The House of Squibb manufacturing chemists to the medical profession since 1858 brings you Academy Award. The pictures, the players, the techniques and skills which have won or been nominated for. The coveted awards granted each year by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences to each in his field for outstanding achievement. The House of Squibb, makers of the great family of Squibb medicinal products brings you Paramount stirring picture, If I Were King with the distinguished star Ronald Coleman who on three separate occasions has been nominated for the Academy Award. In the reign of Louis XI, Paris was besieged by the armies of the Duke of Burgundy. Throughout the long winter, its inhabitants shut off from the outside world, faced either starvation or slaughter, honest man turned thief, thief turned killer and in these dark tumultuous times like a rare jewel, fallen into the gutter, flamed the genius of a poet, Francois Villon. Paris under siege, a city of tensions and explosive restraints, a city of ironical paradoxes like this, a beggar come to church to look at a woman of quality, Francois Villon and Catherine de Vosel, lady-in-waiting to the Queen. I was afraid you'd gone. Why? You are a beggar from the Court of Miracles. I don't know you. Ah, but I've dreamt of you always. Each night we've roamed the starry way together. Each morning I've walked with despair in my heart, knowing no mortal could be so fair. Oh, my lady, wherever I look, I see only you. Of course, if I had better manners, I'd keep this to myself. But as you see, I have no manners. I do indeed. May I read you a poem? No, certainly not. Thank you, my lady. If I were king, I'll love if I were king. What tributary nations would I bring to stoop before your scepter and to swear allegiance to your lips and eyes and hair? My lady! Beneath your feet were treasures I would fling. The stars should be your pearls upon a string. My lady! The world of ruby for your fingering. Please. And you should have the sun and moon to wear if I were king. Please, I must go. There he is, the beggar, annoying my lady. Don't let him escape! Nor is there king's guard to interrupt. Au revoir, my lady. Here he goes, after him. Take Francois Villon, the king's name. Where is the prisoner? He is in here in the torture room, your majesty. Oh, nasty smell down here. As if the cook had burnt the roast. Well now, my man, why bring all this suffering on yourself? You were seen to pick up this arrow. To whom were you taking it? Better use your tongue while you still have it. Oh, he still has his tongue, hasn't he? Yes, majesty. Good. Now, my man, you'd better speak while you can speak. Where were you taking this arrow? What's that? I'll bend closer if you wish. Now where were you taking it? Oh, well, well. Very interesting. Where is this fearcone tavern? Fearcone tavern, sire? Why, it's in the Court of Miracles, a spot frequented by wantons, cutthroats, beggars, thieves, the scum of Paris. Very interesting. We must go there. Indeed, we must. In our very best disguises. The fearcone tavern, eh? Oh, God, give him water. But not too much. Oh, bring spiced beer. It is good for strangers to be alone. Come, ugly one, buy spiced beer. And welcome to fearcone tavern. Me? Oh, thanks, wench. Well, well, you get. What's this? Waste not thy heart upon this juiceless mold. Heir all thy fragrant youth depart, and leave thee useless, old. Isn't that beautiful? Who is this cockroach? Why, that's Francois, beyond the poet. A tinker reverses, gentlemen. No offense. Poetry is his own worst enemy. Come, join me in a bottle of wine, fit for a king. You drink more than is good for you, my friend. What can a man do but drink when France is going to the devil? I suppose you could do better if you were king. I do not wish to appear boastful, brother long-nosed, but yes, I try and know my subjects to earn their loyalty instead of their loathing. So by knowing the worst in them, I bring out the best in them. You should have been an orator, my friend. I am an orator. Thank you. Thank you, my subjects. And now, where is the wine? The grand constable. Stand, you villains. We've come for a rogue named Vion. Francois Vion, the king of France. And the king of France. Don't let them take you. Down with the king's watch. Quickly, a sword. Order in the king's name. The king's archers, just when we're winning. Stop your arms, all of you. So, you've murdered the grand constable. A pretty night's work, Master Vion. So the grand constable is dead. And in his hand, an interesting scrap of paper, eh? It was he. Yes, Oliver. The arrow was meant for him. Take this Vion out and hang him. One moment, young man. Who are you to interfere with the king's justice? I am the king's justice. Your majesty. The king. Long live the king. Greetings, my loyal subjects. And especially to you, Master Philosopher and Agile Swordsman. Neil Francois, the king. I'm afraid it's a little late for etiquette. Quite so. Captain, arrest the leaders and take them to the palace dungeon. I suppose you're wondering what I'm going to do with you. I can almost guess. I could have you boiled in oil or sliced or drawn and quartered. And there are other torches that, for the moment, escape me. Your majesty. But I'm not going to hang you yet. Your majesty will never know my gratitude. I probably won't. You robbed my storehouse and assaulted me publicly, made revolutionary speeches and topped off the evening by assassinating my grand constable in cold blood. Your majesty admitted he was a traitor. Even so, he was my grand constable. So don't split hairs. But he started the fight. And you finished it, leaving me to punish you and reward you for the same deed, eh? Something which would have puzzled King Solomon himself. Of course, you might hang me at one end and pin a medal on the other. Greater king would hang you out of hand and a lesser king would forgive you. I'd probably fall somewhere between the two. And this is my decision. Since you have deprived me of the services of my grand constable. Yes, but your majesty, I... Don't interrupt me. And since you think it's so easy to rule these carrion who call themselves my subjects, I hereby appoint you grand constable of France and Brittany. Grand constable? Eh, defender of my crown, commander in chief of my armies and dispenser of justice high, middle and low. But...but is...is this a jest? Not at all. Oh, it's true. You come from the gutter, my friend. Perhaps you have a certain native sense of loyalty, courage. And at least it will prove an interesting experiment, eh? Now kneel down. Well, get down, get down. Go on, go on. Yes, sire. I dub thee Count de Montcobier, hereditary knight of the Golden Buckle. Yes, and I think you need a bath. Oliver. Yes, your majesty. Show the Count de Montcobier to his rooms. This way, my lord. Your majesty. My lord, grand constable. Before continuing with the second part of Academy Award, I'd like to point out how often, not only in motion pictures, but in every other field, a bright attractive smile helps a man or woman on his way to the top. It's one of the reasons why so many people use Squibb Dental Cream, one of the great family of Squibb products. Squibb Dental Cream encourages a sparkling smile. Its cool, minty flavor is so pleasantly invigorating, it seems to wake up your whole mouth, to leave it tingling and alive. That's why you can taste the refreshing difference. The active ingredient in pure Squibb Dental Cream is one of the safest, softest, yet most effective polishing agents known to dental science. That's why you can feel and see the refreshing difference. So for better looks, for a safe, effective, pleasant way to brush your teeth, ask for Squibb Dental Cream. Taste, feel, and see the refreshing difference. In a moment, Ronald Coleman will be back with part two of If I Were King. But first we want to thank Paramount Pictures for making this story available. You'll be interested to know that Paramount's current production is Kitty, starring Paulette Goddard and Ray Milan. And now the House of Squibb presents part two of tonight's Academy Award, starring Ronald Coleman as Francois Villard in If I Were King. Well my Lord Constable, you smell different and you look so different, I wouldn't know you. Thank you, Asiah. The court is waiting. I was saying, Your Majesty, I'm not familiar with the name of de Montcobier, although heraldry is my hobby. Well, I can't say the same for the name of Doudon, General. Ever since you won the Battle of Montlery, I have watched your success with increasing enthusiasm. But I did not win the Battle of Montlery. Oh, yes, yes, of course, yes, yes, you lost it, yes. But that was the Siege of Liège. We lost that one too, my dear Count. Oh, did we? Oh, I'm so sorry, we must talk about your battle some other time, General. Yes, come along. Now this is the Duchess de Longue. Oh, I see. Where is the Count de Montcobier? He spied one of the ladies in waiting, sire. Seemed to know her. Oh? Yes, so he does. You must think this rude of me, but my name is de Montcobier. Silly isn't it? I looked at you and nearly forgot my name. No doubt your lordship has many important things on his mind. Oh, no, no, no, I have nothing on my mind at all. You just affect me that way. I had no idea that you would, that I would. Do you live here? I am one of Her Majesty's ladies in waiting. Oh, what a fortunate queen. Do you know, the moment I set eyes on you, I said to myself, there is all the beauty of the universe, past, present and future, personified and embodied in this exquisite creature and yet I know not the name of all this loveliness. My name is Catherine de Vauxhall. Ah, it's a beautiful name. Yes, what is it? Your Majesty, a herald from the Duke of Burgundy entered the city under a flag of truce. He demands audience. Admit the herald from Burgundy. You may speak, Sir Herald. In the name of the Duke of Burgundy and of his allies assembled in overwhelming force outside the walls of Paris, I hereby summon you, Louis of France, to surrender and to throw yourself upon me, Master's mercy. And if I refuse? For the city, famine till the end, then fire in the sword, and for yourself, no hope of pardon. And if I accept? An honorable retreat. You mean a dishonorable retreat, huh? Who are you? Grand Constable of France, Chief of the Army, Dispenser of all Justice. No, no, don't bother to look around. I am replacing the traitor who was in your master's employ. You, I... Ah, ah, ah, don't make any more movements like that or I'll have you hanged and sent back to your master in a bag. You are not the envoy of a conquering hero, but the servant of a group of shabby little vassals, rebellious serfs of a noble lord. Now, go back and tell them this. Kings are great in the eyes of their people, but the people are great in the eyes of God. We are well armed and provisioned. We are warm and comfortable behind our strong walls. We laugh at your threats. But if we who eat were starved, if we who drink were dry, if we who are warm were frozen, our answer would still be the same. We laugh at you. We, the people, and the king. And this is your answer? No, no, not all. We give you one week to disband and get out. Then we will attack and destroy you to the last man. Now, we don't wish to be annoyed further. But, but, Your Majesty. You heard my Lord Grand Constable. Get out. Yes, yes. There's nothing else you can do. Get out. My Lord, will the Burgundians retreat or will they stay and be slaughtered? I'm afraid they'll stay and be slaughtered. Will you attack at dawn or during the night? Which would you prefer? My Lord, you're making fun of me. No, my lady. I'm smiling because my heart is singing. Will you wear my kerchief into battle? Aren't you afraid it may take my mind off the fighting? The Queen said that you had called a council of war. All the generals of France. I did. I told them my plan of attack. I shall know their verdict any moment. They can do nothing but follow you. I hope you're right. Will you bring me word? Of course. Where shall I find you? Well, you might find me behind the fourth door on the left on the third floor of the new east wing, if you can remember it. It is engraved on my brain in letters of fire. Sire, what was the verdict of the council? I must make haste to perfect my plans. The council refuses to accept your plans. And as you say, you must make haste for you have very little time. Sire, I don't understand. Oh, didn't I tell you? Well, now let me see. You rendered us a slight service, which we are repaying with a week of exalted splendor. A week? A week, exactly. Of course, the week is almost gone. You have, let me see, yes, exactly one more day. Then I shall expect you to build me an extra fine gibbet. And from it, hang Master Viong. Yes. Yes, you know, for a few hours, your majesty had me almost disappointed in him. Well, I'm glad your faith in me was sustained, my dear Viong. Good night. Good night. But your majesty. Yes, my lord, the council. What if I should escape? Oh, you won't escape. I've taken care of that. Just a moment, my lord. Were you thinking of leaving the palace? Oh, just taking the air before retiring, taking the air on the battlements. Follow him, quick, quick. Oh, there you are. I was afraid you'd forgotten. How could I? Give me your hand. In here. My lord, I heard the news of the council. The scurvy cowards. Why didn't you throw them out of their commands? Too many of them. More than I could replace to attack in a week. Then attack in two weeks. His majesty only gave me one. I still have tonight. My lord, sometimes I do not understand you. My heart tells me that you will not let Paris be defeated. What else does your heart tell you? Oh, my lord, I think you know. Does it mean so much to you that Paris be saved? I had visions of the city free again. Food coming through the gates and travelers from far off places. Hunts in the forest of Fontainebleau. And I wanted you to take me on a picnic in the spring. I might not have been able to anyway. Why not? Oh, the spring is some time off and time does strange things to people. Doesn't it? I wonder. I wonder in what misty isle the voice of Sappho thrills the air. In what green valley of the Nile does Cleopatra still despair for Antony the debonair? The wind had blown them all away. The good, the bad, the foul, the fair. Where are the snows of yesterday? Who wrote that? A person of no importance who is to be hanged. What a pity. Ah, but you shouldn't feel too sorry for him. Such wretches are born and live in the shadow of the gibbet. They're starved and tortured. The slightest wrong they commit is punishable by hanging. So when at last they do hang, well, they've always expected it. Aren't we lucky we're not in their shoes. Yes, yes, it is nice, isn't it? Poor starving people. But why wouldn't they fight for Paris? If they had someone to lead them, to assure them that when they had fought and conquered, they would find their lot different, their king grateful. Catherine. My lord. They would. They would fight. They would conquer. But I would have to lead them. Oh, my lord, you. But it would have to be one. They trusted one of their own. Yes, one of their own. One of the rabble of the gutters of Paris, me. Catherine, have you ever asked yourself where the Mount de Montcourbier came from? No. Did it ever occur to you that perhaps he came from the Court of Miracles? Oh, my lord. For a minute you had me thinking you were serious. Don't you remember that day at the church? Oh. If I were king, I'd love if I were king. What? Beneath your feet what treasures I would fling. The stars should be your pearls upon a string. Oh, no. Yes, the world of ruby for your finger ring. And you should have the sun and moon to wear. Please, me lord. Please. If I were king, yes, I am Francois Villon. Oh, no. The gutter poet. Companion of the finest company of cutthroats, rogues, thieves and murderers that France can boast of. Why did you do this to me? Oh, I never intended to. It started as the jest of a king. Then I loved you. Love. With all the meaning that the word can have in paradise. Love. I could not give thee any godlier thing if I were king. Go. Please go. Please. Yes. Yes, I'll go. I'll go to the Court of Miracles. Perhaps my thieves and cutthroats can do what the generals and the armies of the king have not been able to do. Save France. Did you follow him? Yes, sire, but somehow. What? Out with it. He escaped. Escaped? After I ordered the finest gibbet built in all France? After him. After him. What is it now? The Burgundians, sire. They breached the west wall. Tell my generals, rouse the army, but capture that rogue Francois Vion, dead or alive. You maggots, listen to me. We've been fools long enough. While they're fighting, we'll sack and loot the city. This is our chance. Who's going to lead us? Guess who? I am. You, then I don't want any part of it. Who gets his right? Why, for a good meal, I... For a good meal, you'd murder your own mother. His oratory is improving with opportunity. Eh, you get? Vion. Francois Vion. Yes, Francois Vion. Come to tell you a few things. My friends, we all know there is no honor among thieves, so I'm not going to talk to you about honor. And I'm not appealing to any patch of decency I know you never had. But there are hundreds of thousands of you here, and the city is falling to thieves like ourselves. Come all the way from Burgundy to take what belongs to us. Beggars to beg the bread from our beggar's mouths. Cut purses to cut our purses. Are we going to let these poachers move in on our preserve? These country louts show us how it's done? No! Are they going to starve us to death? No! I'll tell you this, there is no city that can be conquered unless it wants to be. Whether they like it or not, we are part of the city. The part that knows how to fight, or don't we? We do! Good. Then let us fight! The bells of Paris. It would seem our side has been victorious. Yes, sire. I have the honor to inform you that our arms have been victorious on every side. The Duke of Burgundy and his allies are defeated and are in retreat. Your Majesty's orders have been carried out, including the apprehension and arrest of your traitorous Grand Constable, whose fate is now in your Majesty's hands. Good. We shall hang him this very day. Your Majesty! Your Majesty, a great injustice has been done. Last night we were facing defeat when the city was saved by Francois Vio. Francois Vio and the rebel of Paris! Say you so. Ha! now that is most interesting. Oh, there you are, Master Cutthroat. Don't tell me I'm to have the honor of your personal escort to the gibbet, your Majesty. I've been given to understand that you and some other footpads had something to do with defeating the Burgundians last night. Well, suppose I had. Well, just this, that you have a devilish talent for seating me on the point of a sword of justice, and it's becoming uncomfortable in the extreme. I'm sorry I have no cushion to offer, your Majesty. Spare me your witticisms. It's difficult enough trying to be King of France. No, I've found that out, your Majesty. You have? Well, that's the first nice thing you've said to me. Well now, Francois Vio, in recognition of your heroic but murderous services to the Crown, I sentence you to life imprisonment. I forbid you to show yourself again inside of Paris. You can have the rest of France, but I must have peace. Your Majesty. And one more thing. You owe your head to the intercession of Lady Catherine. Before you leave the palace, she wants a word with you. No, no, it's better this way. Will you thank the Lady Catherine and tell her that someday I hope to make the saving of my neck worthy of her efforts? Oh, get out. Driver, stop the horses. That is the man I want, walking there in the road. Milord? Oh, what do you wish, milady? Paris is the other way. May I... may I read you a poem? No, certainly not. Oh, thank you, milord. If I were king, beneath your feet what treasures I would fling. The stars shall be your pearls upon a string. Come, milady. That does not sound well, coming from a woman's lips. No? Then how should it sound? It should sound softly as a poem, from the heart like a song. Ah, let these wild dreams and wilder words take wing. Deep in the woods I hear a shepherd sing a simple ballad to a silver mare of love that ever finds your face more fair. I could not give thee any godlier thing if I were king. To every child born today, one thing is assured. No matter what goals he may choose for himself, he will have a longer life in which to reach them. The average child born today can look forward to 16 more years of life than a child born in 1900. While the great forces of medical science working together are mastering one by one the diseases that cripple and kill. As its part in a whole great program of medical research, the House of Squibb is always seeking better ways to serve the doctor who serves you, pursuing an endless quest for perfection. That's why at Squibb today's discoveries hold the promise of even greater contributions tomorrow. That is why you and your doctor share a deep confidence in the House of Squibb. He has learned through the drugs he uses. You have learned through Squibb products you use every day that Squibb is a name you can trust. Next week, another great picture. The House of Squibb will present Academy Awards starring Rosalind Russell and Janet Blair in My Sister Eileen. Today's performance of If I Were King was written for radio by Frank Wilson with an original musical score composed and conducted by Leith Stevens. Our producer director is Dee Engelbott. This is Hugh Grundage bidding you good night until next week at the same time when you were invited to listen again to Academy Award presented by the House of Squibb, a name you can trust. This is CBS, the Columbia Broadcasting System.
