Royal53-11-2809Markheim

The National Broadcasting Company presents Transcribe so Lawrence Olivier in Plato Royal. This is Lawrence Olivier. Today's play is adapted from the work of a man who stands alone. A true prince of storytellers, Robert Louis Stevenson.

Each of us has, I'm sure, a favorite Stevenson story. But this one, I think, being among is lesser known. You may like to hear. I myself shall be playing the title role, and Robert Louis Stevenson's Markine.

By your own confession, you stand before this court guilty of callus and premeditated murder. Have you anything to say why sentence of death should not be pronounced upon your?

No, my lord. The sentence of this court is that you be taken to another place, and that such time as may be agreed, where be hanged by the neck until dead, and may the Lord have mercy upon your soul.

May the Lord have mercy on my soul, if I could only hope that he would. Yet I should very little mercy myself, and felt at the time neither pity nor remorse. Terror, yes. I went in terror of every sound.

Every footstep out there on the street. It seemed fantastic that nobody should have heard him die. I thought of them, all the people in the houses round about. Happy people, required people. Lonely people condemned to spend Christmas by themselves.

But all of them, young and old alike, sitting there in the world outside, listening. Listening to every song that was Christmas. Yes, Mr. Markheim, it'll soon be Christmas. We can sense it in the air already, I think.

I care nothing about Christmas. Indeed? That's a pity, Mr. Markheim. A great pity. But I hope indifference hasn't blinded you to the fact that Christmas is very nearly with us. Because I must admit that I am very conscious of that. Dear me, yes. You must know that I am not indifferent to the fact. I am acutely conscious of it.