CITIZEN KANE

PROLOGUE

FADE IN:

EXT. XANADU - FAINT DAWN - 1940 (MINIATURE)

Window, very small in the distance, illuminated.

All around this is an almost totally black screen.  Now, as the camera moves slowly towards the window which is almost a postage stamp in the frame, other forms appear; barbed wire, cyclone fencing, and now, looming up against an early morning sky, enormous iron grille work.  Camera travels up what is now shown to be a gateway of gigantic proportions and holds on the top of it - a huge initial "K" showing darker and darker against the dawn sky.  Through this and beyond we see the fairy-tale mountaintop of Xanadu, the great castle a sillhouette as its summit, the little window a distant accent in the darkness.

DISSOLVE:

(A SERIES OF SET-UPS, EACH CLOSER TO THE GREAT WINDOW, ALL TELLING SOMETHING OF:)

The literally incredible domain of CHARLES FOSTER KANE.

Its right flank resting for nearly forty miles on the Gulf Coast, it truly extends in all directions farther than the eye can see.  Designed by nature to be almost completely bare and flat - it was, as will develop, practically all marshland when Kane acquired and changed its face - it is now pleasantly uneven, with its fair share of rolling hills and one very good-sized mountain, all man-made.  Almost all the land is improved, either through cultivation for farming purposes of through careful landscaping, in the shape of parks and lakes.  The castle dominates itself, an enormous pile, compounded of several genuine castles, of European origin, of varying architecture - dominates the scene, from the very peak of the mountain.

DISSOLVE:

GOLF LINKS (MINIATURE)

Past which we move.  The greens are straggly and overgrown, the fairways wild with tropical weeds, the links unused and not seriously tended for a long time.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

WHAT WAS ONCE A GOOD-SIZED ZOO (MINIATURE)

Of the Hagenbeck type.  All that now remains, with one exception, are the individual plots, surrounded by moats, on which the animals are kept, free and yet safe from each other and the landscape at large.  (Signs on several of the plots indicate that here there were once tigers, lions, girrafes.)

DISSOLVE:

THE MONKEY TERRACE (MINIATURE)

In the foreground, a great obscene ape is outlined against the dawn murk.  He is scratching himself slowly, thoughtfully, looking out across the estates of Charles Foster Kane, to the distant light glowing in the castle on the hill.

DISSOLVE:

THE ALLIGATOR PIT (MINIATURE)

The idiot pile of sleepy dragons.  Reflected in the muddy water - the lighted window.

THE LAGOON (MINIATURE)

The boat landing sags.  An old newspaper floats on the surface of the water - a copy of the New York Enquirer."  As it moves across the frame, it discloses again the reflection of the window in the castle, closer than before.

THE GREAT SWIMMING POOL (MINIATURE)

It is empty.  A newspaper blows across the cracked floor of the tank.

DISSOLVE:

THE COTTAGES (MINIATURE)

In the shadows, literally the shadows, of the castle.  As we move by, we see that their doors and windows are boarded up and locked, with heavy bars as further protection and sealing.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

A DRAWBRIDGE (MINIATURE)

Over a wide moat, now stagnant and choked with weeds.  We move across it and through a huge solid gateway into a formal garden, perhaps thirty yards wide and one hundred yards deep, which extends right up to the very wall of the castle.  The landscaping surrounding it has been sloppy and causal for a long time, but this particular garden has been kept up in perfect shape.  As the camera makes its way through it, towards the lighted window of the castle, there are revealed rare and exotic blooms of all kinds.  The dominating note is one of almost exaggerated tropical lushness, hanging limp and despairing.  Moss, moss, moss.  Ankor Wat, the night the last King died.

DISSOLVE:

THE WINDOW (MINIATURE)

Camera moves in until the frame of the window fills the frame of the screen.  Suddenly, the light within goes out.  This stops the action of the camera and cuts the music which has been accompanying the sequence.  In the glass panes of the window, we see reflected the ripe, dreary landscape of Mr. Kane's estate behind and the dawn sky.

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN - 1940

A very long shot of Kane's enormous bed, silhouetted against the enormous window.

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN - 1940

A snow scene.  An incredible one.  Big, impossible flakes of snow, a too picturesque farmhouse and a snow man.  The jingling of sleigh bells in the musical score now makes an ironic reference to Indian Temple bells - the music freezes -

					    KANE'S OLD OLD
						VOICE
			    Rosebud...

The camera pulls back, showing the whole scene to be contained in one of those glass balls which are sold in novelty stores all over the world.  A hand - Kane's hand, which has been holding the ball, relaxes.  The ball falls out of his hand and bounds down two carpeted steps leading to the bed, the camera following.  The ball falls off the last step onto the marble floor where it breaks, the fragments glittering in the first rays of the morning sun.  This ray cuts an angular pattern across the floor, suddenly crossed with a thousand bars of light as the blinds are pulled across the window.

The foot of Kane's bed.  The camera very close.  Outlined against the shuttered window, we can see a form - the form of a nurse, as she pulls the sheet up over his head.  The camera follows this action up the length of the bed and arrives at the face after the sheet has covered it.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. OF A MOTION PICTURE PROJECTION ROOM

On the screen as the camera moves in are the words:

"MAIN TITLE"

Stirring, brassy music is heard on the soundtrack (which, of course, sounds more like a soundtrack than ours.)

The screen in the projection room fills our screen as the second title appears:

"CREDITS"

NOTE:  Here follows a typical news digest short, one of the regular monthly or bi-monthly features, based on public events or personalities.  These are distinguished from ordinary newsreels and short subjects in that they have a fully developed editorial or storyline.  Some of the more obvious characteristics of the "March of Time," for example, as well as other documentary shorts, will be combined to give an authentic impression of this now familiar type of short subject.  As is the accepted procedure in these short subjects, a narrator is used as well as explanatory titles.

FADE OUT:

NEWS DIGEST

					    NARRATOR
			    Legendary was the Xanadu where Kubla
			    Kahn decreed his stately pleasure
			    dome -
				    (with quotes in his voice)
			    "Where twice five miles of fertile
			    ground, with walls and towers were 
			    girdled 'round."
				    (dropping the quotes)
			    Today, almost as legendary is Florida's
			    XANADU - world's largest private 
			    pleasure ground.  Here, on the deserts
			    of the Gulf Coast, a private mountain	
			    was commissioned, successfully built
			    for its landlord.  Here in a private
			    valley, as in the Coleridge poem, 
			    "blossoms many an incense-bearing tree."
			    Verily, "a miracle of rare device."

U.S.A.
CHARLES FOSTER KANE

Opening shot of great desolate expanse of Florida coastline (1940 - DAY)

DISSOLVE:

Series of shots showing various aspects of Xanadu, all as they might be photographed by an ordinary newsreel cameraman - nicely photographed, but not atmospheric to the extreme extent of the Prologue (1940).

					    NARRATOR
				    (dropping the quotes)
			    Here, for Xanadu's landlord, will be
			    held 1940's biggest, strangest funeral;
			    here this week is laid to rest a potent
			    figure of our Century - America's Kubla
			    Kahn - Charles Foster Kane. 
			    In journalism's history, other names
			    are honored more than Charles Foster 
			    Kane's, more justly revered.  Among 
		  	    publishers, second only to James Gordon
			    Bennet the First: his dashing, expatriate
			    son; England's Northcliffe and Beaverbrook;	
			    Chicago's Patterson and McCormick;

TITLE:

TO FORTY-FOUR MILLION U.S. NEWS BUYERS, MORE NEWSWORTHY THAN THE NAMES IN HIS OWN HEADLINES, WAS KANE HIMSELF, GREATEST NEWSPAPER TYCOON OF THIS OR ANY OTHER GENERATION.

Shot of a huge, screen-filling picture of Kane.  Pull back to show that it is a picture on the front page of the "Enquirer," surrounded by the reversed rules of mourning, with masthead and headlines. (1940)

DISSOLVE:

A great number of headlines, set in different types and different styles, obviously from different papers, all announcing Kane's death, all appearing over photographs of Kane himself (perhaps a fifth of the headlines are in foreign languages).  An important item in connection with the headlines is that many of them - positively not all - reveal passionately conflicting opinions about Kane.  Thus, they contain variously the words "patriot," "democrat," "pacifist," "war-monger," "traitor," "idealist," "American," etc.

TITLE:

1895 TO 1940 - ALL OF THESE YEARS HE COVERED, MANY OF THESE YEARS HE WAS.

Newsreel shots of San Francisco during and after the fire, followed by shots of special trains with large streamers: "Kane Relief Organization."  Over these shots superimpose the date - 1906.

Artist's painting of Foch's railroad car and peace negotiators, if actual newsreel shot unavailable.  Over this shot sumperimpose the date - 1918.

					    NARRATOR
			    Denver's Bonfils and Sommes; New York's
			    late, great Joseph Pulitzer; America's
			    emperor of the news syndicate, another
			    editorialist and landlord, the still
			    mighty and once mightier Hearst.  Great
			    names all of them - but none of them so
			    loved, hated, feared, so often spoken -
			    as Charles Foster Kane.
			    The San Francisco earthquake.  First with
			    the news were the Kane papers.  First with
			    Relief of the Sufferers, First with the
			    news of their Relief of the Sufferers.
			    Kane papers scoop the world on the 
			    Armistice - publish, eight hours before
			    competitors, complete details of the 
			    Armistice teams granted the Germans by 
			    Marshall Foch from his railroad car in the
			    Forest of Compeigne.
			    For forty years appeared in Kane newsprint
			    no public issue on which Kane papers took
			    no stand.
			    No public man whom Kane himself did not 
			    support or denounce - often support, then
			    denounce.
			    Its humble beginnings, a dying dailey -

Shots with the date - 1898 (to be supplied)

Shots with the date - 1910 (to be supplied)

Shots with the date - 1922 (to be supplied)

Headlines, cartoons, contemporary newreels or stills of the following:

1.  WOMAN SUFFRAGE
The celebrated newsreel shot of about 1914.

2.  PROHIBITION
Breaking up of a speakeasy and such.

3.  T.V.A.

4.  LABOR RIOTS

Brief clips of old newreel shots of William Jennings Bryan, Theodore Roosevelt, Stalin, Walter P. Thatcher, Al Smith, McKinley, Landon, Franklin D. Roosevelt and such.  Also, recent newsreels of the elderly Kane with such Nazis as Hitler and Goering; and England's Chamberlain and Churchill.

Shot of a ramshackle building with old-fashioned presses showing through plate glass windows and the name "Enquirer" in old-fashioned gold letters. (1892)

DISSOLVE:

					    NARRATOR
			    Kane's empire, in its glory, held
			    dominion over thirty-seven newpapers,
			    thirteen magazines, a radio network.
  			    An empire upon an empire.  The first
			    of grocery stores, paper mills,
			    apartment buildings, factories, forests,
			    ocean-liners -
			    An empire through which for fifty years
			    flowed, in an unending stream, the wealth	
			    of the earth's third richest gold mine...
			    Famed in American legend is the origin
			    of the Kane fortune...  How, to boarding
			    housekeeper Mary Kane, by a defaulting
			    boarder, in 1868 was left the supposedly
			    worthless deed to an abandoned mine shaft:
			    The Colorado Lode.

The magnificent Enquirer Building of today.

1891-1911 - a map of the USA, covering the entire screen, which in animated diagram shows the Kane publications spreading from city to city.  Starting from New York, minature newboys speed madly to Chicago, Detroit, St. Louis, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Washington, Atlanta, El Paso, etc., screaming "Wuxtry, Kane Papers, Wuxtry."

Shot of a large mine going full blast, chimneys belching smoke, trains moving in and out, etc.  A large sign reads "Colorado Lode Mining Co." (1940)  Sign reading; "Little Salem, CO - 25 MILES."

DISSOLVE:

An old still shot of Little Salem as it was 70 years ago (identified by copper-plate caption beneath the still). (1870)

Shot of early tintype stills of Thomas Foster Kane and his wife, Mary, on their wedding day.  A similar picture of Mary Kane some four or five years later with her little boy, Charles Foster Kane.

					    NARRATOR
			    Fifty-seven years later, before a 
			    Congressional Investigation, Walter P.
			    Thatcher, grand old man of Wall Street,
			    for years chief target of Kane papers'
			    attack on "trusts," recalls a journey
			    he made as a youth...

Shot of Capitol, in Washington D.C.

Shot of Congressional Investigating Committee (reproduction of existing J.P. Morgan newsreel).  This runs silent under narration.  Walter P. Thatcher is on the stand.  He is flanked by his son, Walter P. Thatcher Jr., and other partners.  He is being questioned by some Merry Andrew congressmen.  At this moment, a baby alligator has just been placed in his lap, causing considerable confusion and embarrassment.

Newsreel close-up of Thatcher, the soundtrack of which now fades in.

					    THATCHER
			    ...  because of that trivial incident...

					    INVESTIGATOR
			    It is a fact, however, is it not, that
			    in 1870, you did go to Colorado?

					    THATCHER
			    I did.

					    INVESTIGATOR
			    In connection with the Kane affairs?

					    THATCHER
			    Yes.  My firm had been appointed 
			    trustees by Mrs. Kane for the fortune,
			    which she had recently acquired.  It
			    was her wish that I should take charge
			    of this boy, Charles Foster Kane.

					    NARRATOR
			    That same month in Union Square -

					    INVESTIGATOR
			    Is it not a fact that on that occasion,
			    the boy personally attacked you after
			    striking you in the stomach with a sled?

Loud laughter and confusion.

					    THATCHER
			    Mr. Chairman, I will read to this
			    committee a prepared statement I have 
			    brought with me - and I will then refuse
			    to answer any further questions.  Mr.
			    Johnson, please!

A young assistant hands him a sheet of paper from a briefcase.

					    THATCHER
				    (reading it)
			    "With full awareness of the meaning of
			    my words and the responsibility of what
			    I am about to say, it is my considered
			    belief that Mr. Charles Foster Kane, in
			    every essence of his social beliefs and
			    by the dangerous manner in which he has
   			    persistently attacked the American
			    traditions of private property, initiative
			    and opportunity for advancement, is - in
			    fact - nothing more or less than a 
			    Communist."

Newsreel of Union Square meeting, section of crowd carrying banners urging the boycott of Kane papers.  A speaker is on the platform above the crowd.

					    SPEAKER
				    (fading in on soundtrack)
			    - till the words "Charles Foster Kane" 
			    are a menace to every working man in 
			    this land.  He is today what he has 
			    always been and always will be - A
			    FASCIST!

					    NARRATOR
			    And yet another opinion - Kane's own.

Silent newsreel on a windy platform, flag-draped, in front of the magnificent Enquirer building.  On platform, in full ceremonial dress, is Charles Foster Kane.  He orates silently.

TITLE:

"I AM, HAVE BEEN, AND WILL BE ONLY ONE THING - AN AMERICAN."  CHARLES FOSTER KANE.

Same locale, Kane shaking hands out of frame.

Another newsreel shot, much later, very brief, showing Kane, older and much fatter, very tired-looking, seated with his second wife in a nightclub.  He looks lonely and unhappy in the midst of the gaiety.

					    NARRATOR
			    Twice married, twice divorced - first
			    to a president's niece, Emily Norton -
			    today, by her second marriage, chatelaine
			    of the oldest of England's stately homes.
			    Sixteen years after that - two weeks after
			    his divorce from Emily Norton - Kane
			    married Susan Alexander, singer, at the
			    Town Hall in Trenton, New Jersey.

TITLE:

FEW PRIVATE LIVES WERE MORE PUBLIC.

Period still of Emily Norton (1900).

DISSOLVE:

Reconstructed silent newsreel.  Kane, Susan, and Bernstein emerging from side doorway of City Hall into a ring of press photographers, reporters, etc.  Kane looks startled, recoils for an instance, then charges down upon the photographers, laying about him with his stick, smashing whatever he can hit.

					    NARRATOR
			    For wife two, one-time opera singing
			    Susan Alexander, Kane built Chicago's
			    Municipal Opera House.  Cost: three
			    million dollars.  Conceived for Susan
			    Alexander Kane, half-finished before
			    she divorced him, the still unfinished
			    Xanadu.  Cost: no man can say.

Still of architect's sketch with typically glorified "rendering" of the Chicago Municipal Opera House.

DISSOLVE:

A glamorous shot of the almost-finished Xanadu, a magnificent fairy-tale estate built on a mountain. (1920)

Then shots of its preparation. (1917)

Shots of truck after truck, train after train, flashing by with tremendous noise.  

Shots of vast dredges, steamshovels.

Shot of ship standing offshore unloading its lighters.

In quick succession, shots follow each other, some reconstructed, some in miniature, some real shots (maybe from the dam projects) of building, digging, pouring concrete, etc.

					    NARRATOR
			    One hundred thousand trees, twenty 
			    thousand tons of marble, are the 
			    ingredients of Xanadu's mountain.
			    Xanadu's livestock: the fowl of the 
			    air, the fish of the sea, the beast
			    of the field and jungle - two of each;
			    the biggest private zoo since Noah.
			    Contents of Kane's palace: paintings, 
			    pictures, statues, the very stones of 
			    many another palace, shipped to Florida 
			    from every corner of the earth, from 
			    other Kane houses, warehouses, where 
			    they mouldered for years.  Enough for 
			    ten museums - the loot of the world.

More shots as before, only this time we see (in miniature) a large mountain - at different periods in its development - rising out of the sands.

Shots of elephants, apes, zebras, etc. being herded, unloaded, shipped, etc. in various ways.

Shots of packing cases being unloaded from ships, from trains, from trucks, with various kinds of lettering on them (Italian, Arabian, Chinese, etc.) but all consigned to Charles Foster Kane, Xanadu, Florida.

A reconstructed still of Xanadu - the main terrace.  A group of persons in clothes of the period of 1917.  In their midst, clearly recognizable, are Kane and Susan.

					    NARRATOR
			    Kane urged his country's entry into
			    one war, opposed participation in
			    another.  Swung the election to one 
			    American President at least, was 
			    called another's assassin.  Thus,
			    Kane's papers might never have 
			    survived - had not the President.

TITLE:

FROM XANADU, FOR THE PAST TWENTY-FIVE YEARS, ALL KANE ENTERPRISES HAVE BEEN DIRECTED, MANY OF THE NATIONS DESTINIES SHAPED.

Shots of various authentically worded headlines of American papers since 1895.

Spanish-American War shots. (1898)

A graveyard in France of the World War and hundreds of crosses. (1919)

Old newsreels of a political campaign.

Insert of a particularly virulent headline and/or cartoon.

HEADLINE: "PRESIDENT SHOT"

					    NARRATOR
			    Kane, molder of mass opinion though he
			    was, in all his life was never granted
			    elective office by the voters of his
			    country.
			    Few U.S. news publishers have been.  
			    Few, like one-time Congressman Hearst,
			    have ever run for any office - most know
			    better - conclude with other political
  			    observers that one man's press has power
			    enough for himself.  But Kane papers were
			    once strong indeed, and once the prize
			    seemed almost his.  In 1910, as Independent
			    Candidate for governor, the best elements
			    of the state behind him - the White House
			    seemingly the next easy step in a lightning
			    political career -

Night shot of crowd burning Charles Foster Kane in effigy.  The dummy bears a grotesque, comic resemblance to Kane.  It is tossed into the flames, which burn up -

- and then down...  (1910)

FADE OUT:

TITLE:

IN POLITICS - ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID, NEVER A BRIDE

Newsreel shots of great crowds streaming into a building - Madison Square Garden - then shots inside the vast auditorium, at one end of which is a huge picture of Kane.  (1910)

Shot of box containing the first Mrs. Kane and young Howard Kane, age five.  They are acknowledging the cheers of the crowd.  (Silent Shot)  (1910)

Newreel shot of dignitaries on platform, with Kane, alongside of speaker's table, beaming, hand upraised to silence the crowd.  (Silent Shot)  (1910) 

					    NARRATOR
			    Then, suddenly - less than one week
			    before election - defeat!  Shameful,
			    ignominious - defeat that set back
			    for twenty years the cause of reform
			    in the U.S., forever cancelled political
			    chances for Charles Foster Kane.
			    Then, in the third year of the Great
			    Depression...  As to all publishers, it
			    sometimes must - to Bennett, to Munsey
			    and Hearst it did - a paper closes!  For
			    Kane, in four short years: collapse!
			    Eleven Kane papers, four Kane magazines
			    merged, more sold, scrapped -

Newreel shot - closeup of Kane delivering a speech...  (1910)

The front page of a contemporary paper - a screaming headline.  Twin phots of Kane and Susan.  (1910)

Printed title about Depression.

Once more repeat the map of the USA 1932-1939.  Suddenly, the cartoon goes into reverse, the empire begins to shrink, illustrating the narrator's words.

The door of a newspaper office with the signs: "Closed."

					    NARRATOR
			    Then four long years more - alone in
			    his never-finished, already decaying,
			    pleasure palace, aloof, seldom visited,
			    never photographed, Charles Foster Kane
			    continued to direct his falling empire
			    ... vainly attempting to sway, as he 
			    once did, the destinies of a nation that
			    has ceased to listen to him ... ceased
			    to trust him...

Shots of Xanadu.  (1940)

Series of shots, entirely modern, but rather jumpy and obviously bootlegged, showing Kane in a bath chair, swathed in summer rugs, being perambulated through his rose garden, a desolate figure in the sunshine.  (1935)

					    NARRATOR
			    Last week, death came to sit upon the
			    throne of America's Kubla Khan - last
			    week, as it must to all men, death came
			    to Charles Foster Kane.

DISSOLVE:

Cabinent Photograph (Full Screen) of Kane as an old, old man.  This image remains constant on the screen (as camera pulls back, taking in the interior of a dark projection room.

INT. PROJECTION ROOM - DAY - 1940

A fairly large one, with a long throw to the screen.  It is dark.

The image of Kane as an old man remains constant on the screen as camera pulls back, slowly taking in and registering Projection Room.  This action occurs, however, only after the first few lines of encuring dialogue have been spoken.  The shadows of the men speaking appear as they rise from their chairs - black against the image of Kane's face on the screen.

NOTE:  These are the editors of a "News Digest" short, and of the Rawlston magazines.  All his enterprises are represented in the projection room, and Rawlston himself, that great man, is present also and will shortly speak up.

During the entire course of this scene, nobody's face is really seen.  Sections of their bodies are picked out by a table light, a silhouette is thrown on the screen, and their faces and bodies are themselves thrown into silhouette against the brilliant slanting rays of light from the projection room.

A Third Man is on the telephone.  We see a corner of his head and the phone.

					    THIRD MAN
				    (at phone)
			    Stand by.  I'll tell you if we want
			    to run it again.
				    (hangs up)

					    THOMPSON'S VOICE
			    Well?

A short pause.

					    A MAN'S VOICE
			    It's a tough thing to do in a newsreel.
			    Seventy years of a man's life -

Murmur of highly salaried assent at this.  Rawlston walks toward camera and out of the picture.  Others are rising.  Camera during all of this, apparently does its best to follow action and pick up faces, but fails.  Actually, all set-ups are to be planned very carefully to exclude the element of personality from this scene; which is expressed entirely by voices, shadows, sillhouettes and the big, bright image of Kane himself on the screen.

					    A VOICE
			    See what Arthur Ellis wrote about him
			    in the American review?

					    THIRD MAN
			    I read it.  
			    
					    THE VOICE
				    (its owner is already leaning
				     across the table, holding a
				     piece of paper under the desk
				     light and reading from it)
			    Listen:  Kane is dead.  He contributed 
			    to the journalism of his day - the 
			    talent of a mountebank, the morals of a
			    bootlegger, and the manners of a pasha.
			    He and his kind have almost succeeded in	
			    transforming a once noble profession into		
			    a seven percent security - no longer secure.

					     ANOTHER VOICE
			    That's what Arthur Ellis is writing now.
			    Thirty years ago, when Kane gave him his
			    chance to clean up Detroit and Chicago and
			    St. Louis, Kane was the greatest guy in the
			    world.  If you ask me -

				 	    ANOTHER VOICE
			    Charles Foster Kane was a...

Then observations are made almost simultaneous.

					    RAWLSTON'S VOICE
			    Just a minute!

Camera moves to take in his bulk outlined against the glow from the projection room.

					    RAWLSTON
			    What were Kane's last words?

A silence greets this.

					    RAWLSTON
			    What were the last words he said on
			    earth?  Thompson, you've made us a 
			    good short, but it needs character -

					    SOMEBODY'S VOICE
			    Motivation - 

					    RAWLSTON
			    That's it - motivation.  What made Kane
			    what he was?  And, for that matter, what
			    was he?  What we've just seen are the
			    outlines of a career - what's behind the
			    career?  What's the man?  Was he good or
			    bad?  Strong or foolish?  Tragic or silly?
			    Why did he do all those things?  What was
			    he after?
				    (then, appreciating his point)
			    Maybe he told us on his death bed.

					    THOMPSON
			    Yes, and maybe he didn't.

					    RAWLSTON
			    Ask the question anyway, Thompson!  
			    Build the picture around the question,
			    even if you can't answer it.

					    THOMPSON
			    I know, but -

					    RAWLSTON
				    (riding over him like any
				     other producer)
			    All we saw on that screen was a big 
			    American -

					    A VOICE
			    One of the biggest.

					    RAWLSTON
				    (without pausing for this)
			    But how is he different from Ford?  
			    Or Hearst for that matter?  Or
			    Rockefeller - or John Doe?

					    A VOICE
			    I know people worked for Kane will tell
			    you - not only in the newspaper business
			    - look how he raised salaries.  You don't
			    want to forget -

					    ANOTHER VOICE
			    You take his labor record alone, they
			    ought to hang him up like a dog.

					    RAWLSTON
			    I tell you, Thompson - a man's dying
			    words -

					    SOMEBODY'S VOICE
			    What were they?

Silence.

					    SOMEBODY'S VOICE
				    (hesitant)
			    Yes, Mr. Rawlston, what were Kane's
			    dying words?

					    RAWLSTON
				    (with disgust)
			    Rosebud!

A little ripple of laughter at this, which is promptly silenced by Rawlston.

					    RAWLSTON
			    That's right.

					    A VOICE
			    Tough guy, huh?
				    (derisively)
			    Dies calling for Rosebud!

					    RAWLSTON
			    Here's a man who might have been 
			    President.  He's been loved and 
			    hated and talked about as much as 
			    any man in our time - but when he
			    comes to die, he's got something on
			    his mind called "Rosebud."  What
			    does that mean?

					    ANOTHER VOICE
			    A racehorse he bet on once, probably,
			    that didn't come in - Rosebud!

					    RAWLSTON
			    All right.  But what was the race?

There is a short silence.

					    RAWLSTON
			    Thompson!

					    THOMPSON
			    Yes, sir.

					    RAWLSTON
			    Hold this thing up for a week.  Two
			    weeks if you have to...

					    THOMPSON
				    (feebly)
			    But don't you think if we release it
			    now - he's only been dead four days
			    - it might be better than if -

					    RAWLSTON
				    (decisively)
			    Nothing is ever better than finding
			    out what makes people tick.  Go after
			    the people that knew Kane well.  That
			    manager of his - the little guy,
			    Bernstein, those two wives, all the
			    people who knew him, had worked for 
			    him, who loved him, who hated his guts -
				    (pauses)
			    I don't mean go through the City
			    Directory, of course -

The Third Man gives a hearty "yes-man" laugh.

					    THOMPSON
			    I'll get to it right away, Mr.
			    Rawlston.

					    RAWLSTON
			    	    (rising)
			    Good!

The camera from behind him, outlines his back against Kane's picture on the screen.

					    RAWLSTON'S VOICE
				    (continued)
			    It'll probably turn out to be a very
			    simple thing...

FADE OUT:

NOTE:  Now begins the story proper - the seach by Thompson for the facts about Kane - his researches ... his interviews with the people who knew Kane.

It is important to remember always that only at the very end of the story is Thompson himself a personality.  Until then, throughout the picture, we photograph only Thompson's back, shoulders, or his shadow - sometimes we only record his voice.  He is not until the final scene a "character".  He is the personification of the search for the truth about Charles Foster Kane.  He is the investigator.

FADE IN:

EXT. CHEAP CABARET - "EL RANCHO" - ATLANTIC CITY - NIGHT - 1940 (MINIATURE) - RAIN

The first image to register is a sign:

"EL RANCHO"
FLOOR SHOW
SUSAN ALEXANDER KANE
TWICE NIGHTLY

These words, spelled out in neon, glow out of the darkness at the end of the fade out.  Then there is lightning which reveals a squalid roof-top on which the sign stands.  Thunder again, and faintly the sound of music from within.  A light glows from a skylight.  The camera moves to this and closes in.  Through the splashes of rain, we see through the skylight down into the interior of the cabaret.  Directly below us at a table sits the lone figure of a woman, drinking by herself.

DISSOLVE:

INT. "EL RANCO" CABARET - NIGHT - 1940

Medium shot of the same woman as before, finishing the drink she started to take above.  It is Susie.  The music, of course, is now very loud.  Thompson, his back to the camera, moves into the picture in the close foreground.  A Captain appears behind Susie, speaking across her to Thompson.

					    THE CAPTAIN
				    (a Greek)
			    This is Mr. Thompson, Miss Alexander.

Susan looks up into Thompson's face.  She is fifty, trying to look much younger, cheaply blonded, in a cheap, enormously generous evening dress.  Blinking up into Thompson's face, she throws a crink into ther mouth.  Her eyes, which she thinks is keeping commandingly on his, are bleared and watery.

					    SUSAN
				    (to the Captain)
			    I want another drink, John.

Low thunder from outside.

				 	    THE CAPTAIN
			   	    (seeing his chance)
			    Right away.  Will you have something,
			    Mr. Thompson?

					    THOMPSON
				    (staring to sit down)
			    I'll have a highball.

					    SUSAN
				    (so insistently as to make
				     Thompson change his mind
				     and stand up again)
			    Who told you you could sit down here?

					    THOMPSON
			    Oh!  I thought maybe we could have
			    a drink together?

					    SUSAN	
			    Think again!

There is an awkward pause as Thompson looks from her to the Captain.

					    SUSAN
			    Why don't you people let me alone?
			    I'm minding my own business.  You
			    mind yours.

					    THOMPSON
			    If you'd just let me talk to you
			    for a little while, Miss Alexander.
			    All I want to ask you...

					    SUSAN
			    Get out of here!
				    (almost hysterical)
			    Get out!  Get out!

Thompson looks at the Captain, who shrugs his shoulders.

					    THOMPSON
			    I'm sorry.  Maybe some other time -

If he thought he would get a response from Susan, who thinks she is looking at him steelily, he realizes his error.  He nods and walks off, following the Captain out the door.

					    THE CAPTAIN
			    She's just not talking to anybody
			    from the newspapers, Mr. Thompson.

					    THOMPSON
			    I'm not from a newspaper exactly, I -

They have come upon a waiter standing in front of a booth.

					    THE CAPTAIN
				    (to the waiter)
			    Get her another highball.

					    THE WAITER
			    Another double?

					    THE CAPTAIN
				    (after a moment, pityingly)
			    Yes.

They walk to the door.

				 	    THOMPSON
			    She's plastered, isn't she?

					    THE CAPTAIN
			    She'll snap out of it.  Why, until he
			    died, she'd just as soon talk about
			    Mr. Kane as about anybody.  Sooner.

					    THOMPSON
			    I'll come down in a week or so and
			    see her again.  Say, you might be able
			    to help me.  When she used to talk
			    about Kane - did she ever happen to say
			    anything - about Rosebud?

					    THE CAPTAIN
			    Rosebud?

Thompson has just handed him a bill.  The Captain pockets it.

					    THE CAPTAIN
			    Thank you, sir.  As a matter of fact,	
			    yesterday afternoon, when it was in 
			    all the papers - I asked her.  She 
			    never heard of Rosebud.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY - 1940

An excruciatingly noble interpretation of Mr. Thatcher himself executed in expensive marble.  He is shown seated on one of those improbable Edwin Booth chairs and is looking down, his stone eyes fixed on the camera.

We move down off of this, showing the impressive pedestal on which the monument is founded.  The words, "Walter Parks Thatcher" are prominently and elegantly engraved thereon.  Immediately below the inscription we encounter, in a medium shot, the person of Bertha Anderson, an elderly, manish spinnster, seated behind her desk.  Thompson, his hat in his hand, is standing before her.  Bertha is on the phone.

					    BERTHA
				    (into phone)
			    Yes.  I'll take him in now.
				    (hangs up and looks at
				     Thompson)
			    The directors of the Thatcher Library
			    have asked me to remind you again of
			    the condition under which you may
			    inspect certain portions of Mr.
			    Thatcher's unpublished memoirs.  Under
			    no circumstances are direct quotations
			    from his manuscript to be used by you.

					    THOMPSON
			    That's all right.

				   	    BERTHA
			    You may come with me.

Without watching whether he is following her or not, she rises and starts towards a distant and imposingly framed door.  Thompson, with a bit of a sigh, follows.

	DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY - 1940

A room with all the warmth and charm of Napolean's tomb.

As we dissolve in, the door opens in and we see past Thompson's shoulders the length of the room.  Everything very plain, very much made out of marble and very gloomy.  Illumination from a skylight above adds to the general air of expensive and classical despair.  The floor is marble, and there is a gigantic, mahogany table in the center of everything.  Beyond this is to be seen, sunk in the marble wall at the far end of the room, the safe from which a guard, in a khaki uniform, with a revolver holster at his hip, is extracting the journal of Walter P. Thatcher.  He brings it to Bertha as if he were the guardian of a bullion shipment.  During this, Bertha has been speaking.

					    BERTHA
				    (to the guard)
			    Pages eighty-three to one hundred 
			    and forty-two, Jennings.

					    GUARD
			    Yes, Miss Anderson.

					    BERTHA
				    (to Thompson)
			    You will confine yourself, it is our
			    understanding, to the chapter dealing
			    with Mr. Kane.

					    THOMPSON
			    That's all I'm interested in.

The guard has, by this time, delivered the precious journal.  Bertha places it reverently on the table before Thompson.

					    BERTHA
			    You will be required to leave this
			    room at four-thirty promptly.

She leaves.  Thompson starts to light a cigarette.  The guard shakes his head.  With a sigh, Thompson bends over to read the manuscript.  Camera moves down over his shoulder onto page of manuscript.

Manuscript, neatly and precisely written:

"CHARLES FOSTER KANE

WHEN THESE LINES APPEAR IN PRINT, FIFTY YEARS AFTER MY DEATH, I AM CONFIDENT THAT THE WHOLE WORLD WILL AGREE WITH MY OPINION OF CHARLES FOSTER KANE, ASSUMING THAT HE IS NOT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN, WHICH I REGARD AS EXTREMELY LIKELY.  A GOOD DEAL OF NONSENSE HAS APPEARED ABOUT MY FIRST MEETING WITH KANE, WHEN HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD...  THE FACTS ARE SIMPLE.  IN THE WINTER OF 1870..."

The camera has not held on the entire page.  It has been following the words with the same action that the eye does the reading.  On the last words, the white page of the paper

DISSOLVES INTO:

EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870

The white of a great field of snow, seen from the angle of a parlor window.

In the same position of the last word in above Insert, appears the tiny figure of Charles Foster Kane, aged five (almost like an animated cartoon).  He is in the act of throwing a snowball at the camera.  It sails toward us and over our heads, out of scene.

Reverse angle - on the house featuring a large sign reading: 

MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE
HIGH CLASS MEALS AND LODGING
INQUIRE WITHIN

Charles Kane's snowball hits the sign.

INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870

Camera is angling through the window, but the window-frame is not cut into scene.  We see only the field of snow again, same angle as in previous scene.  Charles is manufacturing another snowball.  Now - 

Camera pulls back, the frame of the window appearing, and we are inside the parlor of the boardinghouse.  Mrs. Kane, aged about 28, is looking out towards her son.  Just as we take her in she speaks:

					    MRS. KANE
				    (calling out)
			    Be careful, Charles!

					    THATCHER'S VOICE
			    Mrs. Kane -

					    MRS. KANE
				    (calling out the window
				     almost on top of this)
			    Pull your muffler around your neck, 
			    Charles -

But Charles, deliriously happy in the snow, is oblivious to this and is running away.  Mrs. Kane turns into camera and we see her face - a strong face, worn and kind.

					    THATCHER'S VOICE
			    I think we'll have to tell him now -

Camera now pulls back further, showing Thatcher standing before a table on which is his stove-pipe hat and an imposing multiplicity of official-looking documents.  He is 26 and, as might be expected, a very stuffy young man, already very expensive and conservative looking, even in Colorado.

					    MRS. KANE
			    I'll sign those papers -

					    KANE SR.
			    You people seem to forget that I'm
			    the boy's father.

At the sound of Kane Sr.'s voice, both have turned to him and the camera pulls back still further, taking him in.

Kane Sr., who is the assistant curator in a livery stable, has been groomed as elegantly as is likely for this meeting ever since daybreak.

From outside the window can be heard faintly the wild and cheerful cries of the boy, blissfully cavorting in the snow.

					    MRS. KANE
			    It's going to be done exactly the
			    way I've told Mr. Thatcher -

					    KANE SR.
			    If I want to, I can go to court.
			    A father has a right to -

					    THATCHER
				    (annoyed)
			    Mr. Kane, the certificates that Mr.
			    Graves left here are made out to Mrs.
			    Kane, in her name.  Hers to do with
			    as she pleases -

					    KANE SR.
			    Well, I don't hold with signing my 
			    boy away to any bank as guardian 
			    just because -

					    MRS. KANE
				    (quietly)
			    I want you to stop all this nonsense,
			    Jim.

					    THATCHER
			    The Bank's decision in all matters 
			    concerning his education, his place of
			    residence and similar subjects will be
		  	    final.
				    (clears his throat)

					    KANE SR.
			    The idea of a bank being the guardian -

Mrs. Kane has met his eye.  Her triumph over him finds expression in his failure to finish his sentence.

					    MRS. KANE
				    (even more quietly)
			    I want you to stop all this nonsense,
			    Jim.

					    THATCHER
			    We will assume full management of the
			    Colorado Lode - of which you, Mrs. Kane,
			    are the sole owner.

Kane Sr. opens his mouth once or twice, as if to say something, but chokes down his opinion.

					    MRS. KANE
			    	    (has been reading past 
				     Thatcher's shoulder as he
				     talked)
			    Where do I sign, Mr. Thatcher?

					    THATCHER
			    Right here, Mrs. Kane.

					    KANE SR.
				    (sulkily)
			    Don't say I didn't warn you.

Mrs. Kane lifts the quill pen.

					    KANE SR.
			    Mary, I'm asking you for the last
			    time - anyon'd think I hadn't been
			    a good husband and a -

Mrs. Kane looks at him slowly.  He stops his speech.

					    THATCHER
			    The sum of fifty thousand dollars a 
			    year is to be paid to yourself and
			    Mr. Kane as long as you both live,
			    and thereafter the survivor -

Mrs. Kane puts pen to the paper and signs.

					    KANE SR.
			    Well, let's hope it's all for the best.

					    MRS. KANE
			    It is.  Go on, Mr. Thatcher -

Mrs. Kane, listening to Thatcher, of course has had her other ear bent in the direction of the boy's voice.  Thatcher is aware both of the boy's voice, which is counter to his own, and of Mrs. Kane's divided attention.  As he pauses, Kane Sr. genteelly walks over to close the window.

EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870

Kane Jr., seen from Kane Sr.'s position at the window.  He is advancing on the snowman, snowballs in his hands, dropping to one knee the better to confound his adversary.

					    KANE
			    If the rebels want a fight boys,
			    let's give it to 'em!

He throws two snowballs, missing widely, and gets up and advances another five feet before getting on his knees again.

				    	    KANE
			    The terms are underconditional 
			    surrender.  Up and at 'em!  The 
			    Union forever!

INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870

Kane Sr. closes the window.

				   	    THATCHER
				    (over the boy's voice)
			    Everything else - the principal as
			    well as all monies earned - is to be
			    administered by the bank in trust for
			    your son, Charles Foster Kane, until
			    his twenty-fifth birthday, at which
			    time he is to come into complete 
			    possession.

Mrs. Kane rises and goes to the window.

					    MRS. KANE
			    Go on, Mr. Thatcher.

Thatcher continues as she opens the window.  His voice, as before, is heard with overtones of the boy's.

EXT. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870

Kane Jr., seen from Mrs. Kane's position at the window.  He is now within ten feet of the snowman, with one snowball left which he is holding back in his right hand.

					    KANE
			    You can't lick Andy Jackson!  Old
			    Hickory, that's me!

He fires his snowball, well wide of the mark and falls flat on his stomach, starting to crawl carefully toward the snowman.

					    THATCHER'S VOICE
			    It's nearly five, Mrs. Kane, don't
			    you think I'd better meet the boy -

INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870

Mrs. Kane at the window.  Thatcher is now standing at her side.

					    MRS. KANE
			    I've got his trunk all packed -
				    (she chokes a little)
			    I've it packed for a couple of weeks -

She can't say anymore.  She starts for the hall day.  Kane Sr., ill at ease, has no idea of how to comfort her.

					    THATCHER
			    I've arranged for a tutor to meet
			    us in Chicago.  I'd have brought
			    him along with me, but you were so
			    anxious to keep everything secret -

He stops as he realizes that Mrs. Kane has paid no attention to him and, having opened the door, is already well into the hall that leads to the side door of the house.  He takes a look at Kane Sr., tightens his lips and follows Mrs. Kane.  Kane, shoulders thrown back like one who bears defeat bravely, follows him.

EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870

Kane, in the snow-covered field.  With the snowman between him and the house, he is holding the sled in his hand, just about to make the little run that prefaces a belly-flop.  The Kane house, in the background, is a dilapidated, shabby, two-story frame building, with a wooden outhouse.  Kane looks up as he sees the single file procession, Mrs. Kane at its head, coming toward him.

					    KANE
			    H'ya, Mom.

Mrs. Kane smiles.

					    KANE
			   	    (gesturing at the snowman)
			    See, Mom?  I took the pipe out of
			    his mouth.  If it keeps on snowin',
			    maybe I'll make some teeth and -

					    MRS. KANE
			    You better come inside, son.  You 
			    and I have got to get you all ready
			    for - for -

					    THATCHER
			    Charles, my name is Mr. Thatcher -

					    MRS. KANE
			    This is Mr. Thatcher, Charles.

					    THATCHER
			    How do you do, Charles?

					    KANE SR.
			    He comes from the east.

					    KANE
			    Hello.  Hello, Pop.

					    KANE SR.
			    Hello, Charlie!

					    MRS. KANE
			    Mr. Thatcher is going to take you on
			    a trip with him tonight, Charles.  
			    You'll be leaving on Number Ten.

					    KANE SR.
			    That's the train with all the lights.

				  	    KANE
			    You goin', Mom?

					    THATCHER
			    Your mother won't be going right away,
			    Charles -

					    KANE
			    Where'm I going?

					    KANE SR.
			    You're going to see Chicago and New
			    York - and Washington, maybe...  
			    Isn't he, Mr. Thatcher?

					    THATCHER
				    (heartily)
			    He certainly is.  I wish I were a 
			    little boy and going to make a trip
			    like that for the first time.

					    KANE
			    Why aren't you comin' with us, Mom?

					    MRS. KANE
			    We have to stay here, Charles.

					    KANE SR.
			    You're going to live with Mr. Thatcher
			    from now on, Charlie!  You're going to
			    be rich.  Your Ma figures - that is,
			    er - she and I have decided that this
			    isn't the place for you to grow up in.
			    You'll probably be the richest man in
			    America someday and you ought to -

					    MRS. KANE
			    You won't be lonely, Charles...

					    THATCHER
			    We're going to have a lot of good times
			    together, Charles...  Really we are.

Kane stares at him.

					    THATCHER
			    Come on, Charles.  Let's shake hands.
				    (extends his hand.  Charles
				     continues to look at him)
			    Now, now!  I'm not as frightening as
			    all that!  Let's shake, what do you
			    say?

He reaches out for Charles's hand.  Without a word, Charles hits him in the stomach with the sled.  Thatcher stumbles back a few feet, gasping.

					    THATCHER
			    	    (with a sickly grin)
			    You almost hurt me, Charles.
				    (moves towards him)
			    Sleds aren't to hit people with. 
			    Sleds are to - to sleigh on.  When
			    we get to New York, Charles, we'll
			    get you a sled that will - 

He's near enough to try to put a hand on Kane's shoulder.  As he does, Kane kicks him in the ankle.

				  	    MRS. KANE
			    Charles!

He throws himself on her, his arms around her.  Slowly Mrs. Kane puts her arms around him.

					    KANE
				    (frightened)
			    Mom!  Mom!

					    MRS. KANE
			    It's all right, Charles, it's all
			    right.

Thatcher is looking on indignantly, occasionally bending over to rub his ankle.

				  	    KANE SR.
			    Sorry, Mr. Thatcher!  What the kid
			    needs is a good thrashing!

					    MRS. KANE
			    That's what you think, is it, Jim?

					    KANE SR.
			    Yes.

Mrs. Kane looks slowly at Mr. Kane.

				 	    MRS. KANE
			    	    (slowly)
			    That's why he's going to be brought
			    up where you can't get at him.

DISSOLVE:

1870 - NIGHT (STOCK OR MINIATURE)

Old-fashioned railroad wheels underneath a sleeper, spinning along the track.

DISSOLVE:

INT. TRAIN - OLD-FASHIONED DRAWING ROOM - NIGHT - 1870

Thatcher, with a look of mingled exasperation, annoyance, sympathy and inability to handle the situation, is standing alongside a berth, looking at Kane.  Kane, his face in the pillow, is crying with heartbreaking sobs.

					    KANE
			    Mom!  Mom!

DISSOLVE OUT:

The white page of the Thatcher manuscript.  We pick up the words:

"HE WAS, I REPEAT, A COMMON ADVENTURER, SPOILED, UNSCRUPULOUS, IRRESPONSIBLE."

The words are followed by printed headline on "Enquirer" copy (as in following scene).

INT. ENQUIRER CITY ROOM - DAY - 1898

Close-up on printed headline which reads:

"ENEMY ARMADA OFF JERSEY COAST"

Camera pulls back to reveal Thatcher holding the "Enquirer" copy, on which we read the headline.  He is standing near the editorial round table around which a section of the staff, including Reilly, Leland and Kane are eating lunch.

					    THATCHER
				    (coldly)
			    Is that really your idea of how to
			    run a newspaper?

					    KANE
			    I don't know how to run a newspaper,
			    Mr. Thatcher.  I just try everything
			    I can think of.

					    THATCHER
				    (reading headline of paper
				     he is still holding)
			    "Enemy Armada Off Jersey Coast."  You
			    know you haven't the slightest proof
			    that this - this armada - is off the
			    Jersey Coast.

					    KANE
			    Can you prove it isn't?

Bernstein has come into the picture.  He has a cable in his hand.  He stops when he sees Thatcher.

					    KANE
			    Mr. Bernstein, Mr. Thatcher -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    How are you, Mr. Thatcher?

					    THATCHER
			    How do you do? -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    We just had a wire from Cuba, Mr. Kane -
				    (stops, embarrassed)

					    KANE
			    That's all right.  We have no secrets
			    from our readers.  Mr. Thatcher is
			    one of our most devoted readers, Mr.
			    Bernstein.  He knows what's wrong with
			    every issue since I've taken charge.
			    What's the cable?

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (reading)
			    The food is marvelous in Cuba the 
			    senoritas are beautiful stop I could
			    send you prose poems of palm trees and
			    sunrises and tropical colors blending in
			    far off landscapes but don't feel right
			    in spending your money for this stop
			    there's no war in Cuba regards Wheeler.

					    THATCHER
			    You see!  There hasn't been a true word -

					    KANE
			    I think we'll have to send our friend
			    Wheeler a cable, Mr. Bernstein.  Of
			    course, we'll have to make it shorter
			    than his, because he's working on an
			    expense account and we're not.  Let
			    me see -
				    (snaps his fingers)
			    Mike!

					    MIKE
				    (a fairly tough customer
				     prepares to take dictation,
			 	     his mouth still full of food)
			    Go ahead, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    Dear Wheeler -
				    (pauses a moment)
			    You provide the prose poems - I'll
			    provide the war.

Laughter from the boys and girls at the table.

				  	    BERNSTEIN
			    That's fine, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    I rather like it myself.  Send it
			    right away.

					    MIKE
			    Right away.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Right away.

Mike and Bernstein leave.  Kane looks up, grinning at Thatcher, who is bursting with indignation but controls himself.  After a moment of indecision, he decides to make one last try.

					    THATCHER
			    I came to see you, Charles, about
			    your - about the Enquirer's campaign
			    against the Metropolitan Transfer
			    Company.

					    KANE
			    Won't you step into my office, Mr.	
			    Thatcher?

They cross the City Room together.

					    THATCHER
			    I think I should remind you, Charles,
			    of a fact you seem to have forgotten.
			    You are yourself one of the largest
			    individual stockholders.

INT. KANE'S OFFICE - DAY - 1898

Kane holds the door open for Thatcher.  They come in together.

					    KANE
			    Mr. Thatcher, isn't everything I've
			    been saying in the Enquirer about
			    the traction trust absolutely true?

					    THATCHER
				    (angrily)
			    They're all part of your general 	
			    attack - your senseless attack -
			    on everything and everybody who's
			    got more than ten cents in his pocket.
			    They're -		    

					    KANE
			    The trouble is, Mr. Thatcher, you
			    don't realize you're talking to
			    two people.

Kane moves around behind his desk.  Thatcher doesn't understand, looks at him.

				 	    KANE
			    As Charles Foster Kane, who has 			    eighty-two thousand, six hundred 
			    and thirty-one shares of Metropolitan
			    Transfer - you see, I do have a rough
			    idea of my holdings - I sympathize
			    with you.  Charles Foster Kane is a	
			    dangerous scoundrel, his paper should
			    be run out of town and a committee
			    should be formed to boycott him.  You
			    may, if you can form such a committee,
			    put me down for a contribution of one
			    thousand dollars.

					    THATCHER
				    (angrily)
			    Charles, my time is too valuable for
			    me -

					    KANE
			    On the other hand -
				    (his manner becomes serious)
			    I am the publisher of the Enquirer.
			    As such, it is my duty - I'll let you
			    in on a little secret, it is also my
			    pleasure - to see to it that decent,
			    hard-working people of this city are
			    not robbed blind by a group of money-
			    mad pirates because, God help them,
			    they have no one to look after their
			    interests!  I'll let you in on another
			    little secret, Mr. Thatcher.  I think
			    I'm the man to do it.  You see, I have
			    money and property -

Thatcher doesn't understand him.

					    KANE
			    If I don't defend the interests of
			    the underprivileged, somebody else
			    will - maybe somebody without any
			    money or any property and that would
			    be too bad.

Thatcher glares at him, unable to answer.  Kane starts to dance.

				  	    KANE
			    Do you know how to tap, Mr. Thatcher?
			    You ought to learn -
				    (humming quietly, he 
				     continues to dance)

Thatcher puts on his hat.

					    THATCHER
			    I happened to see your consolidated
			    statement yesterday, Charles.  Could
			    I not suggest to you that it is 
			    unwise for you to continue this 
			    philanthropic enterprise -
				    (sneeringly)
			    this Enquirer - that is costing you
			    one million dollars a year?

					    KANE
			    You're right.  We did lose a million
			    dollars last year.

Thatcher thinks maybe the point has registered.

					    KANE
			    We expect to lost a million next 
			    year, too.  You know, Mr. Thatcher -
				    (starts tapping quietly)
			    at the rate of a million a year - 
			    we'll have to close this place in
			    sixty years.

DISSOLVE:

INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY

Thompson - at the desk.  With a gesture of annoyance, he is closing the manuscript.

Camera arcs quickly around from over his shoulder to hold on door behind him, missing his face as he rises and turns to confront Miss Anderson, who has come into the room to shoo him out.  Very prominent on this wall is an over-sized oil painting of Thatcher in the best Union League Club renaissance style.

					    MISS ANDERSON
			    You have enjoyed a very rare 
			    privilege, young man.  Did you find
			    what you were looking for?

					    THOMPSON
			    No.  Tell me something, Miss Anderson.
			    You're not Rosebud, are you?

					    MISS ANDERSON
			    What?

					    THOMPSON
			    I didn't think you were.  Well, thanks
			    for the use of the hall.

He puts his hat on his head and starts out, lighting a cigarette as he goes.  Miss Anderson, scandalized, watches him.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - ENQUIRER SKYSCRAPER - DAY - 1940

Closeup of a still of Kane, aged about sixty-five.  Camera pulls back, showing it is a framed photograph on the wall.  Over the picture are crossed American flags.  Under it sits Bernstein, back of his desk.  Bernstein, always an undersized Jew, now seems even smaller than in his youth.  He is bald as an egg, spry, with remarkably intense eyes.  As camera continues to travel back, the back of Thompson's head and his shoulders come into the picture.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (wryly)
			    Who's a busy man?  Me?  I'm Chairman
			    of the Board.  I got nothing but time
			    ...  What do you want to know?

					    THOMPSON
				    (still explaining)
			    Well, Mr. Bernstein, you were with Mr.
			    Kane from the very beginning -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    From before the beginning, young fellow.
			    And now it's after the end.  
				    (turns to Thompson)
			    Anything you want to know about him -
			    about the paper -

					    THOMPSON
			    -  We thought maybe, if we can find out
			    what he meant by that last word - as he
			    was dying -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    That Rosebud?  Maybe some girl?  There
			    were a lot of them back in the early
			    days, and -

					    THOMPSON
			    Not some girl he knew casually and 
			    then remembered after fifty years,
			    on his death bed -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    You're pretty young, Mr. -
				    (remembers the name)
			    Mr. Thompson.  A fellow will remember
			    things you wouldn't think he'd remember.
			    You take me.  One day, back in 1896, I
			    was crossing over to Jersey on a ferry
			    and as we pulled out, there was another
			    ferry pulling in -
				    (slowly)
			    - and on it, there was a girl waiting
			    to get off.  A white dress she had on
			    - and she was carrying a white pastrol
			    - and I only saw her for one second and
			    she didn't see me at all - but I'll bet
			    a month hasn't gone by since that I 
			    haven't thought of that girl.
				    (triumphantly)
			    See what I mean?
				    (smiles)
			    Well, so what are you doing about this
			    "Rosebud," Mr. Thompson.

					    THOMPSON
			    I'm calling on people who knew Mr. Kane.
			    I'm calling on you.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Who else you been to see?

					    THOMPSON
			    Well, I went down to Atlantic City -
		
					    BERNSTEIN
			    Susie?  I called her myself the day
			    after he died.  I thought maybe
			    somebody ought to...
				    (sadly)
			    She couldn't even come to the 'phone.

					    THOMPSON
			    You know why?  She was so -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Sure, sure.

					    THOMPSON
			    I'm going back there.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Who else did you see?

					    THOMPSON
			    Nobody else, but I've been through
			    that stuff of Walter Thatcher's.
			    That journal of his -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Thatcher!  That man was the biggest
			    darn fool I ever met -

					    THOMPSON
			    He made an awful lot of money.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    It's not trick to make an awful lot
			    of money if all you want is to make
			    a lot of money.
				    (his eyes get reflective)
			    Thatcher!

Bernstein looks out of the window and keeps on looking, seeming to see something as he talks.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    He never knew there was anything in 
			    the world but money.  That kind of
			    fellow you can fool every day in the
			    week - and twice on Sundays!
				    (reflectively)
			    The time he came to Rome for Mr. Kane's
			    twenty-fifth birthday...  You know,
			    when Mr. Kane got control of his own
			    money...  Such a fool like Thatcher -
			    I tell you, nobody's business!

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY - 1940

Bernstein speaking to Thompson.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    He knew what he wanted, Mr. Kane did,
			    and he got it!  Thatcher never did
			    figure him out.  He was hard to figure
			    sometimes, even for me.  Mr. Kane was
			    a genius like he said.  He had that 
			    funny sense of humor.  Sometimes even
			    I didn't get the joke.  Like that night
			    the opera house of his opened in 
			    Chicago...  You know, the opera house 
			    he built for Susie, she should be an
			    opera singer...
				    (indicates with a little wave
				     of his hand what he thinks of
				     that; sighing)
			    That was years later, of course - 1914
			    it was.  Mrs. Kane took the leading part
			    in the opera, and she was terrible.  But
			    nobody had the nerve to say so - not even
			    the critics.  Mr. Kane was a big man in
			    those days.  But this one fellow, this
			    friend of his, Branford Leland -

He leaves the sentence up in the air, as we

DISSOLVE:

INT. CITY ROOM - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914

It is late.  The room is almost empty.  Nobody is at work at the desks.  Bernstein, fifty, is waiting anxiously with a little group of Kane's hirelings, most of them in evening dress with overcoats and hats.  Eveybody is tense and expectant.

					    CITY EDITOR
				    (turns to a young hireling;
				     quietly)
			    What about Branford Leland?  Has he
			    got in his copy?

					    HIRELING
			    Not yet.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Go in and ask him to hurry.

				  	    CITY EDITOR
			    Well, why don't you, Mr. Bernstein?  
			    You know Mr. Leland.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (looks at him for a moment;
				     then slowly)
			    I might make him nervous.

					    CITY EDITOR
				    (after a pause)
			    You and Leland and Mr. Kane - you were
			    great friends back in the old days, I
			    understand.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (with a smile)
			    That's right.  They called us the 
			    "Three Musketeers."

Somebody behind Bernstein has trouble concealing his laughter.  The City Editor speaks quickly to cover the situation.

					    CITY EDITOR
			    He's a great guy - Leland.
				    (another little pause)
			    Why'd he ever leave New York?

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (he isn't saying)
			    That's a long story.

					    ANOTHER HIRELING
				    (a tactless one)
			    Wasn't there some sort of quarrel between -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    	    (quickly)
			    I had nothing to do with it.
				    (then, somberly)
			    It was Leland and Mr. Kane, and you 
			    couldn't call it a quarrel exactly.
			    Better we should forget such things -
				    (turning to City Editor)
			    Leland is writing it up from the dramatic
			    angle?

					    CITY EDITOR
			    Yes.  I thought it was a good idea.
			    We've covered it from the news end,
			    of course.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    And the social.  How about the music
			    notice?  You got that in?

					    CITY EDITOR
			    Oh, yes, it's already made up.  Our
			    Mr. Mervin wrote a small review.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Enthusiastic?

					    CITY EDITOR
			    Yes, very!
				    (quietly)
			    Naturally.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Well, well - isn't that nice?

					    KANE'S VOICE
			    Mr. Bernstein -

Bernstein turns.

Medium long shot of Kane, now forty-nine, already quite stout.  He is in white tie, wearing his overcoat and carrying a folded opera hat.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Hello, Mr. Kane.

The Hirelings rush, with Bernstein, to Kane's side.  Widespread, half-suppressed sensation.

				  	    CITY EDITOR
			    Mr. Kane, this is a surprise!
		
					    KANE
			    We've got a nice plant here.

Everybody falls silent.  There isn't anything to say.

					    KANE
			    Was the show covered by every department?

					    CITY EDITOR
			    Exactly according to your instructions,
			    Mr. Kane.  We've got two spreads of
			    pictures.

					    KANE
				    (very, very casually)
			    And the notice?

				  	    CITY EDITOR
			    Yes - Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
				    (quietly)
			    Is it good?

				 	    CITY EDITOR
			    Yes, Mr. kane.

Kane looks at him for a minute.

					    CITY EDITOR
			    But there's another one still to come
			    - the dramatic notice.

					    KANE
				    (sharply)
			    It isn't finished?

					    CITY EDITOR
			    No, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    That's Leland, isn't it?

				   	    CITY EDITOR
			    Yes, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    Has he said when he'll finish?

					    CITY EDITOR
			    We haven't heard from him.

					    KANE
			    He used to work fast - didn't he,
			    Mr. Bernstein?

					    BERNSTEIN
			    He sure did, Mr. Kane. 
		
					    KANE
			    Where is he?

				  	    ANOTHER HIRELING
			    Right in there, Mr. Kane.

The Hireling indicates the closed glass door of a little office at the other end of the City Room.  Kane takes it in.

				  	    BERNSTEIN
				    (helpless, but very concerned)
			    Mr. Kane -

					    KANE
			    That's all right, Mr. Bernstein.

Kane crosses the length of the long City Room to the glass door indicated before by the Hireling.  The City Editor looks at Bernstein.  Kane opens the door and goes into the office, closing the door behind him.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Leland and Mr. Kane - they haven't
			    spoke together for ten years.
				    (long pause; finally)
			    Excuse me.
				    (starts toward the door)

INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914

Bernstein comes in.  An empty bottle is standing on Leland's desk.  He has fallen over his typewriter, his face on the keys.  A sheet of paper is in the machine.  A paragraph has been typed.  Kane is standing at the other side of the desk looking down on him.  This is the first time we see murder in Kane's face.  Bernstein looks at Kane, then crosses to Leland.  He shakes him.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Hey, Brad!  Brad!
				    (he straightens, looks at
				     Kane; pause)
			    He ain't been drinking before, Mr. Kane.
			    Never.  We would have heard.

					    KANE
			     	    (finally; after a pause)
			    What does it say there?

Bernstein stares at him.

				    	    KANE
			    What's he written?

Bernstein looks over nearsightedly, painfully reading the paragraph written on the page.  
		
					    BERNSTEIN
			    	    (reading)
			    "Miss Susan Alexander, a pretty but
			    hopelessly incompetent amateur -
				    (he waits for a minute to
				     catch his breath; he doesn't
				     like it)
			    - last night opened the new Chicago
			    Opera House in a performance of - of
			    -"
				    (looks up miserably)
			    I can't pronounce that name, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    Thais.

Bernstein looks at Kane for a moment, then looks back, tortured.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (reading again)
			    "Her singing, happily, is no concern
			    of this department.  Of her acting,
			    it is absolutely impossible to..."
				    (he continues to stare at
				     the page)
			
					    KANE
				    (after a short silence)
			    Go on!

					    BERNSTEIN
			    	    (without looking up)
			    That's all there is.

Kane snatches the paper from the roller and reads it for himself.  Slowly, a queer look comes over his face.  Then he speaks, very quietly.

				 	    KANE
			    Of her acting, it is absolutely
			    impossible to say anything except
			    that it represents a new low...
				    (then sharply)
			    Have you got that, Mr. Bernstein?
			    In the opinion of this reviewer -

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (miserably)
			    I didn't see that.

					    KANE
			    It isn't here, Mr. Bernstein.  I'm
			    dictating it.

				  	    BERNSTEIN
				    (looks at him)
			    I can't take shorthand.

					    KANE
			    Get me a typewriter.  I'll finish
			    the notice.

Bernstein retreats from the room.

QUICK DISSOLVE OUT:

QUICK DISSOLVE IN:

INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914

Long shot of Kane in his shirt sleeves, illuminated by a desk light, typing furiously.  As the camera starts to pull even farther away from this, and as Bernstein - as narrator - begins to speak -

QUICK DISSOLVE:

INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY - 1940

Bernstein speaking to Thompson.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    He finished it.  He wrote the worst
			    notice I ever read about the girl he
			    loved.  We ran it in every paper.

					    THOMPSON
				    (after a pause)
			    I guess Mr. Kane didn't think so well
			    of Susie's art anyway.
				
					    BERNSTEIN
			    	    (looks at him very soberly)
			    He thought she was great, Mr. Thompson.
			    He really believed that.  He put all
			    his ambition on that girl.  After she
			    came along, he never really cared for
			    himself like he used to.  Oh, I don't
			    blame Susie -

					    THOMPSON
			    Well, then, how could he write that
			    roast?  The notices in the Kane papers
			    were always very kind to her.

				 	    BERNSTEIN
			    Oh, yes.  He saw to that.  I tell you,
			    Mr. Thompson, he was a hard man to
			    figure out.  He had that funny sense
			    of humor.  And then, too, maybe he
			    thought by finishing that piece he 
			    could show Leland he was an honest man.
			    You see, Leland didn't think so.  I
			    guess he showed him all right.  He's a
			    nice fellow, but he's a dreamer.  They
			    were always together in those early days
			    when we just started the Enquirer.

On these last words, we

DISSOLVE:

INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1891

The front half of the second floor constitutes one large City Room.  Despite the brilliant sunshine outside, very little of it is actually getting into the room because the windows are small and narrow.  There are about a dozen tables and desks, of the old-fashioned type, not flat, available for reporters.  Two tables, on a raised platform at the end of the room, obviously serve the city room executives.  To the left of the platform is an open door which leads into the Sanctrum.

As Kane and Leland enter the room, an elderly, stout gent on the raised platform, strikes a bell and the other eight occupants of the room - all men - rise and face the new arrivals.  Carter, the elderly gent, in formal clothes, rises and starts toward them.

					    CARTER
			    Welcome, Mr. Kane, to the "Enquirer."
			    I am Herbert Carter.

					    KANE
			    Thank you, Mr Carter.  This is Mr.
			    Leland.

					    CARTER
				    (bowing)
			    How do you do, Mr. Leland?

				  	    KANE
				    (pointing to the standing
				     reporters)	
			    Are they standing for me?

					    CARTER
			    I thought it would be a nice gesture
			    - the new publisher -

					    KANE
				    (grinning)
			    Ask them to sit down.

					    CARTER
			    You may resume your work, gentlemen.
				    (to Kane)
			    I didn't know your plans and so I was
			    unable to make any preparations.

					    KANE
			    I don't my plans myself.

They are following Carter to his raised platform.

				 	    KANE
			    As a matter of fact, I haven't got
			    any.  Except to get out a newspaper.

There is a terrific crash at the doorway.  They all turn to see Bernstein sprawled at the entrance.  A roll of bedding, a suitcase, and two framed pictures were too much for him.

				  	    KANE
			    Oh, Mr. Bernstein!

Bernstein looks up.

					    KANE
			    If you would come here a moment,
			    please, Mr. Bernstein?

Bernstein rises and comes over, tidying himself as he comes.

					    KANE
			    Mr. Carter, this is Mr. Bernstein.
			    Mr. Bernstein is my general manager.

					    CARTER
				    (frigidly)
			    How do you do, Mr. Bernstein?

					    KANE
			    You've got a private office here,
			    haven't you?

The delivery wagon driver has now appeared in the entrance with parts of the bedstead and other furniture.  He is looking about, a bit bewildered.

				  	    CARTER
				    (indicating open door to
				     left of platform)
			    My little sanctum is at your disposal.
			    But I don't think I understand -

					    KANE
			    I'm going to live right here.
				    (reflectively)
			    As long as I have to.

					    CARTER
			    But a morning newspaper, Mr. Kane.
			    After all, we're practically closed
			    twelve hours a day - except for the
			    business offices -

					    KANE
			    That's one of the things I think 
			    must be changed, Mr. Carter.  The
			    news goes on for twenty-four hours
			    a day.

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S OFFICE - LATE DAY - 1891

Kane, in his shirt sleeves, at a roll-top desk in the Sanctum, is working feverishly on copy and eating a very sizeable meal at the same time.  Carter, still formally coated, is seated alongside him.  Leland, seated in a corner, is looking on, detached, amused.  The furniture has been pushed around and Kane's effects are somewhat in place.  On a corner of the desk, Bernstein is writing down figures.  No one pays any attention to him.

					    KANE
			    I'm not criticizing, Mr. Carter,
			    but here's what I mean.  There's a
			    front page story in the "Chronicle,"
				    (points to it)
			    and a picture - of a woman in Brooklyn
			    who is missing.  Probably murdered.
				    (looks to make sure of the name)
			    A Mrs. Harry Silverstone.  Why didn't
			    the "Enquirer" have that this morning?

					    CARTER
				    (stiffly)
			    Because we're running a newspaper, Mr.
			    Kane, not a scandal sheet.

Kane has finished eating.  He pushes away his plates.

					    KANE
			    I'm still hungry, Brad.  Let's go 
			    to Rector's and get something decent.
				    (pointing to the "Chronicle"
				     before him)
			    The "Chronicle" has a two-column
			    headline, Mr. Carter.  Why haven't we?

					    CARTER
			    There is no news big enough.

					    KANE
			    If the headline is big enough, it
			    makes the new big enough.  The murder
			    of Mrs. Harry Silverstone -

					    CARTER
				    (hotly)
			    As a matter of fact, we sent a man
			    to the Silverstone home yesterday
			    afternoon.
				    (triumphantly)
			    Our man even arrived before the
			    "Chronicle" reporter.  And there's no
			    proof that the woman was murdered -
			    or even that she's dead.

				 	    KANE
				    (smiling a bit)
			    The "Chronicle" doesn't say she's 
			    murdered, Mr. Carter.  It says the 
		          neighbors are getting suspicious.

					    CARTER
			    	    (stiffly)
			    It's not our function to report the
			    gossip of housewives.  If we were
			    interested in that kind of thing,
			    Mr. Kane, we could fill the paper
			    twice over daily -

					    KANE
				    (gently)
			    That's the kind of thing we are 
			    going to be interested in from now
			    on, Mr. Carter.  Right now, I wish
			    you'd send your best man up to see 
			    Mr. Silverstone.  Have him tell Mr.
			    Silverstone if he doesn't produce his
			    wife at once, the "Enquirer" will 
			    have him arrested.
				    (he gets an idea)
			    Have him tell Mr. Silverstone he's a
			    detective from the Central Office.
			    If Mr. Silverstone asks to see his 
			    badge, your man is to get indignant
			    and call Mr. Silverstone an anarchist.
			    Loudly, so that the neighbors can hear.

					    CARTER
			    Really, Mr. Kane, I can't see the
			    function of a respectable newspaper -

Kane isn't listening to him.

					    KANE
			    Oh, Mr. Bernstein!

Bernstein looks up from his figures.

					    KANE
			    I've just made a shocking discovery.
			    The "Enquirer" is without a telephone.
			    Have two installed at once!

					    BERNSTEIN
			    I ordered six already this morning!
			    Got a discount!

Kane looks at Leland with a fond nod of his head at Bernstein.  Leland grins back.  Mr. Carter, meantime, has risen stiffly.

					    CARTER
			    But, Mr. Kane -

					    KANE
			    That'll be all today, Mr. Carter.
			    You've been most understanding.  
			    Good day, Mr. Carter!

Carter, with a look that runs just short of apoplexy, leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

				  	    LELAND
			    Poor Mr. Carter!
					    
					    KANE
				    (shakes his head)
			    What makes those fellows think that
			    a newspaper is something rigid, 
			    something inflexible, that people
			    are supposed to pay two cents for -

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (without looking up)
			    Three cents.

					    KANE
				    (calmly)
			    Two cents.

Bernstein lifts his head and looks at Kane.  Kane gazes back at him.

				  	    BERNSTEIN
				    (tapping on the paper)
			    This is all figured at three cents
			    a copy.

					    KANE
			    Re-figure it, Mr. Bernstein, at
			    two cents.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (sighs and puts papers 
				     in his pocket)
			    All right, but I'll keep these figures,
			    too, just in case.

					    KANE
			    Ready for dinner, Brad?

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Mr. Leland, if Mr. Kane, he should
			    decide to drop the price to one cent,
			    or maybe even he should make up his
			    mind to give the paper away with a
			    half-pound of tea - you'll just hold
			    him until I get back, won't you?

					    LELAND
			    I'm not guaranteeing a thing, Mr. 
			    Bernstein.  You people work too fast
			    for me!  Talk about new brooms!

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Who said anything about brooms?

					    KANE
			    It's a saying, Mr. Bernstein.  A new
			    broom sweeps clean.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Oh!

DISSOLVE:

INT.PRIMITIVE COMPOSING AND PRESSROOM - NEW YORK ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1891

The ground floor witht he windows on the street - of the "Enquirer."  It is almost midnight by an old-fashioned clock on the wall.  Grouped around a large table, on which are several locked forms of type, very old-fashioned of course, but true to the period - are Kane and Leland in elegant evening clothes, Bernstein, unchanged from the afternoon, and Smathers, the composing room foreman, nervous and harassed.

					    SMATHERS
			    But it's impossible, Mr. Kane.  We
			    can't remake these pages.

					    KANE
			    These pages aren't made up as I want
			    them, Mr. Smathers.  We go to press
			    in five minutes.

				  	    CARTER
				    (about to crack up)
			    The "Enquirer" has an old and honored
			    tradition, Mr. Kane...  The "Enquirer"
			    is not in competition with those other
			    rags.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    We should be publishing such rags,
			    that's all I wish.  Why, the "Enquirer" -
			    I wouldn't wrap up the liver for the
			    cat in the "Enquirer" -

					    CARTER
				    (enraged)
			    Mr. Kane, I must ask you to see to
			    it that this - this person learns to
			    control his tongue.

Kane looks up.

				   	    CARTER
			    I've been a newspaperman my whole life
			    and I don't intend -
				    (he starts to sputter)
			    - if it's your intention that I should
			    continue to be harassed by this - this -
			    	    (he's really sore)
			    I warn you, Mr. Kane, it would go against
			    my grain to desert you when you need me
			    so badly - but I would feel obliged to
			    ask that my resignation be accepted.

					    KANE
			    It is accepted, Mr. Carter, with 
			    assurances of my deepest regard.

					    CARTER
			    But Mr. Kane, I meant -

Kane turns his back on him, speaks again to the composing room foreman.

					    KANE
				    (quietly)
			    Let's remake these pages, Mr. Smathers.	
			    We'll have to publish a half hour late,
			    that's all.

					    SMATHERS
				    (as though Kane were 
				     talking Greek)
			    We can't remake them, Mr. Kane.  We
			    go to press in five minutes.

Kane sighs, unperturbed, as he reaches out his hand and shoves the forms off the table onto the floor, where they scatter into hundreds of bits.

					    KANE
			    You can remake them now, can't you,
			    Mr. Smathers?

Smather's mouth opens wider and wider.  Bradford and Bernstein are grinning.

					    KANE
			    After the types 've been reset and
			    the pages have been remade according
			    to the way I told you before, Mr.
			    Smathers, kindly have proofs pulled
			    and bring them to me.  Then, if I 
			    can't find any way to improve them
			    again -
				    (almost as if reluctantly)
			    - I suppose we'll have to go to press.

He starts out of the room, followed by Leland.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (to Smathers)
			    In case you don't understand, Mr.
			    Smathers - he's a new broom.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

EXT. NEW YORK STREET - VERY EARLY DAWN - 1891

The picture is mainly occupied by a large building, on the roof of which the lights spell out the word "Enquirer" against the sunrise.  We do not see the street or the first few stories of this building, the windows of which would be certainly illuminated.  What we do see is the floor on which is located the City Room.  Over this scene, newboys are heard selling the Chronicle, their voices growing in volume.

As the dissolve complete itself, camera moves toward the one lighted window - the window of the Sanctrum.

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S OFFICE - VERY EARLY DAWN - 1891

The newsboys are still heard from the street below - fainter but very insistent.  

Kane's office is gas-lit, of course, as is the rest of the Enquirer building.

Kane, in his shirt sleeves, stands at the open window looking out.  The bed is already made up.  On it is seated Bernstein, smoking the end of a cigar.  Leland is in a chair.

					    NEWSBOYS' VOICES
			    CHRONICLE!  CHRONICLE!  H'YA - THE 
			    CHRONICLE - GET YA!  CHRONICLE!

Kane, taking a deep breath of the morning air, closes the window and turns to the others.  The voices of the newsboys, naturally, are very much fainter after this.

					    LELAND
			    We'll be on the street soon, Charlie
			    - another ten minutes.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (looking at his watch)
			    It's three hours and fifty minutes
			    late - but we did it -

Leland rises from the chair, stretching painfully.

					    KANE
			    Tired?

					    LELAND
			    It's been a tough day.

					    KANE
			    A wasted day.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (looking up)
			    Wasted?
			
					    LELAND
				    (incredulously)
			    Charlie?!

				  	    BERNSTEIN
			    You just made the paper over four 
			    times today, Mr. Kane.  That's all -

					    KANE
			    I've changed the front page a little,
			    Mr. Bernstein.  That's not enough -
			    There's something I've got to get into
			    this paper besides pictures and print
			    -  I've got to make the "New York
			    Enquirer" as important to New York as
			    the gas in that light.

					    LELAND
				    (quietly)
			    What're you going to do, Charlie?

Kane looks at him for a minute with a queer smile of happy concentration.

					    KANE
			    My Declaration of Principles -
				    (he says it with quotes
				     around it)
			    Don't smile, Brad -
				    (getting the idea)
			    Take dictation, Mr. Bernstein -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    I can't take shorthand, Mr. Kane -

					    KANE
			    I'll write it myself.

Kane grabs a piece of rough paper and a grease crayon.  Sitting down on the bed next to Bernstein, he starts to write.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (looking over his shoulder)
			    You don't wanta make any promises,
			    Mr. Kane, you don't wanta keep.

					    KANE
				    (as he writes)
			    These'll be kept.
				    (stops for a minute and
				     reads what he has written;
				     reading)
			    I'll provide the people of this city
			    with a daily paper that will tell
			    all the news honestly.
				    (starts to write again;
				     reading as he writes)
			    I will also provide them -

					    LELAND
			    That's the second sentence you've
			    started with "I" -

					    KANE
				    (looking up)
			    People are going to know who's 
			    responsible.  And they're going to
			    get the news - the true news - 
			    quickly and simply and entertainingly.
				    (he speaks with real
				     conviction)
			    And no special interests will be
			    allowed to interfere with the truth
			    of that news.

He looks at Leland for a minute and goes back to his writing, reading as he writes.

Bernstein has risen and crossed to one side of Kane.  They both stand looking out.  Leland joins him on the other side.  Their three heads are silhouetted against the sky.  Leland's head is seen to turn slightly as he looks into Kane's face - camera very close on this - Kane turns to him and we know their eyes have met, although their faces are almost in sillhouette.  Bernstein is still smoking a cigar.

DISSOLVE:

Front page of the "Enquirer" shows big boxed editorial with heading:

MY PRINCIPLES - A DECLARATION
BY CHARLES FOSTER KANE

Camera continues pulling back and shows newspaper to be on the top of a pile of newspapers.  As we draw further back, we see four piles, and as camera contines to pull back, we see six piles and go on back until we see a big field of "Enquirers" - piles of "Enquirers" - all 26,000 copies ready for distribution.

A wagon with a huge sign on its side reading

"ENQUIRER - CIRCULATION 26,000"

passes through foreground, and we wipe to:

A pile of "Enquirers" for sale on a broken down wooden box on a street corner, obviously a poor district.  A couple of coins fall on the pile.

The stoop of a period door with old-fashioned enamel milk can and a bag of rolls.  Across the sidewalk before this, moves the shadow of an old-fashioned bicycle with an enormous front wheel.  A copy of the "Enquirer" is tossed on the stoop.

A breakfast table - beautiful linen and beautiful silver - everything very expensive, gleaming in the sunshine.  Into a silver newspaper rack there is slipped a copy of the "Enquirer".  Here, as before, the boxed editorial reading MY PRINCIPLES - A DECLARATION BY CHARLES FOSTER KANE, is very prominent on the front page.

The wooden floor of a railroad station, flashing light and dark as a train behind the camera rushes by.  On the floor, there is tossed a bound bundle of the "New York Enquirer" - the Declaration of Principles still prominent.

Rural Delivery - a copy of the "Enquirer"s being put into bins, showing state distribution.

The railroad platform again.  We stay here for four images.  On each image, the speed of the train is faster and the piles of the "Enquirer" are larger.  On the first image, we move in to hold on the words "CIRCULATION - 31,000."  We are this close for the next pile which reads 40,000; the next one which reads 55,000, and the last which is 62,000.  In each instance, the bundles of newspapers are thicker and the speed of the moving train behind the camera is increased.

The entire montage above indicated is accompanied by a descriptive complement of sound - the traffic noises of New York in the 1890's; wheels on cobblestones and horses' hooves; bicycle bells; the mooning of cattle and the crowing of roosters (in the RFD shot), and in all cases where the railroad platform is used - the mounting sound of the railroad train.

The last figure "62,000" opposite the word "CIRCULATION" on the "Enquirer" masthead changes to:

EXT. STREET AND CHRONICLE BUIDING - DAY - 1895

Angle up to wall of building - a painter on a cradle is putting the last zero to the figure "62,000" on an enormous sign advertising the "Enquirer."  It reads:

THE ENQUIRER
THE PEOPLE'S NEWSPAPER
CIRCULATION 62,000

Camera travels down side of building - takes in another building on which there is a sign which reads:

READ THE ENQUIRER
AMERICA'S FINEST
CIRCULATION 62,000

Camera continues to travel down to sidewalk in front of the Chronicle office.  The Chronicle office has a plateglass window in which is reflected traffic moving up and down the street, also the figures of Kane, Leland and Bernstein, who are munching peanuts.

Inside the window, almost filling it, is a large photograph of the "Chronicle" staff, with Reilly prominently seated in the center.  A sign over the photo reads: EDITORIAL AND EXECUTIVE STAFF OF THE NEW YORK CHRONICLE.  A sign beneath it reads: GREATEST NEWSPAPER STAFF IN THE WORLD.  The sign also includes the "Chronicle" circulation figure.  There are nine men in the photo.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    	    (looking up at the sign -
				     happily)
			    Sixty-two thousand -

					    LELAND
			    That looks pretty nice.

					    KANE
				    (indicating the Chronicle
				     Building)
			    Let's hope they like it there.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    From the Chronicle Building that sign
			    is the biggest thing you can see -
			    every floor guaranteed - let's hope
			    it bothers them - it cost us enough.

					    KANE
				    (pointing to the sign over
				     the photograph in the 
				     window)
			    Look at that.

					    LELAND
			    The "Chronicle" is a good newspaper.

					    KANE
			    It's a good idea for a newspaper.
				    (reading the figures)
			    Four hundred sixy thousand.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Say, with them fellows -
				    (referring to the photo)
			    - it's no trick to get circulation.

					    KANE
			    You're right, Mr. Bernstein.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (sighs)
			    You know how long it took the "Chronicle"
			    to get that staff together?  Twenty years.

				    	    KANE
			    I know.

Kane, smiling, lights a cigarette, at the same time looking into the window.  Camera moves in to hold on the photograph of nine men, still holding the reflection of Kane's smiling face.

DISSOLVE:

INT. CITY ROOM - THE ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1895

Nine men, arrayed as in the photograph, but with Kane beaming in the center of the first row.  The men, variously with mustaches, beards, bald heads, etc. are easily identified as being the same men, Reilly prominent amongst them.

As camera pulls back, it is revealed that they are being photographed - by an old-type professional photographer, big box, black hood and all - in a corner of the room.  It is 1:30 at night.  Desks, etc. have been pushed against the wall.  Running down the center of the room is a long banquet table, at which twenty diners have finished their meals.  The eleven remaining at their seats - these include Bernstein and Leland - are amusedly watching the photographic ceremonies.

					    PHOTOGRAPHER
			    That's all.  Thank you.

The photographic subjects rise.

					    KANE
				    (a sudden thought)
			    Make up an extra copy and mail it
			    to the "Chronicle."

Chuckling and beaming, he makes his way to his place at the head of the table.  The others have already sat down.  Kane gets his guests' attention by rapping on the table with a knife.

					    KANE
			    Gentlemen of the "Enquirer"!  This
			    has, I think, been a fitting welcome
			    to those distinguished journalists -
				    (indicates the eight men)
			    Mr. Reilly in particular - who are
			    the latest additions to our ranks.
			    It will make them happy to learn that
			    the "Enquirer's" circulation this 
			    morning passed the two hundred thousand
			    mark.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Two hundred and one thousand, six
			    hundred and forty-seven.

General applause.

					    KANE
			    All of you - new and old -  You're
			    all getting the best salaries in
			    town.  Not one of you has been hired
			    because of his loyalty.  It's your
			    talent I'm interested in.  That talent
			    that's going to make the "Enquirer" 
			    the kind of paper I want - the best
			    newspaper in the world!

Applause.

					    KANE
			    However, I think you'll agree we've
			    heard enough about newspapers and
			    the newspaper business for one night.
			    There are other subjects in the world.

He puts his two fingers in his mouth and lets out a shrill whistle.  This is a signal.  A band strikes up a lively ditty of the period and enters in advance a regiment of very magnificent maidens, as daringly arrayed as possible in the chorus costumes of the day.  The rest of this episode will be planned and staged later.  Its essence is that Kane is just a healthy and happy young man having a wonderful time.

As some of the girls are detached from the line and made into partners for individual dancing -

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

The "Enquirer" sign:

THE ENQUIRER
AMERICA'S FINEST
CIRCULATION
274,321

Dissolve just completes itself - the image of Kane dancing with a girl on each arm just disappears as camera pans down off the Temple Bldg. in the same action as the previous street scene.  There is a new sign on the side of the building below.  It reads:

READ THE ENQUIRER
GREATEST STAFF IN THE WORLD

Camera continues panning as we

DISSOLVE:

A montage of various scenes, between the years 1891-1900. 

The scenes indicate the growth of the "Enquirer" under the impulse of Kane's personal drive.  Kane is shown, thus, at various activities:

Move down from the sign:

READ THE ENQUIRER
GREATEST STAFF IN THE WORLD

to street in front of saloon with parade passing (boys going off to the Spanish-American War)-  A torchlight parade with the torches reflected in the glass window of the saloon - the sound of brass band playing "It's a Hot Time."  In the window of the saloon is a large sign or poster

"REMEMBER THE MAINE"

INSERT:  Remington drawing of American boys, similar to the parade above, in which "Our Boys" in the expeditionary hats are seen marching off to war.

Back of observation car.  Shot of Kane congratulating Teddy Roosevelt (the same shot as in the News Digest - without flickering).

The wooden floor of the railroad platform again - a bundle of "Enquirers" - this time an enormous bundle - is thrown down, and the moving shadows of the train behind the camera indicate that it is going like a bat out of hell.  A reproduction of Kane and Teddy shaking hands as above is very prominent in the frame and almost hogs the entire front page.  The headline indicates the surrender of Cuba.

INT. ENQUIRER OFFICE

Cartoon, highly dramatic and very involved as to content - lousy with captions, labels, and symbolic figures, the most gruesome and recognizable - "Capitalistic Greed."  This cartoon is almost finished and is on a drawing board before which stand Kane and the artist himself.  Kane is grinning over some suggestion he has made.

DISSOLVE:

The cartoon finished and reproduced on the editorial page of the "Enquirer" - in quite close, with an editorial and several faces of caps shown underneath.  The entire newspaper is crushed with an angry gesture and thrown down into an expensive-looking wastebasket (which is primarily for ticker tape) tape is pouring.

INT. ENQUIRER OFFICE

Cartoonist and Kane working on comic strip of "Johnny the Monk."

DISSOLVE:

Floor of room -  Two kids on floor, with newspaper spread out, looking at the same comic strip.

Kane's photographic gallery with photographers, stooges, and Kane himself in attendance on a very hot-looking item of the period.  A sob sister is interviewing this hot number and Kane is arranging her dress to look more seductive.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

The hot number reproduced and prominently displayed and covering almost half a page of the "Enquirer."  It is being read in a barber shop and is seen in an over-shoulder shot of the man who is reading it.  He is getting a shine, a manicure, and a haircut.  The sob-sister caption over the photograph reveals: "I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING, SAYS DANCER.  EVERYTHING WENT RED."  An oval photograph of the gun is included in the lay-out of the pretty lady with a headline which says: "DEATH GUN."

STREET - SHOT OF BUCKET BRIGADE

Shot of Kane, in evening clothes, in obvious position of danger, grabbing camera from photographer.  Before him rages a terrific tenement fire.

DISSOLVE:

INSERT:  Headline about inadequacy of present fire equipment.

DISSOLVE:

Final shot of a new horse-drawn steam engine roaring around a street corner (Stock).

DISSOLVE:

A black pattern of iron bars.  We are in a prison cell.  The door is opened and a condemned man, with priest, warden and the usual attendants, moves into foreground and starts up the hall past a group which includes phtographers, Kane's sob-sister, and Kane.  The photographers take pictures with a mighty flash of old-fashioned flash powder.  The condemned man in the foreground (in silhouette) is startled by this.

DISSOLVE:

A copy of the "Enquirer" spread out on a table.  A big lay-out of the execution story includes the killer as photographed by Kane's photographers, and nearby on the other page there is a large picture of the new steam fire engine (made from the stock shot) with a headline indicating that the "Enquirer" has won its campaign for better equipment.  A cup of coffee and a doughnut are on the newspaper, and a servant girl - over whose shoulder we see the paper - is stirring the coffee.

The Beaux Art Ball.  A number of elderly swells are jammed into a hallway.  Servants suddenly divest them of their furs, overcoats and wraps, revealing them to be in fancy dress costume, pink fleshings, etc., the effect to be very surprising, very lavish and very very ridiculous.  We see, among others, Mr. Thatcher himself (as Ben Hur) ribbon around, his bald head and all.  At the conclusion of this tableau, the image freezes and we pull back to show it reproduced on the society page of the "New York Enquirer."

Over the "Enquirer"'s pictorial version of the Beaux Art Ball is thrown a huge fish - then coffee grounds - altogether a pretty repulsive sight.

The whole thing is bundled up and thrown into a garbage can.

Extreme close-up of the words: "OCCUPATION - JOUNALIST."

Camera pulls back to show passport open to the photograph page which shows Kane, registering birth, race, and nationality.  Passport cover is closed, showing it to be an American passport.

EXT. CUNARD DOCKS - GANGPLANK AND DECK OF BOAT - NIGHT - 1900

As camera pulls back over shoulder of official, taking in Kane, Leland, and Bernstein, we see the bustle and noise of departing ocean liner.  Behind the principles can be seen an enormous plain sign which reads: "FIRST CLASS."  From offstage can be heard the steward's cry, indispensable in any Mercury production, the old familiar cry, "All Ashore That's Going Ashore!" - gongs, also blasts of the great whistle and all the rest of it.

					    THE OFFICIAL
			    There you are, Mr. Kane.  Everything
			    in order.

					    KANE
			    Thank you.

Kane and Leland and Bernstein start up the gangplank.

					    THE OFFICIAL
				    (calling)
			    Have a good rest, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    Thanks.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    But please, Mr. Kane, don't buy any
			    more paintings.  Nine Venuses already
			    we got, twenty-six Virgins - two 
			    whole warehouses full of stuff -

					    KANE
			    I promise not to bring any more 
			    Venuses and not to worry - and not 
			    to try to get in touch with any of 
			    the papers -

					    STEWARD'S VOICE
			    All ashore!

					    KANE
			    - and to forget about the new feature
			    sections - and not to try to think
			    up and ideas for comic sections.

					    STEWARD'S VOICE
			    All ashore that's going ashore!

Kane leaves Leland and Bernstein midway up gangplank, as he rushes up to it, calling back with a wave:

					    KANE
			    Goodbye, gents!
				    (at the top of the gangplank,
				     he turns and calls down)
			    Hey!

					    KANE
				    (calling down to them)
			    You don't expect me to keep any
			    of those promises, do you?

A band on deck strikes up "Auld Lang Syne."  Bernstein and Leland turn to each other.

				   	    BERNSTEIN
			    Do you, Mr. Leland?

					    LELAND
				    (smiling)
			    Certainly not.

They start down the gangplank together.

DISSOLVE:

LONG SHOT OF THE ENQUIRER BUILDING - NIGHT

The pattern of telegraph wires, dripping with rain, through which we see the same old building but now rendered fairly remarkable by tremendous outline sign in gold which reads "THE NEW YORK DAILY ENQUIRER."  A couple of lights show in the building.  We start toward the window where the lights show, as we -

DISSOLVE:

EXT. OUTSIDE THE WINDOW AT BERNSTEIN'S DESK - NIGHT

The light in the window in the former shot was showing behind the letter "E" of the Enquirer sign.  Now the letter "E" is even larger than the frame of the camera.  Rain drips disconsolately off the middle part of the figure.  We see through this and through the drizzle of the window to Bernstein's desk where he sits working under a blue shaded light.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

Same setup as before except that it is now late afternoon and late in the winter of the year.  The outline "E" is hung with icicles which are melting, dripping despairingly between us and Mr. Bernstein, still seated at his desk - still working.

DISSOLVE:

Same setup as before except that it is spring.  Instead of the sad sounds of dripping rain or dripping icicles, we hear the melancholy cry of a hurdy-gurdy in the street below.  It is spring and through the letter "E" we can see Bernstein working at his desk.  Pigeons are gathering on the "E" and on the sill.  Bernstein looks up and sees them.  He takes some crumbs from his little homemade lunch which is spread out on the desk before him, carries them to the windows and feeds the pigeons, looking moodily out on the prospect of spring on Park Row.  The birds eat the crumbs - the hurdy-gurdy continues to play.

DISSOLVE:

The same setup again, it is now summer.  The window was half-open before .. now it's open all the way and Bernstein has gone so far as to take off his coat.  His shirt and his celluloid collar are wringing wet.  Camera moves toward the window to tighten on Bernstein and to take in the City Room behind him, which is absolutely deserted.  It is clear that there is almost nothing more for Bernstein to do.  The hurdy-gurdy in the street is playing as before, but a new tune.

DISSOLVE:

A beach on Coney Island.

Bernstein in a rented period bathing suit sits alone in the sand, reading a copy of the "Enquirer."

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1900

The whole floor is now a City Room.  It is twice its former size, yet not too large for all the desks and the people using them.  The windows have been enlarged, providing a good deal more light and air.  A wall calendar says September 9th.

Kane and Bernstein enter and stand in the entrance a moment.  Kane, who really did look a bit peaked before, is now clear-eyed and tanned.  He is wearing new English clothes.  As they come into the room, Bernstein practically walking sideways, is doing nothing but beaming and admiring Kane, quelling like a mother at the Carnegie Hall debut of her son.  Seeing and recognizing Kane, the entire staff rises to its feet.

					    KANE
				    (referring to the staff;
				     with a smile)
			    Ask them to sit down, Mr. Bernstein.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Sit down, everybody - for heaven's
			    sake!

The order is immediately obeyed, everybody going into business of feverish activity.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    So then, tonight, we go over everything
			    thoroughly, eh?  Especially the new
			    papers -

					    KANE
			    We certainly do.  Vacation's over -	
			    starting right after dinner.  But
			    right now - that lady over there -
				    (he indicates a woman
				     at the desk)
			    - that's the new society editor, I
			    take it?  You think I could interrupt
			    her a moment, Mr. Bernstein?

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Huh?  Oh, I forgot - you've been
			    away so long I forgot about your
			    joking -

He trails after Kane as he approaches the Society Editor's desk.  The Society Editor, a middle-aged spinster, sees him approaching and starts to quake all over, but tries to pretend she isn't aware of him.  An envelope in her hand shakes violently.  Kane and Bernstein stop at her desk.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Miss Townsend -

Miss Townsend looks up and is so surprised to see Bernstein with a stranger.

					    MISS TOWNSEND
			    Good afternoon, Mr. Bernstein.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    This is Mr. Kane, Miss Townsend.

Miss Townsend can't stick to her plan.  She starts to rise, but her legs are none too good under her.  She knocks over a tray of copy paper as she rises, and bends to pick it up.

					    KANE
				    (very hesitatingly and
				     very softly)
			    Miss Townsend -

At the sound of his voice, she straightens up.  She is very close to death from excitement.

					    KANE
			    I've been away for several months,
			    and I don't know exactly how these
			    things are handled now.  But one
			    thing I wanted to be sure of is that
			    you won't treat this little 
			    announcement any differently than	
			    you would any other similar 
			    announcement.

He hands her an envelope.  She has difficulty in holding on to it.

					    KANE
			    	    (gently)
			    Read it, Miss Townsend.  And remember 
			    - just the regular treatment!
			    See you at nine o'clock, Mr. Bernstein!

Kane leaves.  Bernstein looks after him, then at the paper.  Miss Townsend finally manages to open the envelope.  A piece of flimsy paper, with a few written lines, is her reward.

					    MISS TOWNSEND
			    	    (reading)
			    Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Moore Norton 
			    announce the engagement of their 
			    daughter, Emily Monroe Norton, to Mr.
			    Charles Foster Kane.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (starts to read it)
			    Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Moore Norton
			    announce -

					    MISS TOWNSEND
				    (fluttering - on top of him)
			    She's - she's the niece of - of the 
			    President of the United States -

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (nodding proudly)
			    I know.  Come on, Miss Townsend - 
			    From the window, maybe we can get a 
			    look.

He takes her by the hand and leads her off.

Angle toward open window.  Bernstein and Miss Townsend, backs to camera, rushing to the window.

EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1900

High angle downward - what Bernstein and Miss Townsend see from the window.

Kane is just stepping into an elegant barouch, drawn up at the curb, in which sits Miss Emily Norton.  He kisses her full on the lips before he sits down.  She acts a bit taken aback, because of the public nature of the scene, but she isn't really annoyed.  As the barouche starts off, she is looking at him adoringly.  He, however, has turned his head and is looking adoringly at the "Enquirer."  He apparently sees Bernstein and Miss Townsed and waves his hand.

INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER - DAY - 1900

Bernstein and Miss Townsend at window.  

				 	    BERNSTEIN
			    A girl like that, believe me, she's
			    lucky!  Presiden't niece, huh!  Say,
			    before he's through, she'll be a 
			    Presiden't wife.

Miss Townsend is now dewey-eyed.  She looks at Bernstein, who has turned away, gazing down at the departing couple.

DISSOLVE:

Front page of the "Enquirer."  Large picture of the young couple - Kane and Emily - occupying four columns - very happy.

DISSOLVE:

INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - ENQUIRER - DAY - 1940

Bernstein and Thompson.  As the dissolve comes, Bernstein's voice is heard.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    The way things turned out, I don't
			    need to tell you - Miss Emily Norton
			    was no rosebud!

					    THOMPSON
			    It didn't end very well, did it?

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (shaking his head)
			    It ended -
				    (a slight pause)
			    Then there was Susie - that ended, too.
				    (shrugs, a pause; then
				     looking up into Thompson's
				     eyes)
			    I guess he didn't make her very happy -
				    (a pause)
			    You know, I was thinking - that Rosebud
			    you're trying to find out about -

				  	    THOMPSON
			    Yes -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Maybe that was something he lost.
			    Mr. Kane was a man that lost - almost
			    everything he had -
				    (a pause)
			    You ought to talk to Bradford Leland.
			    He could tell you a lot.  I wish I
			    could tell you where Leland is, but I
			    don't know myself.  He may be out of
			    town somewhere - he may be dead.

					    THOMPSON
			    In case you'd like to know, Mr.
			    Bernstein, he's at the Huntington
			    Memorial Hospital on 180th Street.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    You don't say!  Why I had no idea -

					    THOMPSON
			    Nothing particular the matter with
			    him, they tell me.  Just -
				    (controls himself)

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Just old age. 
				    (smiles sadly)
			    It's the only disease, Mr. Thompson,
			    you don't look forward to being cured
			    of.
				    (pauses)
			    You ought to see Mr. Leland.  There's
			    a whole lot of things he could tell
			    you - if he wanted to.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

EXT. HOSPITAL ROOF - DAY - 1940

Close shot - Thompson.  He is tilted back in a chair which seems to be, and is, leaning against a chimney.  Leland's voice is heard for a few moments before Leland is seen.

					    LELAND'S VOICE
			    When you get to my age, young man, 
			    you don't miss anything.  Unless
			    maybe it's a good drink of bourbon.
			    Even that doesn't make much difference,
			    if you remember there hasn't been
			    any good bourbon in this country for
			    twenty years.

Camera has pulled back, during above speech, revealing that Leland, wrapped in a blanket, is in a wheel chair, talking to Thompson.  They are on the flat roof of a hospital.  Other people in wheel chairs can be seen in the background, along with a nurse or two.  They are all sunning themselves.

					    THOMPSON
			    Mr. Leland, you were -

					    LELAND
			    You don't happen to have a cigar,
			    do you?  I've got a young physician
			    - must remember to ask to see his
			    license - the odds are a hundred to
		   	    one he hasn't got one - who thinks
			    I'm going to stop smoking...  I 
			    changed the subject, didn't I?  Dear,
			    dear!  What a disagreeable old man
			    I've become.  You want to know what I
			    think of Charlie Kane?  Well - I suppose
			    he has some private sort of greatness.
			    But he kept it to himself.  
				    (grinning)
			    He never - gave himself away -  He 
			    never gave anything away.  He just -
			    left you a tip.  He had a generous
			    mind.  I don't suppose anybody ever had
			    so many opinions.  That was because
			    he had the power to express them, and
			    Charlie lived on power and the excitement
			    of using it -  But he didn't believe in
			    anything except Charlie Kane.  He never
			    had a conviction in his life.  I guess
			    he died without one -  That must have
			    been pretty unpleasant.  Of course, a
			    lot of us check out with no special
			    conviction about death.  But we do know
			    what we're leaving ... we believe in
			    something.
				    (looks sharply at Thompson)
			    You're absolutely sure you haven't got
			    a cigar?

					    THOMPSON
			    Sorry, Mr. Leland.

					    LELAND
			    Never mind -  Bernstein told you about
			    the first days at the office, didn't 
			    he?  Well, Charlie was a bad newspaper
			    man even then.  He entertained his
			    readers, but he never told them the
			    truth.

					    THOMPSON
			    Maybe you could remember something 
			    that -

					    LELAND
			    I can remember everything.  That's
			    my curse, young man.  It's the 
			    greatest curse that's ever been
			    inflicted on the human race.  Memory
			    -  I was his oldest friend. 
				    (slowly)
			    As far as I was concerned, he
			    behaved like swine.  Maybe I wasnt'
			    his friend.  If I wasn't, he never
			    had one.  Maybe I was what nowadays
			    you call a stooge -

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. CITY ROOM - THE ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1895

The party (previously shown in the Bernstein sequence).

We start this sequence toward the end of the former one, but from a fresh angle, holding on Leland, who is at the end of the table.  Kane is heard off, making a speech.

					    KANE'S VOICE
			    Not one of you has been hired
			    because of his loyalty.  It's your
			    talent I'm interested in.  That talent
			    that's going to make the "Enquirer" 
			    the kind of paper I want - the best
			    newspaper in the world!

Applause.  During above, Bernstein has come to Leland's side.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Isn't it wonderful?  Such a party!

					    LELAND
			    Yes.

His tone causes Bernstein to look at him.

					    KANE'S VOICE
			    However, I think you'll agree we've
			    heard enough about newspapers and 
			    the newspaper business for one night.

The above speeches are heard under the following dialogue.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (to Leland)
			    What's the matter?

					    LELAND
			    Mr. Bernstein, these men who are now
			    with the "Enquirer" - who were with
			    the "Chronicle" until yesterday - 
			    weren't they just as devoted to the
			    "Chronicle" kind of paper as they
			    are now to - our kind of paper?

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Sure.  They're like anybody else.
			    They got work to do.  They do it.
				    (proudly)
			    Only they happen to be the best men
			    in the business.

					    KANE
				    (finishing his speech)
			    There are other subjects in the world -

Kane whistles.  The band and the chorus girls enter and hell breaks loose all around Leland and Bernstein.

					    LELAND
				    (after a minute)
			    Do we stand for the same things 
			    that the "Chronicle" stands for,
			    Mr. Bernstein?

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (indignantly)
			    Certainly not.  So what's that got
			    to do with it?  Mr. Kane, he'll 
			    have them changed to his kind of 
			    newspapermen in a week.

					    LELAND
			    Probably.  There's always a chance,
			    of course, that they'll change Mr.
			    Kane - without his knowing it.

Kane has come up to Leland and Bernstein.  He sits down next to them, lighting a cigarette.

				   	    KANE
			    Well, gentlemen, are we going to
			    war?

					    LELAND
			    Our readers are, anyway, I don't
			    know about the rest of the country.

					    KANE
				    (enthusiastically)
			    It'll be our first foreign war in 
			    fifty years, Brad.  We'll cover it
			    the way the "Hickville Gazette" covers
			    the church social!  The names of
			    everybody there; what they wore; what
			    they ate; who won the prizes; who
			    gave the prizes -
				    (gets excited)
			    I tell you, Brad, I envy you.  
				    (quoting)
			    By Bradford Leland, the "Enquirer's"
			    Special Correspondent at the Front.
			    I'm almost tempted -

					    LELAND
			    But there is no Front, Charlie.  
			    There's a very doubtful civil war.
			    Besides, I don't want the job.

					    KANE
			    All right, Brad, all right - you
			    don't have to be a war correspondent
			    unless you want to - I'd want to.
				    (looking up)
			    Hello, Georgie.

Georgie, a very handsome madam has walked into the picture, stands behind him.  She leans over and speaks quietly in his ear.

					    GEORGIE
			    Is everything the way you want it,
			    dear?

					    KANE
			    	    (looking around)
			    If everybody's having fun, that's 
			    the way I want it.

				     	    GEORGIE
			    I've got some other little girls 
			    coming over -

					    LELAND
				    (interrupting)
			    Charles, I tell you there is no war!
			    There's a condition that should be
			    remedied - but between that and a -

					    KANE
				    (seriously)
			    How would the "Enquirer" look with
			    no news about this non-existent war
			    - with Benton, Pulitzer and Heart
			    devoting twenty columns a day to it?

					    LELAND
			    They do it only because you do!

					    KANE
				    (grins)
			    And I do it because they do it, and
			    they do it - it's a vicious circle,
			    isn't it?  
				    (rises)
			    I'm going over to Georgie's, Brad -
			    you know, Georgie, don't you?

Leland nods.

					    GEORGIE
			    	    (over Kane's next lines)
			    Glad to meet you, Brad.

Leland shudders.

				  	    KANE
			    I told you about Brad, Georgie.	
			    He needs to relax.

Brad doesn't answer.

					    KANE
			    Some ships with wonderful wines
			    have managed to slip through the
			    enemy fleet that's blockading New
			    York harbor -
				    (grins)
			    Georgie knows a young lady whom I'm
			    sure you'd adore - wouldn't he,
			    Georgie?  Why only the other evening
			    I said to myself, if Brad were only
			    here to adore this young lady - this -
				    (snaps his fingers)
			    What's her name again?

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. GEORGIE'S PLACE - NIGHT - 1895

Georgie is introducing a young lady to Branford Leland.  On sound track we hear piano music.

					    GEORGIE
			    	    (right on cue from 
				     preceding scene)
			    Ethel - this gentlemen has been
			    very anxious to meet you -  This
			    is Ethel.

					    ETHEL
			    Hello, Mr. Leland.

Camera pans to include Kane, seated at piano, with girls gathered around him.

					    ONE OF THE GIRLS
			    Charlie!  Play the song about you.

					    ANOTHER GIRL
			    Is there a song about Charlie?

Kane has broken into "Oh, Mr. Kane!" and Charlie and the girls start to sing.  Ethel leads the unhappy Leland over to the group.  Kane, seeing Leland and taking his eye, motions to the professor who has been standing next to him to take over.  The professor does so.  The singing continues.  Kane rises and crosses to Leland.

					    KANE
			    Say, Brad.
				    (draws him slightly aside)
			    I've got an idea.

					    LELAND
			    Yes?

					    KANE
			    I mean I've got a job for you.

					    LELAND
			    Good.

					    KANE
			    You don't want to be a war
			    correspondent - how about being a
			    dramatic critic?

					    LELAND
				    (sincerely, but not
				     gushing; seriously)
			    I'd like that.

Kane starts quietly to dance in time to the music.  Leland smiles at him.

					    KANE
			    You start tomorrow night.  Richard
			    Carl in "The Spring Chicken."
				    (or supply show)
			    I'll get us some girls.  You get
			    tickets.  A drama critic gets them
			    free, you know.
				    (grins)
			    Rector's at seven?

					    LELAND
			    Charlie -

					    KANE
			    Yes?

					    LELAND
			    	    (still smiling)
			    It doesn't make any difference about
			    me, but one of these days you're 
			    going to find out that all this
			    charm of yours won't be enough -

				  	    KANE
				    (has stopped dancing)
			    You're wrong.  It does make a 
			    difference to you -  Rector's,
			    Brad?
				    (starts to dance again)
			    Come to think of it, I don't blame
			    you for not wanting to be a war
			    correspondent.  You won't miss
			    anything.  It isn't much of a war.
			    Besides, they tell me there isn't
			    a decent restaurant on the whole
			    island.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. RECTOR'S - NIGHT - 1898

Leland, Kane, two young ladies at Rector's.  Popular music is heard over the soundtrack.  Everybody is laughing very, very hard at something Kane has said.  The girls are hysterical.  Kane can hardly breathe.  As Leland's laughter becomes more and more hearty, it only increases the laughter of the others.

DISSOLVE:

EXT. CUNARD LOCKS - GANGPLANK AND DECK OF BOAT - NIGHT - 1900

As told by Bernstein.  Kane is calling down to Leland and Bernstein (as before).

					    KANE
			    You don't expect me to keep any
			    of those promises, do you?

A band on deck strikes up "Auld Lang Syne" and further ship-to-shore conversation is rendered unfeasible.

Bernstein and Leland on deck.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (turns to Leland)
			    Do you, Mr. Leland?

					    LELAND
				    (smiling)
			    Certainly not.

Slight pause.  They continue on their way.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Mr. Leland, why didn't you go to
			    Europe with him?  He wanted you
			    to.  He said to me just yesterday -

					    LELAND
			    I wanted him to have fun - and with
			    me along -

This stops Bernstein.  Bernstein looks at him.

					    LELAND
			    Mr. Bernstein, I wish you'd let me
			    ask you a few questions, and answer
			    me truthfully.

				  	    BERNSTEIN
			    Don't I always?  Most of the time?

					    LELAND
			    Mr. Bernstein, am I a stuffed shirt?
			    Am I a horse-faced hypocrite?  Am I
			    a New England school-marm?

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Yes.

Leland is surprised.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    If you thought I'd answer different
			    from what Mr. Kane tells you - well,
			    I wouldn't.

					    LELAND
				    (good naturedly)
			    You're in a conspiracy against me,
			    you two.  You always have been.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Against me there should be such a 
			    conspiracy some time!

He pauses.  "Auld Lang Syne" can still be heard from the deck of the department steamer.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (with a hopeful look in 
				     his eyes)
			    Well, he'll be coming back in September.
		 	    The Majestic.  I got the reservations.
			    It gets in on the ninth.

					    LELAND
			    September the ninth?

Leland puts his hand in his pocket, pulls out a pencil and small engagement book, opens the book and starts to write.

Leland's pencil writing on a page in the engagement book open to September 9: "Rector's - 8:30 p.m."

DISSOLVE:

Front page "Enquirer."  Large picture of the young couple - Kane and Emily - occupying four columns - very happy.

EXT. HOSPITAL ROOF - DAY - 1940

Leland and Thompson.  Leland is speaking as we dissolve.

					    LELAND
			    I used to go to dancing school with
			    her.

Thompson had handed Leland a paper.

					    LELAND
			    What's this?

					    THOMPSON
			    It's a letter from her lawyers.

					    LELAND
				    (reading aloud from
				     the letter)
			    David, Grobleski & Davis -  My
			    dear Rawlston -
				    (looks up)

					    THOMPSON
			    Rawlston is my boss.

					    LELAND
			    Oh, yes.  I know about Mr. Rawlston.

					    THOMPSON
			    He knows the first Mrs. Kane socially
			    -  That's the answer we got.

					    LELAND
				    (reading)
			    I am in receipt of your favor of
			    yesterday.  I beg you to do me the
			    courtesy of accepting my assurance
			    that Mrs. Whitehall cannot be induced
			    to contribute any more information
			    on the career of Charles Foster Kane.
			    She has authorized me to state on 
			    previous occasions that she regards
			    their brief marriage as a distateful
			    episode in her life that she prefers
			    to forget.  With assurances of the
			    highest esteem -

Leland hands the paper back to Thompson.

					    LELAND
			    Brief marriage!  Ten years!
				    (sighs)

					    THOMPSON
			    Was he in love?

					    LELAND
			    He married for love -
				    (a little laugh)
			    That's why he did everything.  That's
			    why he went into politics.  It seems
			    we weren't enough.  He wanted all the
			    voters to love him, too.  All he 
			    really wanted out of life was love.
			    That's Charlie's story - it's the 
			    story of how he lost it.  You see, he
			    just didn't have any to give.  He
			    loved Charlie Kane, of course, very 
			    dearly - and his mother, I guess he 
			    always loved her.  As for Emily - 
			    well, all I can tell you is Emily's
			    story as she told it to me, which 	
			    probably isn't fair - there's supposed
			    to be two sides to every story - and
			    I guess there are.  I guess there's
			    more than two sides -

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

Newspaper - Kane's marriage to Emily with still of group on White House lawn, same setup as early newsreel in News Digest.

DISSOLVE:

Screaming headline:

OIL SCANDAL!

DISSOLVE:

Headline reading:

KANE TO SEE PRESIDENT

DISSOLVE:

Big headline on "Enquirer" front page which reads:

KANE TO SEE PRESIDENT

Under this, one of those big box signed editorials, typical of Kane, illustrated, on subject of the power of the president, expressed in about nine different cases of type, and illustrated by a cartoon of the White House, on which camera tightens, as we -

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. THE WHITE HOUSE - THE PRESIDENT'S EXECUTIVE OFFICE - DAY - 1900

This scene is shot so as never to show the President - or at least never his face.  There is present the President's Secretary, sitting on one side of the desk, intently taking notes.  Kane is on his feet, in front of the desk, tense and glaring.

					    THE PRESIDENT
			    It is the unanimous opinion of my
			    Cabinent - in which I concur - that
			    the proposed leases are in the best
			    interests of the Governement and the
			    people.
				    (pauses)
			    You are not, I hope, suggesting that
			    these interests are not indentical?

					    KANE
			    I'm not suggesting anything, Mr. 
			    President!  I've come here to tell 
			    you that, unless some action is taken
			    promptly - and you are the only one
			    who can take it - the oil that is the
			    property of the people of this country
			    will be turned over for a song to a	
			    gang of high-pressure crooks!

					    THE PRESIDENT
				    (calmly)
			    I must refuse to allow you to continue
			    in this vein, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
				    (screaming)
			    It's the only vein I know.  I tell
			    the facts the way I see them.  And
			    any man that knows that facts -

					    THE PRESIDENT
			    I know the facts, Mr. Kane.  And I
			    happen to have the incredible insolence
			    to differ with you as to what they
			    mean.
				    (pause)
			    You're a man of great talents, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    Thanks.

					    THE PRESIDENT
			    I understand that you have political
			    ambitions.  Unfortunately, you seem
			    incapable of allowing any other opinion
			    but your own -

					    KANE
			    	    (building to a frenzy)
			    I'm much obliged, Mr. President, for
			    your concern about me.  However, I
			    happen to be concerned at this moment
			    with the matter of extensive oil
			    lands belonging to the people of the
			    United States, and I say that if this
			    lease goes through, the property of
			    the people of the United States goes
			    into the hands of -

					    THE PRESIDENT
				    (interrupting)
			    You've made your point perfectly clear,
			    Mr. Kane.  Good day.

The Secretary rises.  Kane, with every bit of will power remotely at his disposal to control what might become an hysterical outburst, manages to bow.

					    KANE
			    Mr. President.

He starts out of the office.

DISSOLVE:

INT. COMPOSING ROOM - ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1902

Kane, Reilly, Leland and a composing room Foreman, in working clothes, bending over a table with several forms of type.  They are looking, at this moment, at a made-up headline - but Kane's back is in the way ... so we can't read it.

					    FOREMAN
			    How about it, Mr. Kane?

Reilly glances at his wrist watch and makes a face.  Kane smiles as he notices this.

					    KANE
			    All right.  Let her slide!

He turns away, and we can now read the headline.

Insert of the headline, which reads:

"OIL THEFT BECOMES LAW AS 
PRESIDENT WITHOLDS VETO"

DISSOLVE:

Here follows a quick montage (presently to be worked out) of no more than four or five images in which the President, by means of cartoons, editorials, headlines (all faithfully reproduced from period yellow journalism) is violently attacked.  The montage ends on the word TREASON.  The music cuts.

A hand reaches in a side pocket which contains a newspaper - recognizably the "Enquirer."  The hand removes a gun.  The gun is shot.  Many arms seize the hand which is pulled up - gun still firing.  As the arm is raised in the air, we see that the other arms holding the arm and struggling with it are uniformed, and we see the White House beyond.

DISSOLVE:

News ticker which is spelling out the words:

"ASSASSINATED 7:45 P.M."

NOTE:  Under the following - a down shot, below the "Enquirer," shows a crowd forming, looking angrily up toward the camera.  Crowd noises on the soundtrack under music.

A hand snatches the ticker tape away and as the image of the crowd dissolves out, we pull back to show:

INT. OF KANE'S OFFICE - NIGHT - 1902

The ticker tape is in Reilly's hand.  Reilly has a phone to his ear.

					    REILLY
			    Looks bad for us, Mr. Kane.  How
			    shall we handle it?

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. GEORGIE'S PLACE - 1902

Kane in shirtsleeves at phone.

					    KANE
			    It's a news story!  Get it on
			    the street!

DISSOLVE:

Headline under "Enquirer" masthead which reads:

"PRESIDENT ASSASSINATED"

A newsboy is crying the headline at the same time.  We pull back to show him and -

DISSOLVE:

INT. THEATRE - NIGHT

The camera is in tight on a box which contains Emily and distinguished elderly ladies and gentlemen, obviously family and friends.  On the soundtrack, very limpid opera music.  Another elderly gent, in white tie but still wearing an overcoat, comes into the box and whispers to Emily.  He has a copy of the "Enquirer" in his hand.  Emily rises.  He shows the paper to her.

DISSOLVE:

EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ENQUIRER BUILDING - NIGHT - 1902

An angry crowd seen from the window of Kane's office.  They make a deep threatening sound which is audible during the following scene.  Across the heads of the crowd are two great squares of light from the windows above them.  One of these disappears as the blind is pulled.  As the dissolve completes itself, the second square of light commences to reduce in size, and then the entire street is cut off by a blind which Leland pulls down, covering the entire frame.

INT. KANE'S OFFICE - ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1902

The staff standing around, worried to death, in their shirtsleeves.

					    KANE
				    (to Reilly)
			    Take dictation -  Front page 
			    editorial -  "This afternoon a 
			    great man was assassinated.  He
			    was the President of the United
			    States -"

					    LELAND
			    Charlie -

					    KANE
			    Yes?

				    	    LELAND
			    Do you think you're the one who
			    should call him a great man?

					    KANE
			    Why not?

					    LELAND
			    Why not?  Well - nobody's a great
			    man in your estimation until he's
			    dead.

					    REILLY
				    (quickly)
			    Maybe we'd better wait for more
			    word on the President's condition.

					    KANE
				    (still looking at Leland)
			    What do you mean by that?

					    LELAND
				    (quietly)
			    Competition.

					    REILLY
			    He may recover -

					    KANE
				    (still holding on Leland)
			    What do you mean by that?

					    LELAND
				    (steadily)
			    Yesterday morning you called the
			    President a traitor.  What do you
			    think that crowd is doing down
			    there?  They think you murdered him.

					    KANE
			    Because the crackpot who did it
			    had a copy of the "Enquirer" in his
			    pocket?

					    LELAND
			    - and that copy of the "Enquirer"
			    said the President should be killed.

					    KANE
			    I said treason was a capital offense
			    punishable by death -

					    LELAND
			    You've said a lot of things about
			    the President in the last few months.

					    KANE
			    They're true!  Everything I said!
			    Witholding that veto was treason!

					    LELAND
				    (interrupting)
			    Charlie!

					    KANE
				    (riding over him)
			    Oil belonging to the people of the
			    United States was leased out for a
			    song to a gang of high-pressure 
			    crooks -  Nobody can blame me because -

					    LELAND
			    Look out that window.

Kane stops - looks at him.

					    LELAND
			    There are the people of the United
			    States, and they are blaming you -
			    Oh, I know it doesn't make any sense,
			    but at least you can learn a lesson
			    from it.

					    KANE
				    (snarling)
			    What lesson?  Not to expose fraud
			    when I see it?  Not to fight for the
			    right of the people to own their own
			    property?
				    (he turns to Reilly)
			    Run it the way I said, Reilly - "This
			    afternoon a great man was assassinated -"

					    LELAND
			    Charlie!  Now you're not making sense.

					    KANE
				    (sharply)
			    I don't have to.  I run a newspaper
			    with half a million readers and 
			    they're getting a martyred president
			    this morning with their breakfast.
			    I can't help that.  Besides, they all
			    know I'm married to his niece.  I've
			    got to think of her.

					    LELAND
			    What?

					    KANE
			    I've got to think of Emily -

					    LELAND
				    (after a silence)
			    I'd like to talk to you about that.
	
					    KANE
			    Go ahead.

Leland looks back at Kane, is conscious of the boys standing around.

					    LELAND
			    Finish your editorial.

Leland walks out in to the City Room.  More staff members in shirt sleeves in a state of panic.  Leland goes to his desk, takes out a bottle, pours himself a very stiff drink.  A door opens.  A Policeman enters with Bernstein.  Bernstein is badly battered.  The boys crowd around.

					    LELAND
				    (worried)
			    What's happened?

					    BERNSTEIN
			    	    (smiling)
			    I'm all right, Mr. Leland.  Only
			    there was some fellows out front
			    that thought they ought to take 
			    things up with me.  I learned 'em!
			    Didn't I, officer?

					    THE COP
				    (grinning)
			    You sure did -  Say, the Commissioner
			    said I was to stand by and protect
			    Mr. Kane until further orders, no
			    matter how he felt about it.  Where
			    is he?

					    LELAND
				    (finishing his drink)
			    In there.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    If you hadn't come along and
			    protected me when you did, I'd have
			    killed them fellows.

					    LELAND
				    (pouring himself another 
				     drink)
			    Go and get yourself washed up, Mr.
			    Bernstein.
				    (he looks his face over
				     thoroughly)
			    There doesn't seem to be an serious
			    injury.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Not to me.  But you will let that
			    cop go home with Mr. Kane, won't you?

					    LELAND
			    Yes, Mr. Bernstein.

Bernstein leaves the picture with sympathetic attendance.  Leland finishes his second drink.

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S OFFICE - NIGHT - 1902

The bottle is finished.  The door in the Sanctrum opens.  Reilly and the others leave.

					    REILLY
				    (as they go)
			    Goodnight, Mr. Kane.

Kane stands in the door, waiting for Leland.  Leland gets up and moves toward the office - goes in, sits down across from Kane at the desk.  An uncomfortable pause.  Then Kane smiles ingratiatingly.  Leland tries to cope with this.

					    LELAND
			    First of all -
				    (he can't go on)

					    KANE
				    (not cruelly -
				     genuinely kind)
			    What's wrong, Brad?

					    LELAND
			    I'm drunk.

					    KANE
			    I'll get you some coffee.

He rises and goes to the door.

					    LELAND
			    First of all, I will not write a
			    good review of a play because 
			    somebody paid a thousand dollars
			    for an advertisement in the
			    "Enquirer."

				  	    KANE
				    (gently - opening the
				     door)
			    That's just a little promotion scheme.
			    Nobody expects you -
				    (calling)
			    Mike, will you try and get Mr. Leland
			    some coffee?

					    MIKE'S VOICE
			    Sure thing, Mr. Kane.

Kane turns back to Leland.  Leland doesn't look up at him.

					    LELAND
			    Charlie, it's just no go.  We
		    	    can't agree anymore.  I wish you'd
			    let me go to Chicago.

					    KANE
			    Why, Brad?

					    LELAND
			    I want to be transferred to the new
			    paper.  You've been saying yourself
			    you wish you had somebody to -
				    (he is heartsick, inarticulate)
			    That's not what I wanted to talk
			    about.

Kane goes around behind the desk and sits down.

					    KANE
			    I'll tell you what I'll do, Brad -
			    I'll get drunk, too - maybe that'll
			    help.

					    LELAND
			    No, that won't help.  Besides, you
			    never get drunk.  I wanted to talk
			    about you and Emily.

Kane looks at Leland sharply before he speaks.

					    KANE
			    	    (quietly)
			    All right.

					    LELAND
				    (without looking at him)
			    She's going to leave you -

					    KANE
			    I don't think so, Brad.  We've 
			    just had word that the President
			    is out of danger.	
				    (ruefully)
			    It seems I didn't kill him after all.

					    LELAND
				    (takes his eye)
			    She was going to leave you anyway -

Kane takes this in.
	
					    LELAND
			    Emily's going south next week with		
			    the child.  As far as anybody's to
			    know, it's a holiday.  When they get
			    back -

					    KANE
				    (sharply)
			    Brad, you are drunk.

					    LELAND
			    Sure I am.  She wants full custody
			    of the child no matter what happens.
		  	    If you won't agree to that, she'll
			    apply for a divorce regardless of 
			    the President's wishes.  I can't tell
			    her she's wrong, because she isn't
			    wrong -

					    KANE
			    Why is she leaving me?

					    LELAND
				    (it's very hard for him
				     to say all this)
			    She hasn't any friends left sine
			    you started this oil business, and
			    she never sees you.

					    KANE
			    Do you think the "Enquirer" shouldn't
			    have campaigned against the oil leases?

					    LELAND
				    (hesitating)
			    You might have made the whole thing
			    less personal!

No answer from Kane.

					    LELAND
			    It isn't just that the President
			    was her uncle - everyone she knows,
			    all the people she's been brought
			    up with, everything she's ever been
			    taught to believe is important -

Still no answer from Kane.

					    LELAND
			    There's no reason why this - this
			    savage personal note -

					    KANE
			    The personal note is all there is
			    to it.  It's all there ever is to	
			    it.  It's all there every is to 
			    anything!  Stupidity in our government,
			    complacency and self-satisfaction
			    and unwillingness to believe that
			    anything done by a certain class of
			    people can be wrong - you can't
			    fight those things impersonally.  
			    They're not impersonal crimes against
			    people.  They're being done by actual
			    persons - with actual names and 
			    positions and - the right of the 
			    American people to own their own 
			    country is not an academic issue, Brad,
			    that you debate - and then the judges
			    retire to return a verdict and the
			    winners give a dinner for the losers.

					    LELAND
			    You almost convince me.
				    (rising)
			    I'm just drunk enough to tell you the
			    truth.  I have to be a little drunk
			    for that because I'm a coward.  You
			    know that.  That's why you keep me
			    around.
				    (smiles)
			    You only associate with your inferiors,
			    Charlie.  I guess that's why you ran
			    away from Emily.  Because you can't 
			    stand the company of your equals.  You
			    don't like to admit they exist - the
			    other big people in your world are dead.		
			    I told you that.

Kane looks at Leland, but Leland can't be stopped now.  He speaks very quietly - no poison in his voice - no personal indignation - as though he were explaining the nature of a disease.

					    LELAND
			    You talk about the people of the
			    United States as though they 
			    belonged to you.  When you find 
			    out they don't think they are, 
			    you'll lose interest.  You talk about
			    giving them their rights as though
			    you could make a present of liberty.
			    Remember the working man?  You used
			    to defend him quite a good deal.  
			    Well, he's turning into something
			    called organized labor and you don't
			    like that at all.  And listen, when
			    your precious underprivileged really
			    get together - that's going to add 
			    up to something bigger than - than 
			    your privilege and then I don't know
			    what you'll do - sail away to a desert
			    island, probably, and lord it over the
			    monkeys.

					    KANE
			    Are you finished?

					    LELAND
			    Yes.
				    (looking down)
			    Now, will you let me go to Chicago?

					    KANE
				    (with a little smile)
			    You're not going to like it in
			    Chicago.  They wind comes howling
			    in from the lake.  And there's 
			    practically no opera season at all -	
			    and the Lord only knows whether 
			    they've ever heard of Lobster Newburg -

					    LELAND
			    That's all right.
				    (he won't be charmed 
				     out of his duty)
			    What are you going to do about Emily?

					    KANE
				    (his face hardning a 
				     little)
			    Nothing - if she dosen't love me -

Leland has risen.  He speaks as he turns away, starting towards the door.

					    LELAND
			    You want love on your own terms, 
			    don't you, Charlie -
				    (he stops - his back 
				     turned to Kane)
			    Love according to your own rules.
			    And if anything goes wrong and 
			    you're hurt - then the game stops,
			    and you've got to be soothed and
			    nursed, no matter what else is
			    happening - and no matter who else
			    is hurt!

					    KANE
			    It's simpler than that, Brad.  A
			    society girl can't stand the gaff,
			    that's all.  Other things are 	
			    important to her - social position,
			    what they're saying on the front
			    porches at Southampton, is it going
			    to be embarrassing to meet somebody
			    or the other at dinner -

Leland has turned, taking his eye again.  Now Kane stops and smiles.

					    KANE
			    She can leave me.  As a matter of
			    fact, I've already left her.  Don't
			    worry, Brad - I'll live.

					    LELAND
			    I know you will.

					    KANE
				    (with all his charm)
			    Hey, Brad!  I've been analyzed an
			    awful lot tonight - let's have
			    another brandy.

Leland shakes his head.  Kane lifts his glass.

					    KANE
			    To love on my terms.  Those are
			    the only terms anybody knows ...
			    his own.

DISSOLVE:

EXT. ENQUIRER BUILDING - NIGHT - 1902

Kane, Leland, and a couple of policemen make their way out of the front toward a hansom cab.

					    A VOICE FROM
					    THE CROWD
			    You moiderer!

A rock is thrown.  It hits Leland on the face.  A little blood flows.  Kane doesn't see it at first.  Then when he's in the hansom cab, he turns and notices it.

					    KANE
			    Are you hurt?

Leland has a handkerchief to his face.

					    LELAND
			    No.  I wish you'd go home to Emily.
			    She'll be pretty upset by all this -	
			    She still loves you -

The crowd, pushed by the cops, retreats in the background, but still hard by.

					    KANE
			    You still want to be transferred
			    to the other paper?

					    LELAND
			    Yes.

					    KANE
			    	    (leaning out of the
				     hansom cab)
			    Well, you've been getting a pretty
			    low salary here in New York.  It
			    seems to me that the new dramatic
			    critic of our Chicago paper should
			    get what he's worth.
				    (almost as a question)

					    LELAND
			    	    (with handkerchief still
				     attached to his face)
			    I couldn't possibly live on as
			    little as that, Charlie.  We'll let
			    the salary stay where it is.

The hansom cab starts up.  We hold on Leland's face as we

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. KANE'S NEW YORK HOME - KANE'S BEDROOM - EARLY MORNING - 1902

Emily is in bed, a damp cloth over her temples.  Kane is standing at the foot of the bed.  The baby's bed is in a corner of the room.  The baby's nurse is standing near the crib, a nurse for Emily is near her.  Kane is looking fixedly on Emily, who is staring tiredly at the ceiling.

					    KANE
				    (to the nurse)
			    Excuse us a moment, please.

The nurse looks at Emily.

					    KANE
				    (peremptorily)
			    I said, excuse us a moment.
			    
The nurse, unwilling, leaves.

					    KANE
			    I've been talking to Leland.  Emily -
			    You can't leave me now - not now -

Silence.

					    KANE
			    It isn't what it would do to my
			    changes in politics, Emily -  That
			    isn't it -  They were talking of 
		  	    running me for governor, but now, 
			    of course, we'll have to wait -  
			    It isn't that, Emily -  It's just -
			    the president is your uncle and
			    they're saying I killed him.

Still silence.

					    KANE
			    That story about the murderer having
			    a copy of the "Enquirer" in his
			    pocket - the "Chronicle" made that up
			    out of whole cloth -  Emily, please -
			    He's going to be all right, you know,
			    he's going to recover -
				    (bitterly)
			    If it will make you any happier, we
			    had nine pages of advertising 
			    cancelled in the first mail this 
			    morning.  Bernstein is afraid to open
			    any more letters.  He -

He stops.  He sees that he's getting no place with Emily.

					    KANE
				    (exasperated)
			    What do you expect me to do?  What
			    in the world -

					    EMILY
				    (weakly)
			    Charles.

He waits for her to continue.

					    EMILY
			    Do you really think -
				    (she can't continue)
			    Those threatening letters, can
			    they really -

She sits up and looks at the crib.  She almost continues to look at the crib, with almost unseeing eyes.

					    KANE
				    (uncomfortably)
			    They won't do anything to Junior,
			    darling.
				    (contemptuously)
			    Anonymous letter writers -   I've
			    got guards in front of the house,
			    and I'm going to arrange -

					    EMILY
				    (turning her face
				     toward him)
			    Please don't talk any more, Charles.

Kane is about to say something, but bites his lips instead.  Emily keeps staring at him.

					    EMILY
		 	    Have they heard from father yet?
			    Has he seen -

					    KANE
			    I've tried to tell you, Emily.
			    The President's going to be all
			    right.  He had a comfortable night.
			    There's no danger of any kind.

Emily nods several times.  There is an uncomforable silence.  Suddenly there is a cry from the crib.  Emily leaps from the bed and rushes to him.  She bends over the crib.

					    EMILY
				    (murmuring)
			    Here I am, darling...  Darling!...
			    Darling, it's all right...  Mother's
			    here.

					    KANE
			    Emily - you musn't leave me now -
			    you can't do that to me.

					    EMILY
			    They won't hurt you, darling.  
			    Mother's with you!  Mother's looking
			    after you!

Kane, unwanted, ignored, looks on.  Tightening his lips, he walks out.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. KANE'S OFFICE - NIGHT

By the desk light, Kane is seen working with his usual intensity,  Reilly standing beside him at the desk.

					    KANE
			    We'll withdraw support completely.
			    Anything else?

					    REILLY
			    Mr. Leland sent back that check.

					    KANE
			    What check?

				   	    REILLY
			    You made it out to him last week
			    after he left for Chicago.

					    KANE
			    Oh, yes, the bonus.

					    REILLY
			    It was for twenty-five thousand
			    dollars.

Kane is perplexed and worried, but we can see in a moment his mind will be on something else.

					    REILLY
			    He sent it back torn up - all 
			    torn up into little bits, and
			    he enclosed something else -  I
			    can't make it out.

Kane doesn't answer.  Reilly goes on.  He has brought out a piece of paper and is reading it.

					    REILLY
			    It says here, "A Declaration of 
			    Principles" -
				    (he still reads)
			    "I will provide the people of this
			    city with a daily paper that will
			    tell all the news honestly" -

Kane has looked up sharply.  Reilly, sensing his look, stops reading and meets his eye.  Slowly, Kane reaches out his hand.  Reilly hands him the piece of paper.  Without reading it, Kane tears it up, throws it into the wastebasket at his side.

DISSOLVE:

INT. MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - NIGHT - 1910

The evening of the final great rally.  These shots remind us of and are identical with and supplementary to the "News Digest" scenes earlier.  The vast auditorium with a huge picture of Kane, cheering crowds, etc.  Emily and Junior are to be seen in the front of a box.  Emily is tired and wears a forced smile on her face.  Junior, now aged nine and a half, is eager, bright-eyed and excited.  Kane is just finishing his speech.

					    KANE
			    It is no secret that I entered
			    upon this campaign with no thought
			    that I could be elected Governor of
			    this state!  It is now no secret that
			    every straw vote, every independent
			    pole, shows that I will be elected.
			    And I repeat to you - my first official
			    act as Governor will be to appoint a
			    special District Attorney to arrange
			    for the indictment, prosecution and
			    conviction of Boss Edward G. Rogers!

Terrific screaming and cheering from the audience.

DISSOLVE OUT:

INT. MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - NIGHT - 1910

The Speaker's Platform.  Numerous officials and civic leaders are crowding around Kane.  Cameramen take flash photographs with old-fashioined flash powder.

					    FIRST CIVIC LEADER
			    Great speech, Mr. Kane.
		
					    SECOND LEADER
				    (pompous)
			    One of the most notable public 
			    utterances ever made by a candidate
			    in this state -

					    KANE
			    Thank you, gentlemen.  Thank you.

He looks up and notices that the box in which Emily and the boy were sitting is now empty.  He starts toward the rear of the platform, through the press of people, Reilly approaches him.

					    REILLY
			    A wonderful speech, Mr. Kane.

Kane pats him on the shoulder as he walks along.

					    REILLY
			    I just got word from Buffalo, Mr.
			    Kane.  They're going to throw you
			    the organization vote - and take a
			    chance maybe you'll give them a 
			    break -

This is said almost inquiringly, as if he were hoping that Kane would give him some assurance that McDonald is not making a mistake.  There is no answer from Kane.

					    REILLY
			    On an independent ticket there's
			    never been anything like it!  If
			    the election were held today, you'd
			    be elected by a hundred thousand
			    votes - and every day between now
			    and November 7th is just going to 
			    add to your majority.

Kane is very pleased.  He continues with Reilly slowly through the crowd - a band playing off.  Bernstein joins him.

					    KANE
			    It does seem too good to be true,
			    doesn't it, Mr. Bernstein?

					    REILLY
			    Rogers isn't even pretending.  He
			    isn't just scared anymore.  He's
			    sick.  Frank Norris told me last 
			    night he hasn't known Rogers to be
			    that worried in twenty-five years.

					    KANE
			    I think it's beginning to dawn on
			    Mr. Rogers that I mean what I say.
			    With Mr. Rogers out of the way, Reilly,
			    I think we may really begin to hope	
			    for a good government in this state.
				    (stopping)
			    Well, Mr. Bernstein?

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (clearly not meaning it)
			    It's wonderful, Mr. Kane.  Wonderful.
			    Wonderful.

					    KANE
			    You don't really think so?

				  	    BERNSTEIN
			    I do.  I do.  I mean, since you're
			    running for Governor - and you want
			    to be elected -  I think it's wonderful
			    you're going to be elected.  Only -
				    (interrupts himself)
			    -  Can I say something?

					    KANE
			    Please, Mr. Bernstein.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Well, the way I look at it -
				    (comes out with it)
			    -  You want to know what I really
			    think would be wonderful?

Kane indicates he is to proceed.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Well, you're running for Governor
		 	    and going to be elected - my idea
			    is how wonderful it would be if you
			    don't run at all and don't get 
			    elected.

DISSOLVE:

EXT. ONE OF THE EXITS - MADISON SQUARE GARDEN - NIGHT - 1910

Emily and Junior are standing, waiting for Kane.

					    JUNIOR
			    Is Pop Governor yet, Mom?

Just then, Kane appears, with Reilly and several other men.  Kane rushes toward Emily and Junior, as the men politely greet Emily.

					    KANE
			    Hello, Butch!  Did you like your
			    old man's speech?

					    JUNIOR
			    Hello, Pop!  I was in a box.  I	
			    could hear every word.

					    KANE
			    I saw you!
				    (he has his arm around
				     Junior's shoulder)
			    Good night, gentlemen.

There are good nights.  Kane's car is at the curb and he starts to walk toward it with Junior and Emily.

					    EMILY
			    I'm sending Junior home in the
			    car, Charles - with Oliver -

					    KANE
			    But I'd arranged to go home with
			    you myself.

					    EMILY
			    There's a call I want you to 
			    make with me, Charles.

					    KANE
			    It can wait.

					    EMILY
			    No, it can't.
				    (she bends down and 
				     kisses Junior)
			    Good night, darling.

					    JUNIOR
			    Good night, Mom.

The driver is holding the rear door open as Emily guides Junior in.

					    KANE
				    (as car starts to
				     drive off)
			    What's this all about, Emily?  I've
			    had a very tiring day and -

					    EMILY
			    It may not be about anything at all.

A cab has pulled up.

					    THE DRIVER
			    Cab?

Emily nods to him.

					    EMILY
			    I intend to find out.

					    KANE
			    I insist on being told exactly what
			    you have in mind.

					    EMILY
			    I'm going to -
				    (she looks at a slip
				     of paper in her hand)
			    - 185 West 74th Street.

Kane's reaction indicates that the address definitely means something to him.  

					    EMILY
			    If you wish, you can come with me...

Kane nods.

					    KANE
			    I'll go with you.

He opens the door and she enters the cab.  He follows her.

DISSOLVE:

INT. CAB - NIGHT - 1910

Kane and Emily.  He looks at her, in search of some kind of enlightenment.  Her face is set and impassive.

DISSOLVE:

EXT. AND INT. APARTMENT HOUSE HALLWAY - NIGHT - 1910

Kane and Emily, in front of an apartment door.  Emily is pressing the bell.

					    KANE
			    I had no idea you had this flair
			    for melodrama, Emiliy.

Emily does not answer.  The door is opened by a maid, who recognizes Kane.

					    THE MAID
			    Come in, Mr. Kane, come in.

They enter, Emily first.

INT. SUSAN'S APARTMENT - NIGHT - 1910

There is first a tiny reception room, through which an open door shows the living room.  Kane and Emily enter from the hallway and cross to the living room.  As they enter, Susan rises from a chair.  The other person  in the room - a big, heavyset man, a little past middle age - stays where he is, leaning back in his chair, regarding Kane intently.

					    SUSAN
			    It wasn't my fault, Charlie.  He
			    made me send your wife a note.  
			    He said I'd - oh, he's been saying
			    the most terrible things, I didn't
			    know what to do...  I -
				    (she catches sight of Emily)

					    ROGERS
			    Good evening, Mr. Kane.
				    (he rises)
			    I don't suppose anybody would 
			    introduce us.  Mrs. Kane, I am 
			    Edward Rogers.

					    EMILY
			    How do you do?
				    (pauses)
			    I came here - and I made Mr. Kane
		  	    come with me...
				    (she consults the note
				     in her hand without 
				     reading it again)
			    because I recieved this note - 

					    ROGERS
			    I made Miss - Miss Alexander send
			    you the note.  She was a little
			    unwilling at first -
			  	    (he smiles grimly)
			    but she did it.

					    SUSAN
			    I can't tell you the things he
			    said, Charlie.  You haven't got
			    any idea -

					    KANE
				    (turning on Rogers)
			    Rogers, I don't think I will 
			    postpone doing something about
		  	    you until I'm elected.
				    (he starts toward him)
			    To start with, I'll break your neck.

					    ROGERS
				    (not giving way an inch)
			    Maybe you can do it and maybe you
			    can't, Mr. Kane.

					    EMILY
			    Charles!
				    (he stops to look at her)
			    Your - your breaking this man's
			    neck -
				    (she is clearly disgusted)
			    would scarcely explain this note -
				    (glancing at the note)
			    Serious consequences for Mr. Kane -
				    (slowly)
			    for myself, and for my son.  What
			    does this note mean, Miss -

					    SUSAN
				    (stiffly)
			    I'm Susan Alexander.
				    (pauses)
			    I know what you think, Mrs. Kane,
			    but -

					    EMILY
				    (ignoring this)
			    What does this note mean, Miss
			    Alexander?

					    ROGERS
			    She doesn't know, Mrs. Kane.  She
			    just sent it - because I made her		
			    see it wouldn't be smart for her
			    not to send it.

					    KANE
			    In case you don't know, Emily, 
			    this - this gentleman -
				    (he puts a world of
				     scorn into the word)
			    is -

					    ROGERS
			    I'm not a gentleman, Mrs. Kane, 
			    and your husband is just trying
			    to be funny calling me one.  I don't
			    even know what a gentleman is.
				    (tensely, with all the
				     hatred and venom in the
			  	     world)
			    You see, my idea of a gentleman, Mrs.
			    Kane - well, if I owned a newspaper
		   	    and if I didn't like the way somebody
			    else was doing things - some politican,
			    say - I'd fight them with everything
			    I had.  Only I wouldn't show him in
			    a convict suit, with stripes - so his
			    children could see the picture in the
			    paper.  Or his mother.
				    (he has to control himself
				     from hurling himself at Kane)
			    It's pretty clear - I'm not a gentleman.

					    EMILY
			    Oh!!

					    KANE
			    You're a cheap, crooked grafter - 
			    and your concern for your children
			    and your mother -

					    ROGERS
			    Anything you say, Mr. Kane.  Only
			    we're talking now about what you
			    are.  That's what the note is about,
			    Mrs. Kane.  Now I'm going to lay
			    all my cards on the table.  I'm
			    fighting for my life.  Not just my
			    political life.  My life.  If your
			    husband is elected governor -

					    KANE
			    I'm going to be elected governor.
			    And the first thing I'm going to
		    	    do -

					    EMILY
			    Let him finish, Charles.

					    ROGERS
			    I'm protecting myself every way I
			    know how, Mrs. Kane.  This last
			    week, I finally found out how I can
			    stop your husband from being elected.
			    If the people of this state learn what
			    I found out this week, he wouldn't have
			    a chance to - he couldn't be elected
			    Dog Catcher.  Well, what I'm interested
			    in is seeing that he's not elected.  I
			    don't care whether they know what I
			    know about him.  Let him keep right on
			    being the Great, Noble, Moral -
				    (he stresses the world)
			    Champeen of the people.  Just as long
			    as -

					    EMILY
			    I think I understand, Mr. Rogers, but
			    I wonder if -
				    (she leaves her sentence
				     unfinished)

					    KANE
			    You can't blackmail me, Rogers, you
			    can't -

					    SUSAN
				    (excitedly)
			    Charlie, he said, unless you withdrew
			    your name -

					    ROGERS
			    That's the chance I'm willing to
			    give you, Mr. Kane.  More of a 
		   	    chance than you'd give me.  Unless
			    you make up your mind by tomorrow 
			    that you're so sick that you've got
			    to go away for a year or two -  Monday
			    morning every paper in this State
			    will carry the story I'm going to give
			    them.

Kane starts to stare at him intently.

					    EMILY
			    What story, Mr. Rogers?

					    ROGERS
			    The story about him and Miss Alexander,
			    Mrs. Kane.

Emily looks at Kane.

					    SUSAN
			    There is no story.  It's all lies.
			    Mr. Kane is just -

					    ROGERS
				    (to Susan)
			    Shut up!
				    (to Kane)
			    I've had a dozen men doing nothing
			    but run this thing down - we've got
			    evidence enough to - well, the
			    evidence would stand up in any court
			    of law.  You want me to give you the
		  	    evidence, Mr. Kane?

					    KANE
			    You do anything you want to do.
			    The people of this state can decide
			    which one of us to trust.  If you
			    want to know, they've already decided.
			    The election Tuesday'll be only -

					    ROGERS
			    Mrs. Kane, I'm not asking you to
			    believe me.  I'd like to show you -
		
					    EMILY
			    You don't have to show me anything,
			    Mr. Rogers.  I believe you.

					    ROGERS
			    I'd rather Mr. Kane withdrew without
			    having to get the story published.
			    Not that I care about him.  But I'd
			    be better off that way -
				    (he pauses)
			    - and so would you, Mrs. Kane.

					    SUSAN
			    What about me?
				    (to Kane)
			    He said my name'd be dragged through
			    the mud.  He said everywhere I'd go
			    from now on -

					    EMILY
			    There seems to be only one decision
			    you can make, Charles.  I'd say that
			    it has been made for you.
				    (pauses)
			    I suppose the details can be arranged
			    tomorrow, Mr. Rogers.  About the 
			    statements by the doctors -

					    KANE
			    Have you gone completely mad, Emily?

Emily looks at him.

					    KANE
			    You don't think I'm going to let
			    this blackmailer intimidate me,
			    do you?

					    EMILY
			    I don't see what else you can do,
			    Charles.  If he's right - and the
			    papers publish this story he has -

				 	    KANE
			    Oh, they'll publish it all right.
			    But that's not going to stop me -

					    EMILY
			    Charles, this - this story - doesn't
			    concern only you.  I'll be in it,
			    too, won't I?
				    (quickly)
			    And Junior?

					    KANE
				    (squirming a bit)
			    I suppose so, but - I'm not afraid
			    of the story.  You can't tell me
			    that the voters of this state -

					    EMILY
			    I'm not interested in the voters
			    of this state right now.  I am 
			    interested in - well, Junior, for
			    one thing.

					    SUSAN
			    Charlie!  If they publish this
		    	    story -

					    EMILY
			    They won't.  Goodnight, Mr. Rogers.
				    (she starts out)
			    There's nothing more to be said,	
			    Charles.

					    KANE
			    Oh yes, there is.

					    EMILY
			    I don't think so.  Are you coming,	
		  	    Charles?

					    KANE
			    No.

She looks at him.  He starts to work himself into a rage.

					    KANE
			    There's only one person in the
			    world to decide what I'm going
			    to do - and that's me.  And if 
			    you think - if any of you think -

					    EMILY
			    You decided what you were going
			    to do, Charles - some time ago.
				    (she looks at Susan)
			    You can't always have it your own
			    way, regardless of anything else
			    that may have happened.		
				    (she sighs)
			    Come on, Charles.

					    KANE
			    Go on!  Get out!  I can fight this
			    thing all alone!

					    ROGERS
			    You're making a bigger fool of
			    yourself than I thought you would,
			    Mr. Kane.  You're licked.  Why don't
			    you -

					    KANE
				    (turning on him)
			    Get out!  I've got nothing to talk
			    to you about.  If you want to see 
			    me, have the Warden write me a letter.

					    ROGERS
			    I see!
				    (he starts toward the door)

					    SUSAN
			    	    (starting to cry)
			    Charlie, you're just excited.  You
		  	    don't realize -

					    KANE
			    I know exactly what I'm doing.
				    (he is screaming)
			    Get out!

					    EMILY
				    (quietly)
			    Charles, if you don't listen to
			    reason, it may be too late -

					    KANE
			    Too late for what?  Too late for
			    you and this -
				    (he can't find the adjective)
			    this public thief to take the love
			    of the people of this state away
			    from me?  Well, you won't do it,
			    I tell you.  You won't do it!

					    SUSAN
			    Charlie, there are other things
			    to think of.
				    (a sly look comes into	
				     her eyes)
			    Your son - you don't want him to
			    read in the papers -

					    EMILY
			    It is too late now, Charles.

					    KANE
				    (rushes to the door
				     and opens it)
			    Get out, both of you!

					    SUSAN
				    (rushes to him)
			    Charlie, please don't -

					    KANE
			    What are you waiting here for?
			    Why don't you go?

					    EMILY
			    Goodnight, Charles.

She walks out.  Rogers stops as he gets directly in front of Kane.

					    ROGERS
			    You're the greatest fool I've 
			    ever known, Kane.  If it was
			    anybody else, I'd say what's 
			    going to happen to you would be
			    a lesson to you.  Only you're 
			    going to need more than one lesson.
			    And you're going to get more than
		 	    one lesson.
				    (he walks past Kane)

					    KANE
			    Don't you worry about me.  I'm
			    Charles Foster Kane.  I'm no cheap,
			    crooked politician, trying to save
			    himself from the consequences of 
			    his crimes -

INT. APARTMENT HOUSE HALLWAY - NIGHT - 1910

Camera angling toward Kane from other end of the hall.  Rogers and Emily are already down the hall, moving toward foreground.  Kane in apartment doorway background.

					    KANE
				    (screams louder)
			    I'm going to send you to Sing 
			    Sing, Rogers.  Sing Sing!

Kane is trembling with rage as he shakes his fist at Rogers's back.  Susan, quieter now, has snuggled into the hollow of his shoulder as they stand in the doorway.

DISSOLVE:

The "Chronicle" front page with photograph (as in the "News Digest") revealing Kane's relations with Susan.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

Front page of "Chronicle" - Headline which reads:

ROGERS ELECTED

DISSOLVE:

Front page of "Enquirer" - Headline which reads:

FRAUD AT POLLS

DISSOLVE:

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT - 1910

Emily is opening the door for Leland.

					    EMILY
			    Hello, Brad -

					    LELAND
			    Emily -

He pauses.  Leland comes in.  Emily closes the door.

					    EMILY
			    I'm sorry I sent for you, Brad -
			    I didn't -

					    LELAND
			    Chicago is pretty close to New
			    York nowadays - only twenty hours -

She doesn't have anything to say.

					    LELAND
			    I'm glad to see you.

She smiles at him and we know that there isn't anybody else in the world for her to smile at.  She's too grateful to talk.

					    EMILY
			    Are all the returns in?

Leland puts his hat unconsciously on his coat by the newspaper.

					    EMILY
			    Let me see it.

Leland takes the newspaper out of his pocket and hands it to her.  She takes it.  We see the headline, not an insert, but it registers.  It reads: "Fraud at Polls."  Emily is looking at the paper with unseeing eyes, and a little smile.

					    LELAND
				    (after a pause)
			    Almost two to one -

					    EMILY
			    I'm surprised he got the votes he
			    did.

					    LELAND
			    Emily!

					    EMILY
			    Why should anyone vote for him?
			    He's made it quite clear to the 
			    people what he thinks of them.  
			    Children - to be told one thing 
		 	    one day, something else the next,
			    as the whim seizes him.  And they're
		 	    supposed to be grateful and love
			    and adore him - because he sees to
			    it that they get cheap ice and only
			    pay a nickel in the street cars.

					    LELAND
			    Emily, you're being - a little 
			    unfair -  You know what I think of
			    Charles' behavior - about your
			    personal lives -

					    EMILY
			    There aren't any personal lives 
		  	    for people like us.  He made that
			    very clear to me nine years ago -
			    If I'd thought of my life with
			    Charles as a personal life, I'd
			    have left him then -

					    LELAND
			    I know that, Emily -

					    EMILY
				    (on top of Leland)
			    Maybe I should have - the first 
			    time he showed me what a mad dog
			    he really was.

					    LELAND
				    (on the cue "dog")
			    Emily, you -

					    EMILY
			    Brad, I'm -  I'm not an old woman
			    yet -

					    LELAND
			    It's - all over -

He stops himself.

					    EMILY
				    (after a pause)
			    I know it is, Brad -

					    LELAND
			    He's paying for it, Emily.  Those
			    returns tonight - he's finished.
			    Politically -
				    (he thinks)
			    - socially, everywhere, I guess.
			    I don't know about the papers, but -

					    EMILY
			    If you're asking me to sympathize
			    with him, Brad, you're wasting
			    your time.
				    (pauses)
			    There's only one person I'm sorry
			    for, as a matter of fact.  That -
			    that shabby little girl.  I'm really
			    sorry for her, Brad.

DISSOLVE:

Front page Chicago "Enquirer," with photograph proclaiming that Susan Alexander opens at new Chicago Opera House in "Thais," as in "News Digest."

On soundtrack during above we hear the big, expectant murmur of an opening night audience and the noodling of the orchestra.

DISSOLVE:

INT. CHICAGO OPERA HOUSE - NIGHT - SET FOR "THAIS" - 1914

The camera is just inside the curtain, angling upstage.  We see the set for "Thais" - the principals in place - stage managers, stage hands, etc., and in the center of all this, in an elaborate costume, looking very small and very lost, is Susan.  She is almost hysterical with fright.  Maids, singing teacher, and the rest are in attendance.  Her throat is sprayed.  Applause is heard at the opening of the shot, and now the orchestra starts thunderously.  The curtain starts to rise - the camera with it - the blinding glare of the foots moves up Susan's body and hits her face.  She squints and starts to sing.  Camera continues on up with the curtain, up past Susan, up the full height of the proscenium arch and then on up into the gridiron into a world of ropes, brick walls and hanging canvas - Susan's voice still heard - but faintly.  The camera stops at the top of the gridiron as the curtain stops.  Two typical stage hands fill the frame.  They are looking down on the stage below.  Some of the reflected light gleams on their faces.  They look at each other.  One of them puts his hand to his nose.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914

Leland, as in the same scene in the Bernstein sequence, is sprawled across his typewriter, his head on the keys.  The paper is gone from the roller.  Leland stirs and looks up drunkenly, his eyes encountering Bernstein, who stands beside him (also as in the previous scene).

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Hello, Mr. Leland.

					    LELAND
			    Hello, Bernstein.

Leland makes a terrific effort to pull himself together.  He straightens and reaches for the keys - then sees the paper is gone from the machine.

					    LELAND
			    Where is it - where's my notice?
			    I've got to finish it!

					    BERNSTEIN
			    	    (quietly)
			    Mr. Kane is finishing it.

					    LELAND
			    Kane?  Charlie?
				    (painfully, he rises
				     to his feet)
			    Where is he?

During all this, the sound of a typewriter has been heard off - a busy typewriter.  Leland's eyes follow the sound.  Slowly he registers Kane in the City Room beyond.  This is almost the same shot as in the previous Bernstein story.

INT. CITY ROOM - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914

Kane, in white tie and shirt sleeves, is typing away at a machine, his fingers working briskly and efficiently, his face, seen by the desk light before him, set in a strange half-smile.

Leland stands in the door of his office, staring across at him.

					    LELAND
			    I suppose he's fixing it up - I
			    know I'd never get that through.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (moving to his side)
			    Mr. Kane is finishing your piece
			    the way you started it.

Leland turns incredulously to Bernstein.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    He's writing a roast like you wanted
			    it to be -
				    (then suddnely - with a
				     kind of quiet passion
			 	     rather than a triumph)
			    - I guess that'll show you.

Leland picks his way across the City Room to Kane's side.  Kane goes on typing, without looking up.  After a pause, Kane speaks.

					    KANE
			    Hello, Brad.

					    LELAND
			    Hello, Charlie -
				    (another pause)
			    I didn't know we were speaking.

Kane stops typing, but doesn't turn.

					    KANE
			    Sure, we're speaking, Brad -
			    you're fired.

He starts typing again, the expression on his face doesn't change.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

EXT. HOSPITAL ROOF - DAY - 1940

Thompson and Leland on the roof, which is now deserted.  It is getting late.  The sun has just about gone down.

					    LELAND
			    Well, that's about all there is -
			    and I'm getting chills.  Hey, nurse!
				    (pause)
			    Five years ago, he wrote from that
			    place of his down South -
				    (as if trying to think)
			    - you know.  Shangri-la?  El Dorado?
			    	    (pauses)	
			    Sloppy Joe's?  What's the name of 
			    that place?  You know...  All right.
			    Xanadu.  I knew what it was all the
			    time.  You caught on, didn't you?

					    THOMPSON
			    Yes.

					    LELAND
			    I guess maybe I'm not as hard to
			    see through as I think.  Anyway, I
			    never even answered his letter.  
			    Maybe I should have.  I guess he was
			    pretty lonely down there those last
			    years.  He hadn't finished it when
			    she left him - he never finished it -
			    he never finished anything.  Of course,
			    he built it for her -

					    THOMPSON
			    That must have been love.

					    LELAND
			    I don't know.  He was disappointed in
			    the world.  So he built one of his
			    own -  An absolute monarchy -  It was
			    something bigger than an opera house
			    anyway -
				    (calls)
			    Nurse!  
				    (lowers his voice)
			    Say, I'll tell you one thing you can
			    do for me, young fellow.

					    THOMPSON
			    Sure.

					    LELAND
			    On your way out, stop at a cigar 
			    store, will you, and send me up a
			    couple of cigars?

					    THOMPSON
			    Sure, Mr. Leland.  I'll be glad to.

					    LELAND
			    Hey, Nurse!

A Nurse appears.

					    NURSE
			    Hello, Mr. Leland.

					    LELAND
			    I'm ready to go in now.  You know
			    when I was a young man, there was
			    an impression around that nurses
			    were pretty.  It was no truer then
			    than it is now.

					    NURSE
			    Here, let me take your arm, Mr. Leland.

					    LELAND
				    (testily)
			    All right, all right.
				    (he has begun to move
				     forward on the Nurse's
			  	     arm; turning to Thompson)
			    You won't forget, will you, about
			    the cigars?  And tell them to wrap
			    them up to look like toothpaste, 
			    or something, or they'll stop them
			    at the desk.  That young doctor I
			    was telling you about, he's got an
			    idea he wants to keep me alive.

DISSOLVE:

EXT. "EL RANCHO" CABARET IN ATLANTIC CITY - EARLY DAWN - 1940

Neon sign on the roof:

"EL RANCHO"
FLOOR SHOW
SUSAN ALEXANDER KANE
TWICE NIGHTLY

glows on the dark screen as in the previous sequence earlier in the script.  Behind the lights and through them, we see a nasty early morning.  Camera as before, moves through the lights of the sign and down on the skylight, through which is seen Susan at her regular table,  Thompson seated across from her. 

Very faintly during this, idle piano music playing.

DISSOLVE:

INT. "EL RANCHO" CABARET - EARLY DAWN - 1940

Susan and Thompson are facing each other.  The place is almost deserted.  Susan is sober.  On the other side of the room, somebody is playing a piano.

					    SUSAN
			    How do you want to handle the whole
			    thing - ask questions?

					    THOMPSON
			    I'd rather you just talked.  Anything
			    that comes into your mind - about
			    yourself and Mr. Kane.

					    SUSAN
			    You wouldn't want to hear a lot of
			    what comes into my mind about myself
			    and Mr. Charlie Kane.

Susan is thinking.

					    THOMPSON
			    How did you meet him?

					    SUSAN
			    I had a toothache.

Thompson looks at her.

					    SUSAN
			    That was thiry years ago - and I
			    still remember that toothache. 
			    Boy!  That toothache was just
			    driving me crazy...

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

EXT. CORNER DRUG STORE AND STREET ON THE WEST SIDE OF NEW YORK - NIGHT - 1909

Susan, aged twenty, neatly but cheaply dressed in the style of the period, is leaving the drug store.  It's about 8 o'clock at night.  With a large, man-sized handkerchief pressed to her cheek, she is in considerable pain.  The street is wet - after a recent rain.

She walks a few steps towards the middle of the block, and can stand it no longer.  She stops, opens a bottle of Oil of Cloves that she has in her hand, applies some to her finger, and rubs her gums.

She walks on, the pain only a bit better.  Four or five houses farther along, she comes to what is clearly her own doorway - a shabby, old four-story apartment house.  She turns toward the doorway, which is up a tiny stoop, about three steps.

As she does so, Kane, coming from the opposite direction, almost bumps into her and turns to his left to avoid her.  His shoulder bumps hers and she turns.  As she does so, Kane, forced to change his course, steps on the loose end of a plank which covers a puddle in the bad sidewalk.  The plank rises up and cracks him on the knee, also covering him with mud.

					    KANE
				    (hopping up and down
				     and rubbing his knee)
			    Ow!

Susan, taking her handkerchief from her jaw, roars with laughter.

					    KANE
			    It's not funny.

He bites his lip and rubs his knee again.  Susan tries to control her laughter, but not very successfully.  Kane glares at her.

					    SUSAN
			    I'm sorry, mister - but you do
			    look awful funny.

Suddenly, the pain returns and she claps her hand to her jaw.

					    SUSAN
			    Ow!

					    KANE
			    What's the matter with you?

				 	    SUSAN
			    Toothache.

					    KANE
			    Hmm!

He has been rubbing his clothes with his handkerchief.

					    SUSAN
			    You've got some on your face.

					    KANE
			    If these sidewalks were kept in
			    condition - instead of the money
			    going to some cheap grafter -

Susan starts to laugh again. 

					    KANE
			    What's funny now?

					    SUSAN
			    You are.  You look like you've
		  	    been making mud pies.

In the middle of her smile, the pain returns.

					    SUSAN
			    Oh!

					    KANE
			    You're no Venus de Milo.

					    SUSAN
			    	    (points to the downstair
				     window)
			    If you want to come in and wash 
			    your face -  I can get you some
			    hot water to get that dirt off
			    your trousers -

					    KANE
			    Thanks.

Susan starts, with Kane following her.

DISSOLVE:

INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - NIGHT - 1909

It's in moderate disorder.  The Mansbach gas lights are on.  It's not really a classy room, but it's exactly what you're entitled to in 1910, for $5.00 a week including breakfast.

There is a bed, a couple of chairs, a chiffonier, and a few personal belongings on the chiffonier.  These include a photograph of a gent and lady, obviously Susan's parents, and a few objets d'art.  One, "At the Japanese Rolling Ball Game at Coney Island," and - perhaps this is part of the Japanese loot - the glass globe with the snow scene Kane was holding in his hand in the first sequence.

Susan comes into the room, carrying a basin, with towels over her arm.  Kane is waiting for her.  She doesn't close the door.

				   	    SUSAN
			    	    (by way of explanation)
			    My landlady prefers me to keep
			    this door open when I have a 
			    gentleman caller.
				    (starts to put the basin down)
			    She's a very decent woman.
				    (making a face)
			    Ow!

Kane rushes to take the basin from her, putting it on the chiffonier.  To do this, he has to shove the photograph to one side of the basin.  Susan grabs the photograph as it is about to fall over.

					    SUSAN
			    Hey, you should be more careful.
			    That's my ma and pa.

					    KANE
			    I'm sorry.  They live here, too?

					    SUSAN
			    No.  They've passed on.

Again she puts her hand to her jaw.

					    KANE
			    Where's the soap?

					    SUSAN
			    In the water.

Kane fishes the soap out of the water.  It is slippery, however, and slips out of his hand, hitting him in the chest before it falls to the floor.  Susan laughs as he bends over.

					    KANE
				    (starting to wash 
				     his hands)
			    You're very easily amused.

					    SUSAN
			    I always like to see the funny
			    side of things.  No sense crying
			    when you don't have to.  And you're
			    so funny.  Looking at you, I forget
			    all about my toothache.

Her face distorts in pain again.

					    SUSAN
			    Oh!

					    KANE
			    I can't stay here all night chasing
			    your pain away.

					    SUSAN
				    (laughs)
			    I know...  But you do look so silly.

Kane, with soaped hands, has rubbed his face and now cannot open his eyes, for fear of getting soap in them.

					    KANE
			    Where's the towel?

					    SUSAN
			    On the chiffonier.  Here.

					    KANE
			    	    (rubs his face dry)
			    Thanks.

					    SUSAN
				    (on her way to closet)
			    I've got a brush in the closet.  As
			    soon as the mud on your trousers is
			    all dry - you just brush it off.

					    KANE
			    I'll get these streets fixed, if
			    it's the last thing I do.

Susan comes out of the closet.  She holds out the brush with her left hand, her right hand to her jaw in real distress.

					    KANE
			    	    (takes the brush)
			    You are in pain, aren't you, you
			    poor kid?

Susan can't stand it anymore and sits down in a chair, bent over, whimpering a bit.

					    KANE
				    (brushing himself)
			    I wish there was something I could -

He stops and thinks.  Susan, her face averted, is still trying hard not to cry.

					    KANE
			    I've got an idea, young lady.
				    (there is no response)
			    Turn around and look at me.
				    (there is still no response)
			    I said, turn around and look at
			    me, young lady.

Slowly, Susan turns.

					    KANE
			    Did you ever see anybody wiggle
			    both his ears at the same time?

It takes a second for Susan to adapt herself to this.

					    KANE
			    Watch closely!
				    (he wiggles his ears)
			    It took me two solid years at the
			    finest boys' school in the world
			    to learn that trick.  The fellow
			    who taught me is President of 
			    Venezuela now.

He's still wiggling his ears as Susan starts to smile.

					    KANE
			    That's it!  Smile!

Susan smiles, very broadly.

DISSOLVE:

INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - NIGHT - 1910

Closeup of a duck, camera pulls back showing it to be a shadowgraph on the wall, made by Kane, who is now in his shirt sleeves.  It is about an hour later than preceding sequence.

					    SUSAN
				    (hesitatingly)
			    A chicken?

					    KANE
			    No.  But you're close.

					    SUSAN
			    A rooster?

					    KANE
			    You're getting farther away all
			    the time.  It's a duck.

					    SUSAN
			    Excuse me, Mr. Kane.  I know this
			    takes a lot of nerve, but - who are
			    you?  I mean - I'm pretty ignorant,
			    I guess you caught on to that -

					    KANE
			    	    (looks squarely at her)
			    You really don't know who I am?

					    SUSAN
			    No.  That is, I bet it turns out
		  	    I've heard your name a million times,
			    only you know how it is -

					    KANE
			    But you like me, don't you?  Even
			    though you don't know who I am?

					    SUSAN
			    You've been wonderful!  I can't tell
			    you how glad I am you're here, I don't
			    know many people and -
				    (she stops)

					    KANE
			    And I know too many people.  Obviously,
			    we're both lonely.
				    (he smiles)
			    Would you like to know where I was
			    going tonight - when you ran into me
			    and ruined my Sunday clothes?

					    SUSAN
			    I didn't run into you and I bet 
			    they're not your Sunday clothes. 
			    You've probably got a lot of clothes.

					    KANE
				    (as if defending himself
				     from a terrible onslaught)
			    I was only joking!
				    (pauses)
			    This evening I was on my way to
			    the Western Manhattan Warehouses -
			    in search of my youth.

Susan is bewildered.

					    KANE
			    You see, my mother died, too - a
			    long time ago.  Her things were 
			    put into storage out west because
			    I had no place to put them then.
			    I still haven't.  But now I've sent
			    for them just the same.  And tonight
			    I'd planned to make a sort of 
			    sentimental journey -
				    (slowly)
			    - to the scenes of my youth - my 
			    childhood, I suppose - to look again
			    at -
				    (he changes mood slightly)
			    - and now -

Kane doesn't finish.  He looks at Susan.  Silence.
					    
					    KANE
			    Who am I?  Well, let's see.  Charles
			    Foster Kane was born in New Salem,
			    Colorado in eighteen six -
				    (he stops on the word 
				     "sixty" - obviously a
				     little embarrassed)
 			    I run a couple of newspapers.  How
			    about you?

					    SUSAN
			    Oh, me -

					    KANE
			    How old did you say you were?

					    SUSAN
				    (very bright)
			    I didn't say.

					    KANE
			    I didn't think you did.  If you
			    had, I wouldn't have asked you 
			    again, because I'd have remembered. 
			    How old?

					    SUSAN
			    Pretty old.  I'll be twenty-two in
			    August.

					    KANE
				    (looks at her silently
				     for a moment)
			    That's a ripe old age -  What do 
			    you do?

					    SUSAN
			    I work at Seligman's.

					    KANE
			    Is that what you want to do?

					    SUSAN
			    I want to be a singer.
				    (she thinks for a moment)
			    I mean, I didn't.  Mother did for
			    me.

					    KANE
				    (sympathetically)
			    What happened to the singing?
			    You're not in a show, are you?

					    SUSAN
			    Oh, no!  Nothing like that.  Mother
			    always thought - she used to talk
			    about Grand Opera for me.  Imagine!
			    An American girl, for one thing - 
			    and then my voice isn't really that
			    kind anyway, it's just that Mother -
			    you know what mothers are like.

A sudden look comes over Kane's face. 

					    KANE
			    Yes -
		
					    SUSAN
			    As a matter of fact, I do sing a 
			    little.

					    KANE
				    (points to the piano)		
			    Would you sing for me?

					    SUSAN
				    (bashful)
			    Oh, you wouldn't want to hear 
			    me sing.

					    KANE
			    Yes, I would.  That's why I asked.

					    SUSAN
			    Well, I -

					    KANE
			    Don't tell me your toothache is
			    bothering you again?

					    SUSAN
			    Oh, no, that's all gone.

					    KANE
			    Then you have no alibi at all.  
			    Please sing.

Susan, with a tiny ladylike hesitancy, goes to the piano and sings a polite song.  Sweetly, nicely, she sings with a small, untrained voice.  Kane listens.  He is relaxed, at ease with the world.

DISSOLVE:

INT. "EL RANCHO" CABARET - EARLY DAWN - 1940

Susan tosses down a drink, then goes on with her story.

					    SUSAN
			    I did a lot of singing after that.
			    I sang for Charlie -  I sang for
			    teachers at a hundred bucks an
			    hour - the teachers got that, I
			    didn't -

					    THOMPSON
			    What did you get?

					    SUSAN
				    (glares at him balefully)
			    What do you mean?

Thompson doesn't answer.

					    SUSAN
			    I didn't get a thing.  Just the
			    music lessons.  That's all there
			    was to it.

					    THOMPSON
			    He married you, didn't he?

					    SUSAN
			    He was in love with me.  But he
			    never told me so until after it
			    all came out in the papers about
			    us - and he lost the election and
			    that Norton woman divorced him.

					    THOMPSON
			    What about that apartment?

					    SUSAN
			    He wanted me to be comfortable -
			    Oh, why should I bother?  You don't
			    believe me, but it's true.  It just
			    happens to be true.  He was really
			    interested in my voice.
				    (sharply)
			    What are you smiling for?  What do
			    you think he built that opera house
			    for?  I didn't want it.  I didn't
			    want to sing.  It was his idea - 
			    everything was his idea - except my
			    leaving him.

DISSOLVE:

INT. LIVING ROOM OF KANE'S HOUSE IN NEW YORK - DAY - 1913

Susan is singing.  Matisti, her voice teacher, is playing the piano.  Kane is seated nearby.  Matisti stops.

					    MATISTI
			    Impossible!  Impossible!

					    KANE
			    Your job isn't to give Mrs. Kane
			    your opinion of her talents. 
			    You're supposed to train her voice.
			    Nothing more.

					    MATISTI
				    (sweating)
			    But, it is impossible.  I will be
			    the laughingstock of the musical
			    world!  People will say -

					    KANE
			    If you're interested in what people
			    say, Signor Matisti, I may be able
			    to enlighten you a bit.  The
			    newspapers, for instance.  I'm an
			    authority on what the papers will
			    say, Signor Matisti, because I own
			    eight of them between here and San
			    Francisco...  It's all right, dear.
			    Signor Matisti is going to listen to
			    reason.  Aren't you, maestro?
				    (he looks him square
				     in the eyes)
			    
					    MATISTI
			    Mr. Kane, how can I persuade you -

					    KANE
			    You can't.

There is a silence.  Matisti rises.

					    KANE
			    I knew you'd see it my way.

DISSOLVE:

INT. CHICAGO OPERA HOUSE - NIGHT - 1914

It is the same opening night - it is the same moment as before - except taht the camera is now upstage angling toward the audience.  The curtain is down.  We see the same tableau as before - the terrified and trembling Susan, the apprehensive principals, the maids and singing teachers, the stage hands.  As the dissolve commences, there is the sound of applause (exactly as before) and now as the dissolve completes itself, the orchestra breaks frighteningly into opening chords of the music - the stage is cleared - Susan is left alone, terribly alone.  The curtain rises.  The glare of the footlights jump into the image.  The curtain is now out of the picture and Susan starts to sing.  Beyond her, we see the prompter's box, containing the anxious face of the prompter.  Beyond that, out in the darkness - an apprehensive conductor struggles with his task of coordinating an orchestra and an incompetent singer.  Beyond that - dimly white shirt fronts and glistening bosoms for a couple of rows, and then deep and terrible darkness.

Closeup of Kane's face - seated in the audience - listening.

A sudden but perfectly correct lull in the music reveals a voice from the audience - a few words from a sentence - the kind of thing that often happens in a theatre -

					    THE VOICE
			    - really pathetic.

Music crashes in and drowns out the rest of the sentence, but hundreds of people around the voice have heard it (as well as Kane) and there are titters which grow in volume.

Closeup of Susan's face - singing.

Closeup of Kane's face - listening.

There is the ghastly sound of three thousand people applauding as little as possible.  Kane still looks.  Then, near the camera, there is the sound of about a dozen people applauding very, very loudly.  Camera moves back, revealing Bernstein and Reilly and other Kane stooges, seated around him, beating their palms together.  The curtain is falling - as we can see by the light which shutters down off their faces.

The stage from Kane's angle.

The curtain is down - the lights glowing on it.  Still, the polite applause dying fast.  Nobody comes out for a bow.

Closeup of Kane - breathing heavily.  Suddenly he starts to applaud furiously.

The stage from the audience again.

Susan appears for her bow.  She can hardly walk.  There is a little polite crescendo of applause, but it is sickly.

Closeup of Kane - still applauding very, very hard, his eyes on Susan.

The stage again.

Susan, finishing her bow, goes out through the curtains.  The light on the curtain goes out and the houselights go on.

Closeup of Kane - still applauding very, very hard.

DISSOLVE:

INT. STUDY - KANE'S NEW YORK HOME - DAY - 1914

Some weeks later.  Susan, in a negligee, is at the window.  There are the remains of her breakfast tray on a little table.

					    SUSAN
			    You don't propose to have yourself
			    made ridiculous?  What about me?
			    I'm the one that has to do the singing.
			    I'm the one that gets the razzberries.
			    	    (pauses)
			    Last week, when I was shopping, one
			    of the salesgirls did an imitation of
			    me for another girl.  She thought I
			    didn't see her, but -  Charlie, you
			    might as well make up your mind to it.	
			    This is one thing you're not going to	
			    have your own way about.  I can't sing
			    and you know it -  Why can't you just -

Kane rises and walks toward her.  There is cold menace in his walk.  Susan shrinks a little as he draws closer to her.

					    KANE
			    My reasons satisfy me, Susan.  You
			    seem unable to understand them.  I
			    will not tell them to you again.
				    (he is very close to her)
			    You will continue with your singing.

His eyes are relentlessly upon her.  She sees something in them that frightens her.  She nods her head slowly, indicating surrender.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

Front page of the "San Francisco Enquirer" containing a large portrait of Susan as Thais (as before).  It is announced that Susan will open an independent season in San Francisco in "Thais."  The picture remains constant but the names of the papers change from New York to St. Louis, to Los Angeles to Cleveland, to Denver to Philadelphia - all "Enquirers."

During all this, on the soundtrack, Susan's voice is heard singing her aria very faintly and far away, her voice cracking a little.

At the conclusion of this above, Susan has finished her song, and there is the same mild applause as before - over the sound of this, one man loudly applauding.  This fades out as we -

DISSOLVE:

INT. SUSAN'S BEDROOM - KANE'S NEW YORK HOME - LATE NIGHT - 1916

The camera angles across the bed and Susan's form towards the door, from the other side of which voices can be heard.

					    KANE'S VOICE
			    Let's have your keys, Raymond.

					    RAYMOND'S VOICE
			    Yes, sir.

					    KANE'S VOICE
			    The key must be in the other side.
				    (pause)
			    We'll knock the door down, Raymond.

					    RAYMOND'S VOICE
				    (calling)
			    Mrs. Kane - 

					    KANE'S VOICE
			    Do what I say.

The door crashes open, light floods in the room, revealing Susan, fully dressed, stretched out on the bed, one arm dangling over the side.  Kane rushes to her.

					    KANE
			    Get Dr. Corey.

					    RAYMOND
			    Yes, sir.

He rushes out.  Susan is breathing, but heavily.  Kane loosens the lace collar at her throat.

DISSOLVE:

INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - LATE NIGHT - 1916

A little later.  All the lights are lit.  Susan, in a nightgown, is in bed, asleep.  Raymond and a nurse are just leaving the room, Raymond closing the door quietly behind him.  Dr. Corey rises.

					    DR. COREY
			    She'll be perfectly all right 
			    in a day or two, Mr. Kane.

Kane nods.  He has a smal bottle in his hand.

					    DR. COREY
			    The nurse has complete instructions,
			    but if you care to talk to me at any
			    time, I should be only too glad -  I
			    shall be here in the morning.

					    KANE
			    Thank you.  I can't imagine how
			    Mrs. Kane came to make such a silly
			    mistake.  The sedative Dr. Wagner 
			    gave her is in a somewhat larger
			    bottle -  I suppose the strain of 
			    preparing for her trip has excited
			    and confused her.

					    DR. COREY
			    I'm sure that's it.  
				    (he starts out)

					    KANE
			    There are no objections to my 
			    staying here with her, are there?

					    DR. COREY
			    Not at all.  I'd like the nurse
			    to be here, too.

					    KANE
			    Of course.

Dr. Corey leaves.  Kane settles himself in a chair next to the bed, looking at Susan.  In a moment, the nurse enters, goes to a chair in the corner of the room, and sits down.

DISSOLVE:

INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - DAY - 1916

Susan, utterly spent, is lying flat on her back in her bed.  Kane is in the chair beside her.  The nurse is out of the room.

					    SUSAN
			 	    (in a voice that comes
				     from far away)
			    I couldn't make you see how I felt,
			    Charlie.  I just couldn't -  I 
			    couldn't go threw with singing again.
			    You don't know what it means to feel -
			    to know that people - that an audience
			    don't want you.  That if you haven't
			    got what they want - a real voice - 
			    they just don't care about you.  Even
			    when they're polite - and they don't 
			    laugh or get restless or - you know...
			    They don't want you.  They just 0

					    KANE
			    	    (angrily)
			    That's when you've got to fight them.
			    That's when you've got to make them.
			    That's -

Susan's head turns and she looks at him silently with pathetic eyes.

					    KANE
			    I'm sorry.
			 	    (he leans over to 
				     pat her hand)
			    You won't have to fight them anymore.
				    (he smiles a little)
			    It's their loss.

Gratefully, Susan, with difficulty, brings her other hand over to cover his.

DISSOLVE:

EXT. ESTABLISHING SHOT OF XANADU - HALF BUILT

INT. THE GRAND HALL IN XANADU - 1925

Closeup of an enormous jigsaw puzzle.  A hand is putting in the last piece.  Camera moves back to reveal jigsaw puzzle spread out on the floor.

Susan is on the floor before her jigsaw puzzle.  Kane is in an easy chair.  Behind them towers the massive Renaissance fireplace.  It is night and Baroque candelabra illuminates the scene.

					    SUSAN
				    (with a sigh)
			    What time is it?

There is no answer.

					    SUSAN
			    Charlie!  I said, what time is it?

					    KANE
			    	    (looks up - consults
				     his watch)
			    Half past eleven.

					    SUSAN
			    I mean in New York.

					    KANE
			    Half past eleven.

					    SUSAN
			    At night?

					    KANE
			    Yes.  The bulldog's just gone to
			    press.

					    SUSAN
				    (sarcastically)
			    Hurray for the bulldog!
				    (sighs)
			    Half past eleven!  The shows have 
			    just let out.  People are going to
			    night clubs and restaurants.  Of
			    course, we're different.  We live in
			    a palace - at the end of the world.

					    KANE
			    You always said you wanted to live
			    in a palace.

					    SUSAN
			    Can't we go back, Charlie?

Kane looks at her smilingly and turns back to his work.

					    SUSAN
			    Charlie -

There is no answer.  

					    SUSAN
			    If I promise to be a good girl!
			    Not to drink - and to entertain
			    all the governors and the senators
			    with dignity -
				    (she puts a slur into the word)
			    Charlie -

There is still no answer.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

Another picture puzzle - Susan's hands fitting in a missing piece.

DISSOLVE:

Another picture puzzle - Susan's hands fitting in a missing piece.

DISSOLVE:

INT. XANADU - LIVING ROOM - DAY - 1928

Another picture puzzle.

Camera pulls back to show Kane and Susan in much the same positions as before, except that they are older.

					    KANE
			    One thing I've never been able
			    to understand, Susan.  How do 
			    you know you haven't done them
			    before?

Susan shoots him an angry glance.  She isn't amused.

					    SUSAN
			    It makes a whole lot more sense 
			    than collecting Venuses.

					    KANE
			    You may be right -  I sometimes 
			    wonder - but you get into the 
			    habit -

					    SUSAN
				    (snapping)
			    It's not a habit.  I do it because
			    I like it.

					    KANE
			    I was referring to myself.
				    (pauses)
			    I thought we might have a picnic
			    tomorrow - it might be a nice 
			    change after the Wild West party
			    tonight.  Invite everybody to go
			    to the Everglades -

					    SUSAN
				    (throws down a piece of the
				     jigsaw puzzle and rises)
			    Invite everybody!  Order everybody,
			    you mean, and make them sleep in 
			    tents!  Who wants to sleep in tents
			    when they have a nice room of their
			    own - with their own bath, where they
			    know where everything is?

Kane has looked at her steadily, not hostilely.

					    KANE
			    I thought we might invite everybody
			    to go on a picnic tomorrow.  Stay 
			    at Everglades overnight.  
				    (he pats her lightly on
				     the shoulder)
			    Please see that the arrangements are	
			    made, Susan.

Kane turns away - to Bernstein.

					    KANE
			    You remember my son, Mr. Bernstein.

On the soundtrack we hear the following lines of dialogue:

					    BERNSTEIN'S 
					    VOICE
				    (embarrased)
			    Oh, yes.  How do you do, Mr. Kane?

					    CHARLIE JR.'S
					    VOICE
			    Hello.

During this, camera holds on closeup of Susan's face.  She is very angry.

DISSOLVE:

EXT. THE EVERGLADES CAMP - NIGHT - 1928

Long shot - of a number of classy tents.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. LARGE TENT - EVERGLADES CAMP - NIGHT - 1928

Two real beds have been set up on each side of the tent.  A rather classy dressing table is in the rear, at which Susan is preparing for bed.  Kane, in his shirt-sleeves, is in an easy chair, reading.  Susan is very sullen.

					    SUSAN
			    I'm not going to put up with it.

Kane turns to look at her.

					    SUSAN
			    I mean it.
				    (she catches a slight
				     flicker on Kane's face)
			    Oh, I know I always say I mean it,
			    and then I don't - or you get me so	
			    I don't do what I say I'm going to -
			    but -

					    KANE
			    	    (interrupting)
			    You're in a tent, darling.  You're
			    not at home.  And I can hear you 
			    very well if you just talk in a 
			    normal tone of voice.

					    SUSAN
			    I'm not going to have my guests
			    insulted, just because you think -
				    (in a rage)
			    - if people want to bring a drink
			    or two along on a picnic, that's
			    their business.  You've got no right -

					    KANE
			 	    (quickly)
			    I've got more than a right as far
			    as you're concerned, Susan.

					    SUSAN
			    Oh, I'm sick and tired of you 
			    telling me what I must and what I	
			    musn't do!

					    KANE
				    (gently)
			    You're my wife, Susan, and -

					    SUSAN
			    I'm not just your wife, I'm a 
			    person all by myself - or I ought
			    to be.  I was once.  Sometimes you
			    get me to believing I never was.

					    KANE
			    We can discuss all this some other
			    time, Susan.  Right now -

					    SUSAN
			    I'll discuss what's on my mind when
			    I want to.  You're not going to keep
			    on running my life the way you want it.

					    KANE
			    As far as you're concerned, Susan, 
			    I've never wanted anything -  I don't
			    want anything now - except what you
			    want.

					    SUSAN
			    What you want me to want, you mean.
			    What you've decided I ought to have
			    - what you'd want if you were me.
			    But you've never given me anything
			    that -

					    KANE
			    Susan, I really think -

					    SUSAN
			    Oh, I don't mean the things you've
			    given me - that don't mean anything
			    to you.  What's the difference	
			    between giving me a bracelet or 
			    giving somebody else a hundred thousand
			    dollars for a statue you're going to
			    keep crated up and never look at?  It's
			    only money.  It doesn't mean anything.
			    You're not really giving anything that
			    belongs to you, that you care about.

					    KANE
				    (he has risen)
			    Susan, I want you to stop this.
			    And right now!

					    SUSAN
			    Well, I'm not going to stop it.  I'm
			    going to say exactly what I think.
				    (she screams)
			    You've never given me anything.  You've
			    tried to buy me into giving you 
			    something.  You're -
				    (a sudden notion)
			    - it's like you were bribing me!  That's
			    what it's been from the first moment I
			    met you.  No matter how much it cost
			    you - your time, your money - that's
			    what you've done with everybody you've
			    ever known.  Tried to bribe them!

					    KANE
			    Susan!

She looks at him, with no lessening of her passion.

					    KANE
			    You're talking an incredible amount
			    of nonsense, Susan.
				    (quietly)
			    Whatever I do -  I do - because I
			    love you.

					    SUSAN
			    Love!  You don't love anybody!  Me
			    or anybody else!  You want to be
			    loved - that's all you want!  I'm
			    Charles Foster Kane.  Whatever you
			    want - just name it and it's yours!
			    Only love me!  Don't expect me to 
			    love you -

Without a word, Kane slaps her across the face.  They look at each other.

					    SUSAN
			    You - you hit me.

Kane continues to look at her.

					    SUSAN
			    You'll never have another chance to
			    hit me again.  
				    (pauses)
			    I never knew till this minute -

					    KANE
			    Susan, it seems to me -

					    SUSAN
			    Don't tell me you're sorry.

					    KANE
			    I'm not sorry.

					    SUSAN
			    I'm going to leave you.

					    KANE
			    No, you're not.

					    SUSAN
				    (nods)
			    Yes.

They look at each other, fixedly, but she doesn't give way.  In fact, the camera on Kane's face shows the beginning of a startled look, as of one who sees something unfamiliar and unbelievable.

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S STUDY - XANADU - DAY - 1929

Kane is a the window looking out.  He turns as he hears Raymond enter.

					    RAYMOND
			    Mrs. Kane would like to see you,
			    Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    All right.

Raymond waits as Kane hesitates.

					    KANE
			    Is Mrs. Kane -
				    (he can't finish)

					    RAYMOND
			    Marie has been packing since morning,
			    Mr. Kane.

Kane impetuously walks past him out of the room.

INT. SUSAN'S ROOM - XANADU - DAY - 1929

Packed suitcases are on the floor, Susan is completely dressed for travelling.  Kane bursts into the room.

					    SUSAN
			    Tell Arnold I'm ready, Marie.  He
			    can get the bags.

					    MARIE
			    Yes, Mrs. Kane.

She leaves.  Kane closes the door behind her.

					    KANE
			    Have you gone completely crazy?

Susan looks at him.

					    KANE
			    Don't you realize that everybody
			    here is going to know about this?
			    That you've packed your bags and
			    ordered the car and -

					    SUSAN
			    - And left?  Of course they'll 
			    hear.  I'm not saying goodbye -
			    except to you - but I never 
			    imagined that people wouldn't know.

Kane is standing against the door as if physically barring her way.

					    KANE
			    I won't let you go.

					    SUSAN
			    You can't stop me.

Kane keeps looking at her.  Susan reaches out her hand.

					    SUSAN
			    Goodbye, Charlie.

					    KANE
				    (suddenly)
			    Don't go, Susan.

					    SUSAN
			    Let's not start all over again,
			    Charlie.  We've said everything
			    that can be said.

					    KANE
			    Susan, don't go!  Susan, please! 

He has lost all pride.  Susan stops.  She is affected by this.

					    KANE
			    You mustn't go, Susan.  Everything'll
			    be exactly the way you want it.  Not
			    the way I think you want it - by your
			    way.  Please, Susan - Susan!

She is staring at him.  She might weaken.

					    KANE
			    Don't go, Susan!  You mustn't go!
				    (almost blubbering)
			    You - you can't do this to me, 
		  	    Susan -

It's as if he had thrown ice water into her face.  She freezes.

					    SUSAN
			    I see - it's you that this is 
			    being done to!  It's not me at	
			    all.  Not how I feel.  Not what
			    it means to me. 
				    (she laughs)
			    I can't do this to you!
				    (she looks at him)
			    Oh, yes I can.

She walks out, past Kane, who turns to watch her go, like a very tired old man.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. "EL RANCHO" CABARET - NIGHT - 1940

Susan and Thompson at a table.  There is silence between them for a moment.

					    SUSAN
			    In case you've never heard of how
			    I lost all my money - and it was
			    plenty, believe me -

					    THOMPSON
			    The last ten years have been tough
			    on a lot of people.

					    SUSAN
			    They haven't been tough on me.  I
			    just lost my money.  But when I 
			    compare these last ten years with 
			    the twenty I spent with him -

					    THOMPSON
			    I feel kind of sorry for him, all
			    the same -

					    SUSAN
				    (harshly)
			    Don't you think I do?
				    (pause)
			    You say you're going down to Xanadu?

					    THOMPSON
			    Monday, with some of the boys from
			    the office.  Mr. Rawlston wants the
			    whole place photographed carefully -
			    all that art stuff.  We run a picture
			    magazine, you know -

					    SUSAN
			    I know.  If you're smart, you'll 
			    talk to Raymond.  That's the butler.
			    You can learn a lot from him.  He	
			    knows where the bodies are buried.

She shivers.  The dawn light from the skylight above has grown brighter, making the artificial light in the night club look particularly ghastly, revealing mercilessly every year of Susan's age.

					    SUSAN
			    Well, what do you know?  It's morning
			    already. 
				    (looks at him)
			    You must come around and tell me the
			    story of your life sometime.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. GREAT HALL - XANADU - NIGHT - 1940

An open door shows the pantry, which is dark.  Thompson and Raymond are at a table.  There is a pitcher of beer and a plate of sandwiches before them.  Raymond drinks a glass of beer and settles back.

					    RAYMOND
			    Yes, sir - yes, sir, I knew how to
			    handle the old man.  He was kind of
			    queer, but I knew how to handle him.
	
					    THOMPSON
			    Queer?

					    RAYMOND
			    Yeah.  I guess he wasn't very happy
			    those last years - he didn't have
			    much reason to be -

DISSOLVE:

INT. CORRIDOR AND TELEGRAPH OFFICE - XANADU - NIGHT - 1929

Raymond walking rapidly along corridor.  He pushes open a door.  At a desk in a fairly elaborate telegraph office sits a wireless operator named Fred.  Near him at a telephone switchboard sits a female operator named Katherine (not that it matters).

					    RAYMOND
			    	    (reading)
			    Mr. Charles Foster Kane announced
			    today that Mrs. Charles Foster Kane
			    has left Xanadu, his Florida home, 
			    under the terms of a peaceful and 
			    friendly agreement with the intention
			    of filing suit for divorce at an
			    early date.  Mrs. Kane said that she
			    does not intend to return to the 
			    operatic career which she gave up a 
			    few years after her marriage, at Mr.
			    Kane's request.  Signed, Charles Foster
			    Kane.

Fred finishes typing and then looks up.

					    RAYMOND
			    Exclusive for immediate transmission.
			    Urgent priority all Kane papers.

					    FRED
			    Okay.

There is the sound of the buzzer on the switchboard.  Katherine puts in a plug and answers the call.

					    KATHERINE
			    Yes ... yes...  Mrs. Tinsdall -
			    Very well.
				    (turns to Raymond)
			    It's the housekeeper.

					    RAYMOND
			    Yes?

					    KATHERINE
			    She says there's some sort of
			    disturbance up in Mrs. Alexander's
			    room.  She's afraid to go in.

DISSOLVE:

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE SUSAN'S BEDROOM - XANADU - NIGHT - 1929

The housekeeper, Mrs. Tinsdall, and a couple of maids are near the door but are too afraid to be in front of it.  From inside can be heard a terrible banging and crashing.  Raymond hurries into scene, opens the door and goes in.

INT. SUSAN'S BEDROOM - XANADU - 1929

Kane, in a truly terrible and absolutely silent rage, is literally breaking up the room - yanking pictures, hooks and all off the wall, smashing them to bits - ugly, gaudy pictures - Susie's pictures in Susie's bad taste.  Off of occasional tables, bureaus, he sweeps Susie's whorish accumulation of bric-a-brac.

Raymond stands in the doorway watching him.  Kane says nothing.  He continues with tremendous speed and surprising strength, still wordlessly, tearing the room to bits.  The curtains (too frilly - overly pretty) are pulled off the windows in a single gesture, and from the bookshelves he pulls down double armloads of cheap novels - discovers a half-empty bottle of liquor and dashes it across the room.  Finally he stops.  Susie's cozy little chamber is an incredible shambles all around him.

He stands for a minute breathing heavily, and his eye lights on a hanging what-not in a corner which had escaped his notice.  Prominent on its center shelf is the little glass ball with the snowstorm in it.  He yanks it down.  Something made of china breaks, but not the glass ball.  It bounces on the carpet and rolls to his feet, the snow in a flurry.  His eye follows it.  He stoops to pick it up - can't make it.  Raymond picks it up for him; hands it to him.  Kane takes it sheepishly - looks at it - moves painfully out of the room into the corridor.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE SUSAN'S BEDROOM - XANADU - 1929

Kane comes out of the door.  Mrs. Tinsdall has been joined now by a fairly sizable turnout of servants.  They move back away from Kane, staring at him.  Raymond is in the doorway behind Kane.  Kane looks at the glass ball.

					    KANE
				    (without turning)
			    Close the door, Raymond.

					    RAYMOND
			    Yes, sir.
				    (he closes it)

					    KANE
			    Lock it - and keep it locked.

Raymond locks the door and comes to his side.  There is a long pause - servants staring in silence.  Kane gives the glass ball a gentle shake and starts another snowstorm.

					    KANE
			    Raymond -
				    (he is almost in a trance)

					    RAYMOND
			    Yes, sir -

One of the younger servants giggles and is hushed up.  Kane shakes the ball again.  Another flurry of snow.  He watches the flakes settle - then looks up.  Finally, taking in the pack of servants and something of the situations, he puts the glass ball in his coat pocket.  He speaks very quietly to Raymond, so quietly it only seems he's talking to himself.

					    KANE
			    Keep it locked.

He slowly walks off down the corridor, the servants giving way to let him pass, and watching him as he goes.  He is an old, old man!

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S CHAPEL - XANADU - LATE AFTERNOON - 1939

As the dissolve completes itself, camera is travellling across the floor of the chapel past the crypts of Kane's father and mother - (marked: James Kane - 18- TO 19-; Mary Kane - 18- TO 19-;) - past a blank crypt, and then holding on the burial of Kane's son.  A group of ordinary workmen in ordinary clothes are lowering a very expensive-looking coffin into its crypt.  Kane stands nearby with Raymond, looking on.  The men strain and grunt as the coffin bangs on the stone floor.  The men now place over it a long marble slab on which is cut the words:

CHARLES FOSTER KANE II.
1907 - 1938

					    

					    ONE OF THE
					    WORKMEN
			    Sorry, Mr. Kane, we won't be able
			    to cement it till tommorrow.  We - 

Kane looks right through him.  Raymond cuts him short.

					    RAYMOND
			    Okay.

The men tip their hats and shuffle out of the chapel.  Kane raises his head, looks at the inscription on the wall.  It is a little to one side of Junior's grave, directly over the blank place which will be occupied by Kane himself.

					    KANE
			    Do you like poetry, Raymond?

					    RAYMOND
			    Can't say, sir.

					    KANE
			    Mrs. Kane liked poetry -

Raymond is now convinced that the old master is very far gone indeed - not to say off his trolley.

					    RAYMOND
			    Yes, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    Not my wife - not either of them.

He looks at the grave next to his son's - the grave marked "MARY KANE."

					    RAYMOND
				    (catching on)
			    Oh, yes, sir.

					    KANE
				    (looking back up 
				     at the wall)
			    Do you know what that is?

					    RAYMOND
				    (more his keeper than
				     his butler now)
			    It's a wall you bought in China,
			    Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    Persia.  It belonged to a king.

					    RAYMOND
			    How did you get him to part with
			    it, Mr. Kane?

					    KANE
			    He was dead...  That's a poem.  Do
			    you know what it means?

					    RAYMOND
			    No, I don't, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    I didn't used to be afraid of it.

A short pause.  His eyes still on the wall, but looking through it, Kane quotes the translation.

					    KANE
			    The drunkeness of youth has passed like a fever,
			    And yet I saw many things,
			    Seeing my glory in the days of my glory,
			    I thought my power eternal
			    And the days of my life
			    Fixed surely in the years
			    But a whisper came to me
			    From Him who dies not.
			    I called my tributary kings together
			    And those who were proud rulers under me,
			    I opened the boxes of my treasure to them, saying:
			    "Take hills of gold, moutains of silver,
			    And give me only one more day upon the earth."
			    But they stood silent, 
			    Looking upon the ground;
			    So that I died
			    And Death came to sit upon my throne.

			    O sons of men
			    You see a stranger upon the road,
			    You call to him and he does not step.
			    He is your life
			    Walking towards time,
			    Hurrying to meet the kings of India and China.
				    (quoting)
			    O sons of men
			    You are caught in the web of the world
			    And the spider Nothing waits behind it.
			    Where are the men with towering hopes?
			    They have changed places with owls, 
			    Owls who have lived in tombs
			    And now inhabit a palace.

Kane still stares at the wall, through it, and way beyond it.  Raymond looks at him.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. GREAT HALL - XANADU - NIGHT - 1940

Thompson and Raymond.  Raymond has finished his beer.

					    RAYMOND
				    (callously)
			    That's the whole works, right up
			    to date.

					    THOMPSON
			    Sentimental fellow, aren't you?

					    RAYMOND
			    Yes and no.

					    THOMPSON
				    (getting to his feet)
			    Well, thanks a lot.

					    RAYMOND
			    See what I mean?  He was a little
			    gone in the head - the last couple
			    of years, anyway - but I knew how
			    to handle him.
				    (rises)
			    That "Rosebud" - that don't mean
			    anything.  I heard him say it.
			    He just said "Rosebud" and then he
			    dropped that glass ball and it broke
			    on the floor.  He didn't say anything
			    about that, so I knew he was dead -
			    He said all kind of things I couldn't
			    make out.  But I knew how to take care
			    of him.

Thompson doesn't answer.

					    RAYMOND
			    You can go on asking questions if
			    you want to.

					    THOMPSON
				    (coldly)
			    We're leaving tonight.  As soon
			    as they're through photographing
			    the stuff -

Thompson has risen.  Raymond gets to his feet and goes to the door, opening it for him.

					    RAYMOND
			    Allow yourself plenty of time.  The
			    train stops at the Junction On signal
		  	    - but they don't like to wait.  Not
			    now.  I can remember when they'd wait
			    all day ... if Mr. Kane said so.

Raymond ushes Thompson into

INT. THE GREAT HALL - XANADU - NIGHT - 1940

The magnificent tapestries, candelabra, etc., are still there, but now several large packing cases are piled against the walls, some broken open, some shut and a number of objects, great and small, are piled pell mell all over the place.  Furniture, statues, paintings, bric-a-brac - things of obviously enormous value are standing beside a kitchen stove, an old rocking chair and other junk, among which is also an old sled, the self-same story.  Somewhere in the back, one of the vast Gothic windows of the hall is open and a light wind blows through the scene, rustling the papers.

In the center of the hall, a Photographer and his Assistant are busy photographing the sundry objects.  The floor is littered with burnt-out flash bulbs.  They continue their work throughout the early part of the scene so that now and then a flash bulb goes off.  In addition to the Photographer and his Assistant, there are a Girl and Two Newspaperment - the Second and Third Men of the projection room scene - also Thompson and Raymond.

The Girl and the Second Man, who wears a hat, are dancing somewhere in the back of the hall to the music of a phonograph.  A flash bulb goes off.  The Photographer has just photographed a picture, obviously of great value, an Italian primitive.  The Assistant consults a label on the back of it.
 
ASSISTANT NO. 9182

The Third Newspaperman starts to jot this information down.

					    ASSISTANT
			    "Nativity" - attributed to Donatello,
			    acquired Florence 1921, cost 45,000
			    lira.  Got that?

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    Yeah.

					    PHOTOGRAPHER
			    All right!  Next!  Better get that
			    statue over there.

					    ASSISTANT
			    Okay.

The Photographer and his Assitant start to move off with their equipment towards a large sculpture in another part of the hall.

					    RAYMOND
			    What do you think all that is 
			    worth, Mr. Thompson?

					    THOMPSON
			    Millions - if anybody wants it.

					    RAYMOND
			    The banks are out of luck, eh?

					    THOMPSON
			    Oh, I don't know.  They'll clear 
			    all right.

					    ASSISTANT
			    "Venus," Fourth Century.  Acquired
			    1911.  Cost twenty-three thousand.
			    Got it?

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    Okay.

					    ASSISTANT
				    (patting the statue
				     on the fanny)
			    That's a lot of money to pay for a
			    dame without a head.

					    SECOND ASSISTANT
			    	    (reading a label)
			    No. 483.  One desk from the estate 
			    of Mary Kane, Little Salem, Colorado.
			    Value $6.00.

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    Okay.

A flashlight bulb goes off.

					    SECOND ASSISTANT
			    We're all set to get everything.  The
			    junk as well as the art.

Thompson has opened a box and is idly playing with a handful of little pieces of cardboard.

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    What's that?

					    RAYMOND
			    It's a jigsaw puzzle.

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    We got a lot of those.  There's a 
			    Burmese  Temple and three Spanish
			    ceilings down the hall.

Raymond laughs.

					    PHOTOGRAPHER
			    Yeah, all in crates.

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    There's a part of a Scotch castle 
			    over there, but we haven't bothered
			    to unwrap it.

					    PHOTOGRAPHER
			    I wonder how they put all those 
			    pieces together?

					    ASSISTANT
				    (reading a label)
			    Iron stove.  Estate of Mary Kane.
			    Value $2.00.

					    PHOTOGRAPHER
			    Put it over by that statue.  It'll
			    make a good setup.

					    GIRL
				    (calling out)
			    Who is she anyway?

					    SECOND NEWSPAPERMAN
			    Venus.  She always is.

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    He sure liked to collect things,
			    didn't he?

					    RAYMOND
			    He went right on buying - right up
			    to the end.

					    PHOTOGRAPHER
			    Anything and everything - he was a
			    regular crow.

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    I wonder -  You put all this together -		
			    the palaces and the paintings and the
			    toys and everything - what would it spell?

Thompson has turned around.  He is facing the camera for the first time.

					    THOMPSON
			    Charles Foster Kane.

Another flash bulb goes off.  The Photographer turns to Thompson with a grin.

					    PHOTOGRAPHER
			    Or Rosebud?  How about it, Jerry?

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    	    (to the dancers)
			    Turn that thing off, will you?  It's
			    driving me nuts!  What's Rosebud?

					    PHOTOGRAPHER
			    Kane's last words, aren't they, Jerry?
				    (to the Third Newspaperman)
			    That was Jerry's angle, wasn't it, Jerry?
			    Did you ever find out what it means, Jerry?

					    THOMPSON
			    No, I didn't.

The music has stopped.  The dancers have come over to Thompson.

					    SECOND NEWSPAPERMAN
			    Say, what did you find out about him,
			    anyway, Jerry?

					    THOMPSON
			    Not much.

					    SECOND NEWSPAPERMAN
			    Well, what have you been doing?

					    THOMPSON
			    Playing with a jigsaw puzzle -   I 
			    talked to a lot of people who knew him.

					    GIRL
			    What do they say?

					    THOMPSON
			    Well - it's become a very clear picture.
			    He was the most honest man who ever 
			    lived, with a streak of crookedness 
			    a yard wide.  He was a liberal and a
			    reactionary; he was tolerant - "Live
			    and Let Live" - that was his motto.
			    But he had no use for anybody who 
			    disagreed with him on any point, no 
			    matter how small it was.  He was a
			    loving husband and a good father - 
			    and both his wives left him and his 
			    son got himself killed about as
			    shabbily as you can do it.  He had a
			    gift for friendship such as few men 
			    have - he broke his oldest friend's
			    heart like you'd throw away a cigarette
			    you were through with.  Outside of that -

					    THIRD NEWSPAPERMAN
			    Okay, okay.

					    GIRL
			    What about Rosebud?  Don't you 
			    think that explains anything?

					    THOMPSON
			    No, I don't.  Not much anway.  Charles
			    Foster Kane was a man who got everything
			    he wanted, and then lost it.  Maybe
			    Rosebud was something he couldn't get 
			    or lost.  No, I don't think it explains
			    anything.  I don't think any word explains
			    a man's life.  No -  I guess Rosebud is
			    just a piece in a jigsaw puzzle - a 
			    missing piece.

He drops the jigsaw pieces back into the box, looking at his watch.

					    THOMPSON
			    We'd better get along.  We'll miss
			    the train.

He picks up his overcoat - it has been resting on a little sled - the little sled young Charles Foster Kane hit Thatcher with at the opening of the picture.  Camera doesn't close in on this.  It just registers the sled as the newspaper people, picking up their clothes and equipment, move out of the great hall.

DISSOLVE:

INT. CELLAR - XANADU - NIGHT - 1940

A large furnace, with an open door, dominates the scene.  Two laborers, with shovels, are shovelling things into the furnace.  Raymond is about ten feet away.

					    RAYMOND
			    Throw that junk in, too.

Camera travels to the pile that he has indicated.  It is mostly bits of broken packing cases, excelsior, etc.  The sled is on top of the pile.  As camera comes close, it shows the faded rosebud and, though the letters are faded, unmistakably the word "ROSEBUD" across it.  The laborer drops his shovel, takes the sled in his hand and throws it into the furnace.  The flames start to devour it.

EXT. XANADU - NIGHT - 1940

No lights are to be seen.  Smoke is coming from a chimney.

Camera reverses the path it took at the beginning of the picture, perhaps omitting some of the stages.  It moves finally through the gates, which close behind it.  As camera pauses for a moment, the letter "K" is prominent in the moonlight.

Just before we fade out, there comes again into the picture the pattern of barbed wire and cyclone fencing.  On the fence is a sign which reads:

"PRIVATE - NO TRESPASSING"

FADE OUT: