Cornel1801.com  

Citizen Kane (1941) script

by JHerman J. Mankiewicz and Orson Welles

 
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


 
A B C D E F
 
G H I. J K L
 
M N O P R S
 
T U V W Y Z