MUSIC:

THEME (first movement of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto no. 1) ... UNDER

ANNOUNCER:

The makers of Campbell's Soups present the Campbell Playhouse -- Orson Welles, producer.

MUSIC:

THEME ... UP AND OUT ... THEN SOMETHING JAUNTY AND BRITISH FOR AN INTRO ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

HOST:

Good evening. This is Orson Welles. Tonight, we bring you a revival of one our favorite broadcasts -- Charlotte Brontë's unforgettable love story "Jane Eyre" and in the title role we proudly present a very gifted actress, a frequent and always welcome guest in the Campbell Playhouse, Miss Madeleine Carroll. But first, Ernest Chappell has an interesting conversation to report. Mr. Chappell? [X]

ANNOUNCER:

Thank you, Orson Welles.

You know, just this past week, I was talking to a man who, for a large part of his life, has been a globetrotter. In the course of our conversation he said to me--

"I heard you on the Campbell Playhouse last Sunday night refer to the universal liking for chicken. Well," he continued, "I believe I can vouch for that. I've discovered that chicken, prepared in one way or another, is among the best-liked dishes in every country I visited. In Hungary, I've enjoyed chicken paprika; in Italy, chicken cacciatore; I've eaten chicken pilau in Armenia, curried chicken in India, and sat down to chicken tamales south of the border."

Now, that comment of his struck me as highly interesting. With people the world around liking chicken so much, it's no wonder that Campbell's Chicken Soup is so popular. Because in every drop of the glistening, golden broth, you taste rich chicken flavor. And steeped in the good flavor of the chicken, too, is the fluffy white rice and there are pieces of tender chicken meat in every fragrant plateful.

If you've already enjoyed this homey, old-fashioned chicken soup as Campbell's make it, won't you remember to have it again soon? And, if you haven't yet tried it, won't you do so, say, at dinner tomorrow night? I promise you, just as sure you like chicken, you'll like Campbell's Chicken Soup.

And now our Campbell Playhouse presentation of "Jane Eyre," starring Madeleine Carroll and Orson Welles.

MUSIC:

INTRODUCTION ... UPBEAT AND BRITISH ... THEN INCREASINGLY MELLOW IN BG, GENTLY OUT DURING FOLLOWING--

HOST:

In the last ninety years, "Jane Eyre" has acquired the full respectability of an English classic and has lost none of its color. It began as one of those books which everybody read and no nice person would ever read. For "Jane Eyre," appearing in England as it did early in the reign of Queen Victoria, came as a general shock and was an immediate success -- as appalling and popular as a royal scandal and as widely circulated as gossip. Here's a contemporary press notice. Quote--

"Altogether the autobiography of Jane Eyre is preeminently an anti-Christian composition. There is throughout it a murmuring against the comforts of the rich and against the privations of the poor, which, as far as each individual is concerned, is a murmuring against God's appointment--there is a proud and perpetual assertion of the rights of man, for which we find no authority either in God's word or in God's providence. We do not hesitate to say that the tone of mind and thought which has overthrown authority abroad, and fostered rebellion at home is the same which has also written "Jane Eyre." Unquote.

The authorship of this scarlet indignity to English letters was variously attributed to almost everyone who could write except a certain Miss Charlotte Brontë of Yorkshire, who did write it in spite of that pen name Currer Bell, attributed with wild generosity to almost everybody in England, including the Devil, and Thackeray's governess, and even, among others, the perpetrator of "Wuthering Heights," who was indeed Miss Emily, another Brontë and Charlotte's sister.

The Brontës are a story in themselves -- several stories, many of which you know and most of which I wish we had time to tell. My own personal favorite in that mysterious, lonely, impoverished and entirely inexplicable family is the head of the household himself, the terrible-tempered Reverend Patrick Brontë, that gloomy man of God, who, we are told, cleared the Brontë drawing-room of visitors who happened to bore him by firing a revolver at the Brontë ceiling. But there's no end to these Brontë stories so let's get to the beginning of Miss Charlotte's own.

MUSIC:

WISTFUL INTRODUCTION ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) My name is Jane Eyre. I have no father or mother, brothers or sisters. As a child, I lived with my aunt, Mrs. Reed, at Gateshead Hall. I do not remember that she ever spoke one kind word to me. [X] When I was ten years old, she sent me off to school.

BROCKLEHURST:

(CHEERFULLY PIOUS) So, Mrs. Reed, this is the little girl respecting whom you applied to me. Her size is small. What is your name, little girl?

YOUNG JANE:

Jane Eyre.

BROCKLEHURST:

(CORRECTS HER) Oh ho -- say, "Jane Eyre, Mr. Brocklehurst," little girl.

YOUNG JANE:

Jane Eyre, Mr. Brocklehurst.

BROCKLEHURST:

Well, Jane Eyre, are you a good child? No sight so sad as that of a naughty child, especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?

YOUNG JANE:

They go to hell.

BROCKLEHURST:

Huh! Well! And what must you do to avoid going to hell?

YOUNG JANE:

I must keep in good health, and not die.

BROCKLEHURST:

(CHORTLES) And how can you keep in good health? Children younger than you die daily. Tell me, Jane Eyre, do you read the Bible?

YOUNG JANE:

Sometimes.

BROCKLEHURST:

With pleasure?

YOUNG JANE: No, sir.

BROCKLEHURST:

No? Oh, how shocking! I have a little boy, younger than you, who knows six Psalms by heart, and when you ask him which he'd rather have, a gingerbread-nut to eat or a verse of a Psalm to learn, he always says, "Oh! A verse of a Psalm! Angels sing Psalms," says he, "I wish to be a little angel here below." He then gets two gingerbread-nuts in return for his infant piety! (CHUCKLES, PLEASED WITH HIMSELF)

YOUNG JANE:

Psalms are not interesting.

BROCKLEHURST:

(ABRUPTLY GRIM AND THREATENING) That proves you have a wicked heart; and you must pray God to change it, and to give you a new and clean one, and to take away your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And we'll try our best to help God -- will we not, Mrs. Reed? -- and make you a useful and humble girl.

MUSIC:

BRIEF BRISK BRIDGE ... OUT BEHIND--

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I left Gateshead Hall on a dark cold morning for Lowood. As the coach started, I put out my head and looked back at the house and up at the window behind which my aunt was still sleeping.

YOUNG JANE:

(PASSIONATE) I'm glad you're sending me away, Mrs. Reed, for I hate to live here with you! And if any one asks me how I liked you, and how you treated me, I will always say you treated me with miserable cruelty and that the very sight of you makes me sick!

MUSIC:

RAMBUNCTIOUS BRIDGE ... THEN MELLOWER, IN BG

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I spent eight years at Lowood. It was not so much a school as an institution for the children of the poor, supported by charitable bequests. Soon after I was eighteen, I placed an advertisement in the Yorkshire Herald, applying for the position of governess. The following week a reply came from a Mrs. Fairfax of Thornfield Hall, near Millcote, in Yorkshire.

MRS. FAIRFAX:

If J.E., who advertised last Thursday, is qualified to teach the usual branches of a good English education, together with French, Drawing, and Music, and if she is in a position to give satisfactory references of character and competency, a situation can be offered her where there is but one pupil, a little girl, nine years of age.

MUSIC:

FILLS A BRIEF PAUSE ... THEN OUT BEHIND--

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) Three days later, I left Lowood School. I arose and dressed myself with care. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I regretted that I was not handsomer. I felt it a misfortune to be so little, pale, and with features so irregular and so marked. I brushed my hair very smooth, put on my black frock, adjusted my clean white tucker; then I set out for my new situation.

MUSIC:

ANOTHER RAMBUNCTIOUS BRIDGE

SOUND:

HORSES HOOVES ... BRIEFLY CLATTER, THEN SLOW TO A STOP

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) On the evening of the next day, I was at Thornfield Hall.

MUSIC:

BRIEFLY WISTFUL ... THEN IN BG

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I was ushered into a small room. At a table by a cheerful fire, sat the neatest imaginable little old lady, occupied in knitting.

MRS. FAIRFAX:

How do you do, my dear? I'm afraid you've had a tedious ride.

JANE EYRE:

Are you Mrs. Fairfax?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

You are right. Now sit down here before this fire here. You must be tired to death.

JANE EYRE:

Oh, no, indeed, ma'am. Shall I have the pleasure of seeing Miss Fairfax to-night?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

What did you say, my dear? I am a little deaf.

JANE EYRE:

(LOUDER) Shall I have the pleasure of seeing Miss Fairfax to-night?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

Oh. Oh, you mean your pupil, Adele. Oh, she is not my daughter.

JANE EYRE:

Indeed?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

I have no family.

JANE EYRE:

And you have this great house, all alone?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

Oh, bless you, my dear child. This house is not mine. It belongs to Mr. Rochester.

JANE EYRE:

And who is he?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

The owner of Thornfield Hall. Did you not know he was called Rochester? He is our employer. He owns the house and much of the land about. I'm merely the housekeeper. Your pupil is his ward. He wrote to me to find a governess for her.

JANE EYRE:

He's not here himself?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

Almost never. Much of the time he's abroad.

JANE EYRE:

It seems strange for a gentleman to own this great house yet never stop here and enjoy it.

MRS. FAIRFAX:

You will find, Miss Eyre, that Mr. Rochester is, in many ways, a strange gentleman.

MUSIC:

UP, FOR AN OMINOUS ACCENT ... THEN OUT BEHIND--

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I slept smooth and soundly that night in my new home. Once, I woke, and heard a clock strike.

SOUND:

CLOCK STRIKES TWO, OFF

BERTHA:

(A FULL FIFTEEN SECONDS OF DISTANT, ECHOING MANIACAL LAUGHTER ... THEN CONTINUES IN BG)

MUSIC:

UNEASY, IN BG

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I heard another sound. Perhaps I was still half-asleep and dreaming. It seemed to me that, somewhere in the house, I heard a low, mirthless laugh.

BERTHA:

(MANIACAL LAUGHTER, ABRUPTLY LOUDER, ALMOST SCREAMING, THEN FADING OUT WITH--)

MUSIC:

PEAKS WITH THE LAUGHTER, THEN SUBSIDES AND CHANGES TO A WISTFUL BRIDGE ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) When I woke, it was bright day and the sun was shining. And then, for many weeks, nothing happened to break the smooth course of our lives at Thornfield Hall.

One day in January -- a fine, calm day -- I put on my coat and went out for a walk. As I started back, the afternoon was already dimming. On the hill-top above me sat the rising moon, pale as a cloud. I walked fast to get home. A sheet of ice covered the bridge where a little brook had overflowed after a rapid thaw. Suddenly, in the distance, I heard the sound of hooves. [X] A horseman came over the hill, down toward the little bridge.

SOUND:

DURING ABOVE, HORSE'S HOOVES APPROACH AT A GALLOP DOWN A HILL ... THEN HORSE GALLOPS ONTO THE WOODEN BRIDGE ... BARKING DOG ... IN BG

ROCHESTER:

(YELLS AT HORSE, OVER ABOVE SOUNDS) Easy! Easy, there!

SOUND:

HORSE SLIPS ON ICE, ROCHESTER FALLS OFF ... DOG KEEPS BARKING ... NERVOUS HORSE SHUFFLES AND SNUFFLES

ROCHESTER:

(CURSING) The devil!

JANE EYRE:

Are you injured, sir?

ROCHESTER:

(BRUSQUE, TO JANE) Stand on one side; further away! (TO DOG) Down, Pilot! (TO HORSE) Easy, there!

SOUND:

HORSE AND DOG GROW QUIET ... ROCHESTER STUMBLES

ROCHESTER:

(IN PAIN, BUT MOSTLY ANNOYED) Ah, my leg!

SOUND:

ROCHESTER LIMPS AROUND, BEHIND--

JANE EYRE:

If you are hurt, and want help, sir, I can fetch a carriage from Thornfield Hall.

ROCHESTER:

(CURT) Thank you; I shall do; I've no broken bones, only a sprain. Go along, child; leave me alone.

JANE EYRE:

I wouldn't think of leaving you, sir, at so late an hour, till I see you are fit to mount your horse again.

ROCHESTER:

I should think you ought to be home yourself, if you have a home in the neighbourhood; where do you come from?

JANE EYRE:

From just below. I'm not at all afraid of being out late when it is moonlight.

ROCHESTER:

You live just below? You mean in the house with the battlements?

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Whose house is it?

JANE EYRE:

Mr. Rochester's.

ROCHESTER:

Do you know Mr. Rochester?

JANE EYRE:

No, I have never seen him.

ROCHESTER:

He's not resident, then?

JANE EYRE:

No.

ROCHESTER:

Can you tell me where he is?

JANE EYRE:

I cannot. I'm told he's at Thornfield very rarely.

ROCHESTER:

Well, you're not a servant at the hall, of course. You're--?

JANE EYRE:

I am the governess to Mr. Rochester's ward.

ROCHESTER:

(TO HIMSELF) The governess! Deuce take it, if I hadn't forgotten the governess. (TO JANE) Well, I can't send you to fetch help, but you may be able to help me yourself, if you'll be so kind.

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir.

ROCHESTER:

You've not an umbrella that I can use as a stick?

JANE EYRE:

No.

ROCHESTER:

Excuse me; necessity compels me to make you useful. Here, come close, let me lean on your shoulder. (WITH EFFORT) Now, hold the bridle. Here we are!

SOUND:

ROCHESTER CLIMBS ON HORSE ... HORSE SHUFFLES A LITTLE, IN AGREEMENT WITH FOLLOWING--

ROCHESTER:

Thank you. Uh, just hand me my whip, which lies there under the hedge.

JANE EYRE:

(WITH SLIGHT EFFORT) Here, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Thank you!

SOUND:

HORSE GALLOPS OFF ... FROM WOODEN BRIDGE TO PATH

ROCHESTER:

(MOVING OFF) Goodbye, child! Goodbye!

MUSIC:

SWEEPS IN DURING ABOVE ... FOR A GRAND DEPARTURE ... THEN OUT

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) As I walked back to Thornfield, I kept seeing his tall figure enveloped in a riding cloak, fur collared and steel clasped, remembering his stern face, his angry, thwarted eyes.

MUSIC:

SOMBER ... THEN IN BG

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) It was late when I got back to the hall.

SOUND:

DOG BARKS BRIEFLY

JANE EYRE:

Mrs. Fairfax! What dog is that?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

He came with the master.

JANE EYRE:

With whom?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

With the master, Mr. Rochester. He's just arrived. He's in the dining room and John has gone for a surgeon. Master's had an accident. His horse fell coming down Hay Lane. He sent for you, Jane, and was surprised when I told him you were out.

JANE EYRE:

Did he say anything about--?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

He said you were to go to him the minute you came in. You'd better hurry.

SOUND:

JANE'S FOOTSTEPS TO DOOR ... SHE KNOCKS

ROCHESTER:

(FROM BEHIND DOOR) Come in!

MUSIC:

FILLS PAUSE AS JANE ENTERS ROOM ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I knew him at once, with his broad, dark brows, his square forehead and grim mouth. When he looked up, I could see no trace of recognition in his eyes. [X]

ROCHESTER:

Well, Miss Eyre, I have questioned your pupil, my little ward; found you've taken great pains with her. She's not bright, she has no talents; yet in a short time she's made much improvement. Sit down, Miss Eyre, come to the fire. (AN ORDER) Adele, go amuse yourself with the dog. (BEAT, TO JANE) You've been resident in my house three months, Miss Eyre?

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir.

ROCHESTER:

You come from--?

JANE EYRE:

From Lowood School, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Mmm, a charitable concern. How long were you there?

JANE EYRE:

Eight years.

ROCHESTER:

Eight years! You must be tenacious of life. No wonder you have the look of another world, Miss Eyre. I marvelled where you'd got that sort of a face. I had half a mind just now in Hay Lane to demand whether you'd bewitched my horse; I'm not sure yet. Who are your parents?

JANE EYRE:

I have none.

ROCHESTER:

Never had, I suppose; do you remember them?

JANE EYRE:

No, Mr. Rochester.

ROCHESTER:

Who recommended you to come here to Thornfield?

JANE EYRE:

I advertised, and Mrs. Fairfax answered my advertisement.

ROCHESTER:

Oh, yes, Mrs. Fairfax speaks quite well of you. Praise will not bias me; you began by throwing down my horse.

JANE EYRE:

Sir?!

ROCHESTER:

I have to thank you for this sprain. Well, what age were you, Miss Eyre, when you went to Lowood?

JANE EYRE:

About ten.

ROCHESTER:

Stayed there eight years; you're now about eighteen; arithmetic is useful. (CHUCKLES) Tell me, what did you learn at Lowood? Can you play?

JANE EYRE:

A little.

ROCHESTER:

Of course; the established answer. (AN ORDER) Sit down at the piano, Miss Eyre. (POLITELY) I mean, if you please. Excuse my tone of command; I cannot alter my customary habits for a new inmate. Sit down at the piano and play a tune.

JANE EYRE:

Very well, sir.

MUSIC:

JANE PLAYS A LITTLE PIANO, NOT TERRIBLY WELL ... OUT BEHIND--

ROCHESTER:

Enough, enough, enough, Miss Eyre! That's enough. That's-- You play a little, I see; like any other English school-girl; perhaps better than some, but not well. (BEAT) Are you happy when you play?

JANE EYRE:

I am absorbed, sir.

ROCHESTER:

So absorbed, Miss Eyre, that you have let Adele sit up past her bedtime. (BEAT) Good-night! (BEAT, TO OTHER SERVANTS) Good-night to all of you now.

MUSIC:

SOMBER BRIDGE ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) For several days I did not see Mr. Rochester. Then, one evening, he sent for me to come down. [X]

ROCHESTER:

Come in, Miss Eyre; be seated. (BEAT) Don't draw that chair further off, Miss Eyre! Sit down exactly where I placed it -- if you please. Otherwise, I cannot see you without disturbing my position in this comfortable chair, which I have no mind to do. Uh-- Hmm, you examine me, Miss Eyre; do you think me handsome?

JANE EYRE:

No, sir.

ROCHESTER:

(AMUSED) No? Upon my word, there's something singular about you. You're very quaint, quiet, grave, and simple. You sit there with your hands before you, and your eyes generally bent on the carpet -- except, by the way, when they are directed piercingly to my face; as just now, for instance. When one asks you a question, you rap out a rejoinder, which is, if not blunt, at least brusque. (SHARP) What do you mean by it?

JANE EYRE:

(NERVOUS) Sir, I speak too plain; I beg your pardon. I ought to have replied that - that tastes differ; that, er, beauty is of little consequence, or something of that sort.

ROCHESTER:

You should have replied no such thing! Beauty of little consequence, indeed. Go on; what faults do you find with me, pray? I suppose I have all my limbs and all my features like any other man?

JANE EYRE:

I am sorry, Mr. Rochester, forgive me; it was only a blunder.

ROCHESTER:

Just so; I think so; and you shall be answerable for it. Now-- Miss Eyre, criticise me. Does my forehead not please you? Does it look as if am I a fool?

JANE EYRE:

Far from it, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Young lady, I even have a kind of rude tenderness of heart. (CHUCKLES) Or don't you believe that? (NO ANSWER) Well, why don't you answer me? You look very much puzzled, Miss Eyre. You're not pretty any more than I'm handsome, yet a puzzled air becomes you; so puzzle on. You puzzled me the first evening I invited you down here. I've almost forgotten you since; other ideas have driven you from my head; but to-night I have resolved to be at ease. It would please me now to draw you out -- to learn more of you. Therefore speak. (NO RESPONSE) Speak!

JANE EYRE:

What about, sir?

ROCHESTER:

Whatever you like. I leave the choice of subject and the manner of treating it entirely to you. (NO RESPONSE) You're dumb, Miss Eyre, or stubborn. Yes, stubborn and a little annoyed. (CONTRITE) And it's my fault, Miss Eyre. I put my request in an absurd and almost insulting form. Miss Eyre, I beg your pardon. Very sorry. (SUDDENLY) Where are you going, Miss Eyre?

JANE EYRE:

To put Adele to bed; it's past her bedtime.

ROCHESTER:

Confess it -- you're afraid of me.

JANE EYRE:

I am bewildered.

ROCHESTER:

You're afraid -- your self-love dreads a blunder.

JANE EYRE:

I have no wish to talk nonsense.

ROCHESTER:

If you did it, you would do it in such a grave, quiet manner, I should mistake it for sense. Do you never laugh, Miss Eyre? Don't trouble to answer. Still bent on going?

JANE EYRE:

It is past nine, sir. Good-night.

ROCHESTER:

(GRACIOUS, LIGHTLY) Good-night. (MORE SERIOUS) Good-night, Miss Eyre.

MUSIC:

BROODING BRIDGE ... THEN THOUGHTFUL, IN BG, OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I had no rest that night. I could not sleep for thinking of Mr. Rochester -- his strange manner of speaking, the sad look that was in his eyes, his moodiness with others, his kindness to me. He had been at Thornfield six days now. Mrs. Fairfax said that he never stayed there more than a fortnight. In a few days, he'd be gone again. [X]

BERTHA:

(MORE THAN FIFTEEN SECONDS OF DISTANT, ECHOING MANIACAL LAUGHTER)

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I lay there, listening.

MUSIC:

EERIE ... THEN IN BG

SOUND:

SCRAPE OF FINGERNAILS AGAINST DOOR ... OUT BEHIND--

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) Then it seemed my door was touched; as if fingers were groping their way along the panels in the dark gallery outside. (SHOUTS, SCARED) Who's there?! Who is it?!

MUSIC:

FILLS AN EERIE PAUSE ... THEN IN BG

BERTHA:

(BLOODCURDLING SCREECHING! VERY CLOSE!)

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) Quickly, I got out of bed. I hurried on my frock and shawl. With trembling hands, I opened the door.

SOUND: DOOR CREAKS OPEN

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) The air was filled with smoke. There was a strong smell of burning! Mr. Rochester's door was ajar and smoke rushed from his room. I went in. The curtains were on fire!

ROCHESTER:

(COUGHS IN HIS SLEEP)

JANE EYRE:

(SHOUTS) Wake! Wake, Mr. Rochester! Wake! (NARRATES) He lay stupefied in his sleep. I rushed to the basin and pitcher.

MUSIC:

UP, FOR A BIG ACCENT ... OUT WITH--

SOUND:

SMASH! AND SPLASH! OF BASIN AND PITCHER, FILLED WITH WATER, HURLED AGAINST FLAMES

ROCHESTER:

(WAKES) What is it?! Is there a flood?!

JANE EYRE:

No, sir, but there's been a fire.

ROCHESTER:

(AMUSED DISBELIEF) In the name of all the elves in Christendom, is that Jane Eyre? What have you done with me, witch, sorceress? And this smoke? Who was in the room besides you? Have you plotted to drown me?

JANE EYRE:

I will fetch a candle, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Wait till I get my dry garments; where are they? Yes, here they are; here's my dressing-gown. Now run for a candle--

JANE EYRE:

Shall I call Mrs. Fairfax?

ROCHESTER:

Mrs. Fairfax? No; what the deuce would you call her for? Not at all; just be still, be still. (BEAT, WORRIED) Look at me, Jane. Jane -- did you hear an odd laugh to-night? (NO ANSWER) Have you heard that laugh before, or something like it?

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir. I thought perhaps one of the servants--

ROCHESTER:

(RELIEVED) Just so; one of the servants. Yes, that's it; you've guessed it, Jane. I'm glad you're the only person acquainted with the precise details of to-night's accident. You're no talking fool. Jane, say nothing about it. Return to your own room. I shall do very well on the sofa in the library for the rest of the night. In two hours the servants will be up.

JANE EYRE:

Good-night.

ROCHESTER:

(SURPRISED) Are you quitting me already, and in that way?

JANE EYRE:

But you had said I might go, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Oh, but not without taking leave. Not in that brief, dry fashion. Why, you've saved my life. At least shake hands. (BEAT, WARMLY) Jane, you've saved my life. Hm, I knew you'd do me some good in some way, some time.

JANE EYRE:

(DEEPLY) I'm glad! (CATCHES HERSELF, MORE RESTRAINED) I'm glad I happened to be awake, sir.

ROCHESTER:

But you will go?

JANE EYRE:

I'm cold, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Cold? (REALIZES, GOOD-NATURED) Yes -- and standing in a pool of water! Well, go, then, Jane. Go.

MUSIC:

TO AN UNEASY FINISH

ANNOUNCER:

You are listening to the Campbell Playhouse presentation of "Jane Eyre," starring Madeleine Carroll and Orson Welles. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.

MUSIC:

WISTFUL ... FILLS A PAUSE FOR STATION IDENTIFICATION ... OUT WITH--

ANNOUNCER:

This is Ernest Chappell, ladies and gentlemen, welcoming you back to the Campbell Playhouse. In a moment, we shall resume our presentation of "Jane Eyre."

BIZ:

BUZZ OF WOMEN CHATTERING ... OVERLAPS WITH--

ANNOUNCER:

But right now there seems to be a little discussion going on. Let's listen and find out what it's all about.

1ST WOMAN:

Yes, he's so fond of good soup. I make soup for him as often as I can. But, I declare, what with three children and my housework--

2ND WOMAN:

Don't tell me you still make soup!

1ST WOMAN:

Why, yes. Don't you? My husband says--

2ND WOMAN:

My dear, I haven't made a kettle of soup in-- Oh, ages!

1ST WOMAN:

But you're such a good cook, Ethel. Why, I thought as a matter of course you made your own soup.

2ND WOMAN:

No. One day, quite a while ago, I said to myself, "I'm going to try one of Campbell's Soups." Well, I tried one and then I tried others and we liked them so much that from that time on, I've served nothing else. Well, Harry and I decided it just didn't pay for me to bother making soup any more. Just you serve two or three of your husband's favorite soups as Campbell's make them and see if you don't do the same as I did and give up making soup that's home-- (FADES OUT)

ANNOUNCER:

And so it goes. As one good home cook tries Campbell's Soups, sees how homelike they are in fine flavor and nourishment, notes how much your family likes them, and then tells a friend. Perhaps a friend has persuaded you to try Campbell's Soups. Perhaps you're already enjoying at your house your favorites among these twenty-one fine soups. But, if not, won't you try them? If you will, I'm almost sure you, too, will join with other good home cooks everywhere and turn your soup-making over to Campbell's.

And now we resume our presentation of "Jane Eyre," starring Orson Welles and Madeleine Carroll.

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I did not see Mr. Rochester again for several weeks. He had left Thornfield Hall.

MUSIC:

A LILTING WALTZ ... THEN IN BG, OUT GENTLY AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) And when he did finally come home, it was with a large company of very elegant guests. For days, the house was filled with their maids and valets. There was one lady in particular to whom my master, Mr. Rochester, seemed especially attentive.

MRS. FAIRFAX:

The Honourable Blanche Ingram. Lord Ingram's sister she is. She's held the most beautiful girl in the county.

JANE EYRE:

She is beautiful. And this beautiful and accomplished young lady is not yet married?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

It appears not. The fact is, she has no very large fortune.

JANE EYRE:

Oh, but, Mrs. Fairfax, is there not some wealthy nobleman or rich man has taken a fancy to her? Mr. Rochester, for instance? He is rich, is he not?

MRS. FAIRFAX:

Oh, yes. But, you see, there is a considerable difference in age. [X] Mr. Rochester is past forty. Miss Ingram is barely twenty.

JANE EYRE:

But what of that? More unequal marriages are made every day.

MRS. FAIRFAX:

True; yet I scarcely fancy Mr. Rochester would entertain an idea of that sort. Mr. Rochester is very talented and lively in society. The ladies are very fond of him. But I don't think he has any intention of marrying anybody. (PAUSE) What's the matter with you, child? You've eaten nothing; you've scarcely tasted anything since you began tea. (NO RESPONSE) What is it, Jane? What's happened to you?

MUSIC:

BRIDGE ... LILTING WALTZ ... THEN TINKLING SOLO PIANO IN BG, OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I soon had a chance to observe Miss Ingram myself. That evening, word came that Mr. Rochester wished to introduce my pupil Adele to the ladies in the drawing-room after dinner. As they came in from the dining room, their dresses gleamed in the light. I rose and curtsied to them. One or two bent their heads in return; the others only stared at me. As soon as I could, I left quietly through the side door. In the passage, I noticed that the ribbon of my shoe was loose. I stooped to tie it.

ROCHESTER:

(ABRUPTLY) How do you do?

JANE EYRE:

(SURPRISED) Oh, I'm - I'm very well, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Jane? [X] Why did you not come over and speak to me in the drawing-room?

JANE EYRE:

I did not wish to disturb you.

ROCHESTER:

What have you been doing during my absence?

JANE EYRE:

Nothing particular. Teaching Adele, as usual.

ROCHESTER:

(EXAMINES HER) Hm. And getting a good deal paler. Return to the drawing-room, Miss Eyre. You're deserting too early.

JANE EYRE:

I am tired, sir.

ROCHESTER:

And a little depressed. Well, to-night I excuse you; but understand that as long as my visitors stay, I expect you to appear in the drawing-room every evening. It is my wish. Don't neglect it.

SOUND:

DOORBELL RINGS

MUSIC:

UNEASY ... SNEAKS IN WITH DOORBELL ... BUILDS SLOWLY DURING FOLLOWING--

ROCHESTER:

Now, who in the devil is that at this time of the night?

JANE EYRE:

Shall I go and see, sir?

ROCHESTER:

Yes, Jane, I must return to my guests; I fear Miss Ingram will have marked my absence.

SOUND:

DOORBELL RINGS

ROCHESTER:

Well, whoever it is, say I'll not see him.

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir.

MUSIC:

UP, CLIMAXES OMINOUSLY ... FOR A TRANSITION ... CONTINUES UNEASILY IN BG, OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(APPROACHES, EXCITED) Mr. Rochester? Mr. Rochester?

ROCHESTER:

Hm? Yes, Jane? What is it? You seem excited.

JANE EYRE:

It's a man to see you, sir. He wouldn't be put off. He said he'd wait for you. He went into the drawing-room.

ROCHESTER:

The devil he did! Have you got his name?

JANE EYRE:

His name is Mason, sir; and he comes from the West Indies; from, uh, Jamaica, I think.

ROCHESTER:

(STRUCK) Mason! [X] West Indies! Is that what he said?

JANE EYRE:

Do you feel ill, sir?

ROCHESTER:

Jane-- Jane-- (EXHALES, WEAKLY) I've got a blow; I've got a blow.

JANE EYRE:

Oh, lean on me, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Jane, you offered me your shoulder once before. Let me have it now.

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir, yes; and my arm.

ROCHESTER:

Jane, if all the people in that drawing-room came in a body and spat at me, what would you do, Jane?

JANE EYRE:

I'd turn them out of the room, sir, if I could.

ROCHESTER:

But if I were to go in to them, and they dropped off and left me one by one, what then? Would you go with them?

JANE EYRE:

I rather think not, sir. I should have more pleasure in staying with you.

ROCHESTER:

To comfort me?

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir, to comfort you, as well as I could.

ROCHESTER:

Go in the drawing-room, Jane. Step quietly up to Mason and whisper in his ear that Mr. Rochester wishes to see him. Bring him here and then leave me. Good-night.

MUSIC:

BROODING ACCENT ... FOR A TRANSITION ... THEN OUT BEHIND--

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) Much later that night, I wakened suddenly.

BERTHA:

(DISTANT BLOODCURDLING SCREAM)

MASON:

(DISTANT) Help! help! help! help! help! Will no one come?! Rochester! Rochester!

SOUND:

KNOCK AT JANE'S DOOR

ROCHESTER:

(OFF) Jane?!

SOUND:

MORE KNOCKING

ROCHESTER:

(OFF) Jane?! Jane, get up! I need you!

MUSIC:

SNEAKS IN ... UNEASY, IN BG, OUT AT [X]

ROCHESTER:

Jane, have you a sponge in your room?

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Have you any salts?

JANE EYRE:

Yes.

ROCHESTER:

Fetch both. (HESITANT) Jane -- you won't turn sick at the sight of blood?

JANE EYRE:

I don't think I shall; I've never been tried yet.

ROCHESTER:

Let me see; give me your hand. [X] (BEAT, IMPRESSED) Hm. Warm and steady. You'll do.

MUSIC:

EERIE ... FOR A TRIP TO THE ATTIC ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [Y]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I followed Mr. Rochester to the floor above. We entered a large room and, beyond that, there was an open door.

BERTHA:

(GROWLS AND HISSES LIKE A MAD DOG, OFF ... CONTINUES IN BG, THEN FADES OUT BEFORE MASON'S GIBBERING)

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) There was a light shining there and from inside came a low sound, almost like a dog growling. In a chair in the center of the room was the form of a man, huddled and still. Mr. Rochester held the candle over it; I saw that it was the stranger, Mason -- the man that had called earlier that evening. His sleeve and his shirt on one side were soaked with blood.

MASON:

(GIBBERS, TERRIFIED) She's done for me!

ROCHESTER:

(HARSH) Nonsense, Mason!

MASON:

She's done for me. [Y]

ROCHESTER:

You've lost a little blood; that's all.

MASON:

(CALMS A LITTLE) Sorry. I--

ROCHESTER:

Jane, hold the candle; hold this basin.

MASON:

She went at me with her teeth.

ROCHESTER:

Mason, shut up!

MASON:

She bit me like a dog, when you took the knife from her.

ROCHESTER:

I said--be on your guard.

MASON:

Oh, it was-- I didn't expect it; she was so quiet at first.

ROCHESTER:

I warned you, Mason!

MASON:

I thought I could have done her some good.

ROCHESTER:

You thought! you thought! Mason, it makes me impatient to hear ya. Now, get up. You must be out of the house before morning.

MASON:

Rochester, she sucked the blood; she said she'd drain my heart.

ROCHESTER:

Come, be silent! Don't mind her gibberish; don't repeat it.

MASON:

I wish I could forget it.

ROCHESTER:

You will, Mason, when you're out of the country. Now, come on, I'll help you downstairs; there's a carriage waiting.

MASON:

Thank God.

ROCHESTER:

When you get back to Spanish Town, you'll think of her as dead and buried -- if you think of her at all.

MASON:

(HEARTFELT PLEA) Rochester, let her be taken care of; let her be treated as tenderly as may be--

ROCHESTER:

I do my best, Mason! And have done my best, and will do it! Never fear. (PAUSE, QUIETLY) Yet would to God there was an end to all this.

MUSIC:

TURBULENT BRIDGE ... THEN CALMER, IN AGREEMENT WITH FOLLOWING ... IN BG, OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) A splendid Midsummer shone over England. (PAUSE, FOR THE MUSIC TO PAINT A PICTURE) It was as if a band of Italian days had come from the South, like a flock of glorious passenger birds, and lighted to rest them on the cliffs of Albion. The last of the visitors had long since gone away. A great calm descended upon Thornfield Hall and Mr. Rochester stayed on. Among the servants, the talk continued about his coming marriage to Miss Ingram -- yet I saw no preparations going on for such an event.

I used to look at my master's face to see if it were sad or fierce. I could not forget that dreadful night -- that strange, secret terror that seemed to hang over him. But I had never seen his face so clear of clouds or ill feeling as it was in those weeks. [X]

Never had he called me more frequently to his presence; never had he been kinder to me. And, alas! never had I loved him so well.

MUSIC:

WISTFUL AND ROMANTIC BRIDGE ... THEN IN BG, OUT GENTLY BY [Y]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) It was Midsummer-eve. I went down into the orchard, enticed there by the light of the rising moon. I heard a nightingale singing in the woods far away. The trees were laden with ripening fruit.

ROCHESTER:

(ECHO, OFF) Jane? (CLOSER) Good evening, Jane. (PAUSE) Thornfield's a pleasant place in summer, is it not?

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir.

ROCHESTER:

Mm. (MISCHIEVOUS) You must have become, to some degree, attached to the house. [Y]

JANE EYRE:

Oh, I am attached to it, indeed.

ROCHESTER:

And would be sorry to part with it?

JANE EYRE:

Yes.

ROCHESTER:

Mmm. Pity. It's always the way of events in this life. No sooner have you got settled in a pleasant resting-place, than a voice calls to you to rise and move on, for the hour of repose is expired.

JANE EYRE:

(WORRIED) Must I move on, sir? Must I leave Thornfield?

ROCHESTER:

I believe you must, Jane. I am sorry, Jane, but I believe indeed you must.

JANE EYRE:

(BEAT, RESIGNED) Well, sir, I shall be ready when the order to march comes.

ROCHESTER:

It's come now -- I must give it to-night.

JANE EYRE:

You're going to be married, sir?

ROCHESTER:

(AMUSED, LIGHTLY) Ex-act-ly -- pre-cise-ly; with your usual acuteness, you've hit the nail straight on the head.

JANE EYRE:

Soon, sir?

ROCHESTER:

Very soon. That means that you and your pupil-- (GENTLY) Look at me, Jane. You're not turning your head to look after more nightingales, are you? (BEAT, AUTHORITATIVE) Adele must go to school; and you, Miss Eyre, will get a new station.

JANE EYRE:

Yes, sir, I will advertise immediately.

ROCHESTER:

I've already, through my future mother-in-law, heard of a place that I think will suit -- a place in Connaught, Ireland.

JANE EYRE:

(UNHAPPY) It's a long way off, sir!

ROCHESTER:

From what, Jane?

JANE EYRE:

Oh, from England, and from Thornfield, and--

ROCHESTER:

Well?

JANE EYRE:

From you, sir.

ROCHESTER:

(BEAT) It is, to be sure, it is. We've been good friends, Jane; have we not?

JANE EYRE:

(WEEPS)

ROCHESTER:

(COMFORTING) Oh, come, we'll sit here in peace to-night, though we should never more sit here together. (BEAT, AS THEY SIT) Sometimes I have a queer feeling with regard to you, Jane -- especially when you're near to me, as now. It's as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated on the corresponding corner of your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel comes broad between us, I'm afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. (SHARP) As for you, you'd forget me.

JANE EYRE:

(TEARFUL) Oh, that I never should, sir; you know-- I wish I'd never been born! I wish I'd never come to Thornfield!

ROCHESTER:

Because you're sorry to leave it?

JANE EYRE:

Because I have known you, Mr. Rochester; and it strikes me with terror and anguish I absolutely must be torn from you forever. It's like looking at the necessity of death.

ROCHESTER:

Where do you see the necessity?

JANE EYRE:

Where? You, sir, have placed it before me.

ROCHESTER:

In what shape?

JANE EYRE:

In the shape of your bride, Miss Ingram--

ROCHESTER:

My bride! What bride? I have no bride.

JANE EYRE:

But you will have.

ROCHESTER:

Yes, I will; I will, yes.

JANE EYRE:

Then I must go -- you have said it yourself.

ROCHESTER:

No, you must stay; I swear it, and the oath shall be kept.

JANE EYRE:

But I tell you I must go! Do you think I can stay to become nothing to you?! Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain, and little, that I am soulless and heartless?! I have as much soul as you -- and full as much heart!

ROCHESTER:

Jane, be still. (CHUCKLES) Jane, I offer you my hand, my heart, and a share of all my possessions.

JANE EYRE:

Don't mock me.

ROCHESTER:

I ask you to pass through life at my side -- to be my wife. It's you only I intend to marry. Come, Jane -- come here.

JANE EYRE:

Your bride stands between us.

ROCHESTER:

My bride is here. What love would I have for Miss Ingram? None; and that you know. I would not -- I could not -- marry her, you strange, you almost unearthly thing. (CHUCKLES, PAUSE, DEEPLY) I love you as my own flesh.

JANE EYRE: Do you truly love me? Do you sincerely wish me to be your wife?

ROCHESTER:

I do, I swear it.

JANE EYRE:

Then, sir, I'll marry you.

ROCHESTER:

Come to me, Jane -- come to me entirely now. Make my happiness -- I will make yours. (FERVENT, LIKE A PRAYER) God pardon me -- and men meddle not with me. I have her, and I'll hold her. (LOVINGLY) Jane-- Jane--

MUSIC:

TRIUMPHANT AND ROMANTIC BRIDGE ... THEN WEDDING BELLS, OUT BEHIND--

PRIEST:

I require and charge you both -- you, Edward Rochester, and you, Jane Eyre -- that if either of you know of any impediment why you should not lawfully be joined together in matrimony, do you now confess it? (NO ANSWER) Edward Rochester, wilt thou have this woman for thy wedded wife?

MASON:

(INTERRUPTS, OFF) This marriage cannot go on!

ROCHESTER:

(QUICKLY, TO PRIEST) Proceed with the service.

MASON:

(COMING CLOSER) An insuperable impediment to this marriage exists! I can prove it!

BIZ:

CROWD MURMURS IN REACTION ... OUT WITH--

PRIEST:

What is the nature of the impediment?

MASON:

The existence of a previous marriage. Mr. Rochester has a wedded wife now living.

PRIEST:

Can you prove that, sir?

MASON:

Of course! I have an affidavit! I affirm and can prove that Edward Rochester, of Thornfield Hall, in the county of Yorkshire, was married on the twentieth of October, Eighteen Twenty-One!

ROCHESTER:

That does not prove that my wife is still living!

MASON:

She is living! She is now living at Thornfield Hall. I saw her there last April.

PRIEST:

Who are you, sir?

MASON:

I'm her brother.

BIZ:

CROWD MURMURS IN REACTION ... OUT WITH--

ROCHESTER:

Gentlemen! Gentlemen! (BEAT) What this man here says is true.

Bigamy is an ugly word -- yet that is what I meant to be, a bigamist.

I have been married, and the woman to whom I was married is alive!

All of you say you never heard of a Mrs. Rochester in the house up yonder, but I daresay you've often heard gossip about the mysterious lunatic kept under watch and ward. I now inform you that she is my wife, Bertha Mason, whom I married fifteen years ago in Spanish Town, Jamaica. Bertha Mason is insane; she came of a insane family; and they knew it when they let me marry her. You may see for yourself, if you wish, what sort of being I was cheated into marrying, and judge whether or not I had a right to break the compact, and seek happiness with this girl I love.

(QUIET) Well, I failed. (BITTERLY, TO A COACHMAN) Take the coach back to Thornfield. It'll not be wanted to-day.

(ANGRY) To the right-about, every one of you! Away with your congratulations! And your sympathy! Who wants them?! (IN DESPAIR) They're fifteen years too late!

MUSIC:

BIG ACCENT ... MOURNFUL BRIDGE ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) Next morning at dawn, I made my possessions into a parcel, tied on my bonnet, pinned my shawl, took my slippers, which I would not put on yet, and stole from my room. For the last time, I passed Mr. Rochester's door and started silently down the dark stairs.

ROCHESTER:

(ECHO, OFF) Jane? [X] (PAUSE, CLOSER) Jane? You're going, Jane?

JANE EYRE:

I am going, sir.

ROCHESTER:

(WOUNDED) You're leaving me?

JANE EYRE:

Yes.

ROCHESTER:

Jane? Jane, do you mean to go one way in the world, and let me go another?

JANE EYRE:

I do.

ROCHESTER:

You will not stay, Jane? You will not be my comforter, my rescuer? My deep love, my tragic grief -- they're nothing to you?

JANE EYRE:

I must go.

ROCHESTER:

Oh, Jane, this is wicked. It'd be not-- Jane, it won't be wicked to love me.

JANE EYRE:

It would to obey you.

ROCHESTER:

Then you will not yield? Jane -- you will not stay?

JANE EYRE:

No. God bless you, my dear master. God keep you from harm and wrong -- reward you well for your past kindness to me. Farewell. Farewell.

ROCHESTER:

No, Jane. Jane -- my hope -- my love -- my life.

MUSIC:

MELANCHOLY BRIDGE ... THEN IN BG

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) Sadly, I made my way downstairs. Dawn glimmered in the yard. I set out across the field. My shoes were wet with dew. I thought of him now in his room, watching the sun rising, hoping I should soon come back and say I'd stay with him. I went on through the fields, stumbling blindly, not knowing where I was going.

MUSIC:

UP, FOR AN ACCENT ... THEN OUT

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) A year and a half went by. I took a position that was open in a school in the Midlands as far as I could from Thornfield.

MUSIC:

SNEAKS IN ... OUT AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) But I thought of Mr. Rochester everywhere. I longed to know what had become of him. In the end, I wrote to Mrs. Fairfax and begged for news. Three months wore away. Day after day, the post arrived and brought nothing for me. Then one day I could stand it no longer. I packed my things and took the stagecoach for the North. Thirty-six hours later, I was at Millcote. [X]

INNKEEPER:

Long way, today, ma'am. You see, we don't get many travellers here these days. Lose your way or something?

JANE EYRE:

I thought perhaps you could tell me-- Is Mr. Rochester living at Thornfield Hall now?

INNKEEPER:

Why, say, ma'am, you must be a proper stranger in these parts. Don't you know? Thornfield Hall's quite a ruin -- not a stone standing. It was burnt down just about harvest-time. Fire broke out in the dead of night, and before the engines arrived from Millcote, the building was one mass of flame.

JANE EYRE:

(TO HERSELF, KNOWINGLY) The dead of night. (TO INNKEEPER) Was it known how it started?

INNKEEPER:

Well, they guessed, ma'am; they guessed. Indeed, I'd say it was ascertained without a doubt. You see, there was a woman -- would you believe it? -- a lunatic, kept in the house. And this woman turned out to be Mr. Rochester's wife! It all came to light in a strange way. Yes, it did. There was a young lady, came to live at the Hall, a governess--

JANE EYRE:

But the fire--? Was Mr. Rochester at home when the fire broke out?

INNKEEPER:

Oh, yes, indeed he was. He went up to the attic -- all was burning above and below -- and got the servants out of their beds and helped them down himself. And then he went back to get his mad wife out of her cell. We called to him -- she was on the roof and we heard him call her name. We saw him approach her and-- And then, ma'am, she yelled and gave a spring, and the next minute she lay smashed on the pavement.

JANE EYRE:

Dead?

INNKEEPER:

Yes. Dead as the stones on which her brain and blood were scattered.

JANE EYRE:

(DISMAYED) Oh. (HOPEFUL) But is he alive?

INNKEEPER:

Wha--? Oh, yes. Yes, Mr. Rochester's alive; but many think he had better be dead.

JANE EYRE:

Why? Where is he? Is he in England?

INNKEEPER:

Ay -- ay -- he's in England. He can't get out of England. Yes, I fancy he's a fixture now. He's stone-blind. Yes, he's stone-blind, is Mr. Rochester.

MUSIC:

VERY SAD ... ENTERS DURING ABOVE, THEN A BRIEF BRIDGE ... THEN IN BG, OUT GENTLY AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I found him in a small manor-house nearby, with two of the old servants from Thornfield looking after him. The parlour looked gloomy. A neglected handful of fire burnt low in the grate. And leaning over it, with his head supported against the high, old-fashioned mantel-piece, stood Mr. Rochester.

SOUND:

DOG BARKS, THEN IN BG

ROCHESTER:

Is that you, Mrs. Fairfax? (NO ANSWER) Down, Pilot, down.

SOUND:

DOG STOPS BARKING

ROCHESTER:

What's the matter? It is you, Mrs. Fairfax, is it not?

JANE EYRE:

Mrs. Fairfax is in the kitchen.

ROCHESTER:

(STUNNED) Who is this?! (NO ANSWER) Who is this? (NO ANSWER) Answer me. (NO RESPONSE) Speak again!

JANE EYRE:

Will you have a little tea?

ROCHESTER:

Who is it? Who speaks?!

JANE EYRE:

Your dog knows me, and John and Mrs. Fairfax know I am here. I came only this evening-- [X]

ROCHESTER:

(TO HIMSELF) Great God! What delusion has come over me? What sweet madness has seized me? (TO JANE) Where are you? Are you only a voice? (TO HIMSELF) I can't see, but I must feel, or my heart will stop and my brain burst.

SOUND:

HE STEPS FORWARD, THEN STOPS WITH--

ROCHESTER:

(INHALES, QUIETLY, TO HIMSELF) Her very fingers. Her small, slight fingers. There must be more of her. Is it Jane? This is her shape, this is her size--

JANE EYRE:

(FERVENT) And this her voice. She's all here; her heart, too. God bless you, sir! I am glad to be so near you again.

ROCHESTER:

(RELIEVED, LOVINGLY) Jane-- Jane Eyre--

MUSIC:

BRIEF BRIDGE ... THEN IN BG, OUT GENTLY AT [X]

JANE EYRE:

(NARRATES) I have now been married ten years. I know what it is to live entirely for, and with, what I love best on earth. Edward Rochester continued blind the first two years of our marriage. Then, one morning, as I was writing a letter for him to his dictation, he came and bent over me.

ROCHESTER:

(ECHO, OFF) Jane--? [X] (CLOSER) Jane? Have you a glittering ornament around your neck?

JANE EYRE:

(PUZZLED) Yes.

ROCHESTER:

And, Jane, are you wearing a pale blue dress?

JANE EYRE:

(PLEASED) Yes! (PAUSE, NARRATES, LOVINGLY) Later, when our first-born was put into his arms, he could see that the boy had inherited his own eyes, as they once were -- laughing, brilliant, and black.

MUSIC: TO A FINISH

ANNOUNCER:

You have been listening to the Campbell Playhouse presentation of "Jane Eyre," starring Orson Welles and Madeleine Carroll. Mr. Welles and our guest will be back with us in just a moment. Meanwhile--

You may have noticed earlier in our program that, in speaking of Campbell's Chicken Soup, I referred to it as homey. Now, that's exactly what it is -- old-fashioned and homey. But while at home it's often made from leftover chicken, Campbell's use all the choice meat of selected plump chickens in making their chicken soup.

With this one advantage, they follow closely the old home way of making chicken soup. They simmer the broth long and slowly till it's rich with chicken flavor. And then they measure in snow-white rice and add tempting pieces of chicken meat to lend the final, authentic homelike touch. Now, isn't that the kind of old-fashioned chicken soup that would appeal to the appetites at your house? I really believe it is.

And so I say again -- just as sure as you like chicken, you'll like Campbell's Chicken Soup. Have it tomorrow, won't you?

And now, here is Orson Welles.

HOST:

Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, no introduction is necessary. Jane Eyre, as ever was, was played for you by one of your favorite actresses and one of our favorite guests, Miss Madeleine Carroll.

GUEST:

Thank you, Orson. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

HOST:

Miss Carroll, ladies and gentlemen, seems fated on this program to play young women who have a hard time with their men.

GUEST:

(CHUCKLES)

HOST:

When you were with us last, Madeleine, in "The Garden of Allah," you were not, as I remember, the happiest of girls in your romantic life.

GUEST:

No. And last year in "The Green Goddess," as a victim of the villainous Rajah of Rukh, I wasn't entirely at ease, either.

HOST:

(LAUGHS) I'd forgotten about that. I'm sorry about the Rajah.

GUEST:

But I don't mind the tortures you put me through, Orson. It's so wonderful to be loved that much.

HOST:

Maybe I don't know much about women, Madeleine, but don't you think it'd be nice to be loved not quite so much and to be tortured just a little less?

GUEST:

Orson, you're right. You don't know much about women.

HOST:

I suppose. But I do know that you've just given us one of the loveliest performances we've ever had on the Campbell Playhouse. We're very happy you've been able to be with us again tonight. Good night, Madeleine, and thanks again.

MUSIC:

THAT GENTLY LILTING WALTZ HEARD EARLIER DURING THE DRAMA ... IN BG, OUT AT [X]

HOST:

Miss Carroll, of course, ladies and gentlemen, was Jane Eyre. And you will recognize a great name of the theater, as you very possibly recognized a voice, when I tell you that Mrs. Fairfax was played by none other than Cecilia Loftus. Mr. Brocklehurst was Robert Coote, George Coulouris was the Innkeeper, Edgar Barrier was the priest. The young Jane Eyre was Sarita Wooten. Rochester was your obedient servant. Music for the Campbell Playhouse was arranged and, to a large measure, composed and, as always, conducted by Bernard Herrmann. [X]

ANNOUNCER:

Ladies and gentlemen, with tonight's broadcast we are concluding our Winter series of Campbell Playhouse presentations. Our sponsors, the makers of Campbell Soups, have asked me to express publicly their appreciation to Orson Welles for his splendid services as the producer and star of the Playhouse, and to you, our listeners, for your interest in our broadcasts and your patronage.

Mr. Welles, Campbell's are happy to have presented the Playhouse with you as its producer for the past two years. The success of the Campbell Playhouse has been your success. As listeners, our sponsors have asked me to tell you how much they've enjoyed your shows and that each succeeding Sunday evening has confirmed their high regard for you as producer and star. And as sponsors, they've enjoyed, too, the happy association with you.

HOST:

Thank you, Ernest Chappell.

MUSIC:

WARM VERSION OF "AULD LANG SYNE" ... OUT AT [X]

HOST:

I'd like to tell you, ladies and gentlemen, that my sponsors are very nice sponsors indeed -- which is understating the situation. I have enjoyed the opportunity afforded me on the Campbell Playhouse -- as producer, as dramatist and as actor -- more than I can tell you. This series of broadcasts has been a genuinely happy experience for me. A very pleasant relationship indeed.

I'd like now to thank all of those who've contributed so generously of their time and talent in assisting me. Actors, with whom you are familiar by this time -- fine actors like George Coulouris of our own Mercury group; Ray Collins, Edgar Barrier, Everett Sloane, Agnes Moorehead, Frank Readick, a lot more I just haven't time to mention. [X]

And besides these, the people behind the scenes about whom you know little or nothing. Don McBain, our wonderful engineer; Tracy, our production man -- best in the business; Harry Essman, the wizard of the sound effects department; all the assistants to all these people. These are the Campbell Playhouse. Believe me, they're all wonderful.

Now, ladies and gentlemen, permit me to remind you that all of us on the Campbell Playhouse, my sponsors, the makers of Campbell Soups, everybody else on this program remain, as always, obediently yours.

MUSIC:

THEME (Tchaikovsky) ... AND OUT

ANNOUNCER:

If you have enjoyed these Campbell Playhouse presentations, won't you tell your grocer so tomorrow when you order Campbell's Chicken Soup?

And may I also remind you that Campbell's Soups are broadcasting many radio shows each week for your enjoyment? Tomorrow morning, for example, you may listen to Campbell's Short Short Story. And also Life Begins, the story of Martha Webster. And tomorrow evening, as usual, you may enjoy Amos 'n' Andy. And here is news. Immediately following Amos 'n' Andy tomorrow night -- and four nights a week thereafter -- you may hear Lanny Ross singing your favorite songs. All these programs come to you from the makers of Campbell's Soups.

This is Ernest Chappell saying thank you and good night.

MUSIC:

CLOSING WALTZ ... TILL END

CBS ANNCR:

This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.