brought to you by The Val Lewton Screenplay Collection


                                   AN RKO RADIO PICTURE

                                       Final Script

                                      June 30, 1945

                                    CHAMBER OF HORROR

                                     A TALE OF BEDLAM

               BEHIND the MAIN and CREDIT TITLES appear a series of Hogarth
               paintings; one painting to each card. The painting which
               shows the "Industrious Apprentice" in church will be used to
               frame the MAIN TITLE. More elaborate and multicharactered
               paintings will be used until the final painting is "Bedlam."
               It is over this last painting that the narrative title
                                      LONDON - 1761
                           The people of the Eighteenth Century
                         called their Period "The Age of Reason"

               As this TITLE FADES, the MUSIC of the overture FADES WITH it
               and there can be heard the SOUND of shrieks, wild laughter
               and hysterical babbling.


               LOW CAMERA SETUP to show the face of the building between the
               two statues of "Madness" and "Melancholia" above the gates.
               The CAMERA TILTS to show the upper stories. As it reaches the
               cornice of the building, a man in dark small-clothes and a
               white shirt, can be seen clinging to the gutter four stories
               above the street. He has the fingers of one hand hooked over
               the gutter and is wildly scrambling to get a grip with the
               other hand. 

               CLOSE SHOT - the man, dangling from the roof, desperately


               A man with a lighted lantern in his hand, wearing great broad
               toed shoes, comes clumping along the gutter. He holds up the
               lantern to look for a moment at the struggling man.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - the CAMERA SHOOTING down OVER the

               shoulders of the man with the lantern. For a brief moment,
               the lantern light illuminates the white, desperate face of
               the clinging man. Then the man with the lantern grinds the
               other man's hand under his heavy heel. The man in the white
               shirt falls, screaming.


               The falling figure, as the man drops with a long, sustained
               shriek of desperation. The body crumples sickeningly on the
               sidewalk. People run in from either side. The door opens and
               a warder clatters down the steps.

               The CAMERA TILTS again and goes up past the doorway to focus
               on the lintel between the statues so that the inscription
               thereon can be read.

                            ST. MARY'S OF BETHLEHEM HOSPITAL 

                                  Asylum For The Insane

               EXT. LONDON STREET - NIGHT

               LONG SHOT. A closed carriage comes careening down the street,
               its lamps glowing, and the coachman and footman sitting
               austerely on the box.


               Lord Mortimer and Nell Bowen. Lord Mortimer is a blandly
               stout man, puffy as a Yorkshire pudding, with a belly that
               would do honor to Silenus.  He is of merry, but stupid,
               countenance and even in an age of rococo ostentation, his
               costume is outstandingly luxuriant. Actually, he is not a bad
               sort; only a little too rich and too foolish for his
               country's good.

               Like Lord Mortimer, his companion, Nell Bowen, is a product
               of her age; a beautiful girl, bold as a frigate, merry as a
               flag and with no more thought for right and wrong, or the
               problems of the future, than the parrot on her wrist. She
               would rather say a bright word than do a good deed. At the
               moment, she is amusing herself with her parrot. Lord
               Mortimer, between sniffs of snuff and the accompanying
               explosive sneeze, is rolling with laughter, his fat belly
               shaking. He stops long enough for Nell to coax her parrot to
               display its prowess.

                             (to the parrot)
                         Come, Poll, do you know my friend,
                         Lord Mortimer?
                             (prompting) )
                         Lord Mortimer — Lord Mortimer —

               The parrot finally deigns to let out a raucous yell.

                         Lord Mortimer is like a pig. His
                         brain's small and his belly big.

               Lord Mortimer is seized with paroxysms of laughter. He hugs
               Nell with familiarity in the abandon of his mirth.

               EXT. LONDON STREET - NIGHT

               MED. LONG SHOT - the coach. A few people running across the
               street are in danger of being run down. The coachman slows
               his team. A huckster, pushing his barrow before him,
               hastening to see the cause of the excitement, brings the
               carriage of Lord Mortimer to a complete halt.

               EXT. THE COACH - NIGHT

               MED. SHOT. Lord Mortimer is leaning forward to see what is
               going on. The footman starts to climb down.

               INT. THE COACH - NIGHT

               SHOOTING OUT PAST Nell Bowen and Lord Mortimer. The footman's
               head appears at the window.

                         What's this hub-bub?

                         One of the lunatics from the
                         asylum, I expect, Milord.

                         A prank? A jest?

                         Go and see, John.

               The footman turns and leaves and can be seen pushing his way
               through the crowd.

                             (looking out and up)
                         Bedlam --? It doesn't look so merry
                         a place, Milord. . .

                         Never been there?

               Nell, still looking, shakes her head.

                         You'll have to pay Master Sims
                         tupence to see the loonies in their
                         cages — maybe they can teach you
                         some new tricks, Nell.

                         I've no need of their wit to
                         entertain you, Milord.

               Lord Mortimer tries to get the kernel of the thought between
               his mental teeth. Before he can get it, John, the footman,
               comes back through the crowd.

                         They say, sir, that one of the poor
                         devils in there fell from the roof,
                         trying to escape.

                             (without any feeling)
                         Very regrettable — well, drive on.

                         (a little excitedly) 
                         Your Lordship — it seems to me the
                         man was known to you.


                         I thought I saw him in your company
                         not a week gone by.

                         Eh — really?

               He shifts himself ponderously forward on the cushioned seat.

                         Well, let's have a look.

               John holds the door open for him and he starts to get out.

               CLOSE SHOT - the step of the carriage as Lord Mortimer's
               satin-slippered foot is placed upon it. The step sags down
               and the carriage groans with his weight.

               MED. LONG SHOT - the crowd, SHOOTING PAST the rear wheels of
               the coach. Lord Mortimer, proceeded by the footman, makes his
               way through the crowd.

               ANOTHER ANGLE. On the pavement, in a disjointed fashion, the
               body of the man in the white shirt lies sprawling. Lord
               Mortimer bends over him.

                         You — with the light —

               The link boy advances his torch.

               LOW CAMERA SETUP.    The torch light illuminates a close view
               of Lord Mortimer's face.   '

                         (quietly and without change of
                         It is — it is young Master Colby.

               MED. FULL SHOT. Lord Mortimer turns to a man in a leather
               apron whose official capacity as a guard is demonstrated by
               the keys hung at his hip.

                         He fell trying to escape. Some of
                         our boobies haven't sense enough to
                         keep safe behind their bars.

                         Where is Sims? 

               The man shrugs.

                         Fetch him.

                         He is dining out, Milord.

                         Dining out with Colby's blood on
                         his hands! Do you know me?

                         (knuckling his forehead)
                         Yes, Milord,

                         Then tell Master Sims to wait upon
                         me in the morning. I have some few
                         words I wish to say to him.

               The warder bobs his forelock in deferential agreement. Milord
               turns away, striding through the crowd to his carriage.  .

                                                               FADE OUT

                                                                FADE IN                                                                                                                           

               INT. ANTE-CHAMBER OF LORD MORTIMER'S HOME - DAY                          

               The sun shines warmly into this little bright-bandbox of a
               room to illuminate the brooding figure of a man in a black
               coat. He sits with his chin upon the rounded head of his cane
               and the seamed wickedness of his heavy face, the thick woolen
               stuff of his clothes and even the stiff leather of his shoes,
               all make a sad contrast to the shining satin, polished wood
               and painted wall paper of this pretty apartment.

               This is Master Sims, Apothecary General of the Hospital,          
               St. Mary's of Bethlehem, pamphleteer to the Tory party,            
               a poetaster and a wit; a type de siecle cut from the                  
               same sharp cloth as Boswell, Johnson and Voltaire; men                
               of genius who were at the same time scoundrels and toadies.                                                                                                                   

               From the next room comes the shout of Nell's parrot and    
               the roaring laughter of Lord Mortimer. As Sims sits waiting,
               a small procession of servants pass bearing trays of covered
               dishes from which small clouds of steam escape. The last is
               an elaborately dressed little black-a-moor bearing a small
               silver mirror and a patch box. Sims interposes his cane
               before the colored boy, bringing him to a halt.                                                                                   

                         Will you remind Lord Mortimer that
                         I am waiting.

               The little black-a-moor gives him one look and passes on

               CLOSE SHOT - Master Sims relaxes again into a waiting
               posture. From Lord Mortimer's room comes another shout of
               laughter. He looks at the doorway with hatred, then quickly
               looks about the room, straightening his face as if afraid
               that even this momentary flash of true feeling might have be
               on seen.

               INT. LORD MORTIMER'S BED CHAMBER - DAY                                                  

               Lord Mortimer is still in bed surrounded by billowing                  
               cushions, so that the bed and his body are one great mass of
               globular curves. Nell Bowen, in a velvet riding habit, her
               train over her arm a crop in her hand

               and a cocky tricorn on her head, lounges at the foot of the
               bed. Beside her on a stand sits her parrot. The servants are
               busily setting out Lord Mortimer's breakfast table. The
               colored page has presented him with the mirror and is holding
               before him. Lord Mortimer selects a patch and looking in the
               mirror finds a place for it on his cheek. He pats It into
               place, then turns the mirror so that the little, colored boy
               can see it.

                         Well, Pompey, are you a pretty boy
                         this morning?

               Pompey looks into the mirror and makes a horrible grimace,
               contorting his face into what he conceives to be the very
               pink of ugliness.

               EXTREMELY CLOSE SHOT - of the mirror with Pompey's grimace
               reflected therein.

               MED. FULL SHOT - the group.

                         What are you trying to do, Pompey?

                             (looking up)
                         Milord, I want to look like the
                         visitor in the hallway.

                             (almost roaring as he sits
                              up in bed)
                         Sims! I'd forgotten Sims!
                             (to servants)
                         You there clear out. I want room
                         for anger.

               The servants hurriedly finish putting the last dishes on the
               breakfast table and, bowing,  start to take their departure
               from the room.

                             (calling after them gaily)
                         Send in the good Sims — first 
                         course for Milord's rage, to be
                         eaten with a sauce of Lightning,
                         and to the tune of thunder - Send
                         him in — send him in —

               INT. ANTE-CHAMBER -  DAY

               The servants come in from the inner room.    One of them
               starts over toward Sims who lifts his chin expectantly from
               his  cane.    Before the servant can speak there is a bellow
               from the other room.

                                   MILORD'S VOICE

               With a smirk the servant gestures toward the door.    Sims,
               rising slowly, passes into the other room.    As he goes
               through the doorway another bellow can be heard.

                                   MILORD'S  VOICE

               The door closes behind him.  With one-accord the servants
               cluster about the door, one  gluing his eye to the, keyhole, 
               another his ear to the panel.  There is a confused hub-bub of
               angry SOUNDS.  They grin maliciously. Suddenly, the door
               opens and the servants straighten up and try to look as if
               they had been engaged upon lawful errands, then relax as
               Pompey comes through the door.  He  looks them over coolly,
               shuts the door and then takes the key position at the


               Master Sims is  making an elegant "leg" before his Lordship.    
               Lord Mortimer is in  full  spate.

                         --  that you hated him I knew, that
                         you envied him was known to all,
                         but that you would dare -- dare to 
                         leave that murderous window open -- 
                         to murder him from spite  and envy -

                         Murder, Milord? There was no
                         murder. Jackson was my guest. 
                         He decided to leave the window
                         before I could open the door for
                         him and then -- that monstrous

                         Accident? Master Sims is writing a
                         new dictionary.

               Both men look at her, completely puzzled.

                         Are accidents contrived, plotted,

               Sims looks at her for a moment, appraising and judging his
               antagonist, then he smirks.

                         Exactly,   Mistress Bowen.    This
                         was  a misadventure  contrived by
                         the  victim and executed by
                         nature's law that those who lose
                         their grip on gutters must fall.

                         You stick to that story, Master

                         I could never invent one half so
                         droll. The characters of the tale;
                         two poets — Colby and myself. But I
                         am not only a poet, but also, by
                         your Lordship's favor, the
                         Apothecary General of St. Mary's of
                         Bethlehem Hospital. My friend comes
                         to discuss poetry. I am absent. My
                         guards mistake my friend for a mad
                         man. He attempts to escape from
                         them and is killed -- like a
                         romance, Milord.

                         It's a romance that cost me twenty
                         guineas and a night of laughter.

                         How so, Milord?

                             (breaking in)
                         Lord Mortimer was foolish enough to
                         pay in advance for poetry promised
                         in the future. Jackson was to write
                         a masque for the fete Lord Mortimer
                         is giving.

                         (almost cringing in his servility)
                         If I could offer my humble talents 
                         - even at the hospital I deal in
                         wit and laughter, Madame. Are there
                         any who have come to Bedlam and say
                         the entertainment is not worth the
                         tupence they paid?

                         You don't entertain me, Master

                         That is because you have a tender
                         heart. Most people laugh at my

                         It offends me, sir.

                             (with a gracious gesture)
                         To move a lady so beautiful in any
                         way --

                         He's gallant, too.

                         I am as you wish, Milord, and I
                         shall make your fete a frolic you
                         will remember.'


                         Sometimes the success of the play
                         belongs to the players. What if the
                         masque were performed by my company
                         of wits, the Bedlamites?

                         Have your loonies perform?

               He begins to laugh at the thought.

                         The opposition --- not John Wilkes
                         nor his whole Whig Party -- could
                         think of anything as clever as
                         that, eh, Nell?

                         You didn't think of it either.

                         Well, it's one and the same thing —

               He waves his hand in Sims' general direction.

                         My friend, here, thought of it.

                         Let us say that you inspired the
                         thought, Milord.

                             (immensely pleased)
                         You hear that Nell? I inspired him.

               Nell looks from Lord Mortimer to Sims and back again. She
               says nothing.

                             (trying to draw her into
                              this community of good
                         Let us say that you both inspired
                         me — Milord and the beloved of

               Nell flashes him a quick, hard look.

                         I think you misunderstand, Master
                         Sims. I am Milord's protege. I
                         entertain him and
                         he has no more freedom with me than
                         any other man.

               There is a short silence. Both men are embarrassed.

                         I£, Milord, will but give me the
                         day and hour of the fete, I'll
                         prepare a masque of madness to set
                         you howling.

                         A week from today at the Vauxhall.
                         The company assembles at eight.

                         Thank you.
                             (to Milord)
                         With your leave --

               He indicates the door. Milord waves a fat but graceful hand.
               With another bow, Sims backs toward the door. Milord reaches
               for the cup of chocolate on the stand and begins to drink
               from a tiny china cup; a cup that looks like a thimble in his
               pudgy hand. He begins to laugh. Nell looks at him

                         A merry notion --

                         The Lord Mayor will roll in the
                         soup with laughter.

                         A capital fellow this Sims -- a
                         capital fellow.

                         If you ask me,  Milord,  he's a
                         stench  in the  nostrils,  a  sewer
                         of ugliness and a gutter brimming
                         with slop.

                         But witty.

                             (with a smile)
                         So he tells us.

                         Even if his wit is wanting his
                         Bedlamites will set my guests
                         roaring.    Everyone who goes  to
                         Bedlam expires with laughter.
                         Why don't  you go and see them,
                         Nell?    You'll see how funny they

                         Perhaps I will.


               A  group of three Cockney girls carrying baskets  go past, 
               directing their  shouts of "Lavender, sweet lavender" toward 
               the houses  across  the  street from the asylum.    A  cart
               with a  canvas  tilt passes. In it are a bevy of young women, 
               fresh from the  country. They gawk  at  the  grey walls  of
               Bedlam,  pointing their fingers and chattering among

               (See Hogarth's "Harlot's Progress,  Plate #1")    A dandy on
               the sidewalk looks at the girls in the slowly moving cart
               through his quizzing glass. A scrub woman is  scrubbing the 
               steps  to the hospital entrance.

               Walking heavily,   letting his weighty cane aid him, Master
               Sims  comes down the   street.    At the entrance steps he 

               MED. CLOSE SHOT -  the charwoman looks up.    Towering above
               her  is the lord of this mad-domain.  Hurriedly she  begins
               to wipe dry the  step  she had been scrubbing. Sims  stands 
               quietly until she has  finished, then, without a word or a
               nod, passes  on up -the  stairs. Almost instantly a warder
               opens it and respectfully steps aside to let Sims enter,    
               Sims passes him without a salutation or without even noticing
               the man's hand deferentially at his forelock.

                                                       DISSOLVE OUT

                                                       DISSOLVE IN

               INT. SIMS' OFFICE - DAY

               This is a cluttered apartment. Books, manuscripts, bottles,
               pipes, canes and other oddments and oddments are scattered
               about in a disorderly fashion.  In a corner of the room is a
               counting desk, Perched on a high stool is a slim wraith-like
               creature of the male sex with an enormous periwig atop a tiny
               head so that he looks like a spider with a fleck of wool on
               his head. He lays down a quill-pen on his ledger and rises to
               greet Sims with a low bow. This worthy clerk is called Guy

                             (making a leg)
                         Good morning, Master Sims.

               Sims takes off his hat, throws it to one corner of the room,
               removes his scratch wig and lets it fall to the desk top.    

                         There is a Quaker waiting for you,
                         sir -- a master stone mason. Will
                         you have him in?

               Sims looks around the desk.

                         Podge where is my rhyming lexicon?
                         I want a rhyme for Mortimer.

                         That Quaker, sir -—

                         Whatever are you rattling on about? 
                         I have an important commission —- a
                         rhymed comedy for Milord Mortimer -
                         and you bother me with some
                         snivelling Quaker.

                         He's been waiting so long.


                             (with a glance at  the
                         Four hours, sir.

                         I waited three hours for Lord
                         Mortimer before he would give me a
                         dog's word. Let him wait.

                         He will not wait. He's a good
                         workman and cheap, I'm told.

                             (thinking a moment)
                         Let him in.

               EXT. HALLWAY - DAY

               Podge crosses to the door, leans out and beckons.

               INT. SIMS OFFICE -DAY

               In comes William Hannay, a young Quaker of about twenty-six,
               dressed in the plain, neat habit of his sect. His  hair is
               unpowdered and is square cut. He looks both neat and washed,
               which is a great deal more than can be said for even the
               luxurious person of Lord Mortimer, to say nothing of the
               fusty garments and dirty scratch wig of Master Sims. Podge
               stands by the door while the Quaker advances and stands
               before Sims' desk. Sims, who has returned to his perusal of
               the book, does not lift his head. The Quaker stands silently.
               Podge makes a nervous SOUND in his throat. Sims pays not the
               least bit of attention. There is an awkward silence, then
               Sims, very deliberately, closes the book and looks up. 

                         You may leave us, Podge.                                                                            

               Podge fusses out the door.

                         My clerk tells me that you will do
                         the work cheaply.                                                                   

                         With cut stone one foot thick and
                         the best mortar, I could do the
                         work for fifteen guineas.

                         What if I were to give you eighteen

                         It would be too much.

                             (as If he had not heard)
                         Eighteen guineas and you are to
                         return to me two — then you would I
                         have a better price and I would I
                         have some reason to employ you. 

                         My friend —- I have forgotten what
                         thee has said. If thee do not
                         repeat it, then I can believe no
                         evil of thee.                      

                         What kind of can't is this? I've
                         asked you for a bribe, man! You've
                         never been asked before? This is
                         simple business between us two.

                             (obviously controlling his
                         My friend, about the stone masonry -

               At his moment, the door bursts open and Nell Bowen comes
               sailing into the room.

               Sims reaches hastily for his scratch wig, slaps it on his
               head and rises, smiling. Nell is in riding clothes and has a
               crop in her hand.

                         I had not looked forward to the
                         pleasure of seeing you so                  
                         I soon again, Mistress Bowen.

               Nell Bowen, out of the corner of her eye, gives the Quaker an
               appraising look, speaking to Sims as she does so.

                         I have a curiosity to see the
                         loonies in their cages.                        

                         And so you shall — and so you

               Sims goes around the desk and offers her his arm with half
               bow. She places her gloved hand on his elbow. Hannay steps
               aside to let them pass out the door. 


               Sims and Nell come out into the corridor and he guides her
               toward the left. Behind them Hannay emerges from the office
               and stands waiting.

               ANOTHER ANGELS - Nell and Sims walk down the hall.    At the
               rack, Sims pauses.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT. - Sims and Nell. She looks up at the rack.
               There are some gentlemen's hats, two small swords, a bludgeon
               and a sheathed dirk on a broad leather belt hanging from this
               apparatus. A guard stands beside it, Sims puts out his hand
               for Nell's riding whip She looks puzzled and draws away from

                         Your riding crop. Mistress Bowen.
                         You must hang it here. It's a law
                         of the institute — no weapons —

                         For Heaven's sake, why?

                         In his play, Dekker, a second-rate
                         dramatist of the last century,
                         wrote of those in there --

               He gestures to the door at the end of the corridor.

                         "Fierce as wild bulls/ untamable as
                         flys,/ And these have oft/ from
                         stranger's sides,/ Snatched rapiers
                         suddenly/ and done much harm."

                         Strangely — one forgets you are a
                         man of letters, Master Sims.

               Neil hands him her whip. He hangs it on the rack.

                         Our hospital is ancient and well
                         known -- much written of —- I dare
                         say, no man or woman comes to
                         London from the country who does
                         not pay his tupence.

               He puts out his hand, palm up and Nell fumbles for a moment
               in a reticule at her waist, brings forth some coins, counts
               out two coppers and puts them in his hand. He smiles and
               offers her his arm again.

               TRUCKING SHOT - The CAMERA on a crane, DOLLIES BEFORE Nell
               and Sims as they walk toward the doors at the end of the
               corridor; The nearer they get to the door the closer the
               CAMERA is to Nell's face so that finally she is in full CLOSE
               UP. As she walks down the corridor strange cries, shrieks,
               bursts of laughter and hysterical babblings grow louder and
               louder, Nell, listening as she walks, grows more intent and
               wondering. So long as Sims continues in the frame, he is
               watching her reaction to these SOUNDS with cruel amusement.

               As the CAMERA BACKS THROUGH the double doors, the doors
               opening to either side, Nell's face is in  FULL CLOSE-UP. 
               Both she and the CAMERA STOP.

               The CAMERA HOLDS just long enough to convey the look of
               horror on her countenance, then activated by the crane, the
               CAMERA SWOOPS UP and BACK to reveal the SOUND and fury of

               (Note to Director: Please use care with the following
               sequences according to conversation regarding the showing of
               insane and lunatic persons.)

               The main ward of Bedlam from the superior height of the
               camera is shown as a strange, unearthly place. Barred windows
               set high in the wall push dust-filled beams of sunlight
               across the room, leaving the larger portion of the great hall
               in shadow,  In these shadows and in the blinding sunlight,
               strange, aimless human beings can be dimly seen. At the same
               moment that this curious room reveals itself to the eye the
               horrid SOUND of Bedlam bursts upon the ear; the moans, the
               shrieks, the maniacal laughter and the bird-like twitter of
               idiocy. At the far end of the room, Sims leads Nell from the
               dark doorway to a blazing square of sunlight.

               FULL SHOT - Sims and Nell.  Nell looks about her. What she
               sees is one small section of the main hall of Bedlam. Near
               the stairway are the open doors of two rooms through which
               the mad inmates can be seen.

               (This set up should approximate the picture of Bedlam by
               Hogarth, with Sims and Nell in the places of the mistress and
               the maid, visitors to the institution who can be seen in the
               left middle b.g. of the painting.)

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Nell and Sims are seen through the weaving
               ribbons in the fumbling hands of an idiot who is amusing
               himself at "Cats Cradle."

                         Are they not witty, Mistress Bowen?
                         Look at the frolic that this one
                         treats himself to. All day long
                         weaving nets to catch peacocks for
                         the Royal dinner.

               He forces a laugh,  Nell looks at him.

                             (quietly; still shocked by
                              the first contact with
                              the insane; almost as if
                              to herself)
                         They are all so lonely -- they are
                         all in themselves and by
                         themselves. They pay no heed to us.

                             (smiling faintly)
                         You noticed  that.  They have their
                         world and we have ours.

                             (still speaking almost as
                              if to herself) )
                         Like separate dreams.

                         Ours  is a human world, theirs  is
                         a bestial world -- without reason
                         and without soul.    They're

               He  takes her arm.

               TRUCKING SHOT - Nell and Sims as they approach a pillar that
               holds up the roof of the great hall. At a small table butted
               against this pillar sits a quiet, decently dressed man,
               Oliver Todd, the author, who is busily writing with a quill
               pen, Sidney Long, a tall, slim man of early middle age with a
               bald head and dressed in breeches and waistcoat leans against
               the table. Crouched at the foot of the table is a timorous
               young maniac, Dan, whose eyes are wide with countless, unseen

                         (as they come up to this group)
                         Some are dogs, These I beat.

               He lifts his hand and Dan, the Dog, crouches away from him in
               abject fear,

                             (as they continue to walk)
                         --and some are pigs.
                             (he points)

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - A dirty man.  This man has matted unkempt
               hair and board and crouches down in a mass of soiled rags.

                         --these I let wallow in their own

               They pass on.

               TRUCKING SHOT - Sims and Nell.

                         Some are tigers -- their remedy is
                         a dose of iron -- chains.

               He pauses and points.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - to show the barred doorway of the room in
               which Tom, the Tiger is confined. This is a gigantic maniac. 
               The rents of his garments show the muscles of his torso and
               arms. He is chained to the wall; one chain binds his right
               arm to the wall, another chain passes about his waist and
               through  in the wall behind him; other chains hold his legs.
               Only his left arm and hand are free and with this hand he is
               plucking at the chain which binds his torso.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Dorothea, a young girl in a grey gown, her
               dark hair falling about her shoulders. She stands statue-like
               by a pillar, her eyes set in a vision of far away worlds. 
               Not a muscle moves in the face of this victim of melancholia.
               As Sims and Nell come up to her, Sims stops and with a coarse
               hand pats the cheek of the insane girl, the contemptuous sort
               of pat one would give a heifer in passing a stall.

                         —- and some, like this one are

               Nell looks at him with aversion.

                         I've seen enough.

               She turns and starts away.

               TRUCKING SHOT - Sims catches up with Nell and lays his hand
               on her elbow.

                         But you haven't seen the ones in
                         the cages —-

                         I've seen enough.

               She marches resolutely toward the door.


               Nell, with Sims a pace behind her, comes out the double doors
               and starts toward the rack.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - the rack with the Quaker in the b.g. Sims
               and Nell come up, and Nell reaches for her whip. Sims, with
               exaggerated politeness forestays her and hands it to her

                         -- but you have no idea how merry
                         they can be -- what amusement they
                         afford --

                         Amusement? From that mad girl with
                         her staring eyes?

               CLOSE TWO SHOT - Nell and Sims. With a sudden exasperated
               movement, Nell lifts the whip and brings it down in a
               smashing blow across Sims' cheek.

               Sims nursing his cheek, makes a leg, backing away from her.

                         If I have offended you, Mistress
                         Bowen --

               Nell starts to lift the whip and he backs away from her. She
               turns and starts rapidly away, flouncing past the Quaker
               without giving him so much as a look.

               CLOSE SHOT - Sims, as he watches, Nell.

               EXT. ST. MARY'S OF BETHLEHEM - NOON

               Before the door of the hospital stands a gnarled, misshapened
               little valet, wearing postillion boots and holding the
               bridles of two blooded horses. One of these horses carries a
               side-saddle. They move restively and he calms them by patting
               their necks.

               Suddenly, the door of Bedlam bursts open and Nell, without
               bothering to close it, comes quickly down the steps.  Behind
               her in the doorway, the Quaker appears and starts coming down
               the steps.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - As Nell comes to her valet. She crosses
               quickly to her horse, Varney cups his hand for Nell's foot to
               help her mount. As she starts to put her foot between his
               hands, she makes a sudden quick movement to transfer her crop
               from her left to her right hand. The suddenness of the
               movement alarms Varney's horse. It rears and Nell's horse
               shies and pulls away from Varney. He tries to hold the reins
               as the horse rears and plunges.
               Suddenly, Hannay steps in, takes the reins from the little
               valet, and after a brief struggle, he subdues the horse,
               holds it for a moment patting Its neck to calm it.

                         Thank you, sir.
                         My valet can plait a tress or twirl
                         a furbelow quicker than a handy
                         woman, but he has no knack with

                         I was glad to do thee this service,
                         I saw thee strike Sims. Thee should
                         not have done that.

                         Do you think I'm afraid of him? Do
                         you think he could harm me?

                         Thee are able enough.  It is the
                         poor ones in there I'm thinking of. 
                         Sims will make them suffer for that

                         Are we lovers, that you "thee" and
                         "thou" me? I've never seen your
                         face before,

                         He's a Quaker, Mistress Bowen,

               He goes through an absurd performance of shaking and
               shuddering. Hannay looks at him with deep resentment,

                         My name is William Hannay. I am one
                         of the Society of Friends.

                         I've heard of them. They turn the
                         other cheek,

                         There's more to being a Quaker than
                         turning the other check, and saying
                         "thee"  and  "thou".
                         It's feeling pity for those in
                         there, as  you did,

                         Do you think I struck him because I
                         felt pity for the loonies?

                         I saw it in thy face.

               Nell forces a laugh.

                         Pity? I had no such feelings, sir.
                         I struck the man because I wanted
                         to — because he is an ugly thing in
                         a pretty world.

                         There are many ugly things in this
                         pretty world, if thou would but see

                             (looking at him directly)
                         Master Quaker, I did not always
                         wear velvet.

                         Eh, I had guessed that. But where
                         there is one like thee to wrest
                         comfort from a hard world with wit
                         and  cleverness there are ten
                         thousand who can not.

                         I have no pity for them. Let them
                         do as I did.

                         But those in there --
                         Can they help themselves?

                         And I have no pity for them, either
                         -- animals without souls --

                         That is not thy thoughts.

                         Is it not? Come a week hence to
                         Vauxhall in the evening and you
                         will see me laughing at those same
                         loonies you think I pity.

               Nell makes a motion to Varney who cups his hands again. Nell
               places her foot in his hands and mounts her horse.

                         Thou will not laugh at the poor and
                         the afflicted -- not  thee. I have 
                         seen great ladies and their hearts
                         were like stone, but thee --

               As Varney mounts, Nell looks down at Hannay,

                             (gathering her horse)
                         My heart is a flint,  sir --  it
                         may strike  sparks,  but they are
                         not warm enough to burn.     I have
                         no time to make a show of loving
                         kindness before my fellow men --
                         not in this life. I've too much
                         laughing to do.

               She strikes her booted foot against the horse's flank. Varney
               rides after her.    Hannay watches them.

                                                       FADE OUT

                                                       FADE IN


               The CAMERA SHOOTING OVER the  necks of two  fiddles

               DISCLOSES a night scene  from Fragonard:    At a long table
               covered with linen and gleaming with silver is a gay company.   
               The men are  in court dress and powdered wigs; the women in
               bouffant skirts.    The whole scene is illuminated by
               lanterns hung on tree limbs and in the bushes and shrubbery
               of the  gardens.

               At one end of the table stands a structure not unlike the
               tall, narrow apparatus which Punch and Judy shows are given.  
               A curtain hangs across the face of this box hiding its
               contents from view.

               The CAMERA EDGES BACK TO show the two musicians  in the
               foreground who sit on the  lawn,  their backs against the
               bole  of a great oak.:    One la playing a violin,-the-—
               other a viola and behind them,   standing leaning against the
               trunk of the  tree is another musician with a

               Suddenly from the right a tumbler in multi-colored garments 
               comes whirling  in, head over heels, a torch in either hand.   
               His last violent somersault brings him right side up in front
               of the table.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Lord Mortimer at the  center of the table
               with Nell at his right hand and another lady on his left.    
               In front of the table  is Sims,  dressed in court satins and
               wearing a white wig on his head.    The acrobat, torches in
               either outstretched hand, has come to a  stop just beside

               REVERSE SHOT -  SHOOTING OVER Lord Mortimer's shoulder. Sims,
               grinning, holds the acrobat's head in his hands at table
               level, his right hand under the man's chin and his left hand
               on top of his head.    The effect is that of a man who holds
               a manikin head,   inasmuch as the acrobats face is masked
               with a  sharp-nosed Venetian mask through which the eves
               gleam in mad fun,

                         --and here,  Milord,   is  the 
                         spirit of Lunacy to   illuminate
                         the Golden Age of Reason —

               He  releases  the mad acrobat's head.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - With a prodigious  leap the acrobat

               whirls,  somersaults and lands on his knees  in front  of the  
               gaily painted box.    He holds up his  torches and the 
               curtains   slowly part to reveal what appears to be a gilded
               statue;  the subject a youth crowned with bays, a loin cloth
               around his hips and a golden orb and scepter  in his hands,

               ANOTHER ANGLE -  to  include  the entire table.    There  is
               a stir among Milord's guests; exclamations of delight and a 
               light patter of applause.    Sims bows.

                         Lit by Lunacy and speaking with the 
                         voice of Youth,  the Age of Reason
                         will  tell you of its brightest
                         adornment--(with a gesture) Milord

               MED.  CLOSE SHOT - The  gilded boy moves forward to the

               little stage-like projection at the opening of the box. For
               the  first  time it  can be seen  that this  is not a statue,
               but a young boy of about twelve covered from head to  foot
               with gold leaf.    Now that his  eyes are open,   they stare
               wildly pale in contrast to the gilded skin.    He tries to
               speak, gasps, and tries again.

               MED. FULL SHOT - with Sims in the foreground.

                         Come Reason, you've wit enough
                         to say a word or two.

               The boy tries again.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT -  Lord Mortimer as he half rises and calls
               down to the end of the table.

                         What say you to this Wilkes --a mad
                         boy playing Reason. That's a Tory
                         joke for you.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT ,  The end of  the  table.    Here  sit Lord
               Sandwich and John Wilkes.  A pretty girl sits between them 
               with numerous  patches on her face.  Wilkes bends across to
               speak to Lord Mortimer.

                         ...And only the Tories laugh at
                         it.    The opposition wonders what
                         the  effect may be on that sick
                         young boy.    The Tories  care only
                         for the  jest, we Whigs have  some
                         concern for the humanities.

               MED.  CLOSE SHOT -  Milord.

                         You hear that,  Nell —  give them a 
                         jest and  they answer with a
                         political tirade.

                         He said something about the boy --
                         the effect --?

                         Go and ask him. He'll make you a
                         speech on the matter.

               Nell shrugs.

               MED.  FULL SH0T - The gilded boy - Sims in the f.g. and part
               of the  company at  that end of the  table.

                                   GILDED BOY
                         To this pretty world —

               CLOSE SHOT - Nell.

                                   GILDED BOY'S VOICE
                             (fumbling over the words)
                         — pretty world --

               She looks thoughtful, then starts to rise.

               FULL SHOT - The entire company as Nell starts down toward
               Wilkes'  end of the table. (Note to Director:  Please avoid
               showing the full figure of the gilded boy as much as possible
               by using the voice to gain such effects as can be had.)

                                   GILDED BOY
                         To this pretty world, there came
                         Heaven sent, Divinely Inspired —-

               He breaks off.

                         Good — good — the great voice of

                                   GILDED BOY 
                         The blessing of our age —

               He stops again.

                             (prodding him with his
                         Come, come! I spent all morning
                         beating it into your head.

               The people at the table laugh. The gilded boy drops the
               scepter and clutches his throat as if it pained him.

                             (Turning to Lord Mortimer)
                         You see, Milord, Reason is overcome
                         with emotion when it must speak of

                         Prod him on, Sims.

                         Come on! A few more of those golden
                         words I taught you, lad.

                                   GILDED BOY
                         A man set like a jewel --

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - The other end of the table.    Nell is
               bending over Wilkes' shoulder to speak to him. He is half

                         The effect? Somewhere I heard that
                         the human body must breathe through
                         its pores. If you shut those pores -

               He gestures toward the glided boy.  Nell looks over, nods and
               starts back.

               Nell looks over.

               EXTREME LONG SHOT - The young lunatic in his bright gilt is
               writhing in agony. By now the orb, too, has joined the
               spectre on the ground. Sims points at him _with his pane. 

                         Another word, good, gentle Reason.

                                   GILDED BOY
                             (in a voice choked with
                         — this prince of men, this paragon -

               He stops, fighting for breath.

                         Go on.

               CLOSE SHOT - Lord Mortimer with the two ladies on either
               side. He is laughing and the hand that holds his wine glass
               shakes with mirth and the wine drops over the satin of his
               coat and stains the ruffles at his wrist.
               The woman at his left bends forward, eager and excited by the
               pain she witnesses. Her face is set.

                                   SIMS' VOICE
                         Go on -- go on!

               MED. FULL SHOT -- Sims and the glided boy -- Sims prods at
               him with his cane.

                                   GILDED BOY
                             (forcing it out)
                         Lord Mortimer —-

               He falls to the ground and lies still.

               FULL SHOT - The table. There Is a general stir, but most of
               this movement is the excitement of laughter.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - as Nell comes to stand beside Lord       

                         Bless me, Nell, better than                                        
                         your parrot -- what an eulogy -—                                    
                         from a mad boy freezing with ague                                   
                         and burning with fevers.                                         

               Nell looks at him without replying.                                

               MED. FULL SHOT - Sims bending over the boy.  Two footmen with
               white aprons over their livery come into the scene.

                             (to the servants)
                         Duck him in the river -- a
                         bit of canvas and a handful of
                         coarse sand will get the gilt off.

               As he says this,Nell leans across the table toward him.

                         Master Sims —

               He turns in her direction.

                         Isn't that harsh treatment for a
                         sick lad?

                         They have to get off the gilt if
                         he's to be well again.

                         So you know that.                                                                          

               Sims looks at her with an air of surprise.

                         Know what, Mistress Bowen?                                        

                         You know that anyone painted                                                 
                         over so thick as this poor lad                                         
                         will die.                                                                                    

               ANOTHER ANGLE - the table. This has become more                                 
               interesting than the guests had anticipated.  They are
               craning forward eagerly some still half-smiling from                
               their former laughter.                                                                                           

               CLOSE SHOT - Sims.

                         If I understand you properly, this
                         boy is dying because --

               A footman kneeling, beside the boy looks up and plucks at
               Sims' sleeve. Sims looks down.

                         The boy is dead, sir.

                         (correcting himself)
                         -- the boy is dead because his
                         pores were clogged by the gilt.

               GROUP SHOT.

                         Well, then, sweet Mistress Bowen,
                         as you are such a stickler for the
                         correct definition, you will grant
                         me the legal fact that this boy
                         died by his own exhalations. You
                         might say — he poisoned himself.

               FULL SHOT - the table. As the guests hear this, they burst
               into loud laughter.

                             (to Sims)
                         Where shall we take him?

                         I have told you -- the river —
                         canvas — sand -- there is no change
                         in my order.

               The servants start to pick up the boy.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - SHOOTING PAST Nell as she watches the
               servants carry away the limp body of the boy. Then she looks
               at Lord Mortimer. He Is pouring wine; his chuckles subsiding.
               She looks to the right. A fop is seated there, licking pastry
               off his fingers.

                         Milord -- have we not had enough of


                         (pointing to Sims)
                         Enough of this boring, dull man and
                         his cruelty. "

                         But we're all laughing, Nell.

                         I'm not laughing, Milord..

                         He shall make you laugh.

                         Spare me that.

               She starts to turn away.

                         But Nell —

                         A boy died tonight —- a boy -- a
                         boy who had no mind to guide his
                         thoughts or deeds — maybe there'll
                         be some concern about that among
                         the Whigs. There certainly is none
                         among the Tories.

                         Oh, you'll find they're laughing

               She starts away and he gives her a little push in back as if
               it were a benediction and a blessing. She moves off.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Wilkes, Lord Sandwich and the paramour of
               that nobleman.

                                   LORD SANDWICH
                         Liberty — that is a great word you
                         Whigs found somewhere, but just the
                         same, you'll end either with the
                         pox or on the gallows.

                         That, Milord, depends on whether I
                         embrace your sweetheart or your

               Lord Sandwich and his companion burst out laughing.       
               Wilkes Joins in.                                                            

               ANOTHER ANGLE. It is at this moment that Nell comes walking
               up behind them. She has not heard what was said; she hears
               only the laughter. She looks at them for a moment without
               speaking, then with a look of disappointment, walks off.

               LONG SHOT - Lord Mortimer's end of the table.

               Sims is leading up a young lady whose face is also adorned
               with a Venetian mask. This one is fringed and hung with tiny

                             (with the air of one who
                              is master of ceremonies)
                         Here is Alfrieda, Queen of the
                         Artichokes. She will sing for you.

               FULL SHOT as seen from Nell's angle. She hears the roar of
               laughter and sees the poor, mad wench trembling at Sims'
               side, then turns and passes into the darkness between the
               trees. As she does so, a cracked female voice can be heard
               beginning the song. "One World's Turned Upside Down."


               EXT. LONDON STREET - NIGHT

               CLOSE SHOT - a barber shop window. (See Hogarth's painting, 
               "Night".)    The window is set with small square panes of
               glass.    In each pane is a short candle. This candle-light
               illuminates not only the interior of the barber shop but also
               a portion of the darkness outside.    Through the window, as
               in the Hogarth painting, a barber can be seen shaving a
               customer, holding the customer's nose between thumb and
               forefinger to steady his head. The CAMERA DRAWS BACK TO show
               a doorway at one side of the barber shop.    On this doorway
               is lettered

                                  THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS

                                      Meeting House

               As the CAMERA HOLDS on this doorway,  the doors open and
               Quaker men and women come quietly out into the street. Some
               walk one way, some the other.  William Hannay comes out and
               starts down past the barber shop.  As the light from the
               candle-lit window falls on him, a voice from the other side
               of the street calls his name,

                                   NELL'S VOICE
                         Master Hannay --

               Hannay stops abruptly puzzled.

               MED. FULL SHOT - Nell's carriage, parked on the other side of
               the street.  Varney opens the door and Nell, in all the
               finery she wore at the fete, comes out and  sweeps across the
               street, the CAMERA PANNING WITH her.

               FULL TWO SHOT - Nell as she comes up to Hannay,

                         This is a strange place to see
                         thee, Mistress Bowen,

                             (looking around)
                         A little dull perhaps — but a good
                         enough place to ask the                                                  
                         questions I want to ask.

                         So far, Mistress Bowen, I have
                         found thee more ready with                                                      
                         answers then with questions.

                         Don't fear -- my questions are pert
                         enough. First, do you                                                    
                         think me a woman of kind heart?  

                         So I have told thee.


                         I saw thy face at Bedlam — it had
                         compassion and kindness.

                         I have never seen that in my                                                  
                         mirror. But let's say I grant                                              
                         the fact — let's say I saw                                                    
                         things that moved me to pity --                                          
                         what then, Master Quaker?

                         Perhaps God sent thee here so that
                         thee might find guidance -—                                           

                         From you?

                         I have not said so.

                         Well,  from whom then?

                         Perhaps he  sent  thee  so that we
                         might  speak together.

                         I have  seen things  tonight  I
                         have no  liking for  — my friends 
                         laughing at sorry idiots brought
                         out  from Bedlam to  amuse  them -- 
                         a poor boy --

                         Thou need not tell me. It Is                                                  
                         a bad time for the poor -- and                                              
                         people suffer, the ones With wit      
                         and the ones-without.

                         And if you feel sorry for them -—
                         what do you do about all this?

                         I do what I can. I am a stone

                         How does that help people?

                         I build well -- let others build as
                         well — and soon this city will                                    
                         be a clean and decent habitation.                                         

                         But what of me? What can I do? I'm
                         only a jester to bring laughter to
                         Lord Mortimer's dinner table.                                            

                         Perhaps even in the amusement of                                        
                         Mortimer there may be a way for
                         thee to help the poor people in
                         Bedlam. Is not Mortimer a member of
                         the Council?                            

               She looks at him for a moment, then nods her head.

                         Good. You're not such a fool as                                         
                         I thought you.                                                                              
                         (suddenly flirtatious and feminine)                                                                    
                         But why  don't you remove your                                                  
                         hat — have you no liking for me?                                        

               Almost instinctively the Quaker starts to lift his hand           
               to his hat brim then stops and brings it down to his              

                         It is a rule among the Friends to
                         uncover only before God.                                                      

               She  smiles at his confusion. He smiles back at her           

                                                               FADE OUT

                                                               FADE  IN


               CLOSE SHOT -  Pompey.  The little colored boy is seated on a
               high stool,  examining with a dandified air the polish of his
               finger nail.    He  turns  from this elegant diversion to 
               the  disdainful  contemplation of some person at  the  other
               aide of the  room.

               The   CAMERA  PANS WITH his  glance   to reveal  Master Sims
               in his  snuff-brown  coat,  his   chin on his  cane,  waiting
               as he  waited before.

               ANOTHER ANGLE  of   the room -  showing  the  door  to Lord
               Mortimer's chamber.    The door opens,  a  gentleman Is                     
               = ushered out by a footman, who,  holding the door open,

               turns to Sims.                                                                                                         

               FOOTMAN Milord will see you now, Master Sims.

               Sims rises slowly, crosses to the door and goes through it, 
               Pompey watches him with lofty interest. When the ..                          
               door closes-behind Sims, Pompey returns to the elegant

               examination of his finger nails,

               INT. LORD MORTIMER'S chamber - DAY                                                               

               Milord, dressed in his small clothes but without his coat, is
               seated before his poudoir.  His valet is in attendance.  At
               the moment of Sir-is' entrance, Lord Mortimer has his fat
               face deep within a paper cone and the valet is sprinkling
               powder on his dressed wig,

               Nell is seated on a straight chair beside a little table on
               which is a plate of biscuits and a glass of wine.  She is
               nibbling at a biscuit.

                         (making a leg)
                         Good morning, Mistress Bowen,

                         Good morning.

               Lord Mortimer emerges from the powder cone,

                         Ah, there, Sims -- Ah, Sit down                                            
                         and wait a bit, I've news for you.                                         

               He puts his face back in the cone,                                                              

                             (to Nell)
                         I trust you enjoyed the fete.

                         You will hear presently how much I
                         enjoyed it.

               Lord Mortimer emerges from the cone. The valet takes .     ;

               it away from him and begins to whisk the loose powder

               from his shoulders,                                                                                           

                         Sims, you've no idea what we've
                         decided,  Nell has a splendid

               notion.  She wants to turn                                                       

               Bedlam upside down -- make all                                              

               the loonies happy as linnets,

               SIMS Mistress Bowen is very kind.

               You can't imagine what a  clever

               vixen  she  is,  Sims---   thought

               it all out before she  oven  spoke

               to me  -- beds  -¦- blankets  --                                            

               some  to  sow and some   to bake  --

               good food — a  practical lass,

                         I can quite understand what
                         Mistress  Bowen wants.    We've
                         needed good beds and good food in
                         Bedlam for a long while,

                         You've  forgotten to mention good
                         treatment,  Master Sims,

                         That, too,  I'm sure we could
                         afford that.

               He pauses, looking at Nell.

                         You can't imagine what gratitude I
                         bear you, Mistress Bowen,  Those
                         reforms you propose will make my
                         name stand out in the history of
                         Bedlam --

               The valet begins to hang a sash around Lord Mortimer's bosom. 
               Lord Mortimer rises to facilitate this ministration,

                             (to Sims)
                         We know you'd agree.

                         I'm overjoyed, Milord,

                         Good — good.
                             (to Nell)
                         You see, it's done, Nell -- not a
                         bit of trouble.

                         There is but one little point,
                         Milord — the trifling matter of

                         Milord has thought of that..

                         Of course — of course - the council
                         will vote the funds.

                         That is generous of you, Milord
                         very generous.

                         How so, Sims? What sort of

                         Does not Milord have property in

                         A dozen dwelling houses — a
                         warehouse — two inns. You see,
                         Sims, I know my accounts,

                         I know your properties. They are
                         taxable by the institute,
                         therefore, Milord, this reform
                         would cost you no loss than five
                         hundred guineas in additional
                         taxes.  But what is that to you,
                         Milord -- a more bagatelle — some
                         little gift you'd gladly give to
                         Mistress Bowen,

                         I'll relinquish that little gift,
                         Master Sims.

                         I gave you no gift, Nell.

                         She merely speaks, Milord, of a
                         gift she's not going to have.  Now
                         take Master Wilkes -- he would
                         never be so generous -- he would
                         say,  "Loonies don't vote."

                         But that's  true.    There is
                         nothing to be had from them.

                         You were going to do this as a kind
                         deed, Milord.

                         Five hundred guineas.

                         There would be so much I would have 
                         to do without.  We'll have to
                         forget this whim of yours, Nell.

                         It is not a whim, Milord. It is the
                         first thing I've asked of you. 

                         Now, Mistress Bowen, Milord has to
                         keep up appearances at Court —
                         that's a great expense to a man.

                         That's true.    You've no idea,
                         Nell, what a great responsibility
                         it is to be rich— what an expense. 

                         It's simply this, Milord — I've
                         asked you to do a good deed - and
                         you find the very thought of it too

                         You've no right to speak to me that
                         way, Nell.

                         I've all the rights of having put
                         up with you for almost a year
                         Milord —  trying to make you laugh
                         and then listening to that fat
                         laugh of yours as it comes rumbling
                         out of your fat throat.

                         Put up with me -- with me --

                         I said so.

                         But look what I've done for you.   
                         You'd be camping In the rain on
                         Strathmore  Common with the other
                         strolling players if you had not
                         caught my eye.

                         Do you call  that weak and watery
                         vessel your eye?    I would not
                         want to  look at the  world 
                         through it. I would not want  to be
                         a dull man forever  in need of
                         amusement.  I would not want to
                         bribe and be bribed -- to fawn upon
                         the king and kick the commoner  -
                         in short, Milord,   I would not
                         want to be Lord Mortimer.

                         Such angry words.

                         You would not want -- you would not
                         want --

                             (as  she starts for the
                         Nor do  I want to be with you --
                         not  for an  instant  longer -
                         maybe being rich and great and
                         powerful is  infectious  --  it's a
                         disease  I don't want  to  catch.
                         Goodbye,  Milord.

               At  the doorway she   turns.    An amused light  comes  into
               her eyes.  She first grins, then grimaces and  sticks her
               tongue  out at Lord Mortimer,

               INT. ANTE-CHAMBER  -  DAY

               Nell comes  quickly out  of  the door and passes with a rush
               through the  ante-chamber.  Pompey, still seated on  the high
               stool,  looks at her in astonishment. And when the wind of
               her passage subsides, he sits puzzling out  the meaning of 
               this passionate  exit. With a  shrug he gives up  the mental
               effort and takes  from his pocket a pair of "conquerors", 
               two chestnuts, each tied to a separate string,  which he
               proceeds  to  bang together to see which one "wins."    
               Then, as the door to the  inner room begins to open, he 
               quickly  stuffs  them back Into his  pocket and assumes a
               formal air.   Sims  and Lord Mortimer appear in the doorway.   
               Lord Mortimer's arm is  familiarly about the shoulders of the 
               other man.

                         Of course, as I pointed out to you,
                         you have every right to take legal
                         steps --

                         You've been very helpful, Sims.

                         But it grieves me, Milord, to have
                         been the cause of the quarrel.

               He starts to go through the door, with him.

               Lord Mortimer goes

                         It was not your fault.  She
                         quarreled with me. She insulted me.

               Sims bows and Lord Mortimer closes the door behind him, Sims
               straightens himself; breathes deeply.  Pompey watches him,
               then suddenly jumps off the stool, bows and says with great

                         May I guide you to the door, Master

               With assured pride, Master Sims follows the pageboy from the

                                                               FADE OUT

                                                                FADE IN


               The place  is  in  an uproar,    A bailiff,  assisted by
               several porters,   is  removing  the  furniture.  The 
               bailiff has  a paper  in his hand which he waves  angrily
               before Nell's  face.  Varney cowers  in  one corner.     The
               parrot on  its stand in  the  other corner of the   room is
               screaming and flapping its wings. Nell has  a dish  in her
               hand and this  dish is  in imminent  danger of being thrown
               at the bailiff.

                                   BAILIFF (WAVING THE PAPER)
                         You know  Lord Mortimer's signature 
                         --is this not  it?

                         I can recognize  a pig's   tracks
                         when  I  see  them.

                         Then you know I have the right to
                         remove the furniture which he
                         loaned you.

                         Loan does he call it? He and that
                         loathsome Sims.

                         It is all legal -- all by order.

                         Oh,  take  it and get out!

               She  lifts her hand. The bailiff ducks. She puts the dish
               down gently on a  small table. The bailiff picks it up and
               hands it to one of the porters.  He crosses the room and
               picks up the parrot, stand and all. Varney comes out of his
               corner and takes hold of the stand.

                         That's not Lord Mortimer's.

                         Leave Poll alone. She's no present  
                         to bo given and taken  back.

                         She's been with Mistress Bowen
                         since Mistress Bowen played
                         "Aurora"  in "The Rivals."
                         We did very well in that.

               The bailiff relinquishes  the parrot and looks around the
               room which has been  cleared by his men. With a courteous 
               tilt of his hat he goes out. Nell looks around her.    There 
               is nothing in  the  little room except Varney, herself and
               the parrot on the stand.    She begins to laugh.

                         Serves me right, Varney.  A kind
                         heart butters no parsnips.

                         But what shall we do,   Mistress
                         Bowen? We've nothing but  the
                         clothes we wear and poor Poll.                                             

                         Poll? Poll's enough---                                                           

               CLOSE SHOT - the parrot as she reacts by cocking her head
               quizzically to one side.

                                                           DISSOLVE OUT

                                                            DISSOLVE IN


               MED. FULL SHOT of Sims and Mistress Sims.  Mistress Sims is a
               young woman of about thirty. She is dressed in the mode, with
               perhaps a little more elegance than an honest woman would
               display. Her figure is good and when she moves there is an
               assurance and authority in her movements that one would not
               readily ascribe to a young and innocent girl. On her face are
               several decorative patches; their placement, as was the
               manner of the time, dictated by such skin blemishes or marks
               of disease as they wore intended to hide.

                         --and—remember if gin is offered
                         you, my dear, you must take wine —
                         it is more genteel.

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         But I like gin. It makes me merry.

                         You'll be merry enough on wine.

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         But you tell me that Lord Mortimer
                         likes a witty girl.

                         You'd best leave the wit to me,
                         I'll make you seem witty.

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         I can crack a joke well enough.

                         Not in good company, my dear niece.
                         You're not accustomed to it, you

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         I've known some gentlemen.

                         But this is a lord -- a man from
                         whose largess many blessings can
                         come to the family of Sims -- and
                         all for just a little laughter.
                         That's all he wants — to be amused.

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         A fine lord indeed! Mocked by a

                         But that parrot is our key to open
                         Milord's friendship to you.
                         Remember, you were offended -- you
                         offered money --

               It is at this moment a footman emerges from the interior
               chamber, and, with a bow, gestures to the open door.


               Lord Mortimer is at a small Sheraton desk, writing with a
               quill pen. He rises to greet his visitors.

                         Milord — a dreadful things --

               He catches himself in a pretense that his excitement had
               overcome his good manners.

                         Lord Mortimer, this is my niece,

                         A charming person -- she does you
                         honor, Sims. But have you heard the
                         latest news of my lady Mistress
                         Nell? What a jest she's hit upon.

                         You mean the parrot, Milord? It is
                         because of that we've come here.

                         -- A great bit of jest -- what a

               Sims and Mistress Sims exchange glances.

                         I had hardly thought to find you in
                         such humor.

                         But it's only a jest.  Nell has the
                         bird for sale in the market place
                         letting it scream that silly ditty,
                         "Lord Mortimer is like a pig, His
                         brain's small and his belly big."
                         All London's come to laugh at the

                         So they have. And It does you no
                         good, Milord, This joke will make
                         your proud name a mockery.

                         The bird won't sing too long. I've 
                         sent Pompey to buy it,

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         (in a rather flat, vulgar tone)
                         That girl holds the bird at a high
                         enough price.

               Sims darts her a  look.

                         My niece knowing of my affection
                         for you tried to buy the bird. She
                         offered twenty guineas and was

               Lord Mortimer starts to cross to a small table on which are
               sot out a carafe of wine, glasses and a stone bottle of
               Holland gin.

                         Oh, Mistress Bowen wants more
                         honey, on her bread than that,
                         Sims." Pompey has a purse with a
                         hundred guineas in it.

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                             (with a glance at Sims)
                         A hundred guineas for a bird!

                         Will you have some wine, Mistress

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         Wine is too French for me, Milord.
                         It is the way I feel about men. I
                         like men to be as big as beer and
                         as strong as gin. Beer has a head
                         on it, you know.  You can't say
                         that for wine. Gin has some muscle
                         to it and you can't say that for
                         wine either.

               Sims tries to give her a warning glance. She takes the drink
               of gin Lord Mortimer has poured for her,

                             (watching her)
                         Bless me, I've never heard anyone
                         put it that way.   

                         There is much to be said for our
                         national institutions.

               It is at this moment that there is a discreet knock at the

                         Come in.

               Pompey enters and as he comes through the doorway he holds up
               a purse apparently full of guineas. '

                         She refused?

                         She said it was not enough.

                         What sort of game is this?

                         Mistress Bowen told me to tell you
                         the bird would remain for sale and
                         that you could sell every property
                         you owned and not have money enough
                         to buy it.

                         Oh — that's the way the wind blows,

                         Malign me - The girl digs her spurs
                         too deep.

               Sims beckons and Lord Mortimer follows him to a corner of the

                         Milord, we can always make her my

                         At Bedlam — no, no. She's as sane
                         as you and I.

                         Was Colby mad? He was my guest.

                         We've been good comrades,  Nell and 
                         I.  I'll not do that.

                         As  you will, Milord.

               They start  out  of the two  shot,

               MED.   FULL SHOT -   as   the  two men cross  the room to
               where Mistress Sims is  seated. Mistress Sims pours a glass 
               of gin and hands it to Lord Mortimer,

                                   MISTRESS  SIMS
                         Here, Milord. Here's confusion to
                         your enemies.                                                         

               Milord  takes  the  glass.  She clinks her glass against his
               and they both drink. Sims watches them and smiles,

                         It's a  shrewd trick. You can't re
                         strain a  parrot  from slander --
                         you can't exercise  the  right of                             
                         privacy against a bird.  But  I                                
                         have  a way, Milord.                                                       

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         Another drink? It will make you a

               Milord  takes  the  drink and swallows it at a gulp.

                         I'm an angry man.                                                                       

                         There  are  laws against  the
                         depredations  of live  stock,
                         Milord, is  not  a parrot live  
                         stock?    Are   you not suffering
                         loss. You know that, "he who 
                         steals my purse steals trash - but
                         he  who --"

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         Why I heard that at  the 

               Sims gives her a look to silence her.

                         What do you  suggest?

                         We can swear out a writ of seizure 
                         - send a bailiff for the parrot and
                         have it here within the hour,

                         We could do that.

                         Indeed we can.

                                   MISTRESS SILK
                         Arrest a parrot? I'll drink on
                         that, Milord.

               She tosses off another glass of Hollands.


               INT.   LORD MORTIMER'S  ANTE-CHAMBER  -   DAY

               Pompey jumps off his stool and back up against  the wall to 
               get  out  of the way as a whole squad of people come 
               crowding through.  There  is a bailiff who has Varney
               clutched firmly by one elbow while with the other hand Varney
               holds onto the parrot.  After then come Nell and Hannay,

                             (hauling and tugging at
                         Come along --  come  along.

               His  efforts  to push Varney through the  door  into Milord's 
               room are  so violent that he blocks  the door instead of
               opening it and has to pull Varney around to one side to clear
               the doorway.  This momentary stoppage enables the Quaker to
               say a word to Nell,

                         I told thee no good would come of
                         it. Thee can not mock thy friends
                         this way.

                         Mock him --  he'll wish I'd only
                         mocked him when I  finish.



               She flings into the other room after the bailiff and Varney. 
               Hannay quietly follows her.


               Milord and Mistress Sims are a bit reddened by the gin they
               have  consumed,  but Sims himself is seated elegantly, 
               delicately holding up a tiny wine  glass. Milord, his wig a
               bit awry goes lurching across the room toward Varney.

                         I swore  I'd wring  its neck. Give
                         me  that bird,   Varney.

               Varney looks fearfully from Lord Mortimer to Nell.

                         Your gifts you can take back,
                         Milord, but the parrot was mine, is
                         mine and remains mine as long as I

               Lord Mortimer lurches forward and seizes the parrot roughly
               from Varney's wrist. With one hand he holds it by the body,
               the wings fluttering, with the other hand he seizes its neck. 
               The parrot squawks piteously. Nell screams. The Quaker steps
               forward and with a quick movement, takes the parrot from Lord

                         Thee must be careful of other's

                             (making a great bustle to
                              get at his sword)
                         Curse you, man! You'll fight me for

               Nell takes the parrot from the stone mason; smooths its
               disturbed plumage with her hand. Lord Mortimer finally gets
               out his sword.

                         Draw man, draw!

                         As thee can see, I an weaponless, I
                         do not fight nor brawl with other

                             (furiously advancing and
                              menacing the Quaker with
                              his sword)
                         You will fight me.

                         I cannot!

                         Fight or  I'll run you through.

               He has the point against the Quaker's  chest.

                         Will you not fight?

               The Quaker shakes his head,

                         Milord --

               The muscles of Lord Mortimer's fat arm tense as he prepares
               to  thrust. Hannay sees  the  desire  to strike in the 
               other's eyes.   With a quick movement  of his arm,  he 
               brushes aside the sword and seizes Lord Mortimer by both

                             (very quietly)
                         Friend, thou hast no quarrel with

               He gives Lord Mortimer a shove.  Lord Mortimer goes stumbling
               backwards, catches his heel on the edge of the carpet and
               falls backward into the depths of the feather mattress_ on
               his bed,

               CLOSE SHOT - Lord Mortimer struggling to get up from the soft
               cushions. Nell with the parrot on her wrist bends over him,

                         Lord Mortimer -- Lord Mortimer --

               Hannay bends into the scene, takes a firm hold on Nell's arm
               and draws her back, saying.

                             (with a slight smile)
                         Thee must not mock thy friend.

               FULL SHOT - The group,  Hannay takes Nell's arm and quickly
               gets her out of the room while the bailiff and Sims rush to
               aid Lord Mortimer.

               CLOSE SHOT _ Sims and the bailiff help Lord Mortimer to get
               up.  On his angry face

                                                       FADE OUT

                                                            FADE IN    

               EXT. STONE YARD - AFTERNOON

               It is a bright sunny day and the clink of the hammers on the
               chisels makes a merry and industrious sound. Two or three
               journeymen are busy squaring blocks of granite.  In the f.g.
               Nell is seated on a block of cut stone with her skirts lifted
               a few inches to protect them from the dust. Behind her stands
               Varney with the parrot on his wrist, Hannay stands before her
               in his work apron, his sleeves rolled and a sledge in his

                         Thee can earn an honest living for

                         I had to sew my costumes when I was
                         on the stage.

                         Two shillings a week and all found
                         for a seamstress.

                         One can live well on that if one is

                         What would I do with Varney? Who'd
                         have him?

               Hannay feels Varney's arm muscles and shakes his head,

                         Thou hast not strength enough for a
                         mason, Varney.

                         You see?

                         Just the same I'll give Varney
                         work. He can sweep up the dust
                         here. He has strength enough for

                         He sweeps, and I sew -- all very
                         fine, but not very exciting.
                             (to Varney)
                         What do you think of it, Varney?

                         I like a merry life,  Mistress

                             (rising suddenly)
                         And so by blazes -- so do I!
                         Everyone makes his living with his
                         own tricks. My tricks are not
                         yours, Master Stonemason.

                         If I may say a word. Mistress Bowen
                         -- you still have many friends•

                         That I have! There's Captain
                         Standing — but he's always talking
                         about Fontenoy —- and Mr. Armiston
                         and Wilkes -— there's Wilkes -— 
                         "That devil Wilkes." He's a clever
                         man and Sims fears him.         



               This is a small shop opening directly onto the street. The
               walls are lined with bookcases and a library ladder serves
               the highest shelves. On this ladder a gentleman with a cocked
               hat pushed back on his wig sits reading. There are bins of
               books on the sidewalk in front of the shop and counters
               within. At the rear of the shop is a manually operated
               printing press. The shop is fairly well filled with
               customers; serious gentlemen who are looking at books,
               discussing prints and indulging in political arguments. Sims
               is standing near the printing press with a companion, a stout
               gentleman who looks not unlike Dr. Samuel Johnson. The CAMERA
               is set up to SHOOT THROUGH the press. The press lowers,
               stamps and starts to move up. The printer, wearing the
               typical box hat of his trade, reaches into the press for the
               finished sheet and hands it to Sims.

               INSERT     THE FINISHED SHEET.  It is a cartoon by Hogarth
               depicting John Wilkes with horns, a tail and a devil's

               BACK TO SCENE - Sims and the other man chuckle and look over
               to another corner of the shop.

               The CAMERA FANS WITH their gaze to pick up Wilkes and Nell
               standing near a small counter. Wilkes has a book in his hand.
               He is talking across it to Nell.

                         So far as I'm concerned, dear
                         Mistress Bowen, you need not teach
                         your parrot any special phrases for
                         my benefit.

               Nell looks at him for a moment, trying to figure out this
               cryptic statement.

                         Am I to understand from that,
                         Master Wilkes that you're not
                         interested — not in Bedlam nor in

               She makes a movement as if to go.  He restrains her by
               putting his hand lightly on her arm.

                         I did not mean that. I meant only
                         that I am a different sort of a man
                         from Lord Mortimer. I am not easily

               Again Nell and Wilkes exchange a long silent glance.

                         I think you expect too much, Master

                         I offer more.  You want to fight
                         the nastiness and the corruption of
                         Bedlam and I offer you political
                         alliance with John Wilkes. Bring me
                         evidence and I'll be pleased to
                         take it to court.

                         Let us say that puts a brighter
                         face on the matter Master Wilkes .

                         One gives a girl a kiss to seal a
                         certain kind of bargain, Nell.

                         This is a rather public place,
                         Master Wilkes.

                             (disregarding her)
                         But one shakes hands with a comrade
                         and a friend.

               He puts out his hand. Smiling delightedly, Nell gives him her


                             (smiling  at cartoon)
                         This is a real blow at Wilkes,

                             (looking off at Nell and
                         It is a blow I'll leave you to
                         administer.  I've a blow of his to
                         ward away.

               He puts his hat on his head and starts for the door.

                                                       FADE OUT

                                                       FADE IN


               A little table has been drawn up to the fireplace and around
               this table sit Lord Mortimer, Master Sims and Nell Bowen.

                         -- and so you see, Mistress Bowen,
                         Milord thought it would --be best
                         to make friends again.

                         On your advice, I suppose, and for
                         some purpose of your own?

                         (with a resigned gesture)
                         Milord, speak to the girl.

                         Every word he says is true and
                         better put than I could say it,

                         Well, so we're friends again. You
                         go your way and I go my way.

                         But friends aren't that off-handed
                         with each other, Mistress Bowen,
                         Milord would like to be kind to

                         I'm duly warned.  Go on.

               Sims holds up a large bank note. After a proper pause to let
               Nell take in the full significance and amount of the bill, he

                         Milord thinks you've been looking
                         rather pale as of late — perhaps
                         the waters of Bath — a rest —

               He hands over the bank note.    Nell takes it and looks from
               him to Lord Mortimer.  She then reaches out to the tea table
               and picks up two pieces of bread as she speaks.

                         (to Lord Mortimer)
                         Milord, you know that I have a
                         contempt for certain kinds of
                         money. How deep that contempt is I
                         am about to show you.

               She takes a big bite of the bank-note sandwich, chews and
               swallows it then throws the rest of it into the fireplace.

                             (bowing to her across the
                         The Bank of England thanks you for
                         three hundred pounds.

               Nell rises and cuffs his face for his impertinence. This
               makes Lord Mortimer laugh.    With contempt she stalks past
               him to the door.

                             (taking papers from his
                              pocket and putting them
                              on the table)
                         Tomorrow after the Commission for
                         Lunacy examines her she will strike
                         no more blows — not at you nor at

               He drips a pen.

                         Here — you sign here.

               Lord Mortimer takes the pen reluctantly and holds it poised
               over the paper.

                         But confound me, Sims, I can't sign
                         this. She's not mad. She's not a
                         danger to herself and others, as it
                         says here.   

                         Sign, Milord. She's a danger to my
                         position and to your properties.
                         Alone she means nothing. With
                         Wilkes behind her she's more
                         dangerous to us than any mad woman.

                         But  I don't  like  to do this.


               Milord begins to write.



               This is a medium-sized room.  A peg-board runs around the
               walls and on each peg hangs a cooked hat, point down.  (See
               Hogarth's "Hudibras" -- Plate IX - The Committee)  These hats
               are the only decoration. At one end of the room is a small
               barred window.  In the center of the room, three tables are
               arranged in a U-shape and covered to the floor with dark
               cloth. Around this U-shaped table sit ton commissioners of
               lunacy in sombre clothing. Most of them wear either scratch
               wigs, periwigs or their own hair, powdered. The three chief
               commissioners at the center of the table wear judge's wigs,
               the hair curling down to their shoulders, Nell stands before
               the opening of the U made by the three tables,

                             (rattling on)
                         I'm twenty-three years of age -
                         born at Rye -- my parents are dead
                         and I have no husband nor child --
                         what more would you wish to know?

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         The Commission of Lunacy will frame
                         the questions for you, Mistress

                         Ask away.

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         Do you know your alphabet?

               Nell looks at him with scorn.

                         I know A from Zed and I can read
                         and write as readily as any man I
                         see before me --
                             (she takes a look)
                         Perhaps a little better,

               There is no answering smile on the dour faces of the

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         Do you know the difference between
                         right and wrong?

                         What is right for you - that much I
                         know -- and vice versa.

               The Chief Commissioner nods to the man at his left,
               knowingly. The man nods back,

                             (watching them)
                         Oh, don't fool yourself, A merry
                         answer does not make me a fool,
                         gentlemen.  Ask me a sensible
                         question and you shall have a
                         sensible—answer —-

               Again the two men look at each other, but the nod is a little
               different this time,  Nell has scored a point here.  Behind
               the Judges a door opens and James Sims comes through. With a
               nod to the commissioners, he pulls up a chair so as to take
               his place at the elbow of the Chief Commissioner,  The Chief
               Commissioner nods to him. He leans to whisper in the Chief
               Commissioner's ear.  The Chief Commissioner looks up at Nell.

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         Mistress Bowen, is it true that
                         some days past you refused                                            
                         the sum of one hundred gold guineas
                         for a parrot not worth                                              
                         five shillings?

                         I had my reasons.  It was a jest.

               At the foot of the table, a commissioner looks up at her,

                                   SECOND COMMISSIONER
                         You know your sums?

                         If two and two make four -- I     

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         Knowing that one number added to
                         another makes a greater number, I
                         presume you know a large sum of
                         money from a small sum.

                         I only know I like large sums
                         better than I like small sums.

                                   SECOND COMMISSIONER
                         Then why did you refuse one hundred
                         guineas for a parrot worth five

                         I told you it was a jest.

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         Knowing the value of money,
                         Mistress Bowen, can you explain why
                         it was  that you ate a bank note?

                         For a jest. The Chief Commissioner

                         Master Sims knows why I ate the
                         money — to show my contempt for it.

                                   SECOND COMMISSIONER
                         Is that how one shows contempt?

                         No.    But at that moment it was
                         the only way to show contempt, I
                         was angry and that's what occurred
                         to me.

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         Do thoughts, like that always occur
                         to you when you are angry?

                         But surely everyone does foolish
                         things some times — at a whim — for
                         a prank —   

               The Chief Commissioner nods his head.  Sims grins.

                                   SECOND COMMISSIONER
                         Is it wise to eat money?

                         But it was a jest.

               A paunchy commissioner laughs,  Sims smiles. The Chief
               Commissioner raps with his palm on the table top for order.

               CLOSE SHOT - Nell as she looks about, panic growing in her

                         Sir — gentlemen — would you permit
                         me to  communicate  with Mr. John
                         Wilkes — he would speak for me.

               FULL SHOT -  The commissioners.   The  Chief Commissioner
               looks  at Sims.  Sims   shakes his  head,

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                             (turning back to Nell)
                         This is not a  court -- you are not 
                         in need of any witnesses but your
                         own sanity and we shall judge the
                         worth of that.

               He turns to Sims  and begins to whisper.  The Commissioner on
               his right hand and on Sims' left hand bend in to confer.

               CLOSE SHOT - Nell as she watches them.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - the end of the table whore Sims sits with
               the Commissioner. Nell is in the f.g.  The Chief Commissioner
               glances through some papers on the table, picks up a quill
               pen and signs his name, then passes the paper to Sims.

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         Mistress Bowen you have asked for
                         voluntary commitment to enter St.
                         Mary's of Bethlehem Asylum, The
                         charges for your care and keep are
                         to be borne by Milord Mortimer and
                         I have here — 
                             (he holds up the paper)
                         the commission's approval of your
                         request.  The commission has
                         adjudged you insane.

               As he finishes speaking, the commissioners start to rise, get
               their hats from the peg-board and start for the door,

                         But I made no petition to enter

               CLOSE SHOT -  Sims  as he looks at her and grins.

                         Perhaps you did it in jest,
                         Mistress Bowen,

               He joins the others as they leave the room. Nell rushes
               forward into the U formed by the three tables,

                         You're not going to  put me  in
                         Bedlam -- not for a little joke —
                         not for playing a trick —

               They pay no attention to her and continue leaving the room.   
               Nell holds out her hands to them and tries to plead with

                         Milords — gentlemen — please listen
                         — I'm of sound mind --I know what I
                         do -- I know what I say,  I did not
                         ask for admission to Bedlam --
                         please — please —

               Without looking back at her, they leave the room. Sims is the
               last to leave.  He is the only one who looks back. As he goes
               through the door, he shuts it behind him. Nell crumples to
               the floor in the middle of the U and lies there sobbing.

               (Optical effect - A Fade Out in which the walls seem to be
               drawing in around the prostrate girl.)

                                                       FADE  OUT

                                                       FADE  IN


               BIG HEAD CLOSE UP - Nell,     She is  listening and around
               her can be heard strange, low human SOUNDS.  Her eyes are
               wide with apprehension and alarm.  She rolls them first one
               way and then another following the source  of these soft

               The  CAMERA  PULLS  BACK to display a  little  of  the  
               space around her.     On the walls,  crouching,  rounded
               shadows can be  seen moving;   almost as  if animals were 
               crawling, indistinct and horrible through terrible  darkness,

               ANOTHER ANGLE - MED.   CLOSE SHOT - Nell's face.     On the
               wall behind her one of the soft, indistinct  shadows begins 
               to grow harder in outline, distinct and erect in appearance
               the  shadow of a human.     The  shadow leans toward her.    
               She gazes at  it with panic-fixed intensity. Her lower  jaw
               falls  slack in  terror as  the  shadow, growing larger, 
               comes  closer.    She takes her eyes from the  shadow and
               searches in the surrounding darkness  for its source.    
               Suddenly, her whole body moves away from what she  sees  in
               an  instinctive  gesture.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - REVERSE ANGLE - to show Nell in the f.g.
               coming toward her is a man.  His figure is in outline.

               CLOSE SHOT - Nell as her mouth begins to form a scream.  The
               scream is topped by the hard, sudden metallic sound of chains
               being flung down.  She looks wildly in the other direction.

               LONG SHOT - Toward the door from Nell's angle.  Coming toward
               her are three men with pieced lanterns.  The three moving
               blobs of light are fantastic and eerie in the room.  They
               come steadily toward her, revealing themselves as Master
               Sims, attended by two guards.  One of the guards pushes him

               CLOSE TWO SHOT - Sims and Nell.    Sims comes up to Nell,
               holds his light over her face and grins down at her.  He
               fumbles in his pocket, pulls forth a coin and holds it up.

                         Here in Bedlam, my dear, we cannot
                         feed you bank notes.

               He forces the penny he holds between her teeth.

                         Try chewing on this.



               CLOSE SHOT - Poll the parrot. A man's hand comes into the
               frame and presents a cracker to Poll.

                                   MILORD'S  VOICE
                         Polly wants a cracker.

                         Polly wants a cracker.

               The CAMERA PULLS BACK TO disclose Lord Mortimer in very tight
               white riding breeches and boots.  Varney is holding the
               parrot before him. On the floor around them are open trunks
               and portmanteaux.

                             (looking up brightly)
                         You see, Varney, now that he is
                         mine, I've already taught him a new
                         and original trick,

                         Yes, Milord.

               There is the SOUND of a door opening and both look off.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - MED. LONG SHOT - to show Mistress Sims In mob
               cap and mantalet as she comes in from the ante-chamber.

                         Ah, my love -- and how did you
                         spend the night?

               Mistress Sims ignores him and looks at the trunks.

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         Are you going on a voyage, Milord?

                         Oh, no, not a voyage.  Just a trip
                         to the country to ride -- to smell
                         the innocent air -- to listen to
                         the twitter of the birds -- to
                         rusticate -—

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                             (pointing to the tight
                         I see — to rusticate,

                         I would invite you, my dear, but
                         it's a bachelor occasion -- sport,
                         you know -- manly things.

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                             (still eyeing the tight
                         I see.

               She shrugs.

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         Well, all good things must end,
                         Milord, I'll have a bit of the gin.

               She crosses over to the buffet and pours herself a                        
               glass.  She drinks.                                                                                          

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         And another little sip to take away
                         the dry taste of piety.

               She downs the rest of the gin.

                         Piety? I thought there was precious
                         little of that in this house.

                                   MISTRESS SIMS
                         There's a Quaker outside who wants
                         to see you. Pompey is sending him
                         about his business.

               Varney looks up from attending the parrot.


               From his high stool Pompey is holding forth to Hannay.

                         —- such a person has never been
                         known in this household.

                         Come now -- thou must know that to
                         be an untruth. Nell Bowen had tea
                         with Milord only yesterday.

                             (shaking his head)
                         Your young lady was the one who
                         was telling tales. There's been no
                         woman in this house but Mistress
                         Sims since I can remember — so they
                         tell me.

               Hannay looks at him. He knows it's useless to ask further,

                         Well, never mind.

               He turns and leaves the room. Pompey watches him off, then
               digs into the pocket of his jacket and takes out a piece of
               toffee. He begins to munch it. The door from the bed chamber
               opens. Instantly, Pompey thrusts the toffee back into his
               pocket, then reaches for it again as he sees that it is only

                         Where is the Quaker?

                         He's been and gone.

                         He must have just left.

                         That's likely. 

               Varney gives him a dirty look and hustles off in pursuit of
               the Quaker.


               EXT. THE STONE MASON'S YARD - DAY

               Hannay in his street clothes comes slowly down the street and
               passes under the block and tackle. From behind him comes a
               shout. He turns.

                                   VARNEY'S VOICE
                         Master Hannay -- Master Hannay —-

               Hannay who has turned at the sound of his name, waits and
               Varney comes running In to him.

                             (excited and out of
                         I'll tell you where she is, Master
                         Hannay.  I'll tell you where she is
                         -- they put her in Bedlam.                            

                         In Bedlam?

                         Aye  --  yesterday -- they summoned
                         her.     She's  there, now.

                         Well -- friend -- thee must come
                         with me. We shall go to Bedlam.

                         No, no.  I can't go with you. I'm
                         employed by Milord,

               Hannay looks et him. Varney quickly explains,

                         You see, Master Stonemason, I have
                         to live.

               He lifts his arm.

                         And you, yourself, said I haven't
                         muscle enough for honest work.

                         It is enough that thee is an honest
                         man, Varney -- that thee ran all
                         this way to tell me where she  is.



               MED. FULL SHOT - the pillar near which Oliver Todd is busily
               writing at a small table.  The author is engrossed in his
               work, his quill pen flying, the point creaking and scratching
               on the paper.  Near him slouches Sidney Long, a tall, slim
               man, who continually thumbs the edges of a book.  A shaft of
               light strikes past them and in the murky depths of the room
               on either side the dim figures of other mad men and women can
               be seen.  Nell stands near them, looking fearfully about her. 
               Suddenly from far off a voice can be heard calling.

                         Nell Bowen — Nell Bowen --                                                    

               CLOSE SHOT - Nell as she looks.  Other voices take up the
               chant of her name.

                         Nell Bowen -- Nell Bowen -- Nell
                         Bowen --

               She looks about puzzled.

               MED. FULL SHOT - the group near the pillar.  The voices are
               still calling and Nell's anxiety and curiosity verges on
               terror.  She looks around to find the source of this weird
               chanting.  Sidney Long looks up from his book and sees her

                         Is that your name they

               Nell nods.

                         How do they know I am here? 

                         They don't know.   Some of our poor
                         companions spend their days looking
                         out the window.  If they hear a new
                         cry they repeat it, then others
                         take it up and so it goes.

                         But my name -- how do they know?

                         Someone  shouted in the  street --
                         someone trying to reach you.

                         Oh -- thank you -- thank you.

               Long points with his finger and she runs off in that

               LONG SHOT - Nell running through the alternate light and
               darkness of the main room.

               MED. FULL SHOT - Nell as she comes up to the window. Her name
               is still being called. 
               Three lunatics, two men and a woman, are hanging out the
               window. She forces her way between them and bends out over
               the sill.

               CLOSE SHOT - Nell,  She looks up and down the street. The
               three patients watch her with meaningless, uncomprehending
               eyes.  Finally she turns away in disappointment.


               William Hannay is just mounting the steps.


               At the arms rack stand two warders.  One of them is taking
               the admission fee from a young apprentice all done up in
               holiday finery, with his lass on his arm. The other warder
               hangs up the boy's cudgel on the arms rack. The little
               business of entry fee and weapon checking having been gone
               through the young couple are admitted into the main room just
               as Hannay comes up to the arms rack. Without a word he holds
               out a two-penny piece.  They look at him, then at each other.
               The older of the two warders shakes his head.  The younger

                                   YOUNG WARDER
                             (in a surly voice)
                         You can't come in.

                         By George Sims' order I suppose.

                                   YOUNG WARDER
                         Even so.

               During this conversation the older of the two warders has
               slipped away in the direction of Sims' office.

                         And may I see Sims?

                                   YOUNG WARDER
                             (with a jerk of his head)
                         And quickly too.

               Hannay looks around in the direction of the warder's nod»

               REVERSE ANGLE - Sims, with the older warder, is coming toward

               TWO SHOT - as Sims and Hannay meet.

                         I've been refused admittance.

                         That is unfortunate -- but a  new
                         ruling -- you understand --                                            

                         I understand only that I am a free
                         man -- that I have money in my
                         hand.  You have no legal right to
                         deny me entry to a place where
                         others have been admitted.

                         Quite true -- quite true.


                         The warder will take your tupence.

               The older of the two warders takes Hannay's money,

                         And now if you will leave your arms
                         at the arms rack --                                                           

                         I have no arms.  I am of the
                         Society of Friends.                                                                       

                         Then I'm afraid we must return your

                         But why?

                         Did you not quote the law to me?
                         Let me then quote law to you -- It
                         is a rule of our institute that any
                         who go into the main hall must hang
                         their arms upon that rack.

                         But I have no arms.

                         Since you have none, I cannot let
                         you enter.

                                   HANNAY (FURIOUSLY)
                         Thou cannot deny me entrance for
                         such cause.

               He takes a step toward the door and tries to push it open. It
               is looked. The two warders and Sims grin.

                         I must.

               For a moment the Quaker stands silent but furious as if ready
               to try physical conclusions with the two warders, then he
               collects himself, shrugs and walks off.

                                   SIMS (CALLING AFTER HIM)
                         It is a rule, and I break no rules,
                         Master Quaker.

               Hannay walks off without turning around.


               This is a portion of the street which has not been seen
               before. The street at the side of the hospital. In the street
               is a horse-drawn stone sledge and several hand wains. On the
               sledge are three great pieces of cut granite and in the wains
               are tubs of mortar, trowels, chisels and other impedimenta of
               the mason's craft.

               Three young masons are at work sliding one of the cut stones
               onto a litter. They catch sight of someone off scene.  One
               mason nudges another. They stand up. Hannay comes strolling
               into the scene.

                                   FIRST STONE MASON
                         Brother Hannay — I'll be blasted --
                         sauntering as  if it were a

                         On my own business, friend Smith,
                         and without profanity.

                                   SECOND STONE MASON
                         And without this good job of work
                         that we have, Hannay.

                                   HANNAY (PLEASANTLY ENOUGH)
                         I bid for it.

                                   SECOND STONE MASON
                          And found Master Sims' way of
                         doing business a little strange,

                                   FIRST STONE MASON
                             (turning to his work)
                         We've the work -- we've the will —
                         let's at it boys!

               They bend to the stone again-and start heaving to get it into

                         But you haven't the knack of it.

               He bends down and gives a heave and the  stone  slides easily 
               down the rollers and onto the litter,

                                   FIRST MASON
                             (wiping the sweat off his
                         Thanks, Hannay.

                                   SECOND MASON
                         Maybe you'd give us a hand.

                                   THIRD MASON
                         There are but three of us.

                         I'd just as leave.

               The four men take their places  about the litter.

                                   FIRST MASON
                             (to Hannay)
                         You call.

                         One — two — heave, all.

               With a great surge they force the litter up onto their

                         Lead away.

               The two men at the front of the litter start up a short ramp
               into the building.

               INT. ST. MARY'S OF BETHLEHEM - DAY

               A long narrow corridor. The four masons carrying their cut
               stone come along the corridor to a place where it leads into
               a slightly wider but darker hall. Here a candle is hung in
               the wall and there is evidence of mason's work.  The first
               two masons come up to this place and halt.

                                   FIRST MASON

                         One, and two and down we go!

               Simultaneously they lower the litter. All four stand around
               the stone, wiping their brows, hitching up their aprons;
               laxing off the tension of hard muscular labor.                                                                  

                                   FIRST MASON
                         Thanks, Hannay.

                         Thee is welcome.

                                   SECOND MASON
                         Now you're here, Hannay, you can
                         see all of Bedlam without paying
                         your tupence. Can't he, lads?

               They all nod. The first mason winks.  Hannay pretends not to
               have noticed the wink and the jocular air of the two others.

                                   FIRST STONE MASON
                         Oh, aye -- indeed you can. All the
                         wonders of Bedlam for nothing.

                         That I would like to see.

                                   THIRD STONE MASON (POINTING)
                         This corridor leads to the main

                                   SECOND STONE MASON
                         It's a little dark maybe, but If
                         you get to the end of it, Hannay,
                         you'll see an eyeful.

                         Down this way?

               They nod.

                         If thee don't mind I'll go and

               He starts down the long corridor and Is lost to view. The
               three masons stand looking after him, grinning.

                                   FIRST MASON
                         He'll be back soon enough.

                                   SECOND MASON
                             (laughing and slapping his
                              leather apron)
                         Never fear.

                                   THIRD MASON
                         Like a shot from a gun.


               Very little light comes into this dark corridor; only light
               enough to show that at intervals there are strong, iron
               barred doors like the entrance to cages of wild beasts. The
               corridor is narrow and Hannay gropes his way through the
               darkness toward a dim light at the very end.

               CLOSE SHOT - Hannay as he gropes his way.  His hand passes
               from the solid wall onto the bars of one of the doors. Prom
               the darkness of that room a white, ghastly hand Is suddenly
               thrust and seizes his wrist. He struggles to pull away from
               the clinging grip of these thin fingers.  Finally, he pulls
               away, but this exertion has brought him back against the door
               on the other side of the corridor. His gaze is still fastened
               on the door from which the hand was thrust, when a sudden
               burst of maniacal laughter explodes against his ear. He

               REVERSE SHOT - An old woman with wild eyes and streaming
               white hair thrusts her face between the bars at his shoulder.

               MED. FULL SHOT - Hannay as he proceeds.

               TRUCKING SHOT - As Hannay quickens his stride and looks from
               one barred door to the next, eluding hands -which reach out
               for him, fists that are shaken and all around him the
               screaming and laughter of the incurably insane.

               MED. FULL SHOT - As Hannay comes up to the door at the end of
               the corridor. This door, which leads into the main room of
               Bedlam, has a cross-barred window set into it.

               LONG SHOT - Through the window from Hannay's ANGLE.

               TRUCKING SHOT - As Hannay quickens his stride and looks from
               one barred door to the next, eluding hands which reach out
               for him, fists that are shaken and all around him the
               screaming and laughter of the incurably insane.

               MED. FULL SHOT - As Hannay comes up to the door at the end of
               the corridor.  This door, which leads into the main room of
               Bedlam, has a cross-barred window set into it.

               LONG SHOT - Through the window from Hannay's ANGLE.  He sees
               the sun-striped interior of the main room.  At the far end
               near the pillar where Long and Todd habitually sit, he can
               see Nell.

               CLOSE SHOT - Hannay.

                         (calling softly)
                         Nell — Nell Bowen —

               FULL SHOT - Nell at the pillar.  She hears her name, turns
               and than relaxes as again the chorus of the insane take up
               the chant of her name. 

                         Nell Bowen — Nell Bowen --

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Hannay through the window. He, too, hears
               the chanting of the name; is puzzled and confused.

                         Nell Bowen -- Nell Bowen --

               Finally the shouting subsides.

               LONG SHOT - Nell Bowen as seen from Hannay's ANGLE.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Hannay again cups his hands and calls

                         Nell Bowen —

               Again the queer and confused chanting of the name springs up.

               MED. FULL SHOT - Nell. She listens, half confused, half
               disgusted, only hoping for the irritating SOUND to stop. It
               diminishes and dies away. She relaxes.

               CLOSE SHOT - Hannay at the window. He tries again.

                         Nell Bowen —

               Again the chant breaks out.

               FULL SHOT - Nell. For the third time she hears the SOUND of
               her name being called by myriad voices. She starts slowly for
               the window.

               FULL SHOT - The back of Hannay's head at the window and Nell
               passing toward the other window.

                         Nell Bowen -- Nell Bowen —

               Hannay shouts her name, but it is a shout lost among the
               others. She is about to pass out of sight when she looks
               over. He reaches his arms through the bars and waves. She
               catches the gesture and starts toward him. Some ten feet from
               the window she stops and looks to the right. From his
               position and the position where the CAMERA is set up, what
               she sees cannot be seen.

                         (encouraging her)
                         Come Nell -- Nell —

               She makes a sudden resolution and with one or two fearsome
               glances to the right, comes quickly up to the window and
               grabs hold of Hannay's arm.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - SHOOTING FROM the corridor TOWARD the main
               room. Nell has come up to the barred door. The shadow of bars
               falls across her face and on the floor. Across those shadows
               another shadow moves, grim, grotesque and huge. As she and
               Hannay talk the shadow keeps passing and repassing, partially
               on the floor and partially on her face. She continues to
               cling to his arm, holding onto this link to the sane world
               with frantic intensity. Hannay comforts her.

                         You've come to take me away.

                         (shaking his head)
                         No.  There is no way.

                         Find Wilkes. He'll get me out

                         I had thought of that. I'll seek
                         him out, but until he can free
                         thee, thee must be patient.

                         Patient? How can I be patient? I'm
                         terrified -- these people are like

               She glances off to the unseen figure on her right.

                         So thou has that same thought --the
                         same thought as Sims.

                         No. But they frighten mo. They're
                         dirty -- savage -- mindless —
                         disgusting --

                         Thee wanted to help them — they put
                         thee here -- for trying to aid

                         I still want to aid them, but I can
                         not here -- not here where they are
                         all about me. All I want is release
                         or a weapon to defend myself.

                         Thee has thy kindness and thy
                         courage -- they can be sword and
                         buckler to thee in this place.

                         I want better weapons -- I want
                         something more than my naked hands
                         to help me if there should be
                         trouble. Give me a weapon.

                         Thee knows that I carry no sword.


                Hannay shakes his head.

                         I carry nothing that could harm my
                         fellow creatures.

                         Your trowel.

               He looks down to where his trowel is stuck through his broad
               leather belt.

                         That is to build with.

                         It has a point -- it has a handle.

               Hannay shakes his head, again. Nell looks at him.

                         Would you have me maimed --
                         scratched —- scarred?

               She looks at him. 

                         My face?

                         The Lord will not let it happen,

                         Give me the trowel and I will not
                         let it happen.

               He shakes his head again.

                                   NELL (MORE SOFTLY)
                         Look at my face again — look close 
                         - shall it be scarred?

               The Quaker stands looking at her for a moment, then he pulls
               the trowel from his belt and hands it to her.

                         God forgive me for what I do.

                             (seizing the handle of the
                         Forgiven or not, at least I can
                         defend myself.
                         Now get to Master Wilkes. Wilkes
                         will have me out of here like that.

               She snaps her fingers. Hannay looks at her, then starts away
               past the camera.

                                                       DISSOLVE OUT


                                                       DISSOLVE IN


               Lard, himself, a square, well-fed man,  is operating the
               printing press. Between the rhythmic banging of the press, he 
               talks with Hannay.

                         I haven't seen Wilkes for the last

                         He's never at home.

                         He's electioneering.

                         But where?

                         Anywhere in the Kingdom.

                         It is a matter of import — grave
                         import -- a woman's reason hangs on
                         It.  I must see him.

                         He has ordered pamphlets and
                         posters from me. He has to come
                         here. When he does, I'll tell him.

                             (starting to turn away)
                         I'll be back tomorrow.

                                                       FADE OUT

                                                       FADE IN


               The great hall is feebly lit with a few rush lights hung on
               the walls. But near the pillar is a pool of light from a wax
               candle set up on Todd's desk. By its light, he is still
               writing while Long stands beside him still engrossed in the
               edged leaves of his book. He is flipping them past his thumb.
               Well is seated on a stool near then, but with her back toward
               then. At the next pillar Dorothea the Dove stands mutely
               beautiful. The other inmates are dim moving bulks in the half
               light. Suddenly from afar comes the booming of Big Ben
               striking eight o'clock. Long lays down his book, takes a
               greasy pack of cards from his side pocket and shows them to
               Todd. Todd lays down his pen and clears the desk before him*

                             (looking off at Nell)
                         We night ask her, Master Todd — she
                         seems quite lady-like — quite sane,
                         or as I might express myself before
                         the bar, compos mentis en lex.

               Todd nods.

                         Then I shall ask her. We can have
                         Dan. The four of us can play

               Todd nods. Long goes off.

               TWO SHOT as Long comes up to Nell.  He makes a graceful leg,   
               Nell looks up at him.

                         ...Madame, would you care to join
                         us? We are going to play Paroli,

                         That's kind of you. But I have no

                         Money? We play on our word.

                                   NELL (RISING)
                         I have a wealth of words;     I
                         don't cheat but I warn you I'm not
                         above amending  the mistakes of

               FULL SHOT - Todd, Dan the Dog at the desk as Nell and Long
               come up, Todd rises quite reasonably, Dan the Dog crouches
               over the chair with a vacuous grin. Long introduces them.

                         This Mistress Brown, is Oliver
                         Todd, He will not speak to you, nor
                         to me, but there is no harm in him
                         and he writes and reasons well. And
                         this Is Dan, sometimes he fancies
                         himself a dog -- sometimes the
                         rider of a spirited horse, but he
                         has no malice in him and he
                         remembers how to play cards. I am
                         Long -- Sidney Long, the Crown
                         Solicitor — whose enemies will not
                         let him practice at the bar! I, the
                         most skilled of them all, I have
                         many enemies — many, many enemies.

                         I understand.

                         I should not have told you that.
                         But believe me, we who are near
                         this pillar are the safe ones --
                         the good ones — the wisest --that
                         is why they let us have the candle 
                         - but the rest — you must be
                         careful of the rest.

                             (feeling her
                             skirt where
                             the trowel
                             is hidden)
                         I am careful.

                         Let us begin the play.

               Nell seats herself and the rest also take their places around
               the desk.  Long shuffles the cards,

                         I will hold the bank -- twenty
                         thousand pounds —

               He indicates an empty space on the desk, Nell looks at him
               and then at the empty space and points to the empty space
               before her.

                         Five pounds for a card,

                         Five pounds.

               He passes her a card, Todd holds up the five outstretched
               fingers of one hand. Long passes him a card, Dan looks from
               one empty space on the desk to the other and nods sagely,

                         Five whippets, ten bassets, one
                         gaze hound.

               Long looks at him and passes three cards,  Nell looks at her
               partners in this mad card game with a little smile on her

                         Does anyone wish another card?

                         Five pounds.

               He passes her another card. Long looks to the others. They
               shake their heads.


               Everyone turns up his cards and looks.                                                    


                         Fortune smiles at your first play.
                         What card?

                         (holding it up)
                         Knave of Spades.

                         You win.

               They all pass back their cards. As Long shuffles then the
               sound of heavy chains moving and a man groaning can be heard
               in the darkness. Nell looks off. The others pay no attention.
               Long deals. Todd holds up three fingers.

                         Eight bulldogs.

               Again the painful groan is heard from the darkness.

                         What's that?

                         A poor wretch — Sims gave him a
                         dose of iron this morning. The
                         chains scruff his flesh.

                         Will the warders not help him?

                         They've heard too many groans to

                         But what about you? Don't you ever
                         help the others?

                         Why should we help? We are the
                         people of the pillar.

               The groaning sounds out again.

                         A card?


               She listens to the sound of the groan.

                         I can't play with that going on.  
                         May I have the candle?

                         Be careful of the straw.

               Nell picks up the candle and starts toward the direction of
               the groaning sound.

               LONG SHOT - Nell, as she, threads her way between the
               sleeping figures of the loonies.

               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Nell stops to listen, trying to orient
               herself by the sound of the groaning. She starts off.

               MED. CLOSE DOLLY SHOT -Nell following the sound of the
               groaning. Suddenly, it stops. She stops with it. Then it
               begins again. Again she goes forwards

               CLOSE SHOT - Nell. She pauses. The groaning is very near. She
               looks around her at the huddled figures, lifting the candle
               high, trying to distinguish among them the injured man. She
               holds the candle in her left hand and looks to the left. From
               the right comes the clang and jangle of heavy chains. She
               whirls, her right hand-seeking the trowel.

               CLOSE SHOT - from Nell's ANGLE. Right before her stands a
               half-naked lunatic encumbered with his "dose of iron." This
               is a curious and frightening contraption of steel plate and
               chain, a terrifying travesty of chivalrous armor. For a
               moment, they stand en tableau, Nell with the candle upraised
               on her left hand, the trowel held dagger-wise in her right;
               then the man groans.

                         Do your, chains hurt you?

               The man nods. Nell places the candle warily on the ground,
               clearing a space in the straw with her foot before him. Then
               she turns to the man again.

                         Where does it hurt?

               The man gestures with his head toward his restricted elbow. 
               With her free hand Nell touches it.


               The man nods.

                         Would it help if I put a bit of
                         cloth there to ease the chain?

               Again he nods. She tears a little strip from her fichu and
               with her left hand, starts to stuff it under the chain at the
               man's elbow. It is awkward, one-handed. She draws back, looks
               at him, then puts the trowel down on the ground next to the
               candle. With her two hands, she easily tucks the cloth under
               the chain, then tears another strip and oases the burden on
               his other elbow.


               He turns his head painfully. Nell tears a third strip and
               tucks it in at the collar of the contraption. He smiles. She
               smiles back at him, bends to pick up the candle and starts
               back toward the pillar.

               MED* CLOSE SHOT - the pillar. In silhouette can be seen the
               three figures of Dan the Dog, Todd and Long. Beyond them,
               Nell's candle can be seen advancing through the darkness,
               then finally she herself is disclosed In this moving pool of
               light as she comes up to the desk and sets the candle down.

                         He's quiet now. That was kind of

                         It's just that I don't care for sad
                         music with my game of paroli. Let
                         us play.

                         A card?

                         Five pounds.

                         Any others?

               LONG SHOT - SHOOTING PAST the group of card players TOWARD
               the main door.   Dorothea, and her pillar are in the
               perimeter of the candlelight.   Out of the darkness behind
               her, his hands folded behind his back, Sims appears.   He
               watches the card players for a moment. Then, almost absently,
               he lifts his hand and pats Dorothea's cheek.

               CLOSE SHOT - the four card players, as Sims comes quietly up
               to them. They look up.

                         A very pleasant group you make,
                         dear people.

               They all look at him without answering, Dan crouches away,
               making soft, placating SOUNDS, He disappears into the

                         It's so nice to find you here among
                         the upper classes, Mistress Bowen.
                         But then it is exactly where I
                         expected you to be.
                         It's a law of physics -- the
                         lighter elements, like scum, rise
                         to the top.

                         I thank you, Master Sims -- a
                         delicate compliment —-

                         (bowing his acknowledgment)
                         I see that you have joined what
                         little we have of society -- the
                         group around the pillar. Is this
                         the brotherhood your Quaker friend
                         preaches? Or perhaps you're afraid
                         among the rest — those dark shadows
                         I see about me --

                         I'm not afraid.

                         Then you've forgotten.

                         Forgotten what?

                         Forgotten that you were going to
                         reform Bedlam -- cleanliness and
                         soft beds for the delight of the
                         patients -- good treatment — Well,
                         you've been here a week, Mistress
                         Bowen and your only friends are
                         these — our nobility.
                         The brotherhood of man --

                         And give me clean straw -- I'll
                         make beds for them. Bandages — and
                         I'll bind their wounds — water and
                         soap --

                         That would delight me to too. You
                         shall have water -- you shall have
                         soap -- you shall have straw
                         enough. I hope you make good use of

                         I shall.  Never fear.

                         But now I leave you to dream about
                         these Augean labors. May you find
                         your dreams sweet and cleanly.

               He turns and goes toward the door. On his way, he again
               passes Dorothea and again pats her cheek.

                                                       FADE OUT

                                                       FADE IN


               A few people pass along the street.


               CLOSE SHOT - Oliver Todd is busily writing. The camera is set
               up on his back.

                                   GRAY'S VOICE
                         But where is it — you promised a
                         chapter for today.

               The CAMERA BEGINS TO PULL BACK TO Master John Gray, stationer
               and publisher, a well-fed man. He is bending over Oliver,
               berating him testily, Sidney Long, his book in his hand,
               slouches nearby.

                         I appeal to you. Master Long — is
                         it fair? I support his family —
                         feed his children — even pay my
                         tupence to come in and get my
                         script and it is not ready.

                         We've been busy. We've been helping
                         Mistress Bowen.

                         Mistress Bowen — who is she?

               Long points.

               LONG SHOT.  A thin crowd of people are gathered at one place. 
               The camera is set up to show the crowd but not what they are
               working at.

               CLOSE SHOT - Nell, in the middle of the crowd of loonies. 
               They are stupidly staring while she bulks together a heap of 
               straw and covers it as neatly as she can with a thin blanket.   
               Beyond her,  other similar pallets can be seen neatly
               arranged along the wall.  The loonies watch her stupidly.   
               She finishes making up the pallet, dusts off nor knees and
               starts down the hall.

               MED. FULL SHOT - Gray, Long and Todd.

                         Oh - a new female warder -- now
                         about a next chapter —

                         Not a warder, Master Gray -- an
                         inmate like ourselves who does all
                         she can to help her fellow

                         What can she do?

                         Look, I'll show you.


               THE PAGES OF THE BOOK as they flutter past, revealing that a
               series of drawings have been made; drawings which are
               animated by the movement of the  pages.

               These animated drawings show a girl feeding a person in bed;
               reading to a man chained to a wall.    As the pages flutter
               past, Long's voice can be heard.

                                   LONG'S VOICE
                         What can she do you ask?    She can
                         feed those who have not wit enough
                         to feed themselves -- she can wash
                         the helpless —  cheer, the
                         despondent —  she  can --  she is
                         an angel in this darkness.

                                                       BACK TO SCENE.

                         Very interesting -- but this book
                         you have —  those drawings-

                         Oh --  the pictures — you don't
                         half their wonder,  Master Gray —
                         If I could only get a light behind
                         these pages I could throw them
                         large as life up on the wall.

                         Aye —-  that's not a bad notion one
                         could charge admission. You could
                         even tell the story Todd's writing
                         that way.

                             (in the manner of one 
                              imparting a secret)
                         You forget --  it's because of
                         these pictures that I'm here --
                         that and because I'm the best
                         lawyer in England,   I, the most
                         skilled of them all.

                         Oh, yes, that's true.

               He turns to Todd.

                         And you,  Oliver — You'd best
                         finish that chapter by tomorrow or
                         I'll withdraw my support from your
                         family.    Understand?

               Without, turning, Todd nods his head.


               MED. CLOSE SHOT - Nell, as she comes along the corridor
               behind the pillars.  She passes Dan lounging against a pillar
               and stops to-speak to him.

                         Dan, did you chance to see a

                         A trowel? I'll build you a wall — a
                         wall that high.

                         Master Long, have you seen a

                         I beg your pardon.

                         A trowel — a mason's instrument. I
                         mislaid it some days ago.  I'd like
                         it back.

                         Oh, yes -- a trowel.

               He looks suspiciously at Nell.

                         I'm not mad, Master Long. I had a

                             (comfortingly as to a
                         Oh, certainly, Mistress Bowen.
                         We'll help you find it.

               Nell shrugs hopelessly at him and smiles.

                         You think I'm mad. Sometimes I
                         think I've gone mad myself,
                         scrubbing and making beds and all
                         for people who don't even know that
                         I'm trying to help them.

                         They know.


               Sims,  attended by two guards,   comes through and starts
               down the room.   He comes up to the  group around the pillar.   
               Dan is  slightly in his way.   He  raises his arm
               threateningly.    Dan merely looks at him with a stupid sort
               of interest but no fear. Sims looks puzzled for a moment,  
               then pushes  the  idiot out of his way..

                         Good morning,  Mistress Bowen —

               Nell nods  to him in dignified greeting.

                         (looking about)
                         What a happy place this has become.
                         Everything is so much cleaner --
                         the idiots even have their faces
                         Only a little time and this
                         wonderful change in Bedlam! What
                         wonders will you not accomplish in
                         a life time.

               He makes a mock bow.

                         Madame, you are to be

                         What do you want?

                         I want only to reward you. Didn't
                         you ask for a separate sleeping

                         I'd like  to sleep  in peace,.           
                         The main room is noisy at night.

                         And I have a room for you --  a
                         prettier chamber --  if you will
                         come with me  --

               Nell rises.


               Two guards with cold chisels, hammers and bolt clippers are
               snapping chains, the links of which come through holes in the
               wall and are passed around a stone pillar in the corridor.

               INT. TOM THE TIGER'S CAGE - DAY

               Tom reacts in surprise as first one chain and then another
               falls to the floor. He takes a great draught of air into his
               lungs. He moves cautiously, feeling his freedom.  His eyes
               move wildly.


               TRUCKING SHOT - Nell,  Sims and the  two guards behind them.

                         Unfortunately, you will have to
                         share this comfortable apartment
                         with one other.  I'm sure you won't
                         mind that•

                         Better one than a hundred.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - to show Nell, Sims and the two guards
               approaching the cage. Sims takes out a key,

                         This is your new chamber, my dear

               Inside the cage the gigantic maniac is beginning to move away
               from the wall, still tremulous with his new freedom; his
               movements hesitant.

               CLOSE TWO SHOT - Nell and Sims.

                             (with a gesture)
                         Won't you enter?

               Nell looks at him.

                         You've not driven me mad yet, Sims.
                         I would not go in there.

                         And I wanted so much to please you-

               Nell starts to turn away. Sims catches hold of her elbow.

                                   SIMS (CONT'D)
                         Wait.  This was to show you — that
                         all those mawkish theories you've
                         learned from the Quaker are lies. 
                         Men are not brothers — men are not
                         born kind and good — even the
                         mindless ones are savage and must
                         be ruled with force.

                         I know your thoughts on the matter,
                         Sims, they do not interest me.

                             (disregarding this)
                         With the others, yes, you could
                         prove the little value of
                         gentleness — but look at this man --
                         look at him and tell me that kind
                         words and tender deeds can rule him
                         -- look!

               He crushes her elbow in his hand to emphasize his point.

                         I am looking —  it proves nothing.

                         But you don't dare enter the cage
                         with him -- that proves much --
                         that proves the falseness of all
                         that you have come to believe.

               NELL It does not.

                         Well, then, enter the cage, gentle
                         him with a word -- conquer him with
                         kindness -- or admit that your
                         Quaker lies.

               Nell looks directly at him, then, firming her will, she takes
               a step toward the door.

                         You would enter.

               Nell nods. He opens the door wide enough for her to pass
               through. She hesitates, then steps slowly into the cage. Sims
               clangs shut the door behind her..

               INT. TOM THE TIGER'S CAGE - DAY

               In his first astonishment Tom retreats from her. She stands
               still, a pace within the door, and looks at him. He takes a
               few steps toward her, almost as if impelled with animal
               curiosity. He circles to one side, then hunches his great
               shoulders. His whole body grows tense like that of some tiger
               who stiffens before he leaps.

                         My friend, you do not wish to hurt
                         me, nor I you.

               It is the first gentle word spoken to him in years• Before
               his madness can triumph over his surprise, Nell walks to a
               small chair, catches up her skirts and seats herself.

                         Perhaps you would like to talk. I
                         will listen to you.

               The gigantic maniac places himself before her and tries to
               talk. Only inarticulate gasping sounds come from his mouth.
               He gesticulates wildly. Then again he breaks into a frenzy of
               gasping, disarticulated sound.

                         I know -- you are trying to
                         remember — some day you will. 

               He is silent.

                         You will remember -- some day you
                         will remember.

               She looks up at Sims.

               CLOSE SHOT - Sims.    He shrugs and turns away leaving the 
               cage  door unlocked behind him.



               Wilkes and his political supporters crowd the little
               publishing house. Most of them are admiring a poster hanging
               up on the wall which reads:
                       Your Votes, Poll and Interest are desired for
                                       JOHN WILKES
                                Citizen and Joiner, to be
                      He having more creditors than any other person.

               A little away from this group stand John Wilkes, Hannay and

                         — and the bailiff came. She went
                         with him to Bedlam.

                         Apparently Sims fears an
                         investigation. Men have rid
                         themselves of unwanted wives by
                         that sweet expedient but it
                         takes Sims to forestall criticism
                         with imprisonment.

                         I will not believe such ill even of
                         him — but she is there.
                         I have spoken with her. She's as
                         sane as thee or me.

                         Mistress Nell with that bright,
                         quick mind of hers -- saner than
                         either a politician or a Quaker. 
                         This is still England, Hannay, and
                         we have laws here — laws of right
                         and justice. I shall see that Sims
                         feels their full weight,

               He pats the Quaker's shoulder.

                         We'll have Nell out of Bedlam in a
                         twinkle -- never fear --

                                                       FADE OUT

                                                       FADE IN


               FULL SHOT - Two maniacs are seated together on the floor. One
               has a book in his hand, but from it he reads incongruous

                                   FIRST MANIAC
                         Let Hull, house of Hull rejoice
                         with Subis a bird called the Spight
                         which, breaks the eagle's eggs. Let
                         Scroop, house of Scroop rejoice
                         with Fig-Wine-Palmi primarium
                         vinum. Not so - Palrai-primum is
                         the word. Let Hollingstead, house
                         of Hollingstead rejoice with
                         Sissitietaeris herb of good
                         fellowship. Praise the name of the
                         Lord September 1762.

               While he reads the other maniac keeps shouting.

                                   SECOND MANIAC
                         That's not right -- that's not
                         right -- that's not the word of
                         Truth -- the word of Truth is

               With this last remark he tears the Bible from the other's
               hand and the two begin to fight madly for its possession. In
               the struggle the Bible is torn and its leaves scattered.

               Nell, with Tom the Tiger following her, comes into the scene.

                         Oh, Wallace — Edward — Stop!

               She takes the Bible from them. Tom gets on his knees to pick
               up the torn pages, handing them to her one by one.

                                   SECOND MANIAC
                         We were fighting over the word

               Nell grins.

                         Wiser men than you have fought
                         about it, Edward.

                                   SIMS' VOICE
                         Mistress Bowen --

               She turns. Sims comes into the scene attended by his two

                         — a word with you.

               She steps quietly forward.

                         I have good news.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - showing that behind Sims and Nell is the
               pillar near which Todd's desk is placed. Todd is busily
               working and Long, as usual, is leaning against the desk,
               thumbing his book of motion pictures.

                         You are to have a new hearing
                         before the commission.


                         When it pleases the Commission.                                                

               She starts to turn away very disappointed. Sims takes her

                         It will please them to have your
                         hearing tomorrow afternoon. I'm
                         delighted for your sake.                                                              

               Nell gives him a quick, direct look.

                         Indeed, I am so pleased -- you've
                         so endeared yourself to me -- that
                         I want to do everything possible to
                         make sure your hearing is a success
                         -- that you will be released --

                         Thank you.                                                                                                

                         In fact, I have ordered our most
                         beneficient remedy for you.

               At Nell's foot, Tom the Tiger reacts to this; begins to
               crouch away. Nell puts her hand down, touches his shoulder
               and quiets him.

               TWO SHOT - Long and Todd. For the first time, Todd lays down
               his pen and turns to listen. Long's face is a study in
               frightened Interest.

               MED. FULL SHOT - Sims, Nell, Long, Todd and Tom. Sims looks
               around at Long and Todd, savoring their fright. Nell also
               looks at them. What she sees in their faces puzzles her.

                         A remedy, Master Sims?

                         Have they --
                             (pointing to Long and
                         not told you?

               Nell shakes her head.

                         It is my own invention -- a cure --
                         a specific for the lax and
                         wandering mind.

               He takes Tom's shoulder and moves him a little so that the
               light falls on the kneeling maniac's face.

                         Look at him. When he came here he
                         had but one concern -- to remember
                         something he had forgotten -- I
                         tried to help him with my remedy --

               Sims sighs deeply.

                         Perhaps I was not drastic enough.                                           

                         I need no cure.

                         Just to be sure, Mistress Bowen.


                         I've given you an invitation. Now I
                         must speak as your physician. Come
                         with me.

                         I'll take my chances with the                                                    
                         Commissioners.  I need no cure,

                         As the Apothecary General of
                         Bedlam, I order you.


                         If you insist upon it, I must force

               He takes a step toward her.

                         Force me? Here? Look around you.

                         Do you think your friends will help

                         I have helped them.

                         You expect them to band together
                         and overwhelm me. If they could
                         reason so, they would not be here.

               He comes closer to her.                                                                                       

                         I warn you. They know me. They know
                         that I've helped them -- been kind
                         to them --

                         And so they love you and will aid
                         you -- again that Quaker nonsense --

               He comes right up to her and seizes her wrist. She pulls
               back. For a moment they stand silently, pulling in opposite
               directions, then his superior strength begins to tell and she
               is forced to take a step toward him. From the darkness two
               arms suddenly reach in and seize Sims. He drops Nell's wrist
               and tries to yank himself free. A whole group of lunatics
               crowd in upon him, grasping him with their hands. Nell backs
               away from him, one hand restraining Tom.

                         Let go of me.

                             (stepping to Nell's side)
                         Hold him.

                         Warders -- help -- warders --

                         Shout away, Master Sims. Shout
                         away. Your men are used to Bedlam
                         and its noises -- they have heard
                         too many cries to pay attention to

               Sims sees the logic in her speech and keeps silent.

                         As for me, I'll just borrow your
                         keys, Master Sims.

               She takes them from his hand.

               LONG SHOT - As Nell, the keys in her hand, runs toward the
               main door. Todd sees her and rises from his place at the desk
               and goes quickly after her. At the main door he catches up to
               her as she inserts the key into the lock.

               TWO SHOT - Todd and Nell.

                             (as he lays a restraining
                              hand on Nell's wrist)
                         No — Mistress Bowen — not that way.
                         There's a warder in the hall                             
                         and another at the front door.                                  

                         But you heard him threaten me with
                         the treatment. I can't stay here.

                         There's a little window that is
                         left unbarred —                                                      

                         I think I know that window, Master
                         Todd. You are mad if you think I'll
                         try to climb through that window as
                         Colby did, and others before him, I
                         dare say.

                         I'm not mad, Mistress Bowen — I'm
                         not like the others here. I've been
                         placed here, by my family to keep
                         me from drink - so that I may write
                         and support them. I know that
                         little window is dangerous --
                         designed for a death trap -- but
                         those who tried before were men of
                         small strength.

                         I'm no Hercules

                         Tom could lift you through that

               Nell considers this, the nods.

                         You can go through that door

               They start off in that direction.

               MED. PULL SHOT - Sims as he still struggles in the grasp of
               his captors. He is addressing himself to Long who still
               stands before him.

                         Long — you've more reason than the
                         rest and I expect more from you —
                         you know that there are chains to
                         bind you and rods to beat out the
                         punishment you'll get for this. You
                         understand that don't you?

               Long nods mutely.

                         Then go to the door — call the
                         warders for me -- or else you'll
                         feel the weight of those chains and
                         the bite of the rods on your back.

               Long hesitates.

                         Do as I say.

                             (hesitating and  looking
                              around; frightened)
                         But the rest — what will they do to

                         Are you afraid of their vengeance?
                         They couldn't think far enough
                         ahead for that. They are lunatics.
                         They have been tried and found
                         incompetent by fair trial.

                         Trial? Quo Warranto — corpus
                         delicti — cum grano salis.

                         Ah yes, I'd forgotten you were a

                         A lawyer, air? I am a Judge.
                             (in great excitement)
                         I am a judge —
                             (levelling his finger in
                              Sims' face)
                         I, the most skilled of them all —
                         and you shall be judged — judged I

               There is a general movement of excitement among the lunatics.
               They move curiously forward; some grinning, some snickering
               in excitement.

                         Bailiffs, hold that man! He
                         disturbs the court.

               Three or four lunatics, including one of the women, fasten
               themselves onto Sims' arms. A woman maniac begins to twitter,

                         Try him — try him,

                         A fair trial for Master Sims —- a
                         fair trial —

               Sims struggles in the grasp of his captors.

               ANOTHER ANGLE -As Nell, followed by Tom and Todd, passes the
               struggling group, Sims reaches out one hand to her and calls,

                         Mistress Bowen — speak to them --
                         please speak to them -- I beseech

               Nell pauses, looks at him and then laughingly says.

                         Give Master Sims a fair trial.

               She turns and with Tom following her, walks across to the
               small door near the cage. She unlocks it and followed by Tom
               disappears into the darkness of the corridor.



               CLOSE SHOT - Nell and Tom come out onto the window ledge.

                         Tom -- you must get up on the roof.
                         You are to go first, then you must
                         pull me up — up — you understand?

               He nods, Nell throws open the window and gives him a little
               pat on the shoulder. He starts to climb out.
               Evidently, he has found a hand-hold above him as first his
               head, then his torso and finally his legs disappear, Nell
               edges out to the outer ledge of the window and lifts her hand



               Tom kneeling in the gutter.    He has  one hand extended down
               over the edge and this hand is wound tight around Nell's
               upraised wrist.

                         Tom —

               He starts to pull. She lets her feet slide off the window
               ledge and is suspended above the street.

               CLOSE SHOT - PROCESS - Tom and Nell.  The strain of pulling
               Nell up brings Tom's head back so that he sees the stars
               above him. He looks at the stars, forgetting all else. He has
               forgotten about Nell. She swings suspended by only one hand
               four stories above the hard cobbles of the street,

               CLOSE SHOT - Nell.

                         Tom —  Tom —

               TWO SHOT -  Nell, frantic, but  still holding her voice to a

                         Tom —  Tom —

               Suddenly,  comprehension dawns  on Tom's  face.    With a
               great effort he pulls her up and she scrambles   safely onto 
               the gutter.    She crouches there, breathing heavily, Tom
               looks at the stars. Then she starts off over the roofs, 
               leading Tom.


               LONG SHOT.    In the dimly lighted room pandemonium reigns
               without let or license.    The insane patients, shouting in
               excitement,  are in a great crowd about the pillar where Long
               and Todd habitually stay.

               Todd's desk has boon converted into a bar of justice and
               behind it sits a stout lunatic with a dirty sheep's skin
               spread over his head to Imitate a judge's wig. Behind him
               stands a thin, sombre-looking idiot who makes exact splitting
               motions in front of his face.

                         I am Solomon the Wise -- split him
                         in two -- split him in two.

               A jury of twenty crazy men and women are herded together by
               Don the Dog to the right of the desk. At the left, surrounded
               by other lunatics, held by two crazy bailiffs is Master Sims.
               Long, himself, is the crown advocate. Oliver Todd, the sanest
               of them all, is evidently acting for the accused.

               MED. FULL SHOT - Long.

                             (pointing an accusing
                         And so, Milords, we have brought
                         this man before you to answer for
                         those crimes — these crimes which I
                         shall number for you —• neglect —

               A great shout rises from the lunatics.

                         -- cruelty —-

               Another yell that grows fiercer arises.

                             (as he continues more
                         — whippings — beatings — dirty
                         straw to lie upon —

               Some of the lunatics dance around Sims, tearing off their
               garments to show the marks from the lash; the bruises from
               the club.

                         A great shout rises and above it
                         can be heard the clanking of the
                         chains from those still fastened to
                         the walls•

                         Starvation -- stealing our food —
                         for all these crimes, Milords and
                         Gentlemen of the Jury, I ask

               A roar from the crowd follows. Sims tries to speak but his
               words are drowned out by the shouting of the maniacs. They
               swarm about him. Some pluck at his clothing with their
               fingers. He goes down to his knees, the lunatics rain blows
               on him.

               CLOSE SHOT - Sims. His face is battered. He is shaken by the
               blows and kicks of his charges. He tries to make himself
               heard, pleading with outstretched arms and finally his words
               can be heard.

                         I beg you — let me speak — lot me

               It is to no avail. They surge toward him again and again the
               kicks and blows rain down.



               After the hurly-burly shouting and screaming of Bedlam here
               is perfect peace. The monotone of the Quaker costumes, the
               orderly lines of the benches and the deep quiet with which
               those simple people commune with God give a feeling of great
               peace. Hannay sits at the end of one bench near the door.
               Suddenly, that door bursts open and Nell stands there, wildly
               disheveled by her flight, her eyes and face glowing with
               excitement. She takes the few quick steps necessary to bring
               her to Hannay's side.

                         William —

                         Shh. This is God's house.

                         (lowering her tone)
                         I broke free from Bedlam.

                         But thee should not have run from
                         there -- thee were to have a new
                         hearing tomorrow.

                         If I lived that long. He had some
                         treatment that he was to give me —
                         a treatment that made even the
                         maddest of them shudder to hear --
                         I ran --and they have him now.

                         Who has him?

                         The loonies — they've seized him
                         and are trying him in mockery--
                         they will kill him. It is what he

                         Hush. Thee should not speak of any
                         man that way.  Have they killed

                         They will — they will --

               Hannay starts to rise and takes her arm.

                         Then thee must go to him. Thee must
                         speak to the poor afflicted ones
                         and save him.

                         Save him?

                         Can one know his mind? Can one know
                         what sickness lies in it? As thee
                         were kind to those in Bedlam, thee
                         must be kind to those whose
                         sickness forces them to hurt their
                         fellow man.

               Nell hesitates.

                         Is it not the same thing? Has Sims
                         not a madness thee can pity?

               Nell  thinks, then nods.

                         Come  -- we  shall get Wilkes  — he
                         will help us  —

               He  starts to lead her from the Quaker Meeting House.


               The rush lights have burned low and  only two portions of the
               place are  well  illuminated; the pillar around which the
               main group of  the  insane are gathered around Sims and the
               other pillar where Dorothea,   the Dove stands in deep

               CLOSE THREE  SHOT   -  Sims as he faces Todd and Long. Behind
               him is the  spectral figure  of Solomon.  Sims has been
               pretty well battered.   His wig is gone. His face is dirty
               and bruised.

                         I did not want to hurt you. I did
                         not want to put chains                    
                         on you — to starve you  --to steal
                         from you.

                         But you did.  And now it  is our

                         You  will  not dare harm me.
                         They'll load you with chains,
                         scourge you with the  cat. Then you 
                         shall really know what cruelty can
                         be.     I warn you.

                         Your vengeance is not our present
                         concern.  What you have done
                         concerns us -- why you did it.

                         I  told you  --  I had  to  -- even
                         as you do things because you have
                         to do them -- even when you know 
                         they're wrong --

                         But  why?

                         (still addressing himself  to Todd)
                         Can't you understand?    This  is a
                         great world and strong men with
                         great advantages rule over it and
                         men like me are frightened -- born
                         poor and misshapen —

                         Did you beat us out of fright Sims 
                         did you starve us out of fear?

                         Split him in two.

               The crowd moves forward, yelling. Long and Todd hold them
               back with outstretched arms.  Sims cringes.

                         Is that why you still threaten us
                         if harm comes to you?

                             (turning to him with a
                         I warn you -- the chains —- the
                         rods —

                         You spoke of your fear —

                         It is a great world -- a world of
                         force and pomp and power —-                              
                         and I was frightened at my
                         littleness - my ugliness and my

                         And for that you struck and starved

                         It is the frightened dog that bites
                         -- and I had to fawn and toady and
                         make a mock of myself so that all I
                         could hear was the world laughing
                         at my ugliness, I was afraid.

                         You had to strike us.

                         Yes -- yes -- can't you understand?

                         I understand.

                         Split him in two.

                         And our punishment —

                         Let me go. There will be no

                         He is sane.  There is a fear in him
                         — a fear that strikes out -- that
                         claws and tears at the world like a
                         singed cat. He is sane.

                         He will not punish us. He is sane.

                         This man is sane.

                         Split him in two.

               The crowd surges toward Sims, but Long interposes and
               stretches out his arms to stop them,

                         Wait -- wait.

               He is given a little space and a little quiet in which to

                         This man has been judged sane -- he
                         has no place here — he must leave --
                         you cannot harm him -- it is the
                         order of the court that he is sane
                         and that he shall be free.

               The loonies nods their heads sagely. This seems a proper way
               of settling the matter.

                         Bailiffs, release the prisoner!

               The bailiffs let go of Sims. He can hardly believe that he
               has been freed. He looks apprehensively about him, at the
               faces of his charges and then begins cautiously, slowly to
               back toward the door.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - As Sims backs away his course brings him past
               the pillar where Dorothea the Dove stands in her usual statue
               like immobility. He starts to back away past her, moving
               cautiously, keeping his eyes on the gaping lunatics who
               follow him. As he comes close to Dorothea she puts her hand
               into her bosom and draws forth the trowel. With a calm,
               almost majestic movement, she plunges it into Sims' back.  He
               falls to the floor, sprawling, and the lunatics crowding
               about him hide him from view.

               LOW CAMERA SETUP - Showing the loonies around Sims, They are
               frightened at what they have done and begin to move away,
               some furtively, some running.

                         They will punish  all of us.    The
                         Apothecary General is dead.

               CLOSE SHOT  - Sims as he moves weakly.

                                   LONG'S VOICE
                         We must hide him —— somewhere we
                         must hide him --  so that they will
                         never know --

               Many hands come into the shot and the body is lifted up.         

               FULL, SHOT - A group of the loonies as they carry Sims
               through the main hall.

               MED. FULL SHOT - The door near Tom is cage. As the loonies
               come up to it, Long takes a key from Sims' pocket, opens the
               door and they pass through it.

               DOLLY SHOT - As the lunatics carry Sims through the corridor
               of the incurably insane, pandemonium reigns.


               Here are the trowels, the mortar and the stones left by the
               masons, as well as the unfinished wall. The lunatics cane
               into the shot bearing the figure of Sims. With a great effort
               they put him behind the wall, propping him up in an upright
               position and silently with many a glance over their shoulders
               they begin to wall him up. When the stones have reached his
               chest his eyes open.
               Almost as if frightened by this, the lunatics hasten,
               throwing up the blocks of stone, slapping the mortar into
               place. The wall rises above his head and he is blocked out.

                                                           DISSOLVE OUT

                                                           DISSOLVE  IN


               Along the walls the  lunatics are lined- up.    There are
               many warders watching them.  In the center of the hall,
               walking toward the camera is a small group of people
               including a warder,  the Chief Commissioner of Lunacy, 
               another gentleman,  John Wilkes,  Hannay and Nell Bowen.

               MED.  FULL SHOT  - The group.

                         (to Wilkes)
                         -- and when we got here, Master
                         Wilkes, he was gone.  Long said he
                         just left -- disappeared —-

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         That is all I can get out of Long,
                         but I know they must                                                 
                         have killed him.                                                                  

               DOLLY SHOT  - As the group advances toward the  little door
               near Tom's cage.

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         But it's so preposterous, Master
                         Wilkes  — a man like Sims doesn't
                         just disappear.                                                                   

               The little party has reached the door and they pass through
               it into the corridor. The warder leads the way with a lamp.                                                                                   

               INT.  THE CORRIDOR  - DAY                                                                      

               MED. FULL SHOT - As the party proceeds through the
               intersection.    They come to the intersection and stand.   
               Hannay crosses to the wall behind which Sims' body is buried.

                         -—  and that's  precisely why he
                         disappeared.     They tried him,
                         found him guilty of sanity and let
                         him go.   
                         Can you imagine what was in his
                         mind -- the mind of this man who
                         had sworn on all that was holy to
                         aid and comfort these people  -- 
                         can you imagine his feeling of
                         guilt?  I think that is what drove
                         him to run away.                                                                              

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         They killed him.

               CLOSE SHOT - Hannay.  With professional interest he looks at
               the masonry. It seems rough and badly done. He puts his hand
               up and feels the mortar, then looks at his hand. His hand is
               wet. He taps the wall. It is hallow. He turns as if to speak
               to the others of his discovery, then pauses to listen as the
               Chief Commissioner's voice drones on.

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         -- killed him and hid his body
                         somewhere --

                         You can't prove  that without
                         finding his body.

                                   CHIEF COMMISSIONER
                         .......We shall find it and we
                         shall punish them.

                         Yes, I know -— the chains -- the
                         beatings -- I tell you it's no
                         good. What you need here is a
                         better man to fill the post that
                         Sims has fled from — and after him
                         a better man and so on until things
                         here are as they should be; all
                         kindness and care for these poor
                         sick ones,

               TWO SHOT - Nell watching Hannay as he listens to Wilkes. His
               hand is still out-stretched and on his fingers the wet mortar
               can be seen. As Wilkes finishes talking, she and Hannay
               exchange glances.

               ANOTHER ANGLE - Showing the group. The Commissioner and
               Wilkes turn away and start down the corridor. Hannay starts
               after them. Suddenly Nell throws herself in his way,

                         You're not going to tell them.
                         You know what It means to the
                         people in there. Is it not worth
                         silence to save them suffering?                                              

                         I must tell the truth.

                         But no one has asked you.

                             (looking at him with a                                                       
                              twinkle in her eye)
                         I have heard there was much
                         rejoicing in,Heaven for the lost
                         lamb that comes back to the fold.

                         Let me pass, Nell. I must tell

                         With only a little silence you                                                   
                         can win a lost lamb for the                                                       
                         fold, Master Hannay. If you                                                    
                         speak you gain nothing but                                         
                         suffering for those in there.                                 

               Hannay stands puzzled, shaking his head. His conscience seems
               sorely tried.                                                                            

                         They have not asked thee.                                                                  
                         Thou hast no need to affirm and why
                         should thy hand be added to the
                         weight that those people in there
                         must bear. Is that God's Will?                                           

               Hannay looks at her for a moment, then slowly grins.

                         Are we lovers that you thee and                                         
                         thou me?

               Nell smiles back at him.

                                                       FADE OUT

                                         THE END