2UE ANNCR:

This is Radio 2UE Sydney, a member of the Major Broadcasting Network. Eastern Standard Time is eight o'clock.

SOUND:

TONE

MUSIC:

FANFARE

ANNCR:

The best-known fanfare in radio, heralding the radio event of the year!

VOICE:

Lux Radio Theatre is back on the air!

ANNCR:

Tonight, from the stage of the Lux Radio Theatre in Sydney, Vincent Price, direct from Hollywood, to star in "Nineteen Eighty-Four"!

MUSIC:

BRIEF THEME ... FADES OUT BEHIND--

ANNCR:

Welcome to the internationally famous Lux Radio Theatre, brought to you by the makers of Lux Toilet Soap.

WOMAN:

Pure, white Lux Toilet Soap, the beauty care of the stars.

ANNCR:

Yes, nine out of every ten film stars use only pure white Lux Toilet Soap. That's the secret of their smooth, glowing, radiant complexions.

WOMAN:

But you don't have to be a film star to have a film star complexion.

ANNCR:

The mild, gentle, beautifying care of Lux Toilet Soap brings new loveliness to your skin; makes it glow with latent beauty. That's the promise of Lux Toilet Soap. Try it. Starting tonight, use only--

WOMAN:

--pure white Lux Toilet Soap.

ANNCR:

Now, by courtesy of the Major Broadcasting Network, your host in the Lux Radio Theatre, Mr. Eric Pearce.

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

HOST:

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the second production in the new series of Lux Radio Theatre. Our play, George Orwell's "Nineteen Eighty-Four," is headline news following a recent television broadcast on England's BBC. It is a thoughtful, powerful, and sometimes terrifying story of a future groaning under totalitarian power. "Nineteen Eighty-Four" stirred up tremendous controversy following its English performance. To head our cast in this controversial broadcast we're fortunate in having Vincent Price, distinguished American star of "Dragonwyck," "The House of Wax," and "Laura." Mr. Price is about to start work on his latest film, "The Ten Commandments," and through cooperation with Pan American World Airways we've been able to fly him to Australia especially for this performance. And now the Lux Radio Theatre proudly presents Vincent Price as Winston Smith in "Nineteen Eighty-Four."

SOUND:

BRIEF INTRODUCTION

NARRATOR:

Nineteen Eighty-Four! The world is one world, divided into three parts: East Asia, Eurasia, Oceania.

MUSIC:

ACCENT

NARRATOR:

Religion is abolished; God is rooted out; there is only Big Brother. Big Brother is the head of the Party. Big Brother is one -- indivisible, unassailable.

MUSIC:

ACCENT

TELESCREEN:

Oceania is good, because Big Brother is good! Oceania is one, because Big Brother is one! Big Brother sees everything; knows everything! Everyone exists by the clemency of Big Brother!

VOICES:

(SOLEMN CHANTING) Big Brother-- Big Brother-- Big Brother-- (CONTINUES IN BG--)

NARRATOR:

In Oceania there are the proles. The proles, like the animals, are free. They have no telescreens in their houses; they have no numbers; they wear no uniform. The proles are the primitives -- the early, inferior people. Subdued by the Party, subject to the Party, they are the lost and the forgotten. Between the proles and the Party there is a great gulf fixed: a prole cannot join the Party; no party member can retreat to the proles.

TELESCREEN:

The Party is one, as Big Brother is one!

VOICES:

(SOLEMN CHANTING, UP AND OUT) Big Brother!

NARRATOR:

Every member of the Party wears a uniform, a suit of overalls. Every member of the Party has a telescreen in his house.

MUSIC:

ACCENT

NARRATOR:

Every member of the Party has a number.

TELESCREEN:

You, there! Stand up! In front of the screen! What is your number?

WINSTON:

(DUTIFUL, POLITE) Six-Oh-Seven-Nine.

TELESCREEN:

Your name?

WINSTON:

Winston Smith.

TELESCREEN:

Where do you live?

WINSTON:

Third floor, Victory Mansions.

TELESCREEN:

Employment in the Party?

WINSTON:

Records Department, Ministry of Truth.

TELESCREEN:

Repeat the slogans of the Party -- with fervor.

WINSTON:

War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength.

TELESCREEN:

Now -- how is Oceania governed?

WINSTON:

By Big Brother, through the Ministry of Truth, the Ministry of Peace, the Ministry of Plenty, the Ministry of Love.

TELESCREEN:

Describe their functions.

WINSTON:

The Ministry of Truth; news, entertainment, education. The Ministry of Peace; conduct of war. The Ministry of Plenty; economics.

TELESCREEN:

(BEAT) Well? Go on. The Ministry of Love. What does that do?

WINSTON:

I don't know. I have never been there.

TELESCREEN:

Let us hope, for your sake, that you never do. The Ministry of Love is where people who do not love Big Brother are taught to love him. Do you love Big Brother, Winston Smith?

WINSTON:

I love Big Brother.

TELESCREEN:

Repeat it.

WINSTON:

I love Big Brother. I love Big Brother.

TELESCREEN:

Your tour of duty at the Records Office begins at nine hundred hours. Be there on time. Six-Oh-Seven-Nine, Winston Smith, dismissed.

SOUND:

SCENE FADES OUT ... TRANSITIONAL PAUSE

INNER VOICE:

That was an unexpected call, wasn't it?

WINSTON:

Oh, they do it sometimes. Part of the quarterly brush-up; discipline, you know.

INNER VOICE:

Perhaps. But that fellow on the screen was probably from the Thought Police. They can cut in on anybody's screen, you know. They do. How do you think so many comrades have been vaporized? Thought Police, of course. And the home telescreen-- They can see you and hear you all the time.

WINSTON:

But I've got nothing to worry about. I stick to the Party rules; I do my job. I--

INNER VOICE:

(INTERRUPTS) But you don't think the way the Party thinks, do you? More important, you don't want to think the way the Party thinks; the way Big Brother wants you to think, do you?

WINSTON:

(UNNERVED, APOLOGETIC) I just couldn't face the telescreen any longer. I had to get out and get away.

INNER VOICE:

You and I.

WINSTON:

You?

INNER VOICE:

Well, you. I'm you, Winston. I'm the other you, who looks out of your eyes.

WINSTON:

Yes. Yes, you twitch my lips and tingle in my fingertips at the most inconvenient times. But they know nothing about you. They control me like they control everybody else.

INNER VOICE:

Then why do you do the silly things you do?

WINSTON:

What silly things?

INNER VOICE:

That book you bought.

WINSTON:

But it's just an old book with blank pages. What's wrong with that?

INNER VOICE:

Nothing. Except they don't make books like that any more. And if they ask you where you got it, you'd have to tell them, at an antique shop in the prole quarter.

WINSTON:

But I just wanted to keep a diary. Nothing wrong in that, is there?

INNER VOICE:

No. Except you'd find it hard to explain why you wanted to keep a diary. And remember, you're not supposed to go into the prole quarter anyway.

WINSTON:

No, I know. The proles aren't members of the Party; they're just slaves. But will you stop it? I've got enough to worry about as it is.

INNER VOICE:

Yes. It's the girl, isn't it? The girl in the Fiction Department.

WINSTON:

Yes. Yes, the way she looks at me. The way she stays near me.

INNER VOICE:

She's rather pretty.

WINSTON:

Well, if you like that sort of thing. A lot of good it is when she wears the red sash of the Anti-Sex League, and could be a police spy into the bargain.

INNER VOICE:

You're rattled this morning. Mustn't get rattled, you know. It shows. That's the way they get on to you first. Pull yourself together. There's where you work. There's the Ministry of Truth straight ahead. Smile now, Winston. Smile.

MUSIC:

TRANSITION

SOUND:

OFFICE BACKGROUND

O'BRIEN:

Good morning, Comrade Smith.

WINSTON:

What? Uh-- Oh, good morning, Comrade O'Brien.

O'BRIEN:

Not often we meet like this.

WINSTON:

No. No, comrade. Of course, I've often wanted to. I--

O'BRIEN:

Wanted? What, comrade?

WINSTON:

Well, I - I don't know. It's probably foolish. You are known as a great man in the Party. I've admired you from a distance.

O'BRIEN:

I hear good reports of your work, Smith.

WINSTON:

Well, I've often hoped I - I might discuss it with you.

O'BRIEN:

A pity we have no time now. Never mind. We'll meet again one day -- in the place where there is no darkness.

WINSTON:

"In the place where there is no--"? I - I beg your pardon, comrade?

O'BRIEN:

(MOVING OFF) Good morning, comrade. Don't let me keep you from your work.

WINSTON:

(TO HIMSELF) "Place where there is no darkness"? He - he said--

INNER VOICE:

Never mind that now, you fool. Compose yourself; you're at work. Everybody watches; everybody listens -- for Big Brother.

WINSTON:

Oh, yes. Yes, of course.

INNER VOICE:

But O'Brien understands.

WINSTON:

(WITH RELIEF) Yes. Yes, O'Brien understands!

INNER VOICE:

You know now that you're not alone. But smile, smile. There's that girl again. Don't let her see. Don't let her guess. Above all, not her.

SOUND:

OFFICE DOOR OPENS

TELESCREEN:

Six-Oh-Seven-Nine, Comrade Smith?

WINSTON:

Present for duty.

TELESCREEN:

Repeat the slogan of the Ministry of Truth.

WINSTON:

Who controls the past, controls the future. Who controls the present, controls the past.

TELESCREEN:

Does the past exist?

WINSTON:

Yes.

TELESCREEN:

Where?

WINSTON:

In records and in memories.

TELESCREEN:

Which is the more important?

WINSTON:

The records.

TELESCREEN:

Why?

WINSTON:

The records endure, but memories fade.

TELESCREEN:

So?

WINSTON:

Who controls the records, controls the memory of the people.

TELESCREEN:

Are you impressed with the greatness of your task?

WINSTON:

I am.

TELESCREEN:

Then begin, Comrade Smith. This is urgent. Big Brother's order of the day -- seventeenth through the third, Eighty-Four -- contains references to unpersons. Rewrite completely.

SOUND:

CLICK! OF TELESCREEN SHUTTING OFF

WINSTON:

(SOBERLY, TO HIMSELF) Unpersons. Oh, I have to be careful about this. Unpersons are always tricky. Even Big Brother can't refer to them. Unpersons don't exist.

INNER VOICE:

Oh, let's be frank. Unpersons are persons who have been liquidated -- destroyed. Your job is to see that all record of them is destroyed as well. Are they mentioned in the press?

WINSTON:

Delete their names.

INNER VOICE:

Are they shown in photographs?

WINSTON:

Make a new photograph.

INNER VOICE:

Are their voices recorded?

WINSTON:

Destroy their records, and presto! They do not exist. They never existed. They have no place in memory or history.

INNER VOICE:

That could happen to you, too.

SOUND:

BUZZER!

TELESCREEN:

All personnel will lay aside their work and face the telescreen for the One-Minute Hate!

SOUND:

MURMUR AND MOVEMENT AS WORKERS LAY ASIDE THEIR WORK AND TURN ... WINSTON'S VOICE JOINS THE OTHER VOICES DURING FOLLOWING--

INNER VOICE:

You're out of luck. The girl's sitting right next to you. Watch your step now. Make it a convincing Hate. Thought Police are very shrewd.

TELESCREEN:

(SAVAGELY) You are here -- to hate! You are here to loathe; to despise; to detest with all your being! Whom do you hate?!

VOICES:

(CHANTING MECHANICALLY) Goldstein-- Goldstein-- Goldstein--

TELESCREEN:

Goldstein is what?!

VOICES:

Enemy of the people. Saboteur. Traitor.

TELESCREEN:

Whom else do you hate?!

VOICES:

The Brotherhood. Goldstein and his Brotherhood.

TELESCREEN:

What's the penalty for traitors like these?!

VOICES:

(INCREASINGLY SAVAGE) Death-- Death! Death!! (THEY YELL "DEATH-DEATH-DEATH!" CHAOTICALLY, THEN FALL SILENT)

TELESCREEN:

(BEAT, QUIETLY) We hate traitors. (CHANGES TONE, GENTLY) We love Big Brother.

VOICES:

(MECHANICALLY) We hate traitors. We love Big Brother. Speak to us, Big Brother.

MUSIC:

FOR BIG BROTHER'S APPEARANCE ... BELLS AND TYMPANI ... GODLIKE GRANDEUR, THEN OUT

BIG BROTHER:

(FILTERED, WARMLY) My comrades. My brothers. We live in times of great peril. We are exposed to the attacks of enemies without, and traitors within. But have no fear. I am with you always.

MUSIC:

FOR BIG BROTHER'S DISAPPEARANCE ... BELLS AND TYMPANI ... GODLIKE GRANDEUR, THEN OUT

TELESCREEN:

The One-Minute Hate is concluded! All personnel will return to work!

MUSIC:

TRANSITION

SOUND:

MURMUR OF CANTEEN CROWD ... THEN IN BG

SYME:

Are you eating with anyone, Smith?

WINSTON:

Oh, hello, Syme. Well, no--

SYME:

Good. I'll join you.

WINSTON:

(COUGHS HARSHLY, THEN LIGHTLY APOLOGETIC) I don't know what they put in this Victory Gin, but it always makes me do that.

SYME:

Yes, it is rather strong, isn't it?

WINSTON:

Excellent product, though. Excellent.

SYME:

You seem rather distracted, Smith. Something on your mind?

WINSTON:

What's that? Oh, no, nothing on my mind. I - I was just looking at that girl over there.

SYME:

Yes, she's been looking at you, too. Do you know her?

WINSTON:

No.

SYME:

Wouldn't help you if you did, would it? She wears that red sash like a banner.

WINSTON:

That's an odd thing to say.

SYME:

Comes of working in the poetry department. We're editing Kipling now, you know. Quite a lot of banners in Kipling.

WINSTON:

I understand the Junior Anti-Sex League is one of the favorite institutions of the Party.

SYME:

Oh, yes. Yes, I believe so. Er, you're married, aren't you?

WINSTON:

I was.

SYME:

Oh? Divorced?

WINSTON:

Separated.

SYME:

Oh?

WINSTON:

With the consent of the Party. It was apparent we would have no children.

SYME:

The Party takes a very wise view of these matters.

WINSTON:

Of all matters.

SYME:

As you say. (BEAT, INSINUATINGLY) Funny. That girl's still looking at you.

WINSTON:

(TESTILY) But I can't help it if she has nothing better to do. (CHANGES TONE, UNHAPPY) Oh, here comes Parsons.

SYME:

Mm-hmm. He lives near you, doesn't he?

WINSTON:

Yes, next floor down. He's got a wife and children.

SYME:

You'd better talk to him. I don't think I could.

PARSONS:

(APPROACHES, PLEASANTLY) Oh, hello. Hello, comrades.

SYME:

Hello, Parsons.

WINSTON:

Hello, comrade.

PARSONS:

I've been chasing you, Smith.

WINSTON:

What?

PARSONS:

Yes. It's about that subscription you forgot to pay me.

WINSTON:

Oh? Which one is that?

PARSONS:

Hate Week. The house-by-house fund. We're going to decorate Victory Mansions. Two dollars you promised me.

WINSTON:

Oh, well-- Here you are.

PARSONS:

Thanks. I say, did I tell you about what my little girl did last Saturday?

WINSTON:

(UNENTHUSIASTIC) Well--

PARSONS:

(ENTHUSIASTIC) Well, she was out with the Junior Spies troop near Berkhamsted. They spent the whole of the afternoon following a strange man. They kept on his tail for two hours and then handed him over to the patrols. Clever, eh?

SYME:

What was the man doing?

PARSONS:

Nothing -- he says. But my little Millie was smart. She spotted him chipping pieces off the rocks with a hammer. Must have been a saboteur.

WINSTON:

(UNEASILY) Well, er-- What happened to the man?

PARSONS:

Well, I don't know. But I wouldn't be surprised if, eh-- (MAKES A THROAT-CUTTING NOISE) You know?

SYME:

(CHUCKLES) That's very good.

PARSONS:

(CHUCKLES) Of course, we can't afford to take chances. I mean, not with subversive agents everywhere.

WINSTON:

No. No, of course not.

SYME:

Of course.

PARSONS:

Well, I've got a few more subscriptions to chase up. (MOVING OFF) I'll, um, see you later.

SYME:

(BEAT) Tell me, Smith--?

WINSTON:

Mmm?

SYME:

Did you ever regret not having any children?

WINSTON:

Well, I can't say I've thought much about it. Why?

SYME:

I was just wondering. Parsons seems very happy with his little brood, doesn't he?

MUSIC:

TRANSITION

INNER VOICE:

You see what I mean about being careful? Watch that fellow Syme. Oh, he's clever, and he never says a word out of place, but he's marked. One day he just won't come to work, mark my words.

WINSTON:

Why should I worry about Syme? He can look after himself. I'm worried about me. About that - that girl.

INNER VOICE:

Oh, working in the same building, people are bound to see each other frequently.

WINSTON:

For some reason she's interested in me. She keeps turning and-- Why? Why?

INNER VOICE:

It can't be sex. She's a member of the Junior Anti-Sex League. I doubt if she's from the Thought Police. Except for that diary you keep, you haven't given too much away.

WINSTON:

Well, anyway, she's not important. The important thing is O'Brien. He spoke to me today. He understands! He knows!

INNER VOICE:

Knows you're guilty of Thoughtcrime. That you hate Big Brother. That you--

WINSTON:

(INTERRUPTS) All of that, and more. Everything! Don't you see? If O'Brien knows, there is hope then!

JULIA:

(STARTLED CRY AS SHE BUMPS INTO WINSTON)

WINSTON:

Oh, I'm sorry, comrade.

JULIA:

(APOLOGETIC) Comrade, I wasn't looking where I was--

WINSTON:

Wait a minute. You're the girl from the Ministry of Truth, aren't you?

JULIA:

That's right.

WINSTON:

You've been watching me for days.

JULIA:

Yes.

WINSTON:

(A LITTLE INDIGNANT) But why? I'm a good party member. Why do you have to spy on me?

JULIA:

(LOWERS HER VOICE) I'm not spying on you. All I wanted to do was to tell you-- I love you.

WINSTON:

You - love me? (BEAT, CALLS AFTER HER) Wait. Wait a moment! (BEAT, TO HIMSELF, ASTONISHED) She - she loves me. She said she loves me.

MILLIE:

(POLITE) Good evening, Mr. Smith.

WINSTON:

Oh, hello, Millie Parsons. What are you doing out so late?

MILLIE:

(SWEET) Mr. Smith--?

WINSTON:

Yes, Millie?

MILLIE:

(ABRUPTLY ACCUSING) You're a traitor!

WINSTON:

(SURPRISED) Wha--?

MILLIE:

I've been watching you! You're a thought-criminal!

WINSTON:

(TAKEN ABACK) Millie--? (ANGRY) Millie! Get out! Go home! I'll tell your father about this!

MILLIE:

(YELLS, A SING-SONG RHYME) Smith's a traitor! Smith's a spy! / Catch him first and let him die! (HARSH LAUGHTER, LONG AND LOUD)

MUSIC:

FIRST ACT CURTAIN

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

WOMAN:

Dreamy lace and silken ribbons -- that's a nightie to give you sweet, sweet dreams.

ANNCR:

But don't forget -- dainty lingerie must be washed after every wearing.

WOMAN:

Won't all that frequent washing harm the delicate fabric?

ANNCR:

Not when you use Lux Flakes. For silks, for flimsy laces, for all pretty things -- Lux is so safe. Those tiny Lux diamonds dissolve quickly. They whisk up into rich luxurious suds and leave your delicate fabrics fresh, clean, and lovely. For nylon, too, Lux is a must. Beautiful featherweight nylon must never be touched by anything else but Lux.

WOMAN:

Strong soaps wear it out; fade its delicate color.

ANNCR:

Lux Flakes keep nylons sweet, fragrant, and fresh as new.

WOMAN:

For nylon, for satin and silk, and for soft smooth hands, too, switch to Lux.

ANNCR:

Lux is so safe.

WOMAN:

Your hands, as well as your dainty undies, will tell you so.

HOST:

Our Hollywood star, Vincent Price, returns as Winston Smith in Act II of "Nineteen Eighty-Four."

MUSIC:

SECOND ACT INTRODUCTION ... THEN SAD AND LONELY BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

Nineteen Eighty-Four! The year of Big Brother. The all-embracing night of Big Brother. If you belong to the Party, you are free to attend a Party rally, or a Party discussion group, or rest briefly, or watch the Party entertainers on the Party telescreen. But if you are Number Six-Oh-Seven-Nine, Comrade Winston Smith, party member in revolt, loaded with the guilt of thoughtcrime, you walk the city, the dark narrow streets of the city, clinging desperately to those few cubic centimeters inside your skull case, which is all that is left to you of privacy, possession, and hope.

MUSIC:

UP AND OUT

WINSTON:

(SLOWLY THOUGHTFUL, TO HIMSELF) The way she said "love" made it sound completely personal, private, indestructible.

INNER VOICE:

(INSISTENT) It isn't, you know. It can't be. Not now in the year of Big Brother. Love involves an alienation of something that belongs to Big Brother and to the Party. Love is betrayal; love is thoughtcrime; it's hopeless!

WINSTON:

I refuse to believe that. It is not hopeless. There is a chance. There is O'Brien; he understands; he is in revolt, too.

INNER VOICE:

(CONCEDES) Yes, there is O'Brien. (BEAT) Hello, you've walked a long way. Remember that shop?

WINSTON:

Yes. That is where I bought the book for my diary. It's a junk shop. It's old and musty and full of useless things. But it proves something, don't you see? It proves that things were different once in spite of what the records say, and if they were different once, they could be different again.

INNER VOICE:

Go on. In you go.

SOUND:

SHOP DOOR OPENS, A LITTLE BELL RINGS ... DOOR SHUTS

CHARRINGTON:

(PLEASANT) Good evening.

WINSTON:

(THE SAME) Good evening.

CHARRINGTON:

Er, what can I--? (RECOGNIZES WINSTON) Oh, why, of course! You're the gentleman that bought the lady's keepsake album. Is there anything special I can do for you?

WINSTON:

I was passing. I just looked in. I - I don't want anything in particular.

CHARRINGTON:

(LIGHTLY) Yes, just as well. The shop's nearly empty. Between you and me, the antique trade's just about finished. No demand; no stock, either.

WINSTON:

That's a pretty thing. What is that?

CHARRINGTON:

This? Oh, this. A glass paperweight.

WINSTON:

What's that inside of it?

CHARRINGTON:

That's coral.

WINSTON:

Coral?

CHARRINGTON:

(YES) Mm. Must have come from the Indian Ocean. They used to melt the glass onto it. More than a hundred years old that is.

WINSTON:

It's a beautiful thing.

CHARRINGTON:

Yes, indeed it is. Now there's another room upstairs you might care to take a look at.

WINSTON:

Oh, yes, of course.

CHARRINGTON:

There's not much in it. Just a few pieces. (MOVING OFF) We could do with a light if we're going up. (FADES OUT)

SOUND:

TRANSITIONAL PAUSE ... SCENE FADES IN

CHARRINGTON:

There. That's the room. We used to live here till my wife died. Now I'm selling the furniture off little by little. See? That's a beautiful mahogany bed.

WINSTON:

(TAKEN ABACK) There's - there's no telescreen.

CHARRINGTON:

Ah, I never had one of those things. It was too expensive. And I never really felt the need of it.

WINSTON:

You - you don't live here now?

CHARRINGTON:

Oh, dear me, no. I live with my daughter.

WINSTON:

Oh.

CHARRINGTON:

She has quite a nice apartment -- in the worst of taste. (CHUCKLES) No, I lock up at night and leave all my memories here. Well now, if you happen to be interested in old prints at all, there's quite a nice one over here. Er, the frame's screwed to the wall, but - but I daresay I could fix it for you, if you wanted it, that is.

WINSTON:

(QUIET RECOGNITION) I know that building!

CHARRINGTON:

Hmm?

WINSTON:

It's a ruin now. It's in the middle of the street outside of the Palace of Justice.

CHARRINGTON:

That's right. Outside the law courts. It was bombed in, um-- Oh, many years ago. It was a church at one time.

WINSTON:

A church?

CHARRINGTON:

Oh, yes, yes. St Clement Danes. (A SING-SONG RHYME) "Oranges and lemons / say the bells of St Clement's." (CHUCKLES) Silly of me.

WINSTON:

What's that?

CHARRINGTON:

"Oranges and lemons." That was a rhyme we had when I was a little boy.

WINSTON:

Oh.

CHARRINGTON:

Though how it goes on I don't remember. But it ends up, (A SING-SONG RHYME) "Here comes a candle to light you to bed / Here comes a chopper to chop off your head." (CHUCKLES) It was a kind of dance and a game all in one. All the names of the churches were in it.

WINSTON:

I've heard about churches, but I didn't realize I'd ever seen one.

CHARRINGTON:

Oh, there's a lot of them left really, but of course they've been put to other uses now. You, er--? You wouldn't like to buy the picture?

WINSTON:

No no, no no. But look, I like this room.

CHARRINGTON:

Mm?

WINSTON:

I might-- Well, I - I might at some later date want to rent it from you for a while. I'd pay you quite well.

CHARRINGTON:

Well, I - I don't see why not. If you'd look after all my old things, I--

WINSTON:

(INTERRUPTS) I'll let you know later then. (MOVING OFF) You've been very kind, thank you.

CHARRINGTON:

Pity you've got to go. I - I'm just on the verge of remembering the rest of the rhyme. (FADING OUT, A SING-SONG RHYME) "Oranges and lemons / say the bells of St Clement's."

SOUND:

SHOP DOOR WITH TINKLING BELL OPENS AND CLOSES ... TRANSITIONAL PAUSE

JULIA:

(HUSHED, OFF) Winston?

WINSTON:

(STARTLED) What?

JULIA:

(CLOSER) Stop. Don't look 'round. Just light a cigarette.

WINSTON:

Oh, this is madness.

JULIA:

Do you want us to meet?

WINSTON:

Yes, of course.

JULIA:

Next Sunday -- are you free?

WINSTON:

Yes.

JULIA:

Then listen carefully. Now, you'll have to remember this. Go to Paddington Station. Take the train to Hilborn.

WINSTON:

Yes.

JULIA:

Now when you get there, turn left outside the station. Walk two kilometres till you come to a gate with the top rail missing. Now follow the path and wait for me by the fallen tree. Have you got that?

WINSTON:

Yes, wait.

JULIA:

I'll be there at fifteen hundred hours. (BEAT) I must go now. Now, don't follow me. Just finish your cigarette.

WINSTON:

But listen, you--

JULIA:

(INTERRUPTS, WHISPERS) I love you. (INSISTENT) I love you.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

SOUND:

DURING THE BRIDGE, FAST TRAIN ENGINE RUMBLES DOWN TRACK ... AFTER BRIDGE, PASTORAL NOISES ... BIRDS CHIRPING, ET CETERA

INNER VOICE:

You're picking bluebells in the country while you're waiting for a girl. You know you've taken the first step on a road that has only one end -- death -- and yet you're picking bluebells.

WINSTON:

(THOUGHTFUL, TO HIMSELF) I don't remember picking bluebells before. It's not in the Party syllabus. Well, to hell with the Party! To hell with--!

JULIA:

(INTERRUPTS) Hello.

WINSTON:

(SURPRISED, PLEASED) Oh. Hello.

JULIA:

(AMUSED) Do you always talk to yourself?

WINSTON:

Usually. It's safer.

JULIA:

(NO) Uh uh. 'Tisn't really. Becomes a habit. The habit gives you away.

WINSTON:

I suppose it does.

JULIA:

(BEAT, LIGHTLY) You can put your arms around me now. I don't bite.

WINSTON:

I - I don't even know your name.

JULIA:

(AMUSED) Mine is Julia. Yours is--

WINSTON:

Winston Smith.

JULIA:

I know. I found out. Now put your arms around me. (BEAT, WHISPERS) Kiss me.

WINSTON:

(BEAT, LOW, FERVENT) Oh, Julia-- Julia! Till this moment I didn't know what color your eyes were. I'd forgotten what a pair of lips tasted like. I'd forgotten how it felt to hold a woman.

JULIA:

(AMUSED) It didn't take you long to remember.

WINSTON:

(AWKWARD) Before we go any further -- I'm thirty-nine; I've got a wife I can't get rid of; I've got a varicose ulcer and five false teeth--

JULIA:

(INTERRUPTS, DELIBERATELY) And I couldn't care less.

WINSTON:

Julia, are we safe here?

JULIA:

Safer than anywhere. (BEAT) Now relax. Hold me in your arms.

WINSTON:

(EXHALES)

JULIA:

(EXHALES) Now just let's be ourselves. (BEAT) Tell me, what did you think the night I told you that I loved you?

WINSTON:

I hated the sight of you. If you must know, I thought you belonged to the Thought Police.

JULIA:

(LAUGHS) The Thought Police! Oh, not really.

WINSTON:

Well, if not that, at least--

JULIA:

(INTERRUPTS, MERRILY) A good Party member, pure in word and deed; banners, processions, games, community hikes-- (LAUGHS) And you thought if I had half a chance, I'd denounce you to the police and get you killed off?

WINSTON:

Oh, more or less. I--

JULIA:

(LAUGHS) It's this blasted sash that does it -- the Junior Anti-Sex League. (BEAT, TEASINGLY) Let's get rid of it for the afternoon, huh?

WINSTON:

Julia! You're a perpetual surprise.

JULIA:

(LAUGHS) Not really. It's just that I've got the right appearance. I'm good at games. I was a troop leader in the Junior Spies. I do volunteer work three evenings a week for the Junior Anti-Sexers. I spend hours and hours pasting their silly posters all over London. I always look cheerful and I always yell with the crowd. That is the only way to be safe.

WINSTON:

Why did you pick me?

JULIA:

(BEAT) Something in your face. I knew you could be one of theirs, but-- I thought I'd take a chance.

WINSTON:

Julia, I've got a place -- a room and furniture -- we can be there whenever we like.

JULIA:

(NO, CORRECTS HIM) Mm mm, whenever we can, darling. It's not quite the same thing. I still have to stick up posters and you still have to go to discussion groups. (BEAT, WARMLY) But there'll be times-- Where is this place?

WINSTON:

In the old part of the city where the proles live. It's over an antique shop.

JULIA:

(PLEASED) Well! We have ourselves a love nest.

WINSTON:

(YES, AMUSED) Hmm.

JULIA:

But we'll have to be careful -- very careful -- not to give a sign, not a flicker of recognition.

WINSTON:

We will be. Julia, have you ever done this before?

JULIA:

Of course. Thousands of times. With dozens of men.

WINSTON:

Was it the same as with me?

JULIA:

Not quite. (BEAT) You see, darling, I love you.

WINSTON:

But the others--?

JULIA:

Two reasons, darling. I like it. The Party doesn't like it.

WINSTON:

You make it sound like a political act.

JULIA:

That's why they'd arrest us if they ever found out. (POINTEDLY) Love is a political act.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

WINSTON:

(GROANS WITH PLEASURE) Oh, Julia--

JULIA:

Yes, darling?

WINSTON:

Do you think it was ever like this -- for everybody?

JULIA:

Like what?

WINSTON:

Being in your own room on a summer evening, talking about things you wanted to talk about. Not worrying about telescreens or Thought Police.

JULIA:

Mmmmm, I don't know. I know it's nice now and we've got another hour to enjoy it.

WINSTON:

(MOANS AMOROUSLY)

JULIA:

And that's all! (CHUCKLE) Would you like me to make some tea?

WINSTON:

Yes, please.

JULIA:

(MOVING OFF) I like this room. I like-- (STARTLED) Oh!

SOUND:

THUMP! OF THROWN SHOE ON FLOOR ... RAT SQUEAKS AND SCAMPERS AWAY BEHIND--

JULIA:

(OFF) Get out, you filthy brute!

WINSTON:

What was that?

JULIA:

(OFF, INDIFFERENT) Oh, only a rat.

WINSTON:

(ALARMED) A rat!

JULIA:

(OFF) Oh, it was a big ugly fellow; I gave him a good fright, though.

WINSTON:

(MOANS IN HORROR) Ohhhhh--

JULIA:

(PUZZLED, CLOSER) Darling?

WINSTON:

(MOANS IN HORROR) Ohhhhh--

JULIA:

Darling, what's the matter?

WINSTON:

(PANICKED) Of all the horrible things in the world, I - I hate rats most of all!

JULIA:

(REASSURING) But, darling, there's no need to be upset. They're ugly things, unclean things, but that's all.

WINSTON:

No. No, they're more than that. They're much more than that, Julia!

JULIA:

Now, darling--

WINSTON:

Julia, please--

JULIA:

Darling, just lie back. I'll make tea and then I'll plug the hole.

WINSTON:

No, no -- plug up the hole first! Please, Julia, Julia--! (HYPERVENTILATES)

JULIA:

(SOOTHING, MOVING OFF) All right, darling. Of course.

WINSTON:

Julia-- When I was a child, lying lonely and awake in the dark, they were voices gibbering in the darkness. Their feet sc-scurried closer -- closer! -- and then -- retreated, only to come again. They touched my face. It was more horrible than the touch of a dead hand. I've never got over that feeling. Ever since that night I've lain awake and screamed soundlessly for hours whenever I heard the small pattering feet of a rat. (PAUSE AS HE BREATHES AND SLOWLY RECOVERS) I'm all right now.

JULIA:

(CHANGES THE SUBJECT, OFF) Er, darling--?

WINSTON:

Eh?

JULIA:

Darling, what's this picture? I've seen it somewhere before.

WINSTON:

Oh, it's-- It's a church. Or at least it used to be. St Clement Danes. Mr. Charrington taught me a rhyme about it. "Oranges and lemons / say the bells of St Clements."

JULIA:

(CLOSER, CHEERFUL SING-SONG) "You owe me three farthings / say the bells of St. Martin's."

WINSTON:

(DELIGHTED) Julia, you know it! Go on, please! Go on.

JULIA:

"When will you pay me / say the bells of Old Bailey." I forget the next line, but then it ends--

JULIA & WINSTON:

"Here comes a candle to light you to bed / and here comes a chopper to chop off your head." (THEY LAUGH HAPPILY)

WINSTON:

(BEAT) Julia--?

JULIA:

Yes, darling?

WINSTON:

You know, I have the strangest feeling about that silly little rhyme.

JULIA:

What sort of a feeling?

WINSTON:

As if everybody connected with it were someone who could make us happy. As if-- As if I hope the next person to recite it would be -- O'Brien.

JULIA:

(SURPRISED) O'Brien?

WINSTON:

Yes. I told you he spoke to me again in the lift yesterday. He wants us to go up to his flat.

JULIA:

(WITH DISAPPROVAL) Oh, darling, must we really?

WINSTON:

But he's one of us.

JULIA:

No! He may hate Big Brother and the Party and all the rest. But, darling, that doesn't make him one of us. Oh, Winston, we're two people. We make love together and we talk together and we drink tea together. O'Brien has no part in that!

WINSTON:

But don't you see? As we are now, we're alone. If we join O'Brien and his Brotherhood, we won't be alone.

JULIA:

We'll still be arrested in the long run!

WINSTON:

But that's not the important thing!

JULIA:

The important thing to me is this room, and what we do here, and how we live here, and the joy we have. We don't need O'Brien to keep us alive!

WINSTON:

It's not being alive that counts. It's being human, and being human means you share your living -- and your hoping, and your fearing -- with other people.

JULIA:

(SCORNFUL) The Party is only too happy to have you share!

WINSTON:

But not the human things. Only the inhuman ones. I want to think there's a hope we could all be as human as we two are now. That's why I want to see O'Brien.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

O'BRIEN:

I know your names; you know mine; I'm O'Brien. We may dispense with introductions. Pardon me while I switch off the telescreen.

WINSTON:

Can you really switch it off?

O'BRIEN:

(MOVING OFF) Members of the Inner Party have that privilege.

SOUND:

SHARP SNAP! AS TELESCREEN SHUTS OFF

WINSTON:

(HESITANT) We--? We are--? Uh, we are--?

O'BRIEN:

(APPROACHES) Alone? Yes. Yes, we're quite alone.

WINSTON:

I-- (BRISKLY) Well, Julia and I believe that there is some kind of a secret organization working against the Party. We believe that you are involved in it. We want to join it and work for it. We are enemies of the Party. We are ... living together. We are thought-criminals. I tell you this because it puts us at your mercy and you will know that we are telling the truth. If you wish, we will sign a statement.

O'BRIEN:

(BEAT) There is such an organization. Its leader is Emmanuel Goldstein, whom you know of.

WINSTON: Yes, but we thought-- We were afraid that Goldstein and - and the conspiracy were invented by the Thought Police.

O'BRIEN:

No, they exist. But what are you both prepared to do to help the conspiracy?

WINSTON:

Anything we are capable of.

O'BRIEN:

You're prepared to give your lives?

JULIA & WINSTON:

Yes.

O'BRIEN:

To commit murder?

JULIA & WINSTON:

Yes.

O'BRIEN:

To betray your country?

JULIA & WINSTON:

Yes.

O'BRIEN:

To cheat, forge, blackmail, corrupt the minds of children?

JULIA & WINSTON:

Yes.

O'BRIEN:

You're prepared to commit suicide if ordered to do so?

JULIA & WINSTON:

Yes.

O'BRIEN:

You're prepared to separate and never see each other again?

JULIA:

(DISMAYED) No!

O'BRIEN:

(BEAT) It's just as well to understand these things right at the beginning. You understand you'll be fighting in the dark? You'll receive orders and obey them without knowing why. Sooner or later you'll be caught and tortured, and you will die. You will never know whether your work has served a single good purpose. We -- and you now -- are the dead. Our only true life is in the future. A thousand years away perhaps, but if in that thousand years we extend the frontiers of sanity even a little, we shall have done well. (BEAT, CLEARS THROAT) You have a hiding-place?

WINSTON:

Yes, in the Old Quarter. A room over an antique shop. The proprietor is called Charrington.

O'BRIEN:

That will do for the moment. Later we shall make other arrangements; give you more definite instructions. Now it is time for you to leave.

WINSTON:

Then we are accepted?

O'BRIEN:

Yes, you are accepted.

WINSTON:

(EXHALES GRATEFULLY)

O'BRIEN:

Have you any more questions?

WINSTON:

Only one. Do you know an old rhyme called "The Bells of St Clement's"?

O'BRIEN:

(SURPRISED) Yes, I think so.
(RECITES, PLEASANTLY)
"Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St Clement's,
You owe me three farthings, say the bells of St Martin's,
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey,
When I grow rich, say the bells of Shoreditch."

JULIA & WINSTON:

(DURING ABOVE, THEY GASP AND EXHALE WITH PLEASURE & RELIEF)

WINSTON:

(ECSTATIC) You know it! You know it! You know all of it! I told you he'd know it, Julia, didn't I?!

MUSIC:

TRIUMPHANT, ROMANTIC BRIDGE

WINSTON:

Oh, Julia-- (EXHALES, YAWNS)

JULIA:

(YAWNS) What, darling?

WINSTON:

It's nearly time to get up.

JULIA:

Oh, I don't want to get up.

WINSTON:

Neither do I. (BEAT) You know what I was remembering just then?

JULIA:

Hm? No.

WINSTON:

Do you remember that thrush that sang to us the first day in the woods?

JULIA:

Oh, he wasn't singing for us; just himself. (CHUCKLES) Not even that. He was just singing.

WINSTON:

That's what I mean. I wonder if we will ever see the day when we'll be just "just singing."

JULIA:

No, I doubt it. (BEAT) What did O'Brien say?

WINSTON:

"We are the dead."

JULIA:

(CONTEMPLATIVE, SLOW) We are the dead.

TELESCREEN:

You are the dead!

JULIA:

(INHALES SHARPLY)

WINSTON:

(PUZZLED) What?

JULIA:

(TERRIFIED) It - it came from behind the picture!

WINSTON:

Huh?

TELESCREEN:

Behind the picture -- yes.

SOUND:

LOUD SNAP! OF PAINTING COMING LOOSE FROM WALL ... CRASH! OF BROKEN GLASS AS FRAME FALLS TO FLOOR

WINSTON:

(STARTLED EXCLAMATION)

JULIA:

(GASPS)

TELESCREEN:

Now you can be seen! You are the dead!

WINSTON:

A telescreen -- behind the picture! Julia!

TELESCREEN:

Stay where you are!

WINSTON:

(CONFUSED) What?

TELESCREEN:

Don't touch each other. Clasp your hands behind your heads. (BEAT) Now stand back to back.

WINSTON:

(WHIMPERS)

JULIA:

I suppose we may as well say good-bye.

TELESCREEN:

(AGREES, GRIMLY) You may as well ... say good-bye.

SOUND:

ROOM DOOR OPENS

CHARRINGTON:

(MERRILY) And while we're on the subject. (CHEERFUL SING-SONG) "Here comes a candle to light you to bed, / Here comes a chopper to chop - off - your - head!"

WINSTON:

(SURPRISED) Mr. Charrington--?

JULIA:

(BLOODCURDLING SCREAM) Nooooo!

MUSIC:

GRIM SECOND ACT CURTAIN

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

ANNCR:

Vincent Price's leading lady in his latest film -- Columbia's "The Mad Magician," now showing in Sydney -- is radiant youthful Mary Murphy. Mary's a typical outdoor girl. She likes horseback riding, ice-skating, and swimming. She loves to feel the sharp sting of fresh air against her cheeks. And yet her skin is smooth, satiny, and glowing. How does she keep her complexion free from the biting damage of water and wind? Mary Murphy says--

WOMAN:

Lux Toilet Soap care makes a wonderful difference in my skin. It makes skin look softer, dewier. You'll find it will make you lovelier, too.

ANNCR:

Like nine out of every ten film stars, Mary Murphy uses only pure white Lux Toilet Soap. She knows she can trust the beauty of her complexion to Lux Toilet Soap, because it's so mild, so gentle. That snowy whiteness is the outward proof of its great inward purity. Follow the advice of lovely Mary Murphy. Use only pure white Lux Toilet Soap and you, too, will have a glowing radiant film star complexion. That's the promise of Lux Toilet Soap.

HOST:

And now Act III of "Nineteen Eighty-Four," starring Vincent Price as Winston Smith.

MUSIC:

SAD AND LONELY THIRD ACT INTRODUCTION ... BRIEF, THEN BEHIND NARRATOR--

NARRATOR:

Nineteen Eighty-Four, the year of the revolt of Winston Smith against Big Brother, and the Party of Big Brother. It had been a bloodless revolt -- bloodless and small and secret, in a mahogany bed in a fusty upstairs room. The issue had been decided before the thought was conceived or the act begun. But even now Winston Smith had no certainty where he was. His world was a windowless room with walls of white porcelain flooded with light from hidden lamps, stark under the scrutiny of four telescreens from which every motion was visible. He was more lonely than he had ever been in his life, and yet he was not alone.

PARSONS:

Can I talk?

WINSTON:

(CALM, CAUTIOUS) There is still the telescreens, Parsons.

PARSONS:

(FEIGNS SERVILITY AND CALM FOR THE TELESCREENS, BUT WITH NOTES OF HYSTERIA CREEPING INTO HIS DIALOGUE) Oh, I don't mind those. I have nothing to hide; nothing at all.

WINSTON:

What are you in for?

PARSONS:

Thoughtcrime. You wouldn't think it possible, would you? You don't think they'll shoot me, do you, old chap? I - I mean, they don't shoot you if you haven't actually done anything. I know they give you a fair hearing. They'll know my record, won't they? You know what kind of a chap I was -- not brainy, of course, but keen. (BEAT) I'll get off with five years, don't you think? (NO ANSWER) Or ten? A chap like me could make himself pretty useful in a labour camp.

WINSTON:

Are you guilty?

PARSONS:

Oh, yes. Oh, yes, I'm guilty. You don't think the Party would arrest an innocent man, do you? Thoughtcrime is a dreadful thing, old man. It's insidious. Do you know how it got hold of me? In my sleep. Yes, that's a fact. Never knew I had a bad streak in me, and yet, there it was.

WINSTON:

How did you find out?

PARSONS:

I started talking in my sleep. (AMUSED CHUCKLE) Yes. They heard me shouting "Down with Big Brother!"

WINSTON:

Who denounced you?

PARSONS:

Well, actually it was my little daughter. (QUICKLY, PROUDLY) She listened at the keyhole and heard it; nipped off and told the patrols next day. Pretty smart, eh? And she's only seven. (LOUD AND A LITTLE DESPERATE) But that's the sort of thing I mean. They'll understand that I trained my children properly! They'll take that into consideration, won't they?!

SOUND:

METAL CELL DOOR UNLOCKS AND SLIDES OPEN

GUARD:

Parsons?!

PARSONS:

Yes? Yes. (SERVILE) Just tell me what you want done; I'll cooperate; you won't have any trouble with me.

GUARD:

Room One-Oh-One!

PARSONS:

(BEAT, DISMAYED) Oh. Yes.

SOUND:

PARSONS EXITS ... METAL CELL DOOR SLIDES SHUT AND LOCKS

INNER VOICE:

So -- you're alone again.

PRISONER:

(WHIMPERING)

INNER VOICE:

Alone except for that whimpering thing in this gleaming aseptic world of the Ministry of Love. It's not a new experience, this solitude. You're not too afraid, are you?

WINSTON:

Yes, I am afraid. I am afraid of this procession of frightened men with broken bodies and terrified eyes. I don't know whether that's part of the treatment, too.

INNER VOICE:

Yes, it's all part of the treatment. Keep reminding yourself of that. The lightest word, the least calculated gesture is all part of the treatment. There is no mercy, there is no kindness, there is no intermission of misery. It is all part of the treatment.

SOUND:

METAL CELL DOOR UNLOCKS AND SLIDES OPEN

GUARD:

Come on, you! We can't wait any longer!

WINSTON:

Me?

GUARD:

No, not you! This! (TO PRISONER) Come on! (WITH EFFORT) On your feet!

PRISONER:

(GIBBERING) Wh-wh-where are you taking me?

GUARD:

Room One-Oh-One!

PRISONER:

No! No! I'll do anything but that. You've been starving me for weeks. Finish it off and let me die. Shoot me! Hang me! Take my family and - and cut their throats! But don't take me there!

GUARD:

(SAVAGELY) Room One-Oh-One!

PRISONER:

No! Nooooo!

SOUND:

GUARD SMACKS PRISONER AND DRAGS HIM AWAY

PRISONER:

(SCREAMS HORRIBLY, MOVING OFF)

WINSTON:

(GROANS WITH REVULSION)

SOUND:

METAL CELL DOOR SLIDES SHUT AND LOCKS

WINSTON:

(GROANS)

TELESCREEN:

Smith!

WINSTON:

Hm?

TELESCREEN:

Take your hands away from your face!

WINSTON:

(EXHALES)

TELESCREEN:

It's forbidden to cover your face in the cells!

INNER VOICE:

Take hold of yourself now. That's part of the treatment, too. Everything's part of the treatment. But so long as you still have those few cubic centimetres inside your skull, you're still a man! You're still stronger than they.

SOUND:

METAL CELL DOOR UNLOCKS AND SLIDES OPEN

O'BRIEN:

(APPROACHES) Hello, Smith.

WINSTON:

O'Brien?

O'BRIEN:

That's right.

WINSTON:

So they got you, too?

O'BRIEN:

Oh, they got me a long time ago.

WINSTON:

You mean -- you are one of them?

O'BRIEN:

Don't deceive yourself, Winston. You knew this a long time ago now, didn't you? You've always known it.

WINSTON:

(STAMMERS) I - I - I--

O'BRIEN:

I told you myself we should meet like this -- in the place where there is no darkness.

WINSTON:

Now that we have met--?

O'BRIEN:

We are going to make a new man of you, Winston. A new man. (A SHARP ORDER) Take him!

SOUND:

GUARD SMACKS WINSTON

WINSTON:

(SCREAMS IN PAIN)

MUSIC:

BRIDGE ... SEGUES TO--

SOUND:

HUM OF MACHINERY ... THEN IN BG

WINSTON:

(WHIMPERS IN PAIN ... THEN IN BG)

O'BRIEN:

You see how it is, Winston. Pain itself and suffering is no longer a chance; an accident. It's a calculated process -- something measured, and graduated, and controlled. We are not medieval butchers probing for the nerve roots. We're masters of this more subtle of sciences. Look! There is a dial upon which your agony is measured. There is a lever by which I can increase or diminish it.

SOUND:

HUM OF MACHINERY ... SURGES OMINOUSLY ... THEN IN BG

WINSTON:

(SCREAMS IN PAIN ... THEN IN BG)

O'BRIEN:

But it is not I who inflicts this pain on you, Winston. It is you yourself. You understand that, don't you? You've always understood that.

SOUND:

HUM OF MACHINERY ... SURGES OMINOUSLY ... THEN IN BG

WINSTON:

(SCREAMS IN PAIN ... THEN IN BG)

O'BRIEN:

Winston, you are suffering the pain of rebirth -- the rebirth of sanity. You must be born again. You know that, don't you?

SOUND:

HUM OF MACHINERY ... SURGES OMINOUSLY ... THEN IN BG

WINSTON:

(SCREAMS, GASPS, HOLLERS IN PAIN ... CONTINUES IN BG)

O'BRIEN:

(A RAPID-FIRE EXCHANGE) Look at my hand, Winston. How many fingers do you see?

WINSTON:

Two!

O'BRIEN:

And on this hand?

WINSTON:

Two!

O'BRIEN:

Put them together. Two and two. What does that make?

WINSTON:

Four!

O'BRIEN:

And if the Party says two and two make not four, but five, what then?

WINSTON:

There's still four!

SOUND:

HUM OF MACHINERY ... SURGES OMINOUSLY ... THEN IN BG

WINSTON:

(SCREAMS IN PAIN ... THEN IN BG)

O'BRIEN:

How many fingers, Winston?

WINSTON:

Four! Four! What else can I say?! Four! Four!

O'BRIEN:

How many fingers, Winston?!

WINSTON:

Four! Stop it! How can you go on? Four! Four!

O'BRIEN:

How many fingers, Winston?!

WINSTON:

(RELENTS, SCREAMING IN PAIN) Fiiiiive! Fiiiiive! Fiiiiive! (WHIMPERS)

MUSIC:

SAVAGE BRIDGE

SOUND:

QUIET HUM OF MACHINERY ... HAS CONTINUED THROUGH THE BRIDGE ... THEN IN BG

O'BRIEN:

(QUIETLY) Do you know where you are, Winston?

WINSTON:

(WEAKLY) I don't know. I can guess. In the Ministry of Love.

O'BRIEN:

Do you know how long you've been here?

WINSTON:

I don't know. Days. Months. Years.

O'BRIEN:

Why did we bring you here?

WINSTON:

To punish me. To make me confess.

O'BRIEN:

No, Winston! Not that! Not the small tasks of punishment and confession. What could you tell us that we don't know already? What satisfaction do we draw from your stricken flesh?

WINSTON:

(WHIMPERS)

O'BRIEN:

Shall I tell you why we brought you here? To cure you.

WINSTON:

Cure me? Of love for a woman?

O'BRIEN:

Love? Love is a word; an obsolete word. There is no Love; only a biological act.

WINSTON:

Cure me of what then?

O'BRIEN:

Of false and foolish thinking! We don't want martyrs, Winston. We want disciples. Willing disciples. And when we've made you a willing disciple, then we shall destroy you.

WINSTON:

(BROKENLY) Then why do you go to the trouble to torture me?

O'BRIEN:

Because you are a flaw in a pattern, Winston. You're a stain that must be removed.

WINSTON:

But you've not told me why! Why?!

O'BRIEN:

No, Winston. You must tell me why.

WINSTON:

I--?

O'BRIEN:

The answer to that question is the measure of my whole success with you. It may be the key to your release from this small prison of great agony. You tell me why, Winston. Why do we do all these things?

WINSTON:

You - you are ruling over us for our own good. You believe that human beings are not fit for-- (SCREAMS IN PAIN, CONTINUES GIBBERING IN BG)

O'BRIEN:

(SAVAGELY) That's stupid! Stupid! Stupid, Winston! You deserve an eternity of pain for a folly like that! Now I will tell you why. The Party seeks power for its own sake. We are not interested in the good of others. We're interested only in power! Not wealth or luxury or long life; only in power, pure power! No one ever seizes power with the intention of giving it up. Power is not a means, it is an end in itself! The object of persecution is persecution! The object of torture is torture! Each is an exercise of power! A preying upon the nerve of agony until, one after another, all men are converted to our discipline! All men are submissive to a universal power!

WINSTON:

(EXPLODES DEFIANTLY) You'll never do it! You'll never do it! Never! Nev--! (WHIMPERS, GIBBERS, IN BG)

O'BRIEN:

(QUIETLY, GENTLY) We did it to you, Winston. Shall I show you in the mirror just what we have done to you? Shall I tell you that you're just a bag of bones? That you've lost all semblance of a man? That your hair and your teeth are falling out? That you are an offense to sight and to smell? We did that to you, Winston. Now -- two and two make--?

WINSTON:

(IN GREAT PAIN) Fiiiiiive! (WITH GREAT DETERMINATION) But I'll never betray Julia! You failed there. You couldn't make me betray her, could you? You failed, O'Brien! You failed! (WEAKLY) You-- You-you-you -- failed.

O'BRIEN:

No, we never fail, Winston.

WINSTON:

Yes, you did. Yes, you did.

O'BRIEN:

Never. We cannot afford to fail. (A SAVAGE ORDER) Take him to Room One-Oh-One!

MUSIC:

OMINOUS WHIRLWIND BRIDGE

WINSTON:

(TO HIMSELF, BROKENLY) So this is the end of horror -- this small room down in the bowels of the earth. I'm strapped to the chair -- tightly -- so tightly! -- that I cannot move. I cannot retreat inside my skull case. That does not belong to me any more. It has been entered and possessed and gassed by O'Brien. There is no retreat left any more. I am faced now with the ultimate agony. I am in Room One-Oh-One.

O'BRIEN:

(MATTER-OF-FACT) You asked me once, Winston, what was in Room One-Oh-One. You knew the answer, though you wouldn't admit it. Everybody knows it really. The thing that is in Room One-Oh-One is the worst thing in the world. The worst thing in the world, of course, varies from person to person. For some it is burial alive. For some it is death by fire. For some it is quite a trivial thing. In your case, Winston, it is ... rats!

SOUND:

SQUEAK! OF RATS ... THEN IN BG

WINSTON:

(QUIET TERROR) Oh. Oh, no. Oh, take them away. Keep them away from me. You - you can't do this to me; you can't do this--

O'BRIEN:

You've not yet surrendered to me, Winston.

WINSTON:

(INCREASINGLY HYSTERICAL) Take them away. How can I surrender if I don't know what you want? I've answered all the questions, haven't I? I've learned all your lessons, haven't I? Take them away! Please! Take them away! (CONTINUES TO GIBBER IN BG, MUMBLING "I can't stand rats!" ET CETERA)

O'BRIEN:

The rats are starved, Winston! They will eat a man alive! I can use them on you, or I can use them on Julia. You have your choice now. Which?!

WINSTON:

(BEAT) Use them on Julia! I don't care! I don't care what you do! But don't let them near me! (WEAKLY) Don't - don't - don't-- Let Julia suffer now. Let her-- (CONTINUES TO GIBBER IN BG)

SOUND:

RATS STOP SQUEAKING

O'BRIEN:

(BEAT, SOOTHING) There now, Winston. It's over now. There isn't any more. It's all over now.

WINSTON:

(A FINAL WHIMPER)

MUSIC:

GRIM BRIDGE

NARRATOR:

And now there is a calm -- a great pervasive calm. You sit at your corner table in the café and fumble with the chessboard and sip your Victory Gin and scan the newspapers. You look out the window and watch the people go by. One day Julia passed. And something stirred in your mind for a moment. And then died again. There are so many people in this small corner, which they keep for you as warm and comfortable. When you finish the newspaper, you watch the telescreen. Strange that. In a life without struggles, without any hint of climax, that is the moment that comes nearest to emotion. The face of Big Brother flashes on the screen. You hear his rich full voice.

MUSIC:

FOR BIG BROTHER'S APPEARANCE ... BELLS AND TYMPANI ... GODLIKE GRANDEUR, THEN OUT

BIG BROTHER:

(FILTERED, WARMLY) My comrades. My brothers. We live in times of great peril. But have no fear. I am with you always. My care and my love reach out to you wherever you are.

WINSTON:

(DULLY) And we love you, Big Brother. We love you. We have erred; we've been punished; and you have taken us back. We love you, Big Brother - love you - love you - love you -

MUSIC:

CURTAIN

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

HOST:

Our star Vincent Price will join us in a moment. While we wait for him--

ANNCR:

Blue eyes, brown eyes--

WOMAN:

--redheads, blondes, and brunettes.

ANNCR:

There are beauties of a million varieties, but any beauty expert will tell you this.

WOMAN:

A woman can only be truly beautiful if she has clean, gleaming white teeth.

ANNCR:

White sparkling teeth must be free from the dingy film which gathers on them after every meal, hiding their natural brightness, and harboring decay-causing enzymes. To remove this dulling film, use Pepsodent. Pepsodent is the only toothpaste containing Irium, the wonder ingredient that wipes out film instantly and completely. Pepsodent gives you the brightest, whitest teeth--

WOMAN:

--the nicest, most radiant smile--

ANNCR:

--and Pepsodent tastes just fine. That cool peppermint flavor is the right flavor for everyone. Buy the large economy-size Pepsodent, the family size that saves you money. Make Pepsodent your one regular toothpaste--

WOMAN:

--starting from tomorrow.

HOST:

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to remind you that all Australian artists appearing in tonight's production are eligible for the Lux Hollywood Award, which at the end of our year of broadcast will take the Australian actor or actress judged to have given the best performance on a luxury flight to Hollywood in cooperation with Pan American World Airways. Pan American will fly the winning artist to California by luxury "President" service with stopovers at Fiji and Honolulu -- and while in Hollywood he or she will be heard coast-to-coast in Canada and the United States on a broadcast of the American Lux Radio Theatre.

MUSIC:

THEME ... FILLS A PAUSE ... THEN FADES OUT BEHIND ANNCR--

ANNCR:

The Lux Radio Theatre is produced by Sterling McEvoy. "Nineteen Eighty-Four" was adapted from George Orwell's novel by Morris West. Tonight's play was directed by Paul Jacklin. Heard in our cast were Lionel Stevens as O'Brien, Alexander Archdale as Charrington, Guy Dolman as Parsons, and Dorothea Dunstan, Gordon Chayter, Rupert Chance, Murray Powell, Leonard Bullen, and Alan Herbert. David Nettheim was heard as the narrator. Margo Lee played the role of Julia, and, as Winston Smith, you heard our distinguished Hollywood star, Vincent Price, who returns to our microphone now with Eric Pearce.

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

HOST:

Well, congratulations, Vincent, on a really splendid piece of work.

PRICE:

Thank you, Eric. If anybody had told me a month ago that I'd be starring in a radio broadcast in Australia, I just wouldn't have believed him.

HOST:

Well, you certainly got here in double-quick time.

PRICE:

Oh, you know, there's really nothing to it. Those Pan American Clippers are simply wonderful. You just step in at Los Angeles, have a few drinks, and step out in Sydney.

HOST:

Uh huh. Very nice, too. And did you stop over on the way here?

PRICE:

Oh, yeah, I almost forgot that. We had stopovers in Honolulu and Fiji. And, you know, I wrote all of my friends back home. Well, how often do you have a chance to write letters from the Fiji Islands?

HOST:

(CHUCKLES) Not very often. Tell me, Vincent, what's next in your itinerary?

PRICE:

Well, Eric, next month I'm starring at Paramount in Cecil B. DeMille's new color version of "The Ten Commandments."

HOST:

Oh, yes. I read only recently that they've had an advance unit out in Egypt for six months waiting for the right sort of thunderstorm so they can film the passage of the Red Sea.

PRICE:

(CHUCKLES)

HOST:

I think they ought to come to Sydney.

PRICE:

(CHUCKLES) Yes.

HOST:

It's certainly-- The film certainly should be spectacular.

PRICE:

Well, if I know Mr. DeMille, it's going to be spectacular.

HOST:

(CHUCKLES) About your current film, Vincent, that's showing here now--?

PRICE:

Oh, you mean "The Mad Mad Magician."

HOST:

Mm-hmm. You know you aren't the only magician in that film.

PRICE:

Oh, why not?

HOST:

Well, there was a young lady in it who quite bewitched me.

PRICE:

Oh, you mean Mary Murphy, my leading lady.

HOST:

I do. She's really lovely.

PRICE:

Of course she's lovely. She's a Lux girl. You know, there are plenty of beautiful stars in Hollywood and they all use Lux Toilet Soap.

HOST:

Ha ha! Vincent, I can see that we must have you back again.

PRICE:

(CHUCKLES) Well, you have only to ask. What are your future plans on the Lux Radio Theatre, Eric?

HOST:

Well, next week our star's a fellow countryman of yours -- Melvin Douglas. He's out here playing "Time Out for Ginger" at the Princess Theatre in Melbourne.

PRICE:

You know, Melvin is one of my very favorite actors. I'm sure you're gonna have a wonderful exciting show.

HOST:

Well, Vincent, it's been fine having you here and we'll all be looking forward to seeing you in "The Ten Commandments." Goodbye and have a wonderful flight home.

PRICE:

Goodbye, Eric, and goodbye, Australia.

SOUND:

APPLAUSE

MUSIC:

CLOSING THEME ... THEN IN BG

ANNCR:

One week from tonight, Lever Brothers -- makers of Lux Toilet Soap, Lux Flakes, and Pepsodent -- invites you to tune in when we present "Accent on Youth," starring Hollywood star Melvyn Douglas in person. Until then, this is the Lux Radio Theatre signing off from fifty stations throughout the Commonwealth of Australia.

MUSIC:

CLOSING THEME ...