 Lux presents Hollywood. The Lux Radio Theater brings you Tyrone Power and Annabella in blood and sand. Ladies and gentlemen, your producer, Mr. Cecil B. DeMille. Greetings from Hollywood, ladies and gentlemen. In Brooklyn, it's baseball. In Spain, it's ball fighting. And ball fighting inspires the same fierce passion in every true Spaniard that baseball inspires only in a fan from Brooklyn. Though one of the most popular matadors of modern times was born in Brooklyn. But the fact that a matador flirts with death at every pass of his cape makes the Bull Ring the most dramatic arena in the world. And the most dramatic story of the Bull Ring is tonight's play, Blood and Sand. Twice in the memory of most of us, Blood and Sand packed the motion picture theaters of the nation. The first time, the star was a young man named Rudolph Valentino. A few months ago when 20th Century Fox made the picture again, Tyrone Power threw the matadors' cape about his shoulders. And once more, audiences thrilled to this tempestuous drama of life by night and death in the afternoon. Tyrone Power is our star tonight. And with him we present the lovely and charming Annabella. This is a love story. The love story of a boy who fights his way from obscurity to fame to a girl whose loyalty never wavers when gold and glory throw a shadow over love. If you saw Blood and Sand on the screen, you'll remember its dramatic use of color. Color is always box office, on screen or off. And where color is concerned, so is luck's flakes. In filming Reap the Wild Wind recently, I had a company down in Charleston, South Carolina where the townspeople obligingly turned back the clock for us about a hundred years. We had the costumes, and they wore them in front of the camera. Costumes of the gayest, most elegant days of the old south. Lovely, but a problem. For costumes do get soiled, and washable color had to be kept fresh for technicolor cameras. But our problem was easily solved with luck's flakes. And to give you a rough idea of the size of the job, during Reap the Wild Wind, we used more than a thousand large boxes of luck's flakes. An item for the budget, of course, but we actually saved money by guarding the color values of the costumes. And now for the romance and excitement of Spain, as the curtain rises on the first act of Blood and Sand, sowing tyron power as Juan Gallardo and Annabella as Carmen. In the town of Sevilla some thirty years ago, a Spanish boy prayed to La Macarena, patron saint of the bullfighter. It was a strange sort of prayer, half entreating, half boastful. My father was Il Gallardo. My father was a great killer of bulls. And I am his son Juan Gallardo. Someday I too will be a great killer of bulls, for the bull who can harm me has never been born. Someday I will be the first Matador of all Spain. I will make the church bells ring, and the people shall point me out and call my name Juan Gallardo. Juan Gallardo, the greatest torero in the world. From poverty and hunger in Sevilla, the young Gallardo went out into the world. In the bull rings of Madrid he learned his trade. In the outlying provinces he practiced it. Until at last his name is mentioned in an article by the great critic Coro, mentioned with contempt. And here is Juan Gallardo, a newcomer of flat-footed Noviaro from Sevilla, taking money under false pretenses. He has nothing to recommend him but a certain stupid animal courage that makes his work in the ring look more like suicide than battle. He is definitely a fifth rate. Now young Gallardo is returning to Sevilla. With his four companions of the bull ring, he sits in the crowded coach looking at a newspaper. But he looks only at the pictures. For Juan Gallardo has never learned to read. Suddenly he sees his own face. A picture of himself, smiling with rivado, hair curled in the best tradition of the bullfighter, dressed in the loudest of cheap clothing. With a cry he jumps from his seat. Manolo, Pulga, Pablo, come here quick. What's the matter? Pablo, look, the newspaper. There's my picture in the newspaper. Let me see Juan. What does it say? It's your picture, no doubt of it. It looks just like you, Juan. Yes, and look there. That must be my name. There's something written underneath. Read it to me, Pablo. Read it. Read it? You know I can't read Juan any more than you can. I've got to know what it says. Hey, you, you over there. You mean me, senor? Yes, you. Come here. You know how to read? Oh, yes, senor. Good. Now read that. Below that picture there. Read it to me. Well, this is an article by the great critic, Kuro. Kuro? Now what does he say? Well, in it he praises the merits of valour. He praises the merits of various novieros, including Juan Gallardo. Juan Gallardo? That's me. Now what does he say about me? Well, he says... Read it. Oh, yes, senor. He says easily the most promising of the season's newcomers is Juan Gallardo, the Sevilla Noviero. Ah, good. Go on. Oh, well, he says his work in the ring is classic, perfect, full fighting of an absolute integrity. Sevilla should be proud of its son, whose name will one day cover it with undying luster. Amigo, I thank you. Senor, don't mention it. Don't mention it, senor. Well, my friends, did you hear that? What do you think, Pablo? The sun comes at last from behind the clouds. I tell you, praise from Kuro's belt contract. This is the beginning of history. Hey, Manolo. Why? After all, it's only one man's opinion. What's wrong, Manolo? Praise from Kuro doesn't please you, eh? I didn't hear my name mentioned, or populars or pulchers of colors, for that matter. We work too, you know. Of course, we're only the quadrilla. For ten years we've worked with you, and what has it brought us? My pockets are empty. Mine aren't. But then you don't make as much as I do. Your pockets are bulging with Mercedes right now. Four thousand to be exact. Not a bad season, Manolo. Someday I'll make twice as much in one afternoon. Sevilla! Sevilla! Juan, we're here. Sevilla, I get the luggage. Juan, look out there. What's all that crowd? It's an ovation. An ovation for me? And the news has spread to Sevilla. Come on. Juan, you'll have to make a speech. I can't. What'll I say? Whatever comes to you. Here he is, friends. The great Juan Gallardo. Thank you. Thank you, my friends. I don't know what to say except... Hey, hey, where are you going? Here he is. The great Juan Gallardo. The greatest torero of... Come back! Pablo, stop. The crowd doesn't seem very interested, Juan. Not in you, anyway. Somebody near the coach. See? Well, maybe they haven't seen the paper yet, eh? Come on, Pablo. Juanillo! It's your mother Juan. Juanillo, mio. Oh, Madresita. Juanillo, mio. Let me see you. It has been so long. I told you I'd come back, Madresita. Rich and famous. Look at me. Let me touch your face. From now on it's a new life, Madresita. No more work for you. No more scrubbing of floors. Juanillo. Pablo, give me that package. That one. Juanillo, mio. Here, Madresita. I brought something for you. A little present. I have presents for everyone. I want you to invite all my old friends tonight. A party in my honor. We'll get food and wine and... Oh, here. Here, Madresita. For you. Oh, Juanillo. Yes. It's a mantilla. Real lace. Real lace. For me. And why not? All the great ladies have lace mantillas. Juanillo. What have we got here? The two longest faces in Spain. Why aren't you two dancing? Your sister will not dance one. Why not? And Canación, why don't you dance with Antonio? I don't feel like dancing. What's wrong? Antonio, you tell me. Your sister and I have been engaged now for four years. Each year we've been planning to get married. And now we should be married. That's all right. What's stopping you? Antonio has been let out of the saddlery shop. How much will it take to open a shop of your own, Antonio? Well, I should say, well, not less than 2,000 pesetas. It's all settled. You're in business. I mean, will you mean you will? Of course. It's a wedding present. And I hope the first one's a boy. Oh, Juanillo. Juanillo, I can't thank you. I'll make an announcement. Oh, yes. Stop the music. Stop the music there. Señores, señores. I have an important announcement to make. The marriage of my sister and Canación to Antonio López, which will take place as soon as possible. And in honor of this occasion, I wish to present a few gifts I have brought for Madrid. Here's one for Lorenzo Rodriguez. Angelina Marcos. Mayarda. Elena. Fernando. Mateo. Enrique. Humberto. And that's all. No, there's one more package. Who is that for? No, no, no, no. Please. I'm sorry, but this last gift is a secret. It's for somebody who's not here yet. Music there. Music. Oh, yes. Music. Juanillo. Yes, madrecita? The last gift. The great secret. Who is it for? I can't tell even you, madrecita. Then I will tell you. If it is for Carmen Espinosa, she still lives at the ranch outside the town. Ah, thank you, madrecita. Good night. Don't be too late, Juanillo. Music. Excuse me, señor. I'm in a hurry just now, my friend. Please. Just a word. I've had the devil's own time lately. A few centimos, señor. Anything at all, anything. Come over here to the light. I thought I recognized you. You are Garabato. Correct, amigo. The great Garabato, the greatest matador of them all. I regret to say I'm still alive. I thought you retired. Go on to the country and bought a ranch. I left the ring as I came into it. Without a centimo. You remember me? Juan Gallardo. I live here. Gallardo. Of course. You are in the ring now, too. I think it's been going good for you. Oh, I've had a good season. I look forward to a better one. I suppose your quadri... Yes, it's full up just now. But I've had a lot of experience. My whole life's been spent in the ring. I know all the critics. I'm sorry. Then perhaps you could use a servant, a sword handler, a dresser. Very well. Why not? Come and see me in the morning, señor. Here. Get some food. Oh, señor. I thank you. I kiss your hands, señor. Good night, Garabato. In the morning. In the morning. Thank you, señor. Carmen. Come to the window. Carmen. Carmen. It's Juan. It's Juan Gallardo. Carmen, Sita. You're here. You've come back at last. Oh, Juan. Didn't I tell you I would? Didn't I promise? And you promised something, too. To wait for you, I remember. All the way on the train from Madrid, I kept thinking and worrying. Perhaps she's tired waiting. Oh, no. Perhaps she's gone away. Oh, no, no. Perhaps she's even forgotten me. Oh, you couldn't possibly think that. I even thought. Do you know the very first thing I asked my mother when I got home? Pedro Espinosa's little girl, I said, with the skinny legs and the funny face. Has she by any chance been married yet? I can't get over it. I never dreamed you'd grow up to be so very nice to look at. Did you think of me often? Every day of my life. Why did you never write to me? Write? Well, I am. Maybe it's silly, but I didn't want to write until I could sign my first letter to you. Juan Gallardo Matador de Tolos. Oh, then you are not the great Matador yet. No, no, but I've done pretty well. Not bad at all. Guess what I cleared this season? Over 4,000 pesetas. 4,000? And that's nothing to what I'll make later when I've been recognized. Not that I've been entirely overlooked now, mind you. Not at all. Let's take a look at that. My first press notice. And by Kuro, mind you. Kuro? The greatest critic of them all. Pretty nice, don't you think? Juan, have you read this? Of course. And you like it? I think it's wonderful. And by Kuro, read it. I have read it. No, read it aloud. Juan, I know why you never wrote to me. It's because you haven't learned to write or read. Is that it? Read what it says. What for? I just... Read it. Very well. And here is a newcomer. A flat-footed novel hero from Sevilla. Taking money under false pretenses. What? Go on. He... He has nothing to recommend him but a certain stupid animal courage which makes his work in the ring look more like suicide than battle. He is... Juan. Juan. When will we be married? There's more. Read it. He is definitely fifth rate. Juan. When will we be married? Read the rest. I want to hear the rest. It's useless to predict the future for him. He will probably be killed in the ring long before he advances from another hero to Matador. Juan Nio... All right. I guess I came back a little too early. Give me the clipping. Juan Nio. Why don't you throw it away and forget about it? No, no, no. I'll keep it. And someday I'll make Koro eat his words. Someday I'll come back to you with a whole trunk full of clippings. And when you marry me, you'll marry the first to Rero in Spain. Not the second or the third, but the first, the greatest. I'll make the church bells ring for me. I'll go now, Carmen. Juan Nio. What's in the package there? Oh, it's... it's nothing. What is it, Juan Nio? No, it's just something I... I thought I was going... Oh, going to me? Let me see. No, no, Carmen. Don't open it, please. It's... it's nothing really. I want to see it. But I tell you, it's nothing at all. Juan Nio. It's a dress. A wedding dress. Oh, how beautiful it is. How beautiful it is. I got it in the finest shop in Madrid. I want the best wedding dress you have. Price is no object, I told them. It cost 500 per se. Juan Nio, when will we be married? Gallardo. Have you seen him in the ring? Wonderful. He's just an over-hero yet, but everyone is saying... One Gallardo. One Gallardo. Everyone's talking about one Gallardo. In Salamanca last week, they went mad. One Gallardo, the most promising matador of the century. We predict a brilliant future. One Gallardo. One Gallardo. One Gallardo. One Gallardo. No one can see Gallardo now. He's being dressed for the ring. You'll see him when he comes out. Just open the door, just a little bit. No, get back. What is he going to wear today? Signora, I'm his brother-in-law, not his personal dresser. He has 100 different costumes for the ring. 100 swords, 100 capes. What is it like in there, Antonio? My friend, it is like an emperor holding court. Gallardo sits on his throne being dressed. And in front of him, all the critics in Sevilla. Curo is there. Curo, the greatest of them all. Sevilla has a matador. The first matador in Spain. A saint. The first man of the world. I, Curo, say it. Thank you, Signora Curo. And I, Curo, tell you this. When Gallardo here was born, there was salt in the air. A great quantity of salt. You should have seen him at the Corridor of the Feast of the Anuncia Theon. He was so near the bull. Next day, Garabato spent hours picking the bull's hairs out of Juan's clothes. I, Curo, tell you that I could not believe my own eyes. But you did believe them, Curo. The day you saw me fight as a novillero in Madrid. In Madrid? Three years ago. You wrote a piece in the paper about me. My first press notice. Really? Yes. You said I was definitely fifth rate. Oh. Oh, yes, yes. I remember. But the next time I saw you in the ring, you were a different man. Something must have happened to you. Yes. Something did happen. I got married. Ah, he got married. Yes. Those were the lean days. When I fought both bulls and hunger at the same time. Curo, have you ever been hungry? Never. But I've frequently been thirsty. I can tell you this. A gore of hunger is worse than the horns of a bull. My friends have said to me, Juanillo, life's been very magnificent to you. How does it feel way up there on top of the ladder? And I think of all the good things that have come to me. And there's one thing that stands out above everything else. I can buy all the food my belly can hold. And all my friends' bellies. And I don't have to ask the price of anything anymore. Juanillo. What is it, Pablo? Juanillo, I am ready for the grave. I've just come from the drawing of the bulls. We drew a couple of the meanest looking beasts I've ever seen. Sluggish, treacherous. What difference? A bull's a bull. They're all alike to Juanillo. All safe. Señor Curo, there's no such thing as a safe bull. Juanillo, these two are monsters with lightning in their horns. The cow has not been born yet that can give birth to the bull that can hurt me. Nevertheless, I think you should rest before this fight. An excellent idea. We'd better be going, gentlemen. Good luck, Juanillo. Thank you. Goodbye. Thank you. Garabato. Yes? Yes. It's hot in here. Yes. One always sweats the big drop in the morning of an afternoon. They used to crowd into my room too when I was dressing like a funeral before one's dead. Garabato. I wouldn't admit this to anybody else in the world, but always when I'm dressing like this, there's a feel of rust in my throat. A taste of death. Fear. But it's gone when I step into the arena. The minute I hear the music and the yell of the crowd, everything's all right again. Yes, I know. It was always that way with me. I've been waiting for you. That's all Garabato. Sí, señor. Well, Juanillo, how do you feel today? Good as bread. And you? I wish it were this time tomorrow. Carmencita, you've got to learn not to worry. Please, let me worry just a little. It makes me feel better. You wouldn't worry if you could have heard what Curo just said about me. At last, Sevilla has a matador, he said. Where's my montera? Here it is. The greatest matador in history, Curo said. The first man of the world. That makes you the first lady. There. How do I look? Look in the mirror. You're my mirror. How do I look? Like a little boy, all dressed up for a party. Somehow I feel it'll be a great afternoon. I wish you could be there with me. I'm always with you, Juan. Carmen, what do you do with yourself? What do you do with yourself when I'm in the ring? First, I pray to la Macarena. I pray to keep you safe from harm. Oh, Carmencita. Then I go and sit by the window and count the seconds. Every one is an hour. When the sun begins to go down, I look up the street and there is no one. So I stop breathing. And then the sun goes down and it's dark and my heart stops beating. And then I hear cheers and I see people running and I know it's one, one coming home. My breath comes back and my heart stops beating again like a drum. You're the only true one in the world. Kiss me, Juanillo. Now go. La Macarena. Lady of hope. Bring him back to me. Please. Bring my Juanillo back to me. In just a moment, Mr. DeMille will bring our stars to her own power and Annabella back to the microphone for act two of Blood and Sand. Now we have a special announcement for women who like to save money. The record-breaking offer that makes thrifty lux flakes thriftier than ever. A bargain that you can't afford to miss. Listen to this. Now, for a limited time only, you can get a big box of lux flakes for just 15 cents. Just ask your dealer for the two-package lux flakes thrift offer, which is one big box for only 15 cents when you buy one at the usual price. Think of it. Two big boxes of lux flakes at a special low price, which makes it thriftier than ever for you to use new quick lux for all your fine laundry. And dishes, too. There is only a limited supply of this special thrift offer available and most dealers are featuring it. An attractive bargain price. Every woman loves a bargain, especially at this time when prices on many items are advancing, so you can be sure the limited amount of this special offer will be sold out quickly. First thing tomorrow, go to your dealer and get your two-package thrift offer of lux flakes. One big box for only 15 cents, one box at the usual price. Now, our producer, Mr. DeMille, acts, too, of blood and sand, starring Tyrone Power as Juan Gallardo and Annabella as Carmen. Just off the arena is a tiny chapel where the Matadors come to pray before entering the ring. Juan Gallardo is there, kneeling. His head bowed, his lips moving silently. The anti-rum of the chapel is lined with people, gathered to steal a glance at the great Matador. Among them is the critic Coral and a woman, a woman called Donia Sol de Mura. Ah, you're lucky to be here, Donia Sol. I, Coral, tell you that this afternoon you'll see history made. Really? And what am I to see that is so wonderful? Since you've been away, Donia Sol, a new star has risen. His name is Juan Gallardo. Gallardo? I think I've heard the name. I should like to meet him. Make room, please. A Gallardo is coming out. Juan. Juanillo, here. Donia Sol, permit me to present the great Gallardo. Senora. I have been promised something unforgettable this afternoon, Juan Gallardo. I'm sure you will not disappoint me. I'll try not to, Senora. Good luck, Juan Gallardo. Beautiful, isn't she? What did you say her name was? Donia Sol de Mura. Very rich. Ah, the things I could tell you of that one, Juanillo. The bull ring is death in the afternoon. She is death in the evening. Juanillo, you're waiting. I'm ready, Pablo. Bullfighting? Most of the time, I dream of you. Kiss me. Juanillo. Where are the newspapers? I'll go get them in a moment. They were wonderful. Also, Villa is running with your name this morning. Now, eat your breakfast. I'm hungry. To whom did you dedicate the bull? Oh, some gachi. Who? I don't know. I never saw her before. Then why did you dedicate it to her? Well, she was with a party of swells. It pays to be in with those kind of people. She threw me some flowers. I hate her. Was she pretty? Not bad. Prettier than me? That's impossible. I don't hate her anymore. Do you know you came home last night without your montera? Oh, did I? What became of it? I must have left it at the cafe. Come in. Oh, I'll get about home. A message who just came with this note for you. Oh, give it to me. And go get the newspapers. See you, senor. Here, Carmen. You read it for me. You sure you want me to? I can't read it myself. Who is it from? Dona Sol de Mura. Oh, what does it say? Senor Juan Gallardo Matador de Torres. Thank you for dedicating the first bull to me yesterday. If you want back the montera, you threw me. You may have it by calling for it tonight at eight. The address is number four, Plaza de Alfaro. Your montera. Oh, yes. Yes, now it comes back to me. I threw the gachi in my hat, and she refused to part with it. And she seems willing now. She thinks I'm going to call for it. She'll grow old waiting. Why shouldn't you call for it? She must be somebody of importance. She lives in the Plaza de Alfaro. What does she look like? Oh, I don't remember. Just a woman. Well, if she's just a woman, then why don't you want to go? Don't argue about it. I'm not going. You're not? I'm glad. Glad. But you were just saying... As long as you don't want to go, you can go. Umberto, more wine for Senor Gallardo. It's very good wine, Daniel Sol. Thank you. Tell me, what kind of soup was that we had? Turtle soup. Have you never eaten turtle soup before? Never. It tastes good, but not as good as gazpacho. Ever eat that, Captain Martinez? No, I don't think so. I was raised on it. Really? How is it made? Well, you take biscuit, oil, vinegar, onions and garlic. You take crumbs of bread and fry them in a pan. You throw them all in a pot, gazpacho. Sounds lovely. Now, try it sometime. I will. Don't your soul likes to try everything once? Yes, Vicente. If I were a man, I'd try bullfighting. There's nothing more exciting. It's like a dance, a lovely dance. Most intricate. And death so near. This is fine. Don't your soul. What is it? Pheasant. I could eat a dozen of them. When I retire, I'll raise pheasants and bulls. Senor, may I ask what brand of perfume you use? I forget the name, Captain, but it's the most expensive there is. Certainly the strongest. But since you spend most of your time with horses and bulls... I like the smell of horses and bulls, Vicente. Yes, so I see. Well, if we're going to hear Galle, we'd better be starting. Senor Gallardo, I hope you'll join us. Where are you going? Tito Galle, a friend of Dona's Souls, is giving a concert. I have an extra ticket if you'd care to go. Thank you, not me. I'm afraid I'll have to beg out too. One of my nasty headaches. Good night, my dear. I hope you feel better soon. Thank you. Please explain to Tito. Please understand. Of course he will. We all do. I'll say good night, too. Oh, no. You mustn't leave me, Senor Gallardo. Wait for me on the terrace. Very well. Good night, Captain Martinez. Good night. I'm so sorry about your headache, Dona's Soul. I'm sure you'll take something for it, won't you? Yes, of course, Vicente. Well, good night. Or is it goodbye? Vicente, why do you say that? In the army, we learn many signal calls, including retreat. Here, you may want your ring back? Thank you, Vicente. Goodbye. Goodbye. Senor Gallardo. I'm out here. How's your headache? Better, thank you. Please sit down. Thank you. I must say, Senora, that was the best dinner I've ever eaten. It's the least I can give you for an afternoon of great emotion. You followed your star yesterday. You were inspired. Who wouldn't be inspired? I had seen you. I wasn't bad, though, was I? Mm-hmm. Would you like to play chess? Oh, thanks, no. I'm much too comfortable. Matter of fact, I don't know how to play chess. Matter of fact, I'm the most ignorant man in the world, except with bulls. I'm glad you decided not to go to that concert. So am I. Perhaps... perhaps we can have a concert of our own. Oh, you play something? The guitar, a little. You like music? Some music, yes. The first music I remember was the clanging of the bells that hung from the necks of the cabestros that led the herd. I used to like the singing of the vaqueros on the ranch of your uncle, the Marquis. And I like the music of the gypsies at the Café La Veronica. Mmm, the gypsies. Yes, I like their love songs. Only a gypsy knows how to play a love song. Carmen! Carmen, where are you? Juan, I've been so worried. Oh, Chiquita, I brought something for you. A necklace. Look. Juanillo. Do you like it? Juanillo, I can tell you how beautiful it is. It's too gorgeous for words. I looked all over Sevilla for it. I wanted to give you something especially fine. The best that money could buy. But why? What's happened? Why did you get this for me? Because, Carida, because you're the only true one in the world. Gallardo lately, he's falling off. A month ago, he was the greatest. And last Sunday, like another year. He's not the same. He doesn't work. All he thinks of is clothes and good manners. Good manners? What does a bullfighter need with good manners? What happens to a martador? One day he is great and the next day nothing. Are you talking of Gallardo? My friend, I, Coro, tell you that Gallardo's tower is waning. Why, he'll not even leave Sevilla anymore. Why? Why? Ask Donya's soul. Oh, a good race, Juanillo. You ride like the wind on your soul. But you always catch me. What are you thinking of? Nothing. I don't know. When I'm with you, I forget everything else. When I'm not with you, I can't think of anything else. What did you think the first time you saw me? The first time I saw you, I thought to myself, this is why it's great to fight bulls so that she can be amused. And the next time? The next time? I thought of the roses in the garden of the Alcáthor. Not as if you had them on, but as if they were flowing in your veins. I can't express myself very well. You're learning, Juanillo. You're learning. Don't be here, Juanillo. No matter with Juan, I'm his sister and I know. And you are his wife and you know nothing. I don't want to discuss it. If you want to know why he spends all his time at the Plaza Alfaro, it's because he has nothing to keep him at home. Maybe if you'd give him a son or two. Encarnación. Be quiet. You have no right to say such things. Let her speak, Madrecita. She can say anything she likes about me. But I won't hear a word against Juan. Not a word. If he'd only take my advice, you think he'd have some gratitude after all I've done for him. Andress, what have you done for him, Juanillo? What's he done for me? Nothing. He set you up in business. He lets you live in his house. Who says it's his house? He and his fine gestures. Buys a house and doesn't pay for it. Mark my words, one fine morning will all be thrown out. He's no good in the ring anymore. Afraid of a scratch. It might interfere with his evenings. He neglects his family. His friends make us spectacle of himself. A lazy, grunk and worthless... Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! You unfit to mention his name. You, he gave you everything you have. You and your children. And behind his back, you sneer at him and criticize him. Pick at him like Vulture. Get out of my sight! Get out of quickly, she's mad! I cannot stand it, Mother Sita. I cannot stand it anymore. Carmen Sita. I can't stand anymore in this house. I'm going away. No, Carmen Sita. You will stay no matter what. You will stay with Juan until the end. The end? Carmen, tell me. All those days when Juan goes to the ring, to whom do you pray? To our Lady of Hope, La Macarena. What do you ask, La Macarena? Ask her to plead with God, to watch over our Juan, to keep him safe from any hurt. So I used to pray. But now I pray for something different. What do you ask for? I pray to God to let my son be gored in the ring. No! Not to die, but to be hurt. Who, Mother Sita? So he may cheat the end which every Torero meets. That's what I pray for. And I pray to him not to send you a son. For he will only grow up to torment you and let you die every Sunday afternoon. Just as you are dying now. Mother Sita. Mother Sita. Dear Lady of Hope, please watch over my husband Juan. And if you see fit, Dear Lady. Lace in his heart a wish to retire from the bull reign. And one thing more, Macarena. And this is what I really came to see you about. I... I don't want to hurt Juan, but I've got to do something. I can't go on living like this. Dear Macarena, help me. Please, help me. Tell me what to do about that woman. Station identification. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. After a brief intermission, Mr. DeMille presents Tyrone Power and Annabella in Act 3 of Blood and Sand. Well, it's getting on toward the end of October. Moving Day is just an unpleasant memory. The curtains are up in the new home and books are back on the shelves. And all over America there are women settling into the new life of a new community. Some, and I wonder how many, find it disappointing and difficult, wondering why people just don't seem to be as friendly as they might be. Well, it's natural perhaps to put the blame on others. But how often are these unfriendly neighbors thinking things like this? Too bad about that nice little woman who's moved in next door. She seems so attractive, too. I'd like to be more friendly, but really. Well, it's her own fault, but then I don't suppose she realizes what's wrong. That's the unfortunate part of it, Sally. We just don't realize when we ourselves offend. That's why it's so foolish to take any chances with something as important as daintiness. You see, the things we wear, under things particularly, absorb perspiration. Unless we take care to luxe under things after every wearing, dresses, blouses and sweaters often, well, how can anyone be sure of freshness? Yes, that daily luxe care is a thing no wise girl neglects. It's easy because new quick luxe is so fast. It's safe care for pretty washables because luxe flakes are so gentle. Have no harmful alkali to fade colors or injure fabrics. It's thrifty, too, because a little luxe goes so far. Gives you so many rich suds from just a few flakes. And it's care experts advise. More makers of fine washables advise luxe flakes than advise all other soaps put together. So, to keep washables new looking longer, to guard daintiness, too, stick to America's favorite care for nice things, new quick luxe flakes. Now, Mr. DeMille returns to the microphone. Curtain rises on the third act of blood and sand. The star of one gariado is waning fast, and the great terraria who made the church bell's ring is pointed at with scorn and laughter. In desperation, Carmen has come to plead with a woman, donya soul. They stand facing each other quietly. Donya soul is smiling. Do be seated, senora gariado. Is there anything I can offer you? Yes. My husband. Please believe me. I came here without anger. I'm not here to judge. I can understand you're being interested in my husband. He's the first man in Spain, and naturally all women run after him. Naturally. I understand he's interested in you, too, especially now when I look at you and see how beautiful you are. Thank you. Perhaps it's my fault. Perhaps if I were more beautiful, more educated and of a better family. I know of your family. Your father works for my uncle, I believe, on the ranch. Yes. All my life I've heard about you. What have you heard? Shall I be frank? Please. I've heard you've been all over the world, that you speak many languages, and known many men. I've had only one man. Maybe that's why I want so much to keep him. Tell me, have you discussed this matter with one? No. Why not? It would hurt him. Just a minute, please. Aha, Dora. Yes? Come here. In a moment. Run when I call you here. Run. I always run when you call. Yet... Carmen. Why don't you say some things in your life? I feel sorry for her. Why did you have to do that? Quiet! Garabato! Garabato is not here. Would you have your breakfast now, my son? Good morning, little mother. Good afternoon, my son. Where's Garabato? He's gone. Gone? You let him go last night, don't you remember? Oh yes, we had an argument. Something he did. What was it? He asked for his wages. You haven't paid him in months and he had an offer for Manolo. Manolo? The great Matador Manolo, a member of my quadrilla. No more, my son. Pablo is the only one left. I picked Garabato out of the gutter when he was a beggar and nobody else would have him. And now he's gone. Why wasn't he paid? Why didn't Antonio attend to him? I don't know. The only people who come to the house these days are tradesmen with unpaid bills. I don't understand it. The more money I make, the less I seem to have it. It melts away before I ever see it. Yes. You can't build on sand, my son. Mother Isita, is there any word from Carmen? She's still at the ranch. I saw her last week. You saw her? Why didn't you tell me? Is she, is she well, Mother Isita? She's as well as she could be. Why did you let her go on? Why didn't you make her stay? She had a right to leave and she left. That's all there is to it. Did you want her to leave? No. Do you still love her? Oh, yes. And the, the other one? That's quite another thing. Juan, listen, listen, my son. Stop it! Why don't you leave me alone instead of interfering and criticizing me? Let me alone! Yes, my son. Oh, Mother Isita. Forgive me, Mother Isita. Sit down. The best table for senor Gallardo, the best I have. Don't you so? What would you like? Champagne. Champagne. See? Champagne. A nice place, I'm glad we came. Is this where the bullfighters come after the ring? It's very... Juan. What are you staring at me for? I'm trying to figure out what sort of a woman you are. Yes? The trouble is you're not one woman, but many. And never the same. Well, one changes, you know. Yes. Why didn't you come to see me in the ring last Sunday? I had a headache. A headache? Yes. Is that so strange? No. I remember another time. A headache. The night I came to your house. It was Captain Martinez then. Open your door. Good evening. Good evening, Manolo. May I sit down? We'll need to introduce myself, senor. I'm Manolo the Palmer. I shall have the pleasure soon of appearing in the ring. You're in civilian. Oh, nice. I shall look forward to it. I understand Juan will be in the same corridor. Yes. It'll be the first time we've appeared together. You'll have a chance to compare our styles. We work all together differently. How have you been, amigo? I've been well, thank you. And your mother? She's well, too. And your little wife? I hear she's gone off to the ranch with her father. That's no concern of yours. Get out. That's hardly the way to treat an old friend when they're old. Senora, would you like to dance? Yes. Yes, I'd love to. We came here to talk down your soul. And I prefer to dance. With... Manolo. Manolo. Manolo. Come sit down. The champagne. Senora and senora. Champagne. Champagne. Senor. Senor Gallardo. I'm leaving for the ring right now. Here, you'll need some perfume. You fool. Don't douse me with that stinking stuff. I only did it to kill the smell of rum on your breath. Well, thank you to mind your own business. I know what you're up to, Pablo. If you're looking for an excuse to quit me, just say so. I'm not going to quit you, honey. But it isn't right just the same to fill yourself with rum on the day of the fight. Well, it... it steadies my nerves. You will need steady nerves today. I've seen the bulls. We've drawn a bad one. It's not the bulls. It's the crowd. They're waiting for me with claws. The crowd is forgetful, honey. You're like a woman. And fickle like a woman. And cruel like a woman. Shut your mouth. But this time you can't blame the crowd. You're not giving them anything. Well, I've had bad luck. The bulls have been much bigger. They only seem bigger because of the smell of rum. They only seem bigger because when you face them, you're afraid. You were born to very little like the rest of us. But one thing you had that was real and pure. You were a born killer of bulls. But she took that away from you. Now when you face the bull with a sword, you're drained. You're empty. There's nothing left of you but fear. Be quiet. You've got a gun, haven't you? Why don't you bring it to the ring with you and kill the beast with a bullet? Be quiet! Now get out! Get out! Yes, Juanil. And don't come back to you here. Don't come back! Stay out of my sight! I'm afraid. I'm not afraid. I fear nothing. The bull hasn't been born who can harm me. Juanil, you had better rest. Andresita, what are you doing? Get up! I'm cleaning the floor, Juanil. It is well to keep in practice. Get up! Get up! Suppose somebody should see you. There's nobody left in this house to see me, but you. I don't like you to be on your knees like that. There's nothing wrong with being on my knees. That's how I pray. That's how I work. This house was clean when we moved into it. Let it be clean when we move out. What's all this talk about moving out? Juan, when you were little, you would not listen to me. When you listen to me now. Well, what do you want? I want you to leave the bull ring. Leave the bull ring? When I'm at the top? I've been through all this before. When you reach the top, you begin to slip. There's only one way you can possibly go. And that's down. Oh, Mother Isita, you talk like all the rest. Just because I've had a few poor afternoons, a little bad luck you think I'm through. But you're wrong. And so are they all. I'm just as good as I ever was. And better because I know more. Juanil. What's wrong with your hand? My hand? You're shaking, my son. It's nothing. It's always like this on the... on the morning of an afternoon. Juanil. Juanil. I am ready. Have Pablo. Thank you for being here. And forgive me for what I said to you. Would I let you go into the ring alone? Have you prayed, Juanil? Yes. For many things. Come then. They're waiting. Juanil. What are you doing here? I'm always here. Whenever you fight. You mean all these weeks since you left me? I never left you, Juan. I've only been waiting for you. Waiting for the sickness to pass. Only a minute ago I was praying to see you. I believe in miracles now. I love you, Juan. I always will. Carmen's seated. I'm so glad you are wearing your white suit today. It's a one I like the best. You look so nice in me. So... so one. Juanil. It was a sickness. And it has passed. When I feel you in my arms like this, I'm born again. I'm strong now. I can do anything. You'll see. They'll see out there. Everybody. I'll show them. Juanil. I'll wait for you here. There is a seat for you in the arena. No. I will stay here, Garabato. I said I would wait for him. He's in the ring now. You can see him from here, senora. He is making history this afternoon. Macarena. Our Lady of Hope. Walter. Bring him back to me. Please. Bring him back to me. I tell you we as arrogance itself. He's everything I have. Dear Lady. He's my life. Now he turns us back. He turns us back on the bull. Juanil, be careful. Juanil. Senora, senora. Thank you, Padre. The doctor will be here in a moment, my son. Tell him you needn't hurry. Juanil. Carmen, sit there. I wish you would have seen me out there. I really wasn't bad. I heard the cheer. Juanil. I'll be up on my feet before you know it. Yes, Juanil. I'm going to leave the arena. There'll be money to take care of my mother. With enough leftover for us to buy a farm. Just a little patch. Somewhere in the country. And you can teach me how to read and write. Juanil, you dare. Does it hurt very much? Hurt? Hurt one Gallardo? Yes. Hurt one Gallardo? The bull isn't born. That can't... Juanil. You're the only true one in the world. My child, you must be brave as he was. You must ask our lord of great power to give you courage. No, Padre. I don't need courage. I have his. I'll always have it. Moments our stars will return for their curtain calls. Meantime, let's listen in a minute in a house around the corner. Jane is showing her sister some stockings she bought today. Buying stockings certainly puts a hole in the budget nowadays. These will have to last me a long, long time. Better knock on wood, hadn't you, Jane? Well, I'll do that, too. But somehow I think luxing them every night will do more good. Yes, with lovely stockings more precious than ever. More important than ever to get better wear from every pair. And Jane has the right idea. Don't trust her luck. Trust her luxe. You see, it's not just luck that helps some girls get better wear from their stockings than others do. Barring accidents, of course. The wear you get depends upon the care you give them. And Newquake Luxe's care experts advise. Over 90% of the makers of all kinds of stockings, rayon, cotton, wool, as well as silk and nylon, over 90% advise Luxe Flakes. There's no harmful alkali in Luxe. And, of course, no cake soap rubbing to weaken delicate fibers. Naturally, lovely stockings don't go into holes or run so quickly. They'll wear better, look new, and lovely longer. Be sure to luxe them after every wearing so perspiration doesn't remain in the threads to injure them. Get a big box of Luxe Flakes first thing tomorrow morning and give all your stockings this quick, thrifty, safe care. Newquake Luxe comes in the same familiar package, costs you no more, and one big box will do your stockings every night for months. Now, here's Mr. DeMille with our stars. The picker doors and the matter doors have been left behind in some Spanish arena. Now, we welcome back to this microphone Tyrone Power and his charming wife and co-star, Annabella. Thank you, sir. It's always a pleasure to come back to the Luxe Theater. You've both been away too long, Annabella. Before we forget about bullfighting entirely, Tyrone, perhaps the audience would appreciate a few definitions. Most Americans are confused by the bandarieros, picker doors, and matter doors, for instance. Which one corresponds to the quarterback? Well, I guess you could say that the bandarieros and picker doors run into ference for the matter door. So the bull will be good and mad when the matter door comes out. Incidentally, no good bullfighter has ever called a target door in Spain. That's a French word popularized by the opera, Carmen. However, I'm sure Americans will continue to prefer Joe Lewis, football, ice hockey, water polo, and other politer forms of mayhem. What's the play going to be here next week, Mr. DeMille? Next week, Annabella? Youth is king. Because our play is the 20th Century Fox picture, her first bow. And our stars are Jane Withers and Jackie Cooper. You'll admit, I'm sure, that her first bow is a dramatic moment in the life of any girl. So if you'd like to live over again a few years of your own youth, listen to Jane Withers and Jackie Cooper and her first bow with Edith Fellows next Monday night. I know that's a play everyone will enjoy, CB. Good night. Good night, Mr. DeMille. Good night. Good night. And three Lousings V-Lows for each of you. Our sponsors, the makers of Lux Flakes, join me in inviting you to be with us again next Monday night. When the Lux Radio Theatre presents Jane Withers and Jackie Cooper with Edith Fellows in her first bow. This is Cecil B. DeMille saying good night to you from Hollywood. Friends, put a big circle around Wednesday on your calendar. That's to remind you to be sure to listen to Radio's fast-moving gripping program, Big Town. Featuring that dynamic star of stage screen and radio, Edward G. Robinson with owner Munson. You'll be thrilled by Mr. Robinson's stirring performance of Steve Wilson, editor of the Illustrated Press, in this exciting story of one man's fight for justice and humanity in the great American tradition. So I recommend that you listen next Wednesday evening to Big Town. See your local paper for time and station. Ladies and gentlemen, every school child in this land knows that liberty belongs to him, to his country. You can help to keep the torch burning by enlisting your dollars for defense. Buy United States defense bonds and stamps. Any post office, bank, or savings and loan association will help you. Buy and keep on buying defense bonds and stamps. Tyrone Power appeared tonight through the courtesy of 20th Century Fox Studios and will soon be seen on the screen in a yank in the RAF. Heard in tonight's play were Kathleen Fitz, as done you saw, B. Benaderit as Juan's mother, Gail Gordon as Pablo, Jeff Cory as Garabato, Lou Merrill as Kuro, and Anstone, Eric Rolf, Paul Dubov, Howard McNeer, Bruce Payne, Elsa Brand, Nick Toms, Lester Sharp, and Walter Tetley. Our music was directed by Lois Silvers. Next Monday evening, the Lux Radio Theatre presents Jane Withers and Jackie Cooper in her first bowl with Edith Bellows. Your announcer has been Melville Roick and this is the Columbia Broadcasting System.