Mexico

The Columbia Broadcasting System presents the Mercury Theater in a special series of broadcasts about the other Americas produced by Orson Welles. Americans, I stand here in a room of a building in this modern city surrounded by streets and planning and the shadows of monuments.

There are parks here, playgrounds and plazas, churches, cathedrals, Holy air. The remarket places, laughter of people, electricity, motocals. The singing of women. Age is here, and the wisdom of it. Time is here, in the stillness of the land.

Time surrounds the city with huge hills. Snow-covered, solemn. The conquistadors lies below us now beneath the foundation of the buildings beneath the stones of the city life. All the weapons of slavery are dust in the earth.

The chains, the lances, the cannon, the hard skulls all are packed down by the weight and anger of centuries. There were graves in Mexico for tyrants then. his room for grave still. He who comes to conquer this soil will learn to sleep under it forever a mile from where I stand the voice of Moktazuma spoke. His palace is now

one side of the plaza my or in the subsoil of the plaza my or the Aztec calendar stone was found he ate without soul the stone of the sun on its stone face a carved figures they They tell the time, the month and year, frozen in the giant stillness of the past.

They return us to the time, to the history, to the names, to the invisible dead. Go go gone, get your quarrel, the guard, or with white skin. He went among the people. The land is sacred.

It belongs to those who work it, who plant and breathe. Not to those slavery is ungodly. Each man is master of his own body. There is enough in this land for all of them. All of them should be dead.