little while I was away from the swim. I was free of all pain. And I was happier than I'd been in a long time. I didn't know your age and your Greek common sense in Elizabeth. I'd say you were talking like a schoolgirl who'd just lost her heart. What does age and common sense have to do with losing one's heart, Papa? Since you ask me, Elizabeth, I'll put it this way. Browning is on the threshold of his 30s. You are on the threshold of your 40s. The difference between those ages is the difference between youths and middle age. That's what age has to do with it. As for common sense, well, my dear, you are an invalid. As far as life and love are concerned, you must be an onlooker. That is the way God has chosen for you. I'm speaking as though there were something between you and Mr. Browning which is ridiculous to begin with. Yes. Isn't it? Elizabeth, my dear, are you crying? A little. Why? It was so lovely being young, even for a few moments. But it isn't fair. It isn't fair that I should be middle-aged and have had nothing. I want to get out of this room, Papa. I want to know what it's like to run in the sunshine. I want to know what it's like to sit outside in the moonlight as late as I want to. I want to know what it's like to be kissed. Elizabeth, you don't know what you're saying. You're a bit tired and hysterical. You'd better take your nap. No. I'm not tired and I'm not going to take a nap. You know what I'm going to do, Papa? No. I'm going to write a letter to Mr. Browning. I'm Kenyon. I've got something to tell you. John Kenyon! See, see here now, Browning. This is a highly respectable neighborhood and I don't intend to be thrown out of it, so kindly lower your voice. John, old boy, would you mind if I kissed you on the cheek? I most certainly would. Why, why should you want to do a thing like that? You didn't get hit on the head on your way over here, did you? Something like that. I fell in love on the way over here and I owe it all to you. Well, I decline any responsibility at all. Elizabeth Barratt's most enchanting, the most adorable, the most beautiful... Oh, oh, so you did meet her at last, eh? But I'm very sorry to hear you talk that way, Robert. Sorry? Why? Well, for one thing, Edward Barratt has always said that he would never permit any of his daughters to marry. And for another thing, Elizabeth's always been such a poor, sickly creature. And I am sorry that you met. No happiness will ever come of it. You're mistaken, John. I'm going to marry Elizabeth Barratt. And it's going to be the marriage that never was before on land or sea. I knew it from the moment I walked into her room today and I... I think she knew it too. I'm so sure that I'm going to write her a letter right now and tell her exactly how I feel. She's shot up in a castle, now guarded by dragons, but I'll storm the castle and carry her off across my saddle. You're going to write her that? Yes, and she'll understand. She's my lady. She'll understand. Why are you sitting here in the dark, Elizabeth? Shall I light the lamps? If you wish. I've just been sitting here watching the stars and saying goodbye to something, Henrietta. Evidently, my manner with Mr. Bronning last Tuesday was not everything a lady should be because he's written me a most upsetting letter completely lacking in respect and dignity. What does he say? He says he loves me. Well, what more do you want? I want respect and propriety. I'm too old to have a lover of storming at the gates. Oh, Papa was right. It makes me feel quite ridiculous. Oh, Elizabeth, please. Please be kind to Mr. Bronning. Give yourself a chance for happiness. I've written him a note. I'll read you part of it. You do not know what pain you give me in speaking so wildly. You've said some interpret things, fences, which you must not say ever again, but must forget it once and forever. If there should be one word of answer attempted to this or of reference, I must not. I will not see you again. Well, you made rather a fool of yourself, didn't you? Yes, rather. Well, at least it's settled once and for all. Now maybe you'll get down to your own work and forget about Mr. Elizabeth Thariff. Forget her? I told you I was going to marry her. The lady and you seem to have different opinions on that subject. Wrong again. The lady and I are of exactly the same mind. And when she burrows through about 50 layers of convention to her heart, she'll find my name written across it. In the meantime, I'll wait. I will be the polite caller of the solicitous friend. Oh, how that's going to annoy her. Well, it's your heart. Go ahead and break it. I shall answer this little letter of hers by saying that she completely misinterpreted my meaning. I will say that I was thinking of her as a poetess and a famous figure, not a woman. After all, who am I, Robert Browning, to think of her in any other light? And then I shall say that I will call on her on Tuesday next and that I'm obediently hers. And that will do the trick. It is therefore my considered opinion that the situation in English politics today is exceedingly grave and demands much study. Yes, yes, of course. I agree with you implicitly, Mr. Browning. Your letters this past week have certainly been mainly concerned with politics. It's a vital subject. And the one thing that concerns me deeply at the moment... You see, I was quite right, Henrietta. Mr. Browning has had nothing, whatever, of a personal nature to say to me on his recent visits. His professions of love obviously meant very little. But you forbid him to say anything about love. Well, he has a mind of his own, isn't he? I'm very glad I brought him as I did. Very glad indeed. I have a new poem of yours that someone sent me in the mail, Mr. Browning. It's one you haven't shown me. The Lost Mistress. It sounds as though you were a little bitter when you wrote it. I was only as bitter as the lady who inspired it made me. I wish I knew the lady who inspired you, Mr. Browning. Obviously, she holds your heart. Perhaps someday you will meet her, Mr. Barrett. Yes. Yes, I do hope so, Mr. Browning. Mr. Barrett, how wonderful to find you downstairs in the library. You are getting better, aren't you? I'm much better, thanks to you. I might have remained on that couch forever if you hadn't made me go for those drives and then made me start taking walks. You've given me new heart and new life. I'm glad to be able to repay you in some way for the great happiness and friendship you brought me. That friendship will be yours as long as you want it, Mr. Browning. Maybe I've been a conceited fool, John. Just because you hold your arms up for the stars doesn't mean you can reach them, does it? Tonight I think she doesn't love me and tonight I think she never will. Can this be Robert Browning talking? Where's your confidence? Where's your assurance? Out the window, trying to catch up with my heart. I think I shall have to rescue all three. I think I must be off to Italy with them alone. You're going to tell her? Yes, I'm going to write her that tonight. I'll see her only once more to say goodbye. Well, I am sorry, Robert, but it's just as well for you to realize that the whole thing is hopeless. Go to Italy. You'll forget this whole episode in a month or two. No, I won't forget her. I won't ever forget. I shall miss her. All the rest of my life. In just a moment, the second act of the story of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning. April is here today, and with its usual pesky, changeable weather and colds. So don't take needless risks. Remember when a cold strikes that it's foolish to depend on unknown, unfried remedies for a leaving distress, you don't have to, because you have the personal experience of millions of folks to guide you. Just do as they do, and rub Vick's vapor rub on your throat, chest, and back. Then notice how its relief-giving action goes right to work to help relieve upper bronchial congestion and irritation, to ease the coughing spasms, sore throat, and that muscular soreness or tightness. You see, vapor rub so effectively relieves distress of colds because it penetrates, penetrates into the cold congested upper bronchial tubes with its special soothing vapors, and at the same time it stimulates, stimulates chest and back surfaces like a comforting, warming poultice. And this penetrating, stimulating action of vapor rub keeps on working for hours to bring such wonderful relief, and keep this in mind. Only vapor rub gives you this special penetrating stimulating action. It's the best-known home remedy for relieving miseries of colds. Time-tested, home-proved, Vick's vapor rub. Now the second act of the love story of Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning, starring Victor Jory and featuring Gertrude Warner. You haven't been looking very well lately. I think perhaps you're moving about too much. I'm thinking of taking you on a trip to the shore. Perhaps you could stay on your couch and rest if the seer might help you. No, Father. You're not taking me away from Wimple Street. You're forgetting yourself, Elizabeth. You've become very unruly since Mr. Browning has been coming here. I think I shall have to tell him that his presence is no longer welcome. As long as I am under this roof, he is welcome. When he is no longer welcome, I shall leave, too. You have my decision, Elizabeth. And you have mine, Father. Miss Barrett, there's something I must tell you. We may not be meeting for a time. I'm off to Italy in a week or so. Oh, well, well, I shall miss you very much. So that's why you've been so gay this afternoon, as the lady of the poem relented and decided to be kind to you? I'm afraid the lady of the poem is beyond my reach forever. Elizabeth, is there nothing human about you at all? Are you nothing but the statue of a woman, the shell of a woman? Is there no fire to you, no warmth? Have you no heart at all? I have enough of a heart to be hurt. I have that much heart. What have you? I doubt it. Elizabeth, that first time when I walked into your room and you smiled at me, something inside me kindled into flame, and I knew with the sureness beyond all doubt that you and I were meant to be together, I tried to tell you that. But your prim, corseted little mind wouldn't listen. You were offended, dropped, insulted. I should have taken my warning from that. I should never have come to this house again, but I hoped that you would come to realize and feel the same thing that I was feeling. Well, obviously, I expected too much. That's what you want to be, a pretty influence sitting by a window, waiting to die. You must hate me to be able to speak like that. There doesn't seem to be much for me to say, Mr. Browning. Good day, Mr. Barrow. Good day, Mr. Browning. Well, Elizabeth, still crying, I see. Perhaps you'll realize now that I know what's best for you. You've made a pretty fool of yourself. You should be crying. That's not why I'm crying. I'm crying because I'm lonely. I'm crying because of a lot of things I didn't say. Father, what shall I do? What can I do? You can return to your couch, to your books, to your tranquillity. Now, if you come to your senses, you'll be all right. I'm going to take you to the country where you can rest. You need the peace of solitude. You need to become again the daughter I've always protected and cherished. You've forgotten these past few weeks how much of an invalid you are. Yes. Yes, I had forgotten. Father, I was in love with Mr. Browning. It was rather life-sensitive for a woman of your age, wasn't it, Elizabeth? Perhaps. But I never thought of being older when I was with him. I think heaven, you're over those adolescent scenes now. They're hardly becoming to anyone so close to 40. We have peace and order in the house again. You know now what you must do. Don't you, Elizabeth? Yes. Yes, I do know now what I must do, Father. At last I know what I must do. Hand me those shirts, will you, John? Oh, yes. Here you are. Well, that's a mighty efficient job of packing you're doing, old man. I wish I were going with you. Come along. Well, maybe I shall run over late in the summer. Oh, well, what you aren't done with is packet of letters. Throw them in the fireplace. No. No. Throw them in the trunk. My first idea was better. Why take your memories along with you? They're all I have. I don't want to read them now or for a long time to come, but one day I will want to read them. One day a long time from now when the scars don't burn anymore, when I can take them out and read them carelessly and say these were written by Elizabeth Barrett. She had almost everything a woman could have. Beauty, wit, charm, intelligence. She had no heart. Or at any rate, she had no heart for me. I'd rather... I'd rather she hated me than have her merely like me. Ah, Robert, Robert, I wish I knew what it was about Elizabeth that is so completely enthralled. I'm sure I can't say it. I don't know exactly for it is myself except that after being with her all other women are colorless. The hours that I'm with her go by like seconds and the hours I'm waiting to be with her are snail-paced eternities. With one sentence she can make me happier than I've ever been. With the next she can hurt me more cruelly than I've ever been hurt. Without ever knowing that she's given me a new awareness of life why when I see people walking hand in hand through the starlight my heart twists a little inside of me and I want to go up to them and say how fortunate you are to have found each other. I can't forget her for a single second no matter where I am or who I'm with. I both hate her and love her so much and then stops and the other begins. See what it is, will you John? I want to finish up here. No, right. Elizabeth. Hello John, is Robert here? Yes, come in. Elizabeth, come in. Sit down, that chair is the most comfortable, sit there. Yes. Well, if you two don't mind I must be running along. It is sudden engagement I just remembered. You know, my tailor, goodbye. Goodbye John. Let me take your wrap. I'm all right. Robert, I came because I had to speak to you before you left and considering the manner of our parting I didn't think you'd be calling again at Wimbledon Street. I am of course very glad to see you, that goes without saying. When are you leaving? Next week. Robert, I may never see you again and since I may never see you again I felt, I feel that I must be honest with you as you've been honest with me after you had gone that very first day we met I, I sat for hours writing a letter I was meant to destroy it because I'd not written it with any idea of letting you see it because now I want you to see it because it's an honest letter which the one I sent you wasn't. Shall I read it now? Yes, read it now. My dearest one I, who have never written a love letter I'm writing my first you're gone now and yet my room is full of you I see everywhere I turn seems that all my life my heart has asked a question and now at last I know the answer I've always been a cold thing, a poor excuse for a woman and yet I believe that if you would but take my hand I could follow you anywhere and be all things to you Oh Elizabeth Elizabeth Robert I don't know if you can forgive me for not giving you this or telling you long ago but you see no one ever loved me before and it's human nature to mistrust dreams that come true too suddenly My dear you will marry me, you'll go to Italy with me I'll go with you Robert to Italy or to the ends of the world Are you ready to go next week? I don't know, that's so soon We can't be separated again there's no telling what your father would do No, we can't be separated again Robert I will arrange to leave the house early Monday morning with my maid if you will make the arrangement perhaps we can marry sometime before noon Elizabeth, you're everything I've ever wanted on earth Darling you're everything I've ever wanted in heaven I'm going for a walk, papa You don't walk too far my dear and take it slowly Father, come here let me kiss you goodbye we'll miss one another you and I I shall be here when you return Elizabeth you know my dear you're looking exceptionally attractive young today I am young today father I am young today goodbye father goodbye Mrs. Browning this is the beginning of the world for us yes my darling the beginning of the world in just a moment an important message from Victor Jory but first friends listen to this melody yes? that's the beautiful signature many of you probably heard an hour and a half ago over another network each Sunday it raises the curtain on the thrilling and inspiring music of the Stradivari Orchestra presented by Prince Machiavelli creator of Stradivari Perfume there is no other orchestra like it because it's violins that give such eloquent new beauty to every melody are genuine Stradivari violins each one worth a king's ransom well, two weeks from today on April 15th this popular Stradivari orchestra conducted by Paul Laval moves into this time to bring you 30 minutes of soul-stirring romantic music you know and love so remember you have a wonderful date on April 15th at this hour over this network with the famous Stradivari Orchestra be sure to keep it this is Victor Jory I explained last Sunday next week April 8th marks the closing performance of the season for Vicks and after that, at this time each Sunday I know you're going to enjoy the Stradivari Orchestra but speaking for the Matinee Theater I want to thank Vicks and I want to thank each and every one of the thousands who have written asking that we return to the air as soon as possible many of your letters contain signatures of the whole family others the names of entire school groups factory workers and so forth it was really very, very gratifying it's up to you if you've enjoyed our plays, write write it once if you'd like me to bring Vicks Matinee Theater or rather the Matinee Theater Productions back to the air quickly perhaps even this summer write and tell me about it now address me, care of Columbia Broadcasting New York 22, New York, may I repeat that write me Victor Jory care of Columbia Broadcasting New York 22, New York thank you be sure to tell your friends to listen again next Sunday when we hope to bring you the outstanding production of the season in the meantime, a happy Easter our original radio play today was written by Gene Holloway and was directed by Richard Sanville music for this series is under the direction of Mark Warner be sure to be with us next week when Vicks, the makers of Vicks Vaternall Vicks Coff Drops and Vicks Inhaler brings you another great Matinee Theater Production starring Victor Jory this is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System