CITIZEN KANE



by
Herman J. Mankiewicz
&
Orson Welles


Typed/Donated by
John Powers
Jon Reifler






PROLOGUE

FADE IN:

EXT. XANADU - FAINT DAWN - 1940 (MINIATURE)

Window, very small in the distance, illuminated.

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

DISSOLVE:

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

The literally incredible domain of CHARLES FOSTER KANE.

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

DISSOLVE:

GOLF LINKS (MINIATURE)

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

WHAT WAS ONCE A GOOD-SIZED ZOO (MINIATURE)

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

DISSOLVE:

THE MONKEY TERRACE (MINIATURE)

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

DISSOLVE:

THE ALLIGATOR PIT (MINIATURE)

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

THE LAGOON (MINIATURE)

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

THE GREAT SWIMMING POOL (MINIATURE)

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

DISSOLVE:

THE COTTAGES (MINIATURE)

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

A DRAWBRIDGE (MINIATURE)

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

DISSOLVE:

THE WINDOW (MINIATURE)

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

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN - 1940

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

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN - 1940

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

					    KANE'S OLD OLD
						VOICE
			    Rosebud...

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

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

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. OF A MOTION PICTURE PROJECTION ROOM

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

"MAIN TITLE"

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

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

"CREDITS"

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

FADE OUT:

NEWS DIGEST


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


U.S.A.
CHARLES FOSTER KANE

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

DISSOLVE:

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

					    NARRATOR
				    (dropping the quotes)

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

TITLE:

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

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

DISSOLVE:

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

TITLE:

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

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

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

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

Shots with the date - 1898 (to be supplied)

Shots with the date - 1910 (to be supplied)

Shots with the date - 1922 (to be supplied)

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

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

2.  PROHIBITION
Breaking up of a speakeasy and such.

3.  T.V.A.

4.  LABOR RIOTS

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

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

DISSOLVE:

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

The magnificent Enquirer Building of today.

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

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

DISSOLVE:

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

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

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

Shot of Capitol, in Washington D.C.

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

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

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

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

					    THATCHER
			    I did.

					    INVESTIGATOR
			    In connection with the Kane affairs?

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

					    NARRATOR
			    That same month in Union Square -

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

Loud laughter and confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

					    NARRATOR
			    And yet another opinion - Kane's own.

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

TITLE:

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

Same locale, Kane shaking hands out of frame.

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

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

TITLE:

FEW PRIVATE LIVES WERE MORE PUBLIC.

Period still of Emily Norton (1900).

DISSOLVE:

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

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

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

DISSOLVE:

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

Then shots of its preparation. (1917)

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

Shots of vast dredges, steamshovels.

Shot of ship standing offshore unloading its lighters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TITLE:

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

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

Spanish-American War shots. (1898)

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

Old newsreels of a political campaign.

Insert of a particularly virulent headline and/or cartoon.

HEADLINE: "PRESIDENT SHOT"

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

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

- and then down...  (1910)

FADE OUT:

TITLE:

IN POLITICS - ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID, NEVER A BRIDE

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

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

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

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

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

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

Printed title about Depression.

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

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

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

Shots of Xanadu.  (1940)

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

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

DISSOLVE:

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

INT. PROJECTION ROOM - DAY - 1940

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    THOMPSON'S VOICE
			    Well?

A short pause.

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

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

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

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

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

				 	    ANOTHER VOICE
			    Charles Foster Kane was a...

Then observations are made almost simultaneous.

					    RAWLSTON'S VOICE
			    Just a minute!

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

					    RAWLSTON
			    What were Kane's last words?

A silence greets this.

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

					    SOMEBODY'S VOICE
			    Motivation -

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

					    THOMPSON
			    Yes, and maybe he didn't.

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

					    THOMPSON
			    I know, but -

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

					    A VOICE
			    One of the biggest.

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

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

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

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

					    SOMEBODY'S VOICE
			    What were they?

Silence.

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

					    RAWLSTON
				    (with disgust)
			    Rosebud!

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

					    RAWLSTON
			    That's right.

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

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

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

					    RAWLSTON
			    All right.  But what was the race?

There is a short silence.

					    RAWLSTON
			    Thompson!

					    THOMPSON
			    Yes, sir.

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

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

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

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

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

					    RAWLSTON
			    	    (rising)
			    Good!

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

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

FADE OUT:

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

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


FADE IN:

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

The first image to register is a sign:

"EL RANCHO"
FLOOR SHOW
SUSAN ALEXANDER KANE
TWICE NIGHTLY

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

DISSOLVE:

INT. "EL RANCO" CABARET - NIGHT - 1940

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

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

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

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

Low thunder from outside.

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

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

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

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

					    SUSAN	
			    Think again!

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

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

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

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

Thompson looks at the Captain, who shrugs his shoulders.

					    THOMPSON
			    I'm sorry.  Maybe some other time -

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

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

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

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

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

					    THE WAITER
			    Another double?

					    THE CAPTAIN
				    (after a moment, pityingly)
			    Yes.

They walk to the door.

				 	    THOMPSON
			    She's plastered, isn't she?

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

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

					    THE CAPTAIN
			    Rosebud?

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

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

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY - 1940

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

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

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

					    THOMPSON
			    That's all right.

				   	    BERTHA
			    You may come with me.

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

	DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

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

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

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

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

					    GUARD
			    Yes, Miss Anderson.

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

					    THOMPSON
			    That's all I'm interested in.

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

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

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

Manuscript, neatly and precisely written:

"CHARLES FOSTER KANE

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

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

DISSOLVES INTO:

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

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

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

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

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

Charles Kane's snowball hits the sign.

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

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

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

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

					    THATCHER'S VOICE
			    Mrs. Kane -

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

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

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

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

					    MRS. KANE
			    I'll sign those papers -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    THATCHER
			    Right here, Mrs. Kane.

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

Mrs. Kane lifts the quill pen.

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

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

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

Mrs. Kane puts pen to the paper and signs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kane Sr. closes the window.

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

Mrs. Kane rises and goes to the window.

					    MRS. KANE
			    Go on, Mr. Thatcher.

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

EXT. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY - 1870

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    KANE
			    H'ya, Mom.

Mrs. Kane smiles.

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

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

					    THATCHER
			    Charles, my name is Mr. Thatcher -

					    MRS. KANE
			    This is Mr. Thatcher, Charles.

					    THATCHER
			    How do you do, Charles?

					    KANE SR.
			    He comes from the east.

					    KANE
			    Hello.  Hello, Pop.

					    KANE SR.
			    Hello, Charlie!

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

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

				  	    KANE
			    You goin', Mom?

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

					    KANE
			    Where'm I going?

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

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

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

					    MRS. KANE
			    We have to stay here, Charles.

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

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

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

Kane stares at him.

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

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

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

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

				  	    MRS. KANE
			    Charles!

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

					    KANE
				    (frightened)
			    Mom!  Mom!

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

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

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

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

					    KANE SR.
			    Yes.

Mrs. Kane looks slowly at Mr. Kane.

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

DISSOLVE:

1870 - NIGHT (STOCK OR MINIATURE)

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

DISSOLVE:

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

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

					    KANE
			    Mom!  Mom!

DISSOLVE OUT:

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

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

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

INT. ENQUIRER CITY ROOM - DAY - 1898

Close-up on printed headline which reads:

"ENEMY ARMADA OFF JERSEY COAST"

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

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

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

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

					    KANE
			    Can you prove it isn't?

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

					    KANE
			    Mr. Bernstein, Mr. Thatcher -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    How are you, Mr. Thatcher?

					    THATCHER
			    How do you do? -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Laughter from the boys and girls at the table.

				  	    BERNSTEIN
			    That's fine, Mr. Kane.

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

					    MIKE
			    Right away.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Right away.

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

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

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

They cross the City Room together.

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

INT. KANE'S OFFICE - DAY - 1898

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thatcher doesn't understand him.

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

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

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

Thatcher puts on his hat.

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

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

Thatcher thinks maybe the point has registered.

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

DISSOLVE:

INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY

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

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

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

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

					    MISS ANDERSON
			    What?

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

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

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Who else you been to see?

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

					    THOMPSON
			    You know why?  She was so -

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Sure, sure.

					    THOMPSON
			    I'm going back there.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Who else did you see?

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

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

					    THOMPSON
			    He made an awful lot of money.

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

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

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY - 1940

Bernstein speaking to Thompson.

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

He leaves the sentence up in the air, as we

DISSOLVE:

INT. CITY ROOM - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1914

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

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

					    HIRELING
			    Not yet.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Go in and ask him to hurry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Enthusiastic?

					    CITY EDITOR
			    Yes, very!
				    (quietly)
			    Naturally.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Well, well - isn't that nice?

					    KANE'S VOICE
			    Mr. Bernstein -

Bernstein turns.

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

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Hello, Mr. Kane.

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

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

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

					    KANE
			    Was the show covered by every department?

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

					    KANE
				    (very, very casually)
			    And the notice?

				  	    CITY EDITOR
			    Yes - Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
				    (quietly)
			    Is it good?

				 	    CITY EDITOR
			    Yes, Mr. kane.

Kane looks at him for a minute.

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

					    KANE
				    (sharply)
			    It isn't finished?

					    CITY EDITOR
			    No, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    That's Leland, isn't it?

				   	    CITY EDITOR
			    Yes, Mr. Kane.

					    KANE
			    Has he said when he'll finish?

					    CITY EDITOR
			    We haven't heard from him.

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

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

				  	    ANOTHER HIRELING
			    Right in there, Mr. Kane.

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

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

					    KANE
			    That's all right, Mr. Bernstein.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bernstein stares at him.

				    	    KANE
			    What's he written?

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

					    KANE
			    Thais.

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

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

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

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

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

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (miserably)
			    I didn't see that.

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

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

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

Bernstein retreats from the room.

QUICK DISSOLVE OUT:

QUICK DISSOLVE IN:

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

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

QUICK DISSOLVE:

INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY - 1940

Bernstein speaking to Thompson.

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

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

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

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

On these last words, we

DISSOLVE:

INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1891

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    KANE
				    (grinning)
			    Ask them to sit down.

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

					    KANE
			    I don't my plans myself.

They are following Carter to his raised platform.

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

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

				  	    KANE
			    Oh, Mr. Bernstein!

Bernstein looks up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S OFFICE - LATE DAY - 1891

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

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

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

Kane has finished eating.  He pushes away his plates.

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

					    CARTER
			    There is no news big enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kane isn't listening to him.

					    KANE
			    Oh, Mr. Bernstein!

Bernstein looks up from his figures.

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

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

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

					    CARTER
			    But, Mr. Kane -

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

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

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

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (without looking up)
			    Three cents.

					    KANE
				    (calmly)
			    Two cents.

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

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

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

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

					    KANE
			    Ready for dinner, Brad?

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

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

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Who said anything about brooms?

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

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Oh!

DISSOLVE:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kane looks up.

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

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

					    CARTER
			    But Mr. Kane, I meant -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He starts out of the room, followed by Leland.

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

EXT. NEW YORK STREET - VERY EARLY DAWN - 1891

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

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

DISSOLVE:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Leland rises from the chair, stretching painfully.

					    KANE
			    Tired?

					    LELAND
			    It's been a tough day.

					    KANE
			    A wasted day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    KANE
			    I'll write it myself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DISSOLVE:

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

MY PRINCIPLES - A DECLARATION
BY CHARLES FOSTER KANE

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

A wagon with a huge sign on its side reading

"ENQUIRER - CIRCULATION 26,000"

passes through foreground, and we wipe to:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EXT. STREET AND CHRONICLE BUIDING - DAY - 1895

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

THE ENQUIRER
THE PEOPLE'S NEWSPAPER
CIRCULATION 62,000

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

READ THE ENQUIRER
AMERICA'S FINEST
CIRCULATION 62,000

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

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

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

					    LELAND
			    That looks pretty nice.

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

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

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

					    LELAND
			    The "Chronicle" is a good newspaper.

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

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

					    KANE
			    You're right, Mr. Bernstein.

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

				    	    KANE
			    I know.

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

DISSOLVE:

INT. CITY ROOM - THE ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1895

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

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

					    PHOTOGRAPHER
			    That's all.  Thank you.

The photographic subjects rise.

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

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

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

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

General applause.

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

Applause.

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

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

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

The "Enquirer" sign:

THE ENQUIRER
AMERICA'S FINEST
CIRCULATION
274,321

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

READ THE ENQUIRER
GREATEST STAFF IN THE WORLD

Camera continues panning as we

DISSOLVE:

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

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

Move down from the sign:

READ THE ENQUIRER
GREATEST STAFF IN THE WORLD

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

"REMEMBER THE MAINE"

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

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

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

INT. ENQUIRER OFFICE

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

DISSOLVE:

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

INT. ENQUIRER OFFICE

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

DISSOLVE:

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

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

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

STREET - SHOT OF BUCKET BRIGADE

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

DISSOLVE:

INSERT:  Headline about inadequacy of present fire equipment.

DISSOLVE:

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

DISSOLVE:

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

DISSOLVE:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    KANE
			    Thank you.

Kane and Leland and Bernstein start up the gangplank.

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

					    KANE
			    Thanks.

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

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

					    STEWARD'S VOICE
			    All ashore!

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

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

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

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

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

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

				   	    BERNSTEIN
			    Do you, Mr. Leland?

					    LELAND
				    (smiling)
			    Certainly not.

They start down the gangplank together.

DISSOLVE:

LONG SHOT OF THE ENQUIRER BUILDING - NIGHT

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

DISSOLVE:

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

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

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

DISSOLVE:

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

DISSOLVE:

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

DISSOLVE:

A beach on Coney Island.

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1900

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Miss Townsend -

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

					    MISS TOWNSEND
			    Good afternoon, Mr. Bernstein.

					    BERNSTEIN
			    This is Mr. Kane, Miss Townsend.

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

					    KANE
				    (very hesitatingly and
				     very softly)
			    Miss Townsend -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He takes her by the hand and leads her off.

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

EXT. STREET OUTSIDE ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY - 1900

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

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

INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER - DAY - 1900

Bernstein and Miss Townsend at window.

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

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

DISSOLVE:

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

DISSOLVE:

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

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

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

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

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

				  	    THOMPSON
			    Yes -

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

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

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

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

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

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

EXT. HOSPITAL ROOF - DAY - 1940

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

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

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

					    THOMPSON
			    Mr. Leland, you were -

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

					    THOMPSON
			    Sorry, Mr. Leland.

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

					    THOMPSON
			    Maybe you could remember something
			    that -

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. CITY ROOM - THE ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1895

The party (previously shown in the Bernstein sequence).

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

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

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

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Isn't it wonderful?  Such a party!

					    LELAND
			    Yes.

His tone causes Bernstein to look at him.

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

The above speeches are heard under the following dialogue.

					    BERNSTEIN
				    (to Leland)
			    What's the matter?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

				   	    KANE
			    Well, gentlemen, are we going to
			    war?

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

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

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

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

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

					    GEORGIE
			    Is everything the way you want it,
			    dear?

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

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

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

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

					    LELAND
			    They do it only because you do!

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

Leland nods.

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

Leland shudders.

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

Brad doesn't answer.

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. GEORGIE'S PLACE - NIGHT - 1895

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


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

					    ETHEL
			    Hello, Mr. Leland.

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

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

					    ANOTHER GIRL
			    Is there a song about Charlie?

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

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

					    LELAND
			    Yes?

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

					    LELAND
			    Good.

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

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

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

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

					    LELAND
			    Charlie -

					    KANE
			    Yes?

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

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. RECTOR'S - NIGHT - 1898

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

DISSOLVE:

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

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

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

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

Bernstein and Leland on deck.

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

					    LELAND
				    (smiling)
			    Certainly not.

Slight pause.  They continue on their way.

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

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

This stops Bernstein.  Bernstein looks at him.

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

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

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

					    BERNSTEIN
			    Yes.

Leland is surprised.

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

					    LELAND
				    (good naturedly)

			    You're in a conspiracy against me,
			    you two.  You always have been.

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

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

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

					    LELAND
			    September the ninth?

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

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

DISSOLVE:

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

EXT. HOSPITAL ROOF - DAY - 1940

Leland and Thompson.  Leland is speaking as we dissolve.

					    LELAND
			    I used to go to dancing school with
			    her.

Thompson had handed Leland a paper.

					    LELAND
			    What's this?

					    THOMPSON
			    It's a letter from her lawyers.

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

					    THOMPSON
			    Rawlston is my boss.

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

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

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

Leland hands the paper back to Thompson.

					    LELAND
			    Brief marriage!  Ten years!
				    (sighs)

					    THOMPSON
			    Was he in love?

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

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

DISSOLVE:

Screaming headline:

OIL SCANDAL!

DISSOLVE:

Headline reading:

KANE TO SEE PRESIDENT

DISSOLVE:

Big headline on "Enquirer" front page which reads:

KANE TO SEE PRESIDENT

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

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

					    KANE
			    Thanks.

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

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

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

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

					    KANE
			    Mr. President.

He starts out of the office.

DISSOLVE:

INT. COMPOSING ROOM - ENQUIRER - NIGHT - 1902

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

					    FOREMAN
			    How about it, Mr. Kane?

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

					    KANE
			    All right.  Let her slide!

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

Insert of the headline, which reads:

"OIL THEFT BECOMES LAW AS
PRESIDENT WITHOLDS VETO"

DISSOLVE:

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

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

DISSOLVE:

News ticker which is spelling out the words:

"ASSASSINATED 7:45 P.M."

NOTE:  Under the following - a down shot, below the "Enquirer," shows a crowd
forming, looking angrily up