In this gripping episode of CBS Radio Mystery Theater, hosted by EG Marshall, we delve into the complexities of conscience and morality through the story of "The Monk and the Hangman's Daughter." Set in the year 1680, the narrative follows Friar Ambrosius, a young monk who grapples with his feelings of compassion and mercy towards Benedicta, the daughter of a hangman, in a society that shuns her. As Ambrosius defies societal norms and follows his conscience, he faces severe consequences from his religious superiors, leading to a period of solitary confinement and introspection.
Amidst the backdrop of the Bavarian Alps, the story unfolds with elements of mystery, spiritual conflict, and forbidden love. Ambrosius's journey is marked by encounters with supernatural elements, a struggle against societal judgment, and a tragic end that intertwines his fate with Benedicta's. The episode explores themes of faith, redemption, and the eternal battle between personal conscience and societal expectations, leaving listeners pondering the true nature of morality and divine justice.
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CBS Radio Mystery Theater presents Come in. Welcome. I'm EG Marshall. This is a story about conscience, that small, still voice within most of us that whispers to us and tells us what is right and what is wrong. It has been said that conscience is God's presence in man. A man without a god is a man without a conscience. If this is so, how then could it be possible for a man of god to love what he believes is right, and at the same time, yield to what the rest of the world considers wrong? You have brought shame on yourself
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and on all of us, brother Ambrosius. What have you to say? I meant no harm, father Andreas. The girl is so young. Her father's not well, and she came to the church alone. What devil possessed you that you should walk into the house of the Lord side by side with the daughter of the hangman? I pitied her and I followed my conscience, father. Your conscience. Your conscience is the voice of God, not of your own making.
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Why do you not accept my censure and say that you repent? My feelings for Benedicta are mercy and compassion.
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Would you have me repent those? You leave me no choice. You will be confined to your cell where God willing, fasting and self testisement will lead to the clearing of your mind and the salvation of your eternal soul.
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Our mystery drama, The Monk and the Hangman's Daughter, was especially adapted from the Ambrose Bierce classic for the mystery theater by Arnold and Stella Moss. It stars Christopher Tabory. It is sponsored in part by Luden's Medicated Cough Drops and Buick Motor Division.
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Dreams. We all seek to understand the many ways in which god reveals his word. Throughout time, God has spoken to man in dreams. Jehovah said in the Old Testament, listen to my words. If a man be a prophet, I make myself known to him in visions. I speak to him in dreams. So pay attention to your own dreams. They might well reveal flashes of the future, predictions, and warnings of things to come. They may give you a glimpse of God's guidance to lead you back to the peace and security of his way. For your free booklet on dreams, write to the Foundation Church, eleven forty seven first Avenue, New York, New York one double o two one.
That's the Foundation Church, eleven forty seven First Avenue, New York, New York one double o two one.
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The Bavarian
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the firm hand of a prince of the church and was the busy center of religious activity. On the May in the year 1680, '2 monks in their early twenties, Friar Ambosius and Friar Romanos, members of the Order of Saint Francis, were summoned to an audience with their superior.
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You may enter Who is that? I cannot see your faces very well.
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It is brother Romanus and I, brother Ambrosius. You sent for us, reverend father.
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I am pleased with the good reports I have received. Your humility, your dedication to prayer, your help to the poor have prepared you for further test of your vocation. Yes, father? You and brother Romanos have been assigned to the monastery at Berchtesgaten, high in our beloved Bavarian Alps. The monastery at Berchtesgaten?
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A place of barren, dismal mountains. The forests are said to be haunted by evil spirits.
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Tales are told of demons who dwell in a bottomless black lake. It is unbecoming of you to fear old wives' tales about demons and malevolent spirits. We understand, father. If we wish to become priests in the service of God,
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we must do as we are bidden. Forgive us, reverend father.
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We will obey. The way is long. The road is hard. The snow from the towering ice covered mountains will be melting at this time of the year. You must place yourselves in the hands of God and have faith. We will do as you say, father. We will pray for strength and courage. You should be safe in the hands of father Andreas in Berchtesgaden in less than a week. When do we leave? After morning prayers. Oh, one last thing. Yes, father? Whatever happens on the way, I remind you that faith is the beginning and the end of everything, the strength of use, the support of age, the pillar of life itself.
May we have your blessings. You are the children of God, and he will protect you.
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In an hour brother Romanos and I were on our way. The first few days of our journey made us forget the sadness of party. How bright the colors of the countryside are. The air smells so clean. The first signs of spring, how good the earth is as God made it. Every blade of grass, every flower, each living thing, a hymn of praise to his glory. But on the fifth day, all was changed. We found ourselves high in the mountains in a freezing alpine wilderness, untouched as yet by spring. We were struggling against a blinding snowstorm. Stay as close to me as you can, brother Romanes.
Be careful where you place your feet. I can just barely see you ahead of me.
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The as of the mountains cannot bring much farther. We must go forward or we shall freeze to death.
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Oh. But what's that? It sounds like fullness and snow.
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Like sliding rocks and avalanche. Saint Francis, protect us. So just pray Romans. Dear lord, dear lord, have mercy. Mama, where are you? So look at me. Praise. I'm unharmed. And you, Ambrosius, have been spared too. It is a miracle the avalanche did not touch us. Strange. How still everything has become. Snow and wind have stopped as suddenly as they began. Huge trees plucked from the earth by their roots hurled down the mountainside. Look, Ambrosius. We we we've arrived at the pass we were searching for, the way over the mountain to Bergdis Garden. Twisted, gorgeous, tangled, ill smelling forest.
The mouth of hell must look like this. Why is the air so cold and hard to breathe?
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There's nothing to fear, Romans. Lift up your crucifix and hold it before you as we walk. We must move on. Ambrosius,
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look above us. Great, ugly birds of prey. We must have startled them from their nests. They sit like mournful sentinels waiting for us to take one false step to plunge us to our death. That will not happen, Romanes. You and I have a mission to fulfill.
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Nothing can bar our way. No bird, no beast, no devil.
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The next morning, we moved safely down the treacherous mountain path. As the darkness disappeared, we saw before us a gently flowing stream spanned by a small bridge. On the opposite bank was a meadow covered with beautiful flowers. For several days, we had seen no dwelling, no human being, but now we beheld a sight that made our blood run cold. Oh, I feel fame, brother Ambrosius. Look there. On the other side of the bridge, in the center of the meadow, on gallows, and hanging from it the lifeless body of a man, a rope around his neck. A face looks toward us as if it had been turned to welcome us. The body is not yet stiff with death. He must have been hanged this very day. But why here? Why should there be a gallows here where there seems to be Whose voice is that? A dead man swings from the gallows and someone sings another evil spirit?
The smell of death is in the air. You're with your bed? Do not touch that button. Let us hide ourselves behind these bushes and these empresses. Only have another creature of Satan that girl may really be. How beautiful she is. See how she chases the vultures from that poor righteous body and places flowers at the foot of the gallows. Oh, you terrible bird. Leave his place. Way. And Proseus Go. The air hammer has suddenly become like ice around me. But No. I am warm. The sun feels good to me. This chill is worse than that of the highest mountain. It cannot be a human chill or I would feel it too.
A human chill? What are you thinking? There is an ancient belief that when a chill seizes a human body for no good reason Yes. I remember. It There's a sign that someone standing close by is stepping on the very spot that will someday be your grave. How strange to choose gone as suddenly as it came. The girl is crossing the bridge in Proseus. She's coming this way. She is the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.
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Good morning, holy brothers. Why do you laugh? You can come out from your hiding place. I have known you were there from the very start. Where were you hiding?
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Well, we did not wish to frighten you.
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I am not easily frightened.
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The man who was hanging from the gallows Yes? Do you know why he was hanged?
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He killed a man. That is why. A murderer? They quarreled over the lovable woman, so they say. And he plunged a knife into the heart of the other man.
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Did you know him? Are you related to him? Oh, no. Well, then why do you bring flowers for him? No one else will.
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I always do when someone has been hanged. I bring the flowers and frighten away the ravens and the vultures.
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Who are you?
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Benedicta.
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Oh, that's a beautiful name. I am brother Ambrosius. This is brother Romans. You chase the vultures who wish to feed on the bodies of those who've been hanged. Why does your mother allow this?
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My mother is dead.
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You have a father? Yes. Then let us take you to him. You should not be wandering about alone. There may be dangers here for you. Oh, it could not be safer.
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You see that clearing through the trees? If you look closely, you will see a hut. It looks more fit for animals than for humans. That is where I live with my father.
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That is your home? Yes. You have no neighbors? None. Are you and your father so poor that you must live so close to the gallows in such a miserable hovel?
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He is not well paid for the work he does.
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As you see from our robes, we are in the service of Saint Francis. God has placed us here in Bethas Garden to help others. Perhaps we can help you. Who are you, Benedicta? And who is your father?
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My father is the hangman. The hangman? And I am the hangman's daughter.
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The sins of the father shall be visited upon the child. But what if a child is punished and humiliated, not for a father's sins, but because his livelihood is considered loathsome and even unholy by the rest of the community, like a hangman.
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I'll be back shortly with act two. You can have great taste, lots of great taste and taste with blue beans. They're better treated, call drops with great taste in every box, wild cherry sweet and savory, and bone cumin flavoring. I need no way to wish with lemon. I'll make the show
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else now.
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Who am I kidding? Where are those kids gonna find a place to stay out of trouble around here? Tough problems call for real solutions, not just talk. If your community has a problem, you need action. Action is skilled volunteers of all ages working together to help solve tough community problems. Write action, department q, Washington DC two zero five two five. Between us, there's got to be a solution. This is a public service of this station and the advertising council.
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See your doctor, get back on your treatment, treat your high blood pressure, and live. A public service message of this station in the advertising council.
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We return to the year 1680. The two young monks, Ambrosius and Romanos, have been exposed to many strange happenings since they left the security of the Passau Monastery. Not least among these, for Friar Ambrosius, has been his first encounter with a beautiful young girl. But remembering his holy mission, he tightens the hempen core that encircles his slim waist and proceeds with Friar Romanus toward their destination, the monastery of Berchtesgaden, high in the Bavarian Alps. Ambrosius,
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why did you offer that girl your friendship? Why not? Was the daughter of the hangman you know as well as I that she's considered impure and unchristian? But she's so young, Romanos, innocent and beautiful. In the eyes of the church, the hangman and all his family are an abomination. Why else are they made to sit apart from all the others in the darkest corner of the church? Why should Benedicta deserve such a faith? That is not for us to decide. A hangman after all is only a tool of the law. He must do as he is told. And we must do the same. It is not for us to question. Put Benedicta out of your thoughts before she takes possession of your soul.
Come, brother. Father Andreas awaits us.
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Welcome to our monastery of Berchtesgaden. I'm pleased to be here, father Andres. And I, reverend father? There will be a change from the life you've been accustomed to. Our village people here are mostly
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salt miners, a proud and stubborn group. We will do our best, reverend father. You have only to instruct us. The salt master
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rules the village. He's a man of power and authority. Keep out of his way if you can. You're not listening, brother Ambrosius. Your mind seems to be elsewhere. Oh, forgive me, father. The long journey has wearied me. I was saying, the salt master is not easy to deal with, nor is his son, Rosias. A young man not much older than you, handsome, willful, undisciplined, he too exercises much power. He also creates problems. What kind of problems? Whether a young, pretty maidens, he's quick to pick a quarrel. We shall avoid him.
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Have we your permission to leave? You may go, Romanos.
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I shall be here whenever you need me. Thank you. Thank you, Reverend Father.
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If I may, I will go too?
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Not yet, bro Ambrosius. Something seems to be disturbing you. Perhaps I can be of help.
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Father Andreas, there is a serious matter that I I Yes?
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I believe I may be in deep trouble.
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What have you done? It's nothing that I've done. It is my thoughts that trouble me. Oh, with God's help, we can take care of that. I am full of fear. So much so, I cannot reveal to you what I should. Cannot?
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For you need have no fear of me. I'm frightened of myself, father.
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Let me go to my cell to meditate and pray.
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Evening prayers. You may go to your cell. Thank you, father. And, remember, brother Ambrosius, there are no secrets in this monastery.
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My spirit remained in turmoil. I could not find the strength to confess to our unbelief. Why can I not wipe out all thoughts of Benedicta from my mind? On my way to morning prayers, I saw her standing outside the church alone. The square was filled with people, but they avoided her as if she were a leper. Compassion filled my heart and compelled me to approach her. God's greeting, Benedikta. Are you afraid to speak to me? We are being watched, brother Ambrosius.
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I fear for you, not for myself.
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Do good. Obey the Lord and fear no one. I thank you, my Lord. I am no Lord Benedicta. I am a servant of God.
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I must go into the church, see how they are watching us and whispering. Come. I will go with you. It is not wise, brother Ambrosius. They will make you pay dearly for this.
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You have brought shame on yourself, brother Ambrosius, and on all of us. What devil possessed you that you should walk into the house of the Lord side by side with the daughter of the hangman? I pitied her. The people treat her as if she were mortal sin itself. You have angered and outraged everyone in Berthtesgaden. The salt master and his son, Rochez, have already brought complaints against you. I followed my conscience, father. Your conscience? Your conscience is the voice of God, not of your own making. What has come over you that you show so little respect, so little humility?
Why do you not accept my censure and say that you repent? I ask your forgiveness, father, but I cannot say that I repent. My feelings for Benedicta are mercy and compassion. Would you have me repent though? Hold your tongue. But father, I Silence. I have heard enough. You sadden and anger me beyond patience and endurance. I'm sorry, Father. You leave me no choice. I must commit you to a long period of strict atonement and hard penance. Is it be your will? You will be confined to your cell where silence, fasting, and self chastisement will bring you to your senses.
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Locked away from the beautiful outdoors which I loved, denying myself food and drink, I knelt day and night in endless prayer until a high fever and delirium came upon me. When the fever finally subsided, I stood one day at the grate of my cell window looking out at the high mysterious mountains on which the monastery had been built so that no unwanted visitor could disturb our seclusion. Brother Ambrosius,
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can you hear me? But evil spirit torments me with Benedictus' voice. I am no evil spirit.
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I am here at the bars of your window. No. That that's not possible. No one can climb these rocks. I can and I have. Look up. You see? I am standing on a narrow ledge outside the window. How did you get here?
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Why have you come? I heard you were ill. I brought you a gift for your goodness to me.
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A gift?
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I will toss it through the bars of your window. There. Do you like it?
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Oh, it is the most strangely beautiful bunch of flowers I've ever seen. There's no fragrance. Only woolly leaves that are as soft and white as snow. It is called Edelweiss. Edelweiss? It grows only among the highest and most fearful rocks. Oh, then it was dangerous for you to gather them. I'm as sure footed as any goat. Now promise me you will never again climb these evil rocks. I fear for your safety. I must go, brother Ambrosius.
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They must not find me here. Darkness is beginning to fall. I will see you soon again.
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Who knocks? It is I, brother Romanos. I bring you food and drink.
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Come in. Please set it down. Why is your face so flushed? Your eyes so bright? Have you a fever again? Oh, no. No. It's it's only What are you hiding behind your back? A bunch of edelweiss. Where did you get it? Benedictor brought it for me. She threw it in through the bars of my window. Benedictor. Her. No girl could scale those mountain peaks. She was here, standing on the ledge, just outside my window. Let me have the Edelweiss. It is against the rule of austerity to have flowers in your cell. It can only lead to more trouble for you. Will you tell father Andres? Do not be concerned.
I will put them on the altar in the church. Then let them be an offering in Benedicta's name. No, brother Ambrosius. It will be an offering in your name. It is you who need it even more than Benedicta. Why do you say that? Because in Berchtesgaden, these flowers are a sign of faithful love. Faithful love? Young men present them to the girls they wish to marry. What what are you saying? However you came by them, brother, these flowers are not meant for you. Weeks later, I was released from my solitary cell in order to help at a great festival that the monastery was celebrating. The entire village gathered in the square to watch the holy procession.
At the feast, I served platters piled high with steamed food and poured endless goblets of the brown and bitter drink that they all loved. As I did so, a handsome young man approached me, a wild looking girl hung to his arm.
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Are you the monk, Amphosius?
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I am Friar Ambrosius. Mhmm. The same who gave offense to this village some weeks ago with his attentions to the hangman's daughter. Oh, let the handsome monk be. Shut up, Adam. I'm a son of the salt master. My name is Rocheous.
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I've heard of you. Uh-huh. Then hear more.
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If you ever again show friendship for Benedict, I shall teach you a lesson you will not soon forget. I intend no offense to anyone, my lord. Roche has take my hand and dance with me. Now find yourself another dancing partner, Hamil. I have other plans. Someone is waiting for me.
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Brother and Rosas. Yes. Rosas has his eye on the hangman's daughter.
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War on her against him.
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Why do you tell me this? I love Lucius, and she will listen to you.
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Lock in the clearing.
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The full moon shining down on them.
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They are dancing together. Lucius and Benedicta. He ordered her to. No one refuses
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him. And besides, look at her. She does not seem unwilling.
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Her eyes are looking straight into his.
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A smile on her face. No one misses the salt master's son. See how closely he holds her. Stop them, brother Ambrosius. Stop them. She shall not have her. I shall see her pretty face marked with blood before he takes her. Musicians,
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stop playing. Stop the playing in the name of God. Stop. Benediktter.
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Benediktter. Where is everyone?
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Where have they gone?
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Why is it so silent? Why am I so alone? Amula? Amula? Where are you? Mother Andreas, I beg of you not to believe the words of Amula. She has borne false witness against Benedicta.
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Amula would not lie even against the hangman's daughter. Benedicta did not act in a shameless manner with all the men. She only danced with Roshes. Can you not understand that it is unbecoming of you to defend her? Are you possessed of demons? But who will protect her against Amula's hate? I speak the truth. And what would you have me do? I beg you, reverend father. Be her protector. I cannot, but I will not. For your sake as well as her own, Benedicta must learn her lesson. Learn her lesson? Tomorrow, they take her to the pillory in the whipping post. But for whipping post is intended for for For girls who behave in a shameless manner.
The salt master has ordered it. She will be stoned. And what about poor father? Her father will be with her. He will lead her through the streets by a rope around her waist. It is the duty of his hangman's office.
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What beasts we human beings can be sometimes. What misery and injustice there is in this world. Say no more, brother Ambrosius.
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Perform the duties of your office and let the world and the hangman perform theirs. But how can I do nothing to prevent Benedictus' public disgrace? You will do nothing. You will be locked in your cell. God and Saint Francis forgive you, brother Ambrosus. I
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cannot. Dear god in heaven, my prayer, bless Benedicta in a time of trouble. Give her strength that she may build the trials that are put upon her. Give me light that I may walk the right path. Prime filled with the tunnels of emotions and confusion. Can father Andres be right? Do I love Benedicta as a man who loves a woman? Forgive me if I sin, but I cannot put Benedicta out of my mind. Try as I will, I cannot.
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James Montgomery once wrote, prayer is the soul's sincere desire, uttered or unexpressed, the motion of a hidden fire that trembles in the breast. So it was with young Friar Ambrosius long, long ago. He prayed and fasted and fasted and prayed until one day, he believed he had an answer. I'll tell you more about it when I return shortly with act three.
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Hello there. This is Jim Backus. You know, I asked my friend, mister Magoo, have you ever heard of the disease of prosperity? You probably have, only you've heard of it as heart attack. It's called the disease of prosperity because the risk factors that increase the chances of heart attack are usually the result of prosperous living conditions. Childhood habits. Some children get in the habit of watching TV instead of exercising. Smoking often begins in the teens or sometimes even earlier. And by the time they reach middle age, many of them are overweight, inactive, and have high levels of cholesterol and other fatty substances in the blood.
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Tormented by Benedicta's public disgrace and weakened by the long rigors of solitary prayer and fasting, there was a recurrence of illness and fever in Ambrosius. On the one hand, he yearned to protect Benedicta. On the other, he was relentlessly pursued by his religious conscience. Torn both in mind and body,
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the young monk appeared before his superior. May I speak with you, father Andreas? I am here to be of help whenever I can.
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Since I have recovered from my illness and delirium, the other friars look at me strangely as if they no longer regard me as one of them. They avoid me whenever they can. I am aware of that,
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and I have given it much thought. You are to leave us for a season. Leave the monastery. To dwell in greater solitude among the highest mountains. There, God will restore both your physical and spiritual strength. I submit to your will, your reverence. Do you wish to discuss the tales of the told of the evil spirits that inhabit those high peaks? If it is God's will, I will escape their spells and enchantments and come back to the monastery as you would have me. Someone will show me the way? Yes. And then leave you. As you say, father.
And, Ambrosius, my son. Yes, your reverence. Whatever demons or devils men may encounter in high mountains, remember, there are none so evil as those we find within ourselves.
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Up hill and down, through shadowy forests and across dark ravines, my guide led me to my new destination. We crossed a fearful lake in a clumsy little boat, and so strange objects
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become dimly visible and then disappear. Trees, half submerged, flood the air like bones of some monstrous skeleton.
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I stared awestruck at the terrifying stone peaks piled to the sky.
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He led me to a miserable hut built of rough rock where a narrow stone bench was to be my bed.
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You must be cold and hungry, brother Ambrosius, after your long trip.
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Benedictus voice? It cannot be. You will not be alone, my good friend. I will be here whenever you need me. How How can such things be?
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Where are you Benedicta?
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Warm yourself by the fire. Look. I have built one for you.
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Let me see your face.
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If only for a moment, I You will find warm food in those pots hanging over the fire. And on the stone table, there is a pan of fresh milk and a piece of yellow butter.
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But they were not there when I came in. How did they come here? I brought them.
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And some fresh baked black bread and a fine white cheese.
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Thank you, Benedikta.
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Eat, brother Ambrosius. The black light journey is a hard one. Did you know it is said that the lake reaches straight down to her?
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I do not fear such things.
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These mountains are filled with dangers, even for holy men. Show yourself, Benedicta.
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I will not eat the food or drink the milk until I have seen you. No. Don't leave Benedicta. There is something you must tell me. The next morning, I felt as one in a dream. A fire burned brightly in the fireplace.
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Bread, butter, small cakes, and fresh milk were again on the stone table. There was even fresh dried grass from my hard stone bed.
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As I ate hungrily
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I am glad to see you eating, brother on Roche's. You will need your strength in this new way of life.
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The sound of a voice is welcome in these lonely mountains,
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Then it is not enough, Benedicta.
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It must suffice. Why?
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If only you would tell me why. I cannot.
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It is not for you to question. Look. I have brought you a short pointed spade and a hand and guide. When you are finished eating, I will show you where the roots grow that you must eat for father Andreas.
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I'm grateful for your help. Meanwhile,
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here are some roots I gathered for you to taste. You should know the flavor as well as how they look. Bite into them bravo ambrosius.
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They're they're like it's like nothing I've ever tasted before. Good.
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Are they not good? Indeed, Benedicta.
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Strange, but good.
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Very, very good.
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The next thing I knew, I was on the brink of an abyss directly above the terrible black lake and another cliff overhanging the water. I could see a few cows and sheep grazing in an unexpected pasture. A thin column of smoke was rising from a perilously placed stone cabin, leaning against a tree, her face pale as marble, her eyes sunken inside, her hair flowing over her shoulders like threads of gold was Benedicta. Tears seamed on her keys. Benedicta, what has happened? What are you doing so far away from home? Why do you weep so? My
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my father is dead. God bless his soul. My my father is dead.
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I show your affliction.
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How did you die? Of grief. If my mother did before him, He would not kill a worm or a beetle. He was compelled to kill men with a hangman's rope or brother ambrosious. He was unhappy in every way. Cannot wait, sir Benedict? His father and his father's father before him. Hangmen all. And the awful inheritance filter him. Benedicta,
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fry your tears. Brother Ambrosius.
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It was the salt miners who killed my parents as surely as it was they who unjustly laid hands on me.
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You must find it in your heart to forgive them, Benedikta. Terrible injustices have been committed against you and your family, but you must trust in God. What is it become of me in this lonely and desolate place?
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There is only one person who cares to see me and he We will help each other, Benedicta.
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I will pray to God and he will surely show us the way. Even the cactus do everything I touch?
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No. I had better go. No. One moment, Benedikt.
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There's something I must ask you.
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What is it?
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Hovland, no. I see you clearly. Why could I not see you when you came to my hut? Why is it I could only hear your voice?
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I did not come to your hut, brother Ambrosia. It is a sin to lie. I speak the truth. I did not come to your hut. Forgive me, but I must go now. Roshus is waiting for me.
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Roshus. The name of the salt master's son stuck against my heart like a stone. That night, my heart seemed too narrow to hold me. The air too heavy and hot to sustain life. Going outside, I lay upon a rock and steadied the sky, dark and glittering with stars. It was unmistakably the voice of Benedicta. Now it came from one direction, now from another. It came from the Earth, from the air, from the sky.
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Wait.
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Benedicta, I'm coming to you. You've only to show me the way.
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I fell into the creams of the forest along the Black Lake, stumbling and falling over rocks and tree stumps. My limbs were bruised, my robe torn.
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Suddenly, against the starry sky, I saw the outline of a hunting lodge. A well worn path led to Benedictus Cabin. For it, in the brightening light, stood Rosius.
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What brings you here, Friar Ambrosius? When last I saw you, you were safely cloistered in the Monastery Of Berthas Garden where you belong. Where is Benedicta?
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And Semiroshus? Must you meddle always in other people's lives, you and what you call by the name of virtue? You may despise me if you wish, but you will not harm Benedict. I do not wish to hurt a man of the cloth, but I am not known for my patience. I carry a knife, and on occasion, I do not hesitate to use it. You will not go to Benedictus cabin.
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I will not fight with knives, Rosias. But unarmed and equal, we will fight to the death if you wish, and the lord shall decide. Oh, you're a brave monk.
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Very well. I'll toss my knife to the
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ground. But I warn you. You face a strong enemy. I I know the edges of these principles are far better than you.
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I suck. You are brave in that hell, but as if the thought about the black
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I have a lung for your throat.
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I will free myself. See how close you are to the edge of a precipice?
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I could hurl you down like a small throne if I choose. But I will not. I do not really care to take your life. For the truth is you cannot stand in my way. You will leave Benedicte to me, for he is already mine.
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Benedicta, is yours? I've kept on waiting long enough.
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You may rise, brother Ambrosius. The Lord, as you said, has
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decided. Why did the lord allow Roshes to overcome me? Why move him to spare my life? Some power impelled me to look down at my feet. There lay the answer. The knife that Roshes had flung to the ground. I saw plainly as envisioned the act which I had been preserved to do. Later that night, I went to Benedictus cabin. I could hear her singing. It's when I first saw her standing beneath the gallows.
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Open the door, Benedicta. It is I, Brother Ambrosius.
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Why have you come at such a later? Let me in, Benedicte.
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My errand is brief.
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You look distressed, Brother Ambrosius. Can I bring you food or drink?
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Your face is full of happiness. And only a short time ago, I left you in sorrow and despair. Why did you come here?
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Oh, you are pale and shake with cold. I'm here because God sent me.
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Tell me why you were singing, Benedikta.
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Tell me why you look so radiant. Is it because you are the mistress of Roshes?
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I assume. Because tonight, I am happy. I am sorry to hurt you, but I am not ashamed. Roshes has been here. He's going to bless his garden to persuade his father to remove the curse of the hangman for my life. Oh, foolish Benedicta.
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There's not much time left. You are before me that I may forgive your sins.
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You frighten me. I've never seen you like this. You need not be afraid.
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I here and now give you absolution without repentance. I free your soul from the pain of sin because, Benedicta, you will atone with your blood and your life. You have done a knife.
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Do you recognize it? It belongs to Roshes. What do you need to do?
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Roshes, Roshes, help me. Help me. My My blood is, your hair, brother, brush. I love you, Benediktter. Your hair.
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What terrible thing have you done, Ambrosius?
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I cannot wash the blood from my hands, father and dress. Not the stains from my garments. I've tried,
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but I cannot. Whosoever slays a fellow being, he shall be slain. That is the law of God and of man. I am prepared, reverend father. You will first be taken to the tower. Then tomorrow at sunrise, you will be led to the gallows and hanged by the neck until dead.
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The ways of the Lord are mysterious. When I saw Benedicta for the first time, and I said she will shoot me from head to toe, I spilled my veins. She was standing beneath the gallows, and brother Romano said that she was standing on my grave.
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Do do you have a last request, my son? Yes, father.
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What is it? The vultures. After I am hanged, perhaps someone could chase them away from my poor dead body.
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And so according to the diary of brother Ambrosius, on the October 1681, he was hanged by the neck until dead. On the day immediately following, he was buried in the unconsecrated
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ground beneath the gallows close to the body of the girl he murdered.
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But the tale of a monk and a hangman's daughter did not end with their deaths. According to an old manuscript discovered years later in the monastery, but, I'm getting ahead of myself, this story has the strangest ending.
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I will be back with it shortly.
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Air pollution is a man made product that grew up in a machine age. The result of a means to an end, but the end must change if we're to continue breathing. We can clean up the air perhaps even in your time, but we need your help. Won't you? Join with your lung association in the fight against air pollution. It's a matter of life and
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The manuscript discovered in an old forgotten crypt related how Ambrosius was buried next to Benedicta. Then it went on with these words. This Benedicta, though called the hangman's daughter, was as is now known through declarations of the youth, Rocheous, the illegitimate
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child of the salt master by the hangman's wife.
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Pray for the hangman and all his family. Pray for the soul of brother Ambrosius who might have been a faithful servant of the Lord. Pray for them. Pray for them. Our cast included Christopher DeBorey, Arnold Moss, E. V. Jester, and Russell Horton. The entire production was under the direction of Hyman Brown.
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And now
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a preview of our next tale. Everything was spinning round as I lay down and I must have fallen asleep so deep I didn't say the radio was playing. Uh-huh. Hello? Why did I do that? Because you hated
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her. You've always hated her, haven't you? Radio Mystery Theater was sponsored in part by True Value Hardware Stores.
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This is EG Marshall inviting you to return to our mystery theater for another adventure in the macabre.
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Until next time, pleasant dreams.