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Fifty years ago, Paris was a lighthearted city,

the goal of many a traveler.

But some came not for gaiety, but to work, to study

at one of the world's most famous universities, the Sorbonne.

To its lecture rooms and classes

came students from all over the world,

and among them was a young girl.

She was poor. She was beautiful.

She had left her homeland and family.

And here, in Paris, she was alone,

haunted by dreams and invincibly eager.

...go out alone into space.

Go out alone.

You are a hundred here. One hundred students.

But when it is time for you to think,

you, too, will be alone,

like the author of this equation,

like Newton, let us say, or Galileo.

Probably it will not be your good fortune to reach so high

to catch a star on your fingertips.

To catch a star on your fingertips.

But this you can share with them.

You can learn to be alone with nature,

with a ray of light, a piece of earth, a drop of rain.

You can become aware of the earth whirling about the sun

at the rate of 66,000 miles per hour.

Aware that the...

What... What... What-What's that?

You are feeling better?

Sit, sit still a moment. You fainted.

I... I'm sorry I interrupted the lecture so stupidly.

You can get the notes from some other student.

Your name is Marie Sklodowska? Yes.

You are working for two master's degrees,

one in physics and one in mathematics?

You passed first in the mathematics examination last year?

Yes.

What did you have to eat today?

Eat? Yes, eat.

I don't remember. I had some lunch.

What did you have?

Some... All sorts of things.

You have a pleasant room?

Yes, monsieur.

Good.

Put on your hat and coat.

Come along.

Come along, please.

It is rather unusual to have no friends here in Paris.

I have little time for friends.

Usually there is some young man.

I am interested in physics and mathematics.

Yes, so am I.

And yet I have a wife, and a home, and a daughter

and two granddaughters.

I'm afraid I would never be up to that.

Your desire is to go back to Poland and to teach?

Yes.

Your parents are in Warsaw?

My father is a physics professor.

He is old.

When I have my degrees, I shall go back and live with him.

You love Poland.

Oh, yes. I love Poland.

Physics and mathematics and Poland.

Yes.

Eat your soup.

Thank you very much.

The Society of National Industry has asked me

to recommend someone to make a study of the magnetic properties

of various steels.

I would be glad to recommend you, if you wish.

There would be some recompense, of course.

I don't know exactly what...

Oh, it wouldn't matter. Really, it wouldn't.

I would be so grateful.

Of course, you would require rather cumbersome equipment.

Too cumbersome for our laboratories, I am afraid.

However, I know a scientist of great merit

who works in the school of physics and chemistry.

Perhaps he might have a workroom available.

Come and have tea Sunday with my wife and me.

I will ask him to come, too.

You probably know his name. It is Pierre Curie.

Oh, thank you so much. Thank you. You have been very kind.

Not at all, not at all.

Goodbye, then. Until Sunday. Sunday.

Good night.

Good night.

"To catch a star

"on your fingertips."

Ah! Madame Perot?

Oh, you are Mademoiselle Marie Sklodowska,

I know it. Yes.

We've been waiting for you. My husband has told me all about you.

Ah, Professor Curie, how nice. Madame.

You two have met?

Uh, I've not had the honor in the hallway of...

This is Mademoiselle Marie Sklodowska.

Professor Pierre Curie.

My husband said that you have no friends in Paris.

But that's impossible, my child. We must remedy that.

Please, Professor, come in, come in. I'm sure you know everyone here.

In Paris, you must have many friends.

I want you to meet all these charming...

May I introduce you to...

From time to... Oh, pardon me, gentlemen.

Dr. Curie.

Good afternoon, Professor Perot. Good afternoon.

I had no idea it was going to be, uh, a--a party.

Nor I, believe me, monsieur.

They spring up suddenly, these parties,

out of the goodness of women's hearts.

My wife wished a young student of mine to make many friends.

Well, I'm very bad at parties.

It's-- It's impossible for me to focus.

My mind won't follow the most simple thought. Um...

Oh, I--I--I beg your pardon.

No, you are quite right.

Well, then, maybe, uh, I'll come back some other day.

No, no, no.

I wanted to talk to you about a student of mine. Oh.

Perhaps we could find a quiet corner

and have a few moments' talk. Of course, of course.

And as this student has very little money

and is, I believe, extremely talented,

I thought you might have a workroom available

at the school of physics and chemistry.

Well, I should be very glad.

Unfortunately, at the moment we are extremely crowded ourselves.

Oh, in that case...

However, my own workroom is quite large.

I would hesitate to ask you to share your own laboratory.

I, uh, I have shared it with students before.

You have? Yes. And some of them

were very quiet and pleasant.

On the other hand, one fellow was most troublesome.

He--He used to whistle constantly.

Well, I can assure you that this student is very serious.

Then I should be very happy, of course.

I'll see if I can find her.

I think you'll find that she's very sincere.

She?

Oh, my granddaughters. These are my granddaughters.

Excuse me. But, uh...

Mademoiselle. Mademoiselle.

Would you have a tea or coffee?

Yes, thank you. Tea.

That's coffee.

Oh-oh.

That's coffee, too.

...going to play the piano. Please sit down, everybody.

Sit down here a moment, yes.

Come along, come along, children.

It's time for your performance.

You'll excuse them, Dr. Curie. They are going to play the piano.

Come along, come along, yes.

There they are, yes.

This is the student of whom we were speaking.

Mademoiselle Sklodowska, Dr. Pierre Curie.

We have already met.

Dr. Curie is gracious.

He consented to let you work in his laboratory.

I am very grateful.

Um, of course. I had no idea that, uh...

Won't--Won't you sit down, mademoiselle?

Oh, you will excuse me, please.

I fear my grandchildren are about to entertain.

Would you care for tea?

Thank you, I've just had some. Oh.

It's coffee.

I appreciate very deeply, Dr. Curie,

the privilege of working in your laboratory.

They play incredibly badly, don't you think?

Very badly, Dr. Curie.

Of--Of course, I'm no judge.

Professor Perot is an excellent scientist.

Well, good morning, Dr. Curie.

Good morning, David.

The furnace is taken down and I'm beginning to set up

for room temperature readings.

I have the sulfates all ready for you.

Thank you.

Um, no one has arrived yet?

Here at the laboratory? Yes.

No, sir. Are you expecting someone?

Well, there's a pupil of Professor Perot's

who's going to be doing some work here.

For a short time. Yes, sir.

Her name is Maria...

Uh...

That's funny. I ought to remember it, I was introduced to her twice.

Um... Sklodowska.

She's a girl.

Oh.

Well, I--I didn't find out in time.

Always the continual struggle against woman, David.

When we wish to give all our thoughts to some work

which estranges us from humanity,

we always have to struggle against woman.

Yes, sir. And women scientists are particularly unattractive, I find, sir.

Woman loves life for the living of it.

In the world of abstract research,

she's a danger, a distraction.

She's the natural enemy of science.

There's no doubt of it, sir.

Women and science are incompatible.

Women of genius are rare.

No true scientist can have anything to do with women.

No, sir.

Anyway, David, put her over there in that far corner.

Yes, sir. And if you can, without being rude,

inform her how important silence is to laboratory work.

Yes, sir.

I do hope she doesn't whistle.

Oh, uh, David, would you mind going to the storeroom upstairs

and see if there's a magnetometer?

She'll need one for her experiments.

Oh, yes, sir.

I, uh... I'm very sorry, sir.

Hmm.

I beg your pardon. Are you looking for something?

Yes, I am looking for Dr. Curie's laboratory.

You're looking...

But you're not... I mean, you can't be... Excuse me, please.

Oh, no, you don't understand. You see, I'm Dr. Curie's assistant.

Oh. Oh, then perhaps you can direct me.

Well, I certainly can, I certainly can. Well...

Just this way. Thank you.

Well, now, what do you think of that?

I ran straight into you the first thing.

You know, Dr. Curie has asked me to look out for you,

be sure that you have everything you want.

So I'll just take everything into my own hands.

Oh, here we are.

Here she is, Dr. Curie. Ran straight into her the first thing.

Oh.

Good morning, mademoiselle. Good morning, Dr. Curie.

This time we meet in rather a less confused atmosphere.

Yes. Well, that's as it should be.

People interested in work should be alone.

You have met my assistant? Yes.

I don't think I quite caught his name.

David. David Le Gros.

Uh, I'm sure that David will see that you are properly installed.

Thank you very much, Dr. Curie.

I appreciate this chance more than I can say.

Not at all, not at all, mademoiselle.

And I do hope you'll be quite comfortable.

Over this way.

We picked out an especially nice place for you right over here.

You're going to have this far corner all to yourself.

Of course, we would have had it fixed up for you,

had we known sooner that you were coming,

but we'll take care of that right away.

How do you think this is going to suit you?

Oh, it is excellent.

I understand you're a pupil of Professor Perot's. Yes.

I've studied with him, too. Wonderful, isn't he?

Yes, he is.

Oh, I'll give you a little more light. Please, don't bother.

Dr. Curie wants you to be comfortable.

I'm sorry, Dr. Curie.

Here's some paper and pencil.

You can make out a list of all the things you need

and I'll go up and see if I can get a magnetometer for you.

Thank you.

I can take my coat off.

Oh, there's no reason why you should. Your hat?

I'll hang them up in the cupboard for you.

I'm sorry, Dr. Curie.

Let me help you. Oh, thank you.

You know, my office is just upstairs.

I hope you won't hesitate to call on me if I can be of any assistance.

You're very kind.

You're sure everything's all right? Quite. Thank you.

Not at all.

If there's anything you'd like to know about our equipment,

I'll be glad to explain it to you.

I wanted to give you some advice on where to eat around here.

There's a very nice little restaurant...

Really, monsieur, I don't think we should talk here.

But I'm whispering. I just thought you ought to know where to go.

Yes, but... I'll take you there today.

That'll be the best way. Please, don't trouble.

Oh, no trouble. No trouble at all.

I'll come back for you.

Good evening, mademoiselle. Good evening, Dr. Curie.

Miserable evening, isn't it? Yes, isn't it?

Oh, uh, by the way, did David get you the telescope scale

you were asking for last week?

Oh, yes, thank you very much. He finally located it.

Good, good. Well, good evening.

But you have no umbrella, mademoiselle.

No, I haven't, Dr. Curie.

I'm sorry. I didn't realize. Perhaps I can help you.

Oh, I don't want to trouble you.

Allow me. No trouble at all. No trouble at all.

Thank you.

You're very kind.

Not at all, mademoiselle.

May I ask you another question, Dr. Curie, in the same connection?

It's a simple matter perhaps, but it, it puzzles me.

Yes, mademoiselle?

In the symmetries L sub Q and 2L sub Q... Uh-huh.

...you include only those rotations

which are integral multiples of 2 pi over Q.

But 2 pi times K over Q excludes the identity transformation,

if K is not an integer.

Yes, for finite K, that applies. Uh-huh.

But in the limit L sub infinity, a difficulty seems to arise.

I don't see why. It's quite straightforward.

Well, if you consider the matter rigorously...

Hmm.

I'll have to look into that.

This is where I live.

Goodbye, and thank you.

Of course, of course.

Oh. Goodbye, mademoiselle.

And may I say your conversation is very scintillating.

Thank you.

It's an extremely daring hypothesis.

Good morning, mademoiselle. Good morning, Dr. Curie.

I'm a little late this morning. I had to stop in at my publisher's.

Uh, my book.

Oh, it's out?

One of the first copies. Just off the press.

"On Symmetry in Physical Phenomena:

"Symmetry of an Electric Field and of a Magnetic Field.

"By Pierre Curie."

That's something to be proud of.

Uh, I thought perhaps you might like to have a copy.

I would, very much.

Well, then, it's yours. It's yours, mademoiselle.

Oh, thank you. Uh, not at all.

Uh, I inscribed the book to you, mademoiselle, on the flyleaf.

I believe that's the usual procedure.

I'm very flattered.

Not at all.

Not at all.

Come in.

Oh, Dr. Becquerel.

I hope I'm not intruding, Dr. Curie,

but could you step over to my laboratory with me?

I think I've happened on something of great interest.

Why, what is it?

Are you too busy to... No, no, no. Not at all.

I'll come at once.

Oh, uh, aren't you coming, mademoiselle? If I may.

You don't mind... No, no, no. Come along. Delighted.

I came upon it quite by accident.

I think you'll agree that it's really very extraordinary.

What is the nature of it?

Well, what do you see?

You've taken the picture of a key, apparently.

Yes, the picture of a key.

But that picture of a key was taken in a very extraordinary manner.

The picture of that key was taken in complete and total darkness

without light of any kind.

But, uh, how is that possible?

Some months ago, I had the idea that perhaps certain rocks and minerals

might store up light and energy from the sun.

That if I left the rocks and minerals in the sun long enough,

they might absorb some of its rays and then later give them out.

So I made some photographic experiments.

You see these rocks? They're all different kinds of minerals.

I labeled them as you see, and left them outside in the sun for hours,

then I put them in this drawer

on photographic plates like this.

And then I waited to see if they would give up any sunlight

they might have absorbed.

I see. And your experiment was a success?

To the contrary, my experiment was a complete failure.

Not one of the rocks I'd exposed to the sun

affected the plates in any way.

See, there they are. They're all black. Every one of them.

Then how do you explain... Now look at this one, please.

That has been exposed. Am I right? Light has reached it.

Yes, that's been exposed.

This plate was lying in this drawer.

Quite by accident. I didn't even know it was there.

It's the drawer that I keep some of my specimens in.

And when I was putting my rocks back into the drawer,

one of them must have fallen on this plate without my knowing it.

I discovered it yesterday.

This is the rock that I had not yet exposed to the sun.

It's a piece of mineral-bearing ore called pitchblende.

To make sure there could be no mistake, last night, I, myself, here in this room,

in complete darkness took this rock,

which had never been exposed to the sun

and placed it on a photographic plate.

I put this metal key between the stone and the plate,

like this,

so that it would be photographed

if any light rays came from the stone.

A half hour ago, I developed the plate.

This is the result.

You mean then,

that there is something about that rock that gives off rays of its own.

Rays powerful enough to go through black paper

and affect this photographic plate.

That, monsieur, must be so.

It's incredible. It is incredible.

It's as if there were a piece of the sun locked up in here.

Strange. It's very strange.

What could it be? What could be the nature of the radiation?

What could be the origin of it?

Perhaps we shall never know.

It was very kind of you to take me to Dr. Becquerel's laboratory.

Not at all, not at all.

Dr. Curie,

I want to thank you also for allowing me to do my experiments

here in your laboratory.

I couldn't have done this work for the Society of Industry

if it hadn't been for your kindness.

You finished that already?

Yes, I had to do it quickly because I shall not have much time

from now on to come to the laboratory.

Why? What do you mean?

From now on, I shall have to spend most of my time studying.

My examinations come up in less than two weeks, you know.

So soon? I hadn't realized.

Yes, I've been here six months. It's the middle of June.

The term is nearly over.

How fast it goes.

Yes.

You know, a short time ago that tree was a skeleton.

I always used to look forward to my summers in the country,

but I'm only there at stray moments now,

when I go to visit my mother and father.

They have a small place outside of Paris at Sceaux.

I used to take long walks through the woods there with my brother Jacques.

Soon I shall be walking in the country.

My father loves to walk.

Your father? Is he here in Paris?

Oh, no, in Warsaw. But we get out of the city now and then.

Warsaw?

But you're not thinking of going to Warsaw.

Why, of course. But when?

As soon as I finish my examination. But for how long?

Why, for... Why, had you forgotten, Dr. Curie,

that if I pass my examinations, I'm going back to Poland to teach?

But I... Well, I knew that was your idea when you first came,

but everything has changed now.

You are making experiments of your own and...

I know, and I shall miss Paris, too.

But this is absurd, fantastic! Why, it never occurred to me.

Oh, I--I--I hadn't planned on this at all.

How can you dream of doing such a thing?

Abandon science when you're making such progress?

My father is getting old. He misses me.

But if you stay on in Poland, you can't possibly go on with your studies.

Anyone can teach, but you can do more. Much more.

You have a talent, a very definite talent, and it's your duty to use it,

with so much to be done, so much that's still undreamed of.

Oh, mademoiselle, I--I--I beg you to reconsider.

Oh, it's very kind of you, Dr. Curie.

I'm really flattered.

I'm afraid I can't give up the entire plan that I've had for so long.

I thought, of course, you knew.

I do not understand how anyone with a scientific mind

can entertain the thought of abandoning science.

I know.

But there are other things that are important, too.

Dr. Curie. Yes, mademoiselle.

I had meant to ask you. I suppose you wouldn't care to attend my graduation.

Well, I should enjoy very much seeing you get your degree,

but, well, I have, uh...

There's such a crowd always. Of course, of course.

I understand perfectly. I feel exactly the same way myself.

Well, I shall be coming in again, of course, to see to a few things.

Goodbye, Dr. Curie.

Goodbye, mademoiselle.

...we may well expect to hear again and again.

It will always be interesting to you to look back

and try to recall the personalities... Shh!

...of your classmates who have won fame.

The Sorbonne is the mother of learning,

and her children come from all the corners of the earth.

They come, they are nourished, and then they return to their homeland

to impart what they have received to others.

France is not depleted by what they take away.

The whole world is, in fact, enriched by what they learn.

And France, in particular, gains more than she gives

to these very earnest students.

Professor Constant, chairman of the committee on scholarship,

has gone over all the awards

and will read the names of the successful candidates.

It is my pleasure to introduce Professor Constant.

The names of those who have been awarded degrees

will be read in the order of merit.

For the degree of Master of Physics,

first, Marie Sklodowska.

Oh, Dr. Curie. Oh, hello, David.

Isn't she wonderful? First place in physics.

Did you know we had that all the time in the laboratory?

Yes, it's very gratifying.

Oh, I knew she was bright.

You haven't seen anything of Mademoiselle Sklodowska,

have you, David? Oh, yes, I saw her.

I had a nice talk with her. Congratulated her and everything.

She went straight home. Had some packing to do.

Packing? Well, she's leaving for Poland Tuesday.

Oh.

Well, goodbye, Dr. Curie. Awfully glad I ran into you.

Goodbye, David.

Ah, Dr. Curie.

How do you do, Professor? Lovely, wasn't it?

Packing... Yes, yes, wasn't it lovely?

Come in.

Come in.

Dr. Curie. How do you do?

Uh...

I--I missed you at the graduation exercise. I--I looked all over for you.

You were there? Yes.

Then you heard? Yes, I, uh...

My congratulations, mademoiselle. Thank you.

You know, I was, I was... Never dreamed that I would...

I mean, I was even afraid that I mightn't even... I...

Oh I... I am glad you were able to go.

Won't you sit down? Uh, thank you.

I met David,

and, uh, he told me that you were leaving for Poland on Tuesday.

Yes. I see.

Then you haven't reconsidered, mademoiselle?

I'm afraid not. Of course, of course.

I hoped, perhaps, you might have.

Um, you were packing?

Yes. Oh, yes. Yes, naturally.

Well, then, uh, since you are leaving so soon on Tuesday,

I presume there'd be no time for, uh, something I had in mind.

Uh...

That is, uh...

My father, he is a doctor, you know.

He's very short, oddly enough, but intelligent.

And--And my mother is quite gay.

I think you would enjoy knowing both of them.

But of course, that would be impossible

because you'll be busy packing and doing one thing or another.

Uh, I had meant to ask you down before, but it slipped my mind.

Still, I thought it might be nice for you to take away with you

something of the Paris countryside.

And since we were speaking of the country the last time I saw you,

I thought perhaps you might like to come with me to spend the weekend there.

It's not far, but, uh...

Still, it's impossible, I see, because as I said before,

you'll be busy packing and preparing for your journey.

Yes, the idea's preposterous on the face of it.

The idea's not preposterous at all.

I should like to come, very much.

You would?

Yes. Thank you.

Well, then...

Uh...

Well, then.

I hate that girl.

Eugene.

I still hate that girl. What do you do in Poland, anyway?

Spend all your time at this stupid game?

You mustn't mind my husband. He never shouts at anyone

unless he likes them. That's what I thought.

He's been shouting at me all my life.

Well, what are you looking so gloomy about, Pierre?

It's your shot. Yes, excuse me.

I hear you're going to Poland on Tuesday. Yes, monsieur.

Excellent country, Poland. Thank you.

Of course, he's never been there.

Don't have to be there to know it's an excellent country.

Well, what are you waiting for? Hit it, hit it.

Well, I daresay it's the best thing you can do.

You can go on with your studies there.

Though, of course, not to the degree you could here.

But you'll do well, whatever it is.

Thank you, madame.

I'm not paying you compliments.

I'm only telling you what I see in your face.

It's all there in people's faces. Look at my husband.

A good man, and a good doctor.

Look at Pierre. A poet, but a poet with brains.

A poet in a laboratory.

Look at me. Fat and foolish, but quite a good old soul.

It's true. Why should I mind?

Look at Monsieur and Madame Michaud there.

And young Master Michaud.

Well, let that pass.

But then, look at yours.

Stubborn, determined, obstinate.

And of course, intelligent.

And then there's something else

that I can't quite give a name to.

Fiery, is it? No, that's wrong.

Flame-like. That's a little nearer. Flame-like, then.

Something like a flame.

Won? Sure, I won.

But what satisfaction do you suppose I get out of it?

You were not paying attention.

There's no credit in beating anyone who doesn't pay attention.

Why, I tried to, Father. Then you're just plain stupid.

Leave him alone.

No, sir. That boy's got to learn to concentrate.

He'll never get anywhere if he doesn't concentrate.

Did you ever hear of a fundamental law of physics

known, oddly enough, as Curie's Law?

Sheer luck. I don't know how Pierre ever stumbled onto it.

Do be quiet, Eugene.

Croquet always makes me thirsty.

Want a drink? Thank you, Father.

Yes, sir. Croquet always makes me thirsty.

Yes, sir. It stirs up the thirst in a man.

Nothing like a good drink of lemonade after a fast game of croquet.

Don't you think so, Pierre?

There.

I think you'll be comfortable here.

Oh, I'm sure I will be.

This was Jacques' room when he was home.

Pierre's brother, you know.

Oh, there he is.

Where? Oh, no, no, that's Pierre.

Oh, no, really?

The other two are the doctor and me, of course.

Crazy-looking group.

I think it's charming.

Well, I hope you rest well.

Thank you.

And thank you for the lovely day. I've been very happy.

You're very welcome, my dear.

If you should care to postpone your return to Poland,

we'd love to have you stay here with us for a time.

It is kind of you. I'd like very much to stay,

but I've already written to my father and he's expecting me.

It's no use, Mother, to talk to Mademoiselle Sklodowska

about staying on in Paris.

It seems that she is determined to return to Poland,

and apparently, as far as she is concerned, science is to be forgotten.

I, I did try to explain to you why I must return to Poland.

I thought you understood.

I do understand, and I'm sorry.

Well... Well, good night, my dear.

Good night, Madame Curie.

Good night, mademoiselle.

Pierre, you shouldn't have spoken to her like that.

She's a very obstinate girl, Mother.

Well, after all, Poland is her home.

What's that?

Just saying to Mother that she's a very obstinate girl.

Stubborn. Exactly. That's what I mean.

Stubborn as they come. Saw that the first minute I clapped eyes on her.

Won't listen to reason.

Closes up her mind like a clam.

Well, let's go to bed.

Good night, Mother. Good night, son.

Good night, Father. Good night, Pierre.

She's so intelligent about other things.

Good night. Good night.

- Blind as a bat. - Who?

Your son.

Mademoiselle Sklodowska?

Mademoiselle?

Mademoiselle Sklodowska?

What is it? What's happened? Is anything wrong?

Dr. Curie!

I find it impossible for you to leave Paris.

But, what... No, please. I must talk to you.

I find myself in a very peculiar position.

During these past two weeks, when you've not been coming to the laboratory,

I've found everything very confusing.

It's impossible to do my work.

In short, I find it impossible to go on without you.

But now, suddenly, something has become very clear to me.

Uh, I am helpful to you in the laboratory, am I not?

Am I not? Didn't you say that? Yes, of course.

A few times, I've been able to give you suggestions

which you have found valuable. But of course.

Well, then. Now,

whereas I'm inclined to be nervous and impatient,

you are quite the opposite. You have a clear mind,

you are tenacious, you will never give up. It's an excellent combination.

I might compare it with the chemical formula NaCl, sodium chloride.

It's a stable, necessary compound.

So, if we marry on this basis, our marriage would always be the same,

the temperature would be the same,

the composition would be the same.

There would be no distractions, no fluctuations.

None of the uncertainties and emotions of love.

But... Uh, uh, uh...

I know how you feel about love. About men, I mean.

And I respect that feeling. It's also my own conviction.

For the scientist, there is no time for love.

I have always believed science and marriage to be incompatible,

but it's stupid to believe in generalizations.

In our case, it would be a wonderful collaboration.

A wonderful collaboration. Don't you feel that?

I feel that.

And as for your father, from what you have said,

I am sure he would applaud such a collaboration.

He might. And as for Poland,

what little good you could do there, you could make up here tenfold

on your own ground, science.

What do you think I should do?

It would be a very fine thing, I believe,

to pass our lives together with our common scientific dream,

to work together constantly in our search,

and any discovery that we should make, no matter how small,

would deepen the friendship we already have for each other

and increase the respect we mutually feel.

I can imagine no respect or friendship

greater than I have for you now.

I can imagine no future so full of promise

as the one you offer.

Then I suggest that you stay on in Paris with me.

I believe you are right.

I should like to remain in Paris very much.

Thank you.

We are engaged.

Engaged? Engaged?

I'm sorry.

Oh, Pierre, I'm so happy.

So very happy.

And I, too, my boy. Very happy. Thank you, Mother.

Thank you, Father. Oh, Pierre.

Good night, now, Mother. I'm so glad.

Good night. Good night, Father.

Good night, my boy. Good night.

Good night. Good night.

Good night.

Quiet, please. Quiet, please. Please, quiet.

Gentlemen, quiet, please. Now, look right here, please,

and hold absolutely still until I count up to ten.

Still.

One, and two

and three, and four,

and five, and six,

and seven,

and eight, and nine

and ten.

May I wish you happiness, Madame Curie?

Oh, David, thank you.

You're the first one who's called me that.

Goodbye, Madame Curie, and bon voyage. Thank you, mademoiselle.

Goodbye, my dear Marie.

Oh, Father, dear, goodbye.

Oh, congratulations.

Congratulations, Doctor Curie. Thank you, David.

Bye-bye, monsieur. Bye.

I'm so sorry to push past you.

- Excuse me. - Goodbye.

Now, where can I put this chicken?

Mother, we don't need any more food. We're not going into the jungle.

Good gracious, what's this?

Pierre, what do you want with scientific books on your honeymoon?

We want to read them, Mother. Well, this is the last straw.

Mother, we want those books. The chicken'll do you far more good,

I assure you.

Bye. Scientific books on a honeymoon.

Did you ever hear such nonsense?

Goodbye, my boy, goodbye.

Goodbye. Ready, Marie?

Well, here they go. Here they go.

Come on.

You're very lovely, Marie.

Thank you, Pierre.

The music is lovely, isn't it?

Yes. Thank you.

Pierre? Yes?

Will you hate to get back?

In a way, although I have a lot of work I must do.

What shall I work on, Pierre?

What subject shall I choose for my doctor's degree?

Isn't there anything that particularly interests you?

Oh, yes. Yes, a number of things.

But...

What is it? Why did you stop?

Oh, nothing. It's just an idea that went through my mind.

Well, what was it?

Well, do you remember the day that Professor Becquerel showed us that rock?

The pitchblende and the plate he'd exposed to it.

Yes. You know, Pierre,

I can't get that out of my mind.

Really? Why?

I know it's true that the rays are given off by something in the pitchblende,

but I can't get over the feeling that there's more to it than that,

that there's something else,

something beyond Becquerel's explanation.

I don't quite understand.

Well, what are these rays that are given off,

and why are they being given off?

It's an accepted principle in science that nothing can go on forever

without running down, isn't it? Yes.

I mean, a clock will run down if it isn't wound.

A fire would burn out if it isn't replenished.

Life will die if it isn't fed.

And yet in these rocks, which have been in the middle of the earth

for millions of years, never seeing the sun,

rays are constantly being given off, all by themselves.

What is this energy?

Where does it come from?

I suppose I'm being very foolish.

Some of the greatest achievements of science

have come through that same type of foolishness.

When an explanation is given of something,

and everyone in the world believes it,

there may be one person somewhere who can't quite accept it,

who instinctively says,

"I'm not sure that this is sufficient explanation.

"There may be something beyond this."

It's that kind of foolishness, Marie.

Well, I'm not that person, that's sure.

How do you know? Perhaps you are.

Perhaps Doctor Becquerel has only set the gate ajar.

There may be a long, unexplored road ahead.

I wouldn't even know how to start, Pierre.

I wouldn't know what to do.

I'm very glad we're married to each other, Pierre.

Darling.

Hello, Marie.

My class kept me today with the most stupid questions.

I thought I'd never get away.

And just tonight, when we're having guests...

I had a terrible problem.

I hope I got the things you wanted me to get.

I lost the slip I made the notes on, and I couldn't remember

whether it was turnips or carrots, so I got both.

Mother likes carrots and Father likes turnips,

and here's some flowers for the cook.

Thank you, Pierre.

What's the matter, Marie?

Oh, Pierre, I'm so discouraged.

It looks as if this method of mine is all wrong.

I wonder if I'm trying something that's beyond me.

What is it exactly that's wrong?

I don't know.

My measurements. They don't mean anything.

I know I must be making mistakes somewhere,

but I don't know where it is.

I've checked them and I've rechecked them 200 times.

Maybe the electrometer is not working right.

That's what I'm afraid of.

I wish you'd examine it for me, Pierre.

I'll go over it tomorrow. Let's forget it tonight.

Let's not talk, not even think, about the laboratory.

Promise?

I promise.

Well, Pierre, what is it?

Marie, about those measurements,

do you think anything could've happened to change the capacity

of the electrometer?

Weren't we supposed to forget about the laboratory tonight?

I forgot, I'm sorry. No more, no more. I'm terribly sorry.

Here they are. Where's my coat?

Here we are. Ah, hello, Pierre.

Mother. Dear, dear.

I smell turnips.

We've got carrots for you, Mother. Oh, how sweet of you.

Oh, I brought you some of my new plum jelly.

Oh, thank you, Mother.

She made it, but I brought it. Ah, thank you, Father.

Let me have your things. Your coat, Father.

Yeah. You're not treating her right, Pierre. She looks peaked.

Oh, don't be silly.

Why, you look lovely, dear.

Just the same, she's too thin.

And I say, a woman without a child is a parasite.

She feeds on life, but isn't willing to give life in return.

What has been her excuse to have life? Why was she ever born?

She's a bloodsucker. Don't call names, Eugene.

Are you listening to me?

Of course, a woman without a child is a bloodsucker.

He didn't mean you, my dear. Oh, yes, she's just the one I did mean.

But I am going to have a child.

When? Soon, I hope.

Oh, my dear. Marie...

Yes, dear?

Tsk, tsk, look who's gonna say something at last.

Are you sure the insulation was dry?

Yes, Pierre.

He's getting quite chatty lately, isn't he?

Shh. Don't bother them.

They're thinking of something. I don't believe it.

Did you check the ground connection?

Why, no. I thought you gave it to me in good order.

Well, sometimes it works loose, and you don't notice it.

Pierre, that could be possible, couldn't it?

Yes. Yes, of course.

The thing we must do is check that line completely from one end to the other.

In that case, my measurements may be correct.

Yes.

Then all these months of work wouldn't be wrong, after all.

That's right.

Pierre, that's it. That must be it.

That must be it. Yes, that must be it.

All right, all right. Go ahead and check it.

Father, it's just that... Well, Marie's had so many setbacks

with her work. That's all right.

Don't stop to explain, go ahead. Do please forgive us.

It's just that I've been waiting so many months.

It's all right, my dear.

I hope you won't mind if I stay long enough to finish my coffee.

Please do. We'll try and get back before you go.

Thank you, my boy. Thank you.

You know, sometimes I think that son of yours is not quite all there.

It was awfully nice having dinner with you.

Nice having dinner with you.

You know, I never come to this house...

Drink your coffee, Eugene.

It happens every time.

Well?

It's all right.

There's nothing wrong with it. I was wrong.

I was sure we'd found it.

Well...

Now I don't know. I'm sorry.

You tested all of the elements. You're sure of that, Marie?

Yes, I'm positive, Pierre.

And you found that only two of them, uranium and thorium, gave off rays.

That's right. Then you measured the uranium and thorium

in the pitchblende ore?

And that's when I ran into trouble.

The pitchblende had more radioactivity than I could explain

by the amount of uranium and thorium it had in it.

Would you like to show me how you make your measurements, Marie?

You wouldn't mind? Of course not.

All right.

Here's what I've done so many times that I've lost count.

Here is crude pitchblende.

Now, we know that the rays come from the uranium and the thorium

that are in this pitchblende.

Those two elements give off the rays. Correct.

I put the pitchblende in this mortar...

Has the mortar always been cleaned?

Always. And grind it up.

Here's the ground pitchblende, still with uranium and thorium in it.

I always fill the dish level full.

This is the way I've done it every time.

Then I place it in the electrometer.

And I close the case so there's no draft.

Good.

Then I charge the electrometer.

Now we'll find out how much energy the rays in the pitchblende have,

is that right? Right. Start.

Ready? Read.

Eight. Eight.

Same reading I've always had.

This pitchblende, with the uranium and the thorium still in it,

comes to eight.

Now, here is pure uranium

abstracted from the same amount of pitchblende.

Put this in exactly the same place, close the case,

charge the electrometer.

Now we'll find out how much energy the rays in the uranium have.

Right.

Ready? Read.

Two. Same as always.

I've done nothing wrong so far.

Not that I can see.

We know then that the pitchblende

with the uranium and the thorium in it

comes to eight, and that the uranium alone reads two.

Now we test the thorium. PIERRE: From the same amount of pitchblende?

Of course. Put that in exactly the same place,

close the case, charge the electrometer.

Now we find out how much energy the rays in the thorium have.

Right.

Ready? Read.

Two.

I don't understand. There must be a mistake.

When the uranium and thorium are in the pitchblende,

the reading is eight,

but individually, they only total four.

Have you checked all the other elements in the pitchblende?

I've checked every element there is. You know the results.

Every element in existence.

Uranium and thorium are the only elements that give off rays.

Why therefore do they give off twice as much when they're in the pitchblende,

as they do when they're tested separately?

Where are those four missing points?

That's what I don't understand.

I don't understand.

You made a chemical analysis of what is contained in pitchblende, didn't you?

Of course. Could I see it?

Yes.

Uranium oxide 75%, thorium oxide 13%,

lead sulphide 3%, silicon dioxide 2%,

calcium oxide 3%, barium oxide 2%,

iron oxide 1%,

magnesium oxide 0.99%,

other extraneous matter .001%.

Pierre? Yes?

Our universe is composed of definitely known substances, isn't it?

Elements that are fixed forever.

Inert, unchanging.

We know that, don't we?

All of our science is based on that.

All of our science is based on that. Go on.

In the beginning, man used to think that there were only four elements.

Earth, air, fire and water.

They thought that everything in their universe could be made out of those.

Yes, go on. But they were wrong, weren't they?

They were wrong.

Now we know that there are 78 elements.

Those elements over there on the shelves.

And we believe that there are some elements still unknown.

But we assume that these missing elements

will have the same character as those we know already.

That's right.

Pierre,

what if there is a kind of matter in the world we never even dreamed of?

What would that mean?

Marie, that would mean that

our whole conception of the nature of matter would have to be changed.

It's cold in here.

Tell me what you are thinking.

I don't quite dare.

Go on and say it, no matter how crazy it sounds.

What if we did not make a mistake in our measurements?

What if the conception of science is wrong?

What if there exists a matter that is not inert, but alive?

Dynamic?

Do we dare think that our four missing points,

this strange power,

is in that .001%?

Pierre, we have discovered a new element.

An active element.

The residue of the pitchblende.

What was left over after I extracted the uranium and the thorium.

It must be in there. Where is it?

In the filter paper.

Close the curtains.

Ready?

Marie, if your four missing points are here,

our notion of the universe will be changed.

Ready? Read.

Four.

Oh, Pierre.

Marie,

this new concept...

If we can prove the existence of this new element,

it may enable us to look into the secret of life itself

deeper than ever before in the history of the world.

Madame Curie,

you must realize that the board

has given your application every consideration.

However, the university has not an extensive budget,

for the creation of new laboratories

and for the new equipment you ask for.

You state that you and Dr. Curie

have detected the presence of a new element, an active element.

But unfortunately,

you have given us no convincing proof of its existence.

We have demonstrated its existence experimentally.

We have carried on our research intensively,

except for five weeks in the autumn.

In September, my daughter was born,

and a week later, my husband had the misfortune to lose his mother.

But the rest of the time we have devoted entirely to research.

And yet, in these eight or nine months,

you have come no closer to any proof

as to the existence of, uh... What is the name of it?

My wife has named it radium.

Oh, yes. Radium.

I should like to ask Dr. Curie a question.

Yes, Professor Roget.

This work will require quite a little time, will it not?

Yes, of course.

But you're already teaching at the school of physics and chemistry,

and Madame Curie is teaching at the normal school at Sevres.

It would be a formidable undertaking under the best of circumstances.

Under these conditions, hardly seems promising.

And Madame Curie, in spite of her acknowledged abilities, is,

if you will permit me to say so, young, inexperienced

and a woman.

Gentleman, if you please,

this remark seems to me entirely irrelevant.

It is perfectly true that Madame Curie is young,

that she has not had the experience that most of us have had,

and as you say, she is a woman.

But let me impress upon you, gentlemen,

that she is a most unusual woman,

I might say, well, a most unusual woman.

You cannot classify her with that term.

I have had the opportunity of observing Madame Curie very closely,

and I can assure you, gentlemen,

that she is a remarkable scientist,

as scrupulous as she is brilliant, and furthermore... Huh?

Uh...

Of course, gentlemen, you understand that I am looking upon Madame Curie

with complete coldness and complete detachment,

as I would in judging any other colleague.

We understand that you are convinced

as to the reliability of Madame Curie's investigations.

Entirely. I have even put aside my own research

to devote my entire time to collaborating with her

in the isolation of this new element.

Dr. Curie, much as we would like to help you and Madame Curie,

our budget does not provide for purposes of this kind.

However, the suggestion was made by Professor Roget,

in which we have unanimously concurred,

to offer you the use of the shed

across the courtyard from the school of physics.

We are aware that this shed

is not the most suitable place for your investigation...

Gentlemen!

Am I to understand that you are offering us the old shed

across from the physics building?

The one that was used as a dissecting room by medical students?

If this abominable shack is available,

it's only because no one can be found who is willing to work in it.

The roof leaks, it has no floor but the wet ground,

it cannot be heated.

In summer it's as stifling as a hothouse and in winter it freezes.

And do you imagine that I would permit my wife

to work under these appalling conditions?

If you do, gentlemen, believe... Huh?

With my husband's permission,

we shall be very glad to accept the shed.

We shall be very grateful to have the shed.

This was the shed across the courtyard from the school of physics.

This was to be the laboratory of Marie and Pierre Curie.

The place was even worse than they had expected.

There was no equipment.

They were at the mercy of the worst extremes of the weather.

How could they do anything worthwhile under such conditions?

If they had known at the start how long they were to work here,

and what difficulties awaited them, would they have dared to begin?

Well, yes, they probably would.

They were that kind of people.

At first, it was sheer physical labor,

beyond the strength of either of them.

During those winter days they carried on between them

the work of an entire chemical plant.

The raw material was pitchblende

from the mines of Bohemia, tons of it,

from which they planned to extract all the known elements

until only a few ounces remained.

From these few ounces, radium, their precious element,

was eventually to be isolated.

In the beginning, in spite of the bitter cold,

the work had to be done out of doors

because of the fire and the fumes.

The first step was to melt the crude ore

in a large oblong tank till it was boiling like lava.

Then acids were poured in.

This was to dissolve out the salts.

When this was done,

the next stage was to melt down the residue in separate cauldrons,

another backbreaking job,

for the fires must not go out, night or day,

and either Pierre or Marie had to be on hand all the time.

Dogged determination kept them going through month after month

of such arduous, dangerous work. But even so,

it began at last to tell on both Pierre and Marie.

This was something they had to fight continually,

the gas fumes.

Eventually, months ran into years.

The kind of work changed,

but Pierre still had to build or assemble their equipment,

and with any materials that lay at hand.

What was left of the original pitchblende

had now to be filtered and refiltered to remove other elements.

And this work,

though not quite so physically strenuous, was hard enough,

especially during the hot summer days.

And so the work went on,

until presently everything had been removed

from the tons of ore, except two final elements.

One was barium, and the other,

which they had begun to think of in their hearts as their own element,

was the precious, elusive radium.

Pierre and Marie thought that the end of their task must surely be in sight.

All that was now left was to separate these two last survivors,

barium and radium.

This was the problem,

to separate barium and radium somehow or other.

No separation.

No separation.

No separation.

"September 12th, 1899.

"Reduction of pitchblende nearly finished. Only barium and radium remain.

"The next separation will give radium."

"November 8th, 1899. First experiment, no separation."

"November 10th, 1899. Second experiment, no separation."

"July 16th, 1900. Four hundred and fifty-eighth experiment,

"radium still refuses to be separated from barium."

All right, then, radium won't be separated from barium.

We've done all we can, and more.

More than most people would've done,

thanks to your tenacity, but it's useless.

We'll never find a way of separating them.

Barium and radium cannot be separated.

How much longer do you think we can stand this insufferable heat?

Stifling in summer and freezing in winter.

How much longer do you think you can drive yourself like this?

And how much longer do you think I can stand by

and watch you destroy yourself?

The world has done without radium up to now.

What does it matter if it isn't isolated for another 100 years?

I can't give it up.

If it takes 100 years,

it would be a pity.

But I'm going to see how far I can go in my lifetime.

I have never seen burns quite like these before.

They are very strange.

I can't ever remember seeing anything quite like them.

They obviously don't come from any normal substance.

Madame Curie, how long have you been making your experiments

with this unknown element?

For the past three... Three and a half years.

And have these burns given you much pain?

No.

They've been irritating at times,

but I never paid much attention to them until lately.

I see.

It is obvious that you are dealing

with some remarkably powerful force.

As to what these burns are exactly, there is no means of telling.

I don't wish to alarm you, Madame Curie,

but it is very possible that these burns might become serious,

might, in fact, develop malignantly

if you continue to expose them excessively to your unknown element.

It is not impossible,

but they might develop into a cancerous nature.

It is my advice, madame,

that you abandon your experiments.

Cancer? No, Pierre.

He only said the burns might develop malignantly.

Might develop into cancer? No.

He said they might possibly develop into a cancerous nature,

but only if excessively exposed to our radium.

So, if we're careful, there's nothing to be frightened about.

But the very word frightens me.

You saw how it took my own mother.

We'll have to give up our experiments.

If we are dealing with as powerful a force as this,

there's no telling what...

I won't allow it. I won't let you take such risks.

I won't permit you. Pierre, please.

No, Marie. Listen to me, please.

There's something I must tell you.

And then, you shall decide as you wish.

Very well, Marie.

Since I left the doctor's, I've been thinking.

This element of ours obviously has a terrific power.

Power enough to affect healthy tissue like mine.

Power enough to destroy tissue.

Pierre, if it has this power,

why hasn't it also the power to destroy unhealthy tissue?

Do you realize what that might mean? It could heal.

By destroying unhealthy tissue,

it could heal all manner of diseases.

Like cancer, even?

Yes, Pierre, it might even do that.

We don't know what things it might do for people.

But, Marie... Pierre, can't you see

how, how unimportant little things like this are,

compared with what it might mean?

It might prevent great sicknesses, even deaths.

Pierre.

And so they went on with their work,

using every possible precaution.

Marie's fingers healed.

And though they did not find a way to separate radium from barium

in a single process,

they did discover a method of removing barium

little by little in infinitesimal amounts,

working on the theory

that once the whole of the barium was removed,

nothing could be left but radium.

Here, we see the sort of thing they had to do.

This is called crystallization.

When the liquid evaporates, crystals are left.

This was the thing they had to do over and over again.

It proved to be the most exacting of all the stages of their long task,

for it continued for two years,

and required thousands of separate operations.

By now the residue from all the various processes they had worked at

lay in hundreds of these small evaporating bowls.

Small, because larger quantities would not evaporate so quickly.

Crystallizing and re-crystallizing,

each operation, they hoped, bringing them closer and closer

to the heart of the great mystery.

At last they arrived at the final crystallization,

the one that contained the concentrated result of all the others.

The last survivor out of those hundreds of evaporating bowls.

I think I feel like crying.

Ah, Professor Perot!

Professor Perot. Madame Curie.

But I'm afraid I've come at a rather crucial moment.

No, no. We have finished.

We've nothing to do now but wait. I'm delighted to see you.

There's nobody we'd rather have with us at this moment than you.

Thank you. And I have brought with me a very illustrious visitor.

No more illustrious than these young folk will be.

The name of Curie will lead all the rest.

You're taller, my boy, considerably, than I imagined.

And you, madame, so young, so beautiful.

And so brilliant. Thank you.

I don't know which is the greater miracle,

you or radium.

Why don't you introduce me, Perot?

I think I know. Isn't it Lord Kelvin?

I absolutely refused to return to London without meeting you both.

As long as the greatest living scientist

believed in the existence of radium,

what the others thought didn't seem to matter.

Here are a few of the evaporating dishes.

How many crystallizations did you make?

Hundreds, I suppose?

Tell him, Pierre. Look here, sir.

Five thousand, six hundred and seventy-seven.

And the last crystallization is in there, I suppose?

Five thousand, six hundred and seventy-seven.

The last crystallization.

What an historic moment.

That little bowl represents eight tons of pitchblende,

and four years of work.

In a few hours, the water will be gone and only radium will remain.

Pure radium.

I'm sorely tempted to stay and see it,

but it's New Year's Eve and my family's expecting me in London.

And it's just as well.

This great moment should belong to the two of you.

Alone.

You begin the year, my friends, that will mark your fame.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

Goodbye. Goodbye, sir.

Come along, Perot, my train won't wait.

Goodbye, dear. Goodbye.

Goodbye.

I shall come back to Paris next week and see radium with my own eyes.

Meantime, send me a telegram tonight and describe it to me.

We have a poet over there

who wrote something apt for this occasion.

"Ring out the old, ring in the new,

"Bring out the false, bring in the true."

Goodbye. God bless you.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

What a wonderful man.

The really great men are always simple and good.

Yes.

- We're both very tired. - Yes.

Should we try and get some rest? Very well.

Sit here now and I'll cover you with this robe.

There.

Pull your chair closer, Pierre. I can't reach you.

There, that's better.

Let's try and doze off.

Pierre.

What time is it?

How long have we slept? Must be time.

It's 5:00.

Must be crystallized by now. Must be there.

Our radium must be there.

Come on.

Do you mind? You look first.

There's nothing there.

Not a trace of anything.

Not a grain.

Only this stain.

What's happened, Pierre?

Where's our radium? What have we done? Where is it?

What's happened? Where is it, Pierre?

I don't know.

What did we do that was wrong? What could we have done?

We've done nothing wrong. I can't stand it, Pierre.

Where is our radium?

We worked for years and years and years. It must be there. It must be there.

Four long years in this shed.

Four long years.

Is that you? Yes, Father.

Well, something's got to be done about that child of yours.

I think you ought to take it back.

I had to stand on my head to make her eat her supper.

And now she... Now she...

Now she won't go to bed until her mother tells her a story.

I'd like to know what's the matter with my stories.

They're the same stories.

I'll go up to her.

Then what happened, Mommy?

I'm sorry, Irene, darling.

Mother just can't tell you any more tonight.

Oh, Mommy, please.

What's the matter, Mommy?

But I want to know what happened, Mommy.

If you close your eyes tight, Daddy will tell you a story.

What's it about?

Well, uh, it's about...

It's about a strange

and wonderful treasure

that was locked up in an enchanted stone.

Isn't there a princess in it?

Yes, a princess.

A beautiful princess with golden hair.

Is there a prince, too?

No, not a prince,

but a man who lived all alone

until the princess found him.

Did they love each other?

Very much.

All right, Daddy. My eyes are closed.

Well, now...

One day, the princess told the man

about this wonderful treasure.

So they decided to go in search of it together.

Now, no one had ever seen this treasure, of course.

But the princess knew that it was there.

And she knew if they could get it out of the stone,

it might let people see wonderful things

that they had never been able to see before.

So they worked very hard

for a long, long time

to try and rescue the treasure from the stone

and they grew very tired.

And at last, they knew that they would never be able

to free the treasure from the enchantment of the stone.

But they weren't sad about it.

Because they knew

that no matter how many disappointments they had,

they would always go on together,

having the courage to take many disappointments

because they were together.

And they lived happily ever after.

She's asleep.

You know, we promised David that...

But I suppose you naturally wouldn't feel like...

Oh, I remember, the New Year's party.

But of course, you don't feel like going...

Pierre, we promised. Let's go.

I'd rather.

It might help.

Good. Good, then.

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year. Happy New Year.

Happy New Year, Marie.

Happy New Year, Pierre.

Marie.

Try to put it out of your mind, Marie, and go to sleep.

I can't. I can't accept it, Pierre.

Marie, sometimes there are things you just must accept.

If I only knew why we'd failed.

I think the failure itself I wouldn't mind so much,

if I only knew the reason for it.

Months and months and months ago,

we knew we'd found the right process to use.

Now, at the very end, why should it suddenly fail?

I don't know. I don't know.

Pierre, that stain on the saucer.

Yes?

We didn't even test it, did we?

No, we didn't.

What we were expecting to find was a definite amount of radium, wasn't it?

Something we could see and feel.

About as much as a pinch of salt, you said.

Yes.

Pierre, what if it's...

What if it's merely a question of amount?

What if there's so little radium in proportion

to the amount of material we've used, that even now we couldn't see it?

What if that stain, even if it were the merest,

merest breath...

Go on.

Pierre.

Could it...

Could it be that that stain is radium?

Pierre!

It's there!

The radium. It's there! It's there!

Pierre!

It's there!

It's there!

It's there! It's there!

Oh, Pierre.

Where are they? Are they in Paris? We'll go wherever they are.

I'm not going to tell you where they are.

But Dr. Curie, I am the representative of the London Times.

And there are representatives here

from the presses of all the great nations in the world.

Don't Dr. and Madame Curie realize they can't hide from the press?

The whole world is afire from their discovery.

The public wants to know about them.

We have heard that they have refused to take any money for their radium,

but they are giving it to the world.

The Nobel Prize to a woman.

These are important matters, Dr. Curie,

and the world must be told about them.

Yes, the public must know.

Did they give it away free?

Where are they now?

Gentlemen, all I know

is that Pierre and Marie are very tired.

They've been interviewed so much

that I can't see there's anything more to tell

that the public would be interested in.

They're sick. They've gone away on a holiday to rest.

Now, it's utterly impossible for any newspaperman in the world

to try to interview Dr. or Madame Curie at the present time.

I'm sorry.

Excuse me.

I'm from the Courrier, the newspaper in Grenoble.

Do you think I could see Madame Curie?

I'm afraid you can't see her. They're down here to rest.

It's their first holiday in five years.

You wouldn't want to disturb them.

Perhaps you could tell me something about her.

I can't go back without some sort of story.

Would you like to have something for your paper that very few people know yet?

Oh, I certainly would.

Well, put in your newspaper

that the university has granted Dr. and Madame Curie

a splendid new laboratory

with many rooms, the latest equipment, and many assistants.

It's to be presented to them in a formal ceremony next week.

Next week.

There, is that enough?

That's fine, that's wonderful.

I don't know how to thank you.

I can tell you I was scared of meeting Madame Curie,

but it was rather important to me.

You see, this is my first assignment,

and if I could have gotten the interview it would've helped a lot.

Well, monsieur, you can tell your newspaper

that you got your interview with Madame Curie.

Madame... Goodbye.

Are you...

Are you Madame Curie?

Yes, and this is my daughter, Irene.

It's a new tricycle, so she has to show it off.

- And now... - Mommy, Mommy.

Oh, here's my baby. This is Eve.

Has she been a good baby? Very good, madame.

Been a good baby, darling? Yes, oui, madame.

Did she drink her milk? Yes.

All right then... Oui, madame.

Well, keep her out in the air, Yvette. All right, off you go.

Now she'll make the grand tour of the garden.

And now you'll excuse me. Goodbye. Goodbye.

You know what I'm doing? Pierre. I thought you were asleep.

No. I'm walking through the new laboratory.

Don't imagine it too grand. It may not come up to your expectations.

And at the moment, I'm walking down a long, white hall.

Am I with you? Yes, you're with me.

Now I'm examining your work table.

I don't believe it's large enough.

How is yours? Oh, we haven't got there yet.

It will be exciting, won't it, when we walk through it for the first time?

Yes, it'll be wonderful to get back to work again.

We've lost so much time.

Oh, Pierre. The time we've spent down here hasn't been lost.

We got our strength back.

Yes, that's true. We were ill, both of us. More than we knew.

You know, when we first came here,

I used to have some fantastically morbid thoughts at times.

What do you mean?

Well, every day that passed seemed so completely lost,

and I had a feeling I didn't have much time to lose.

That my days were... Well, it...

That I mustn't waste them, that I had to drive ahead quickly

in order to have time to finish everything I wanted to finish.

It's odd how one's mind will...

Why, Marie.

What a horrible thought to have.

It's just because I was so ill.

How could such a thought have entered your mind?

Oh, darling, don't take it so seriously.

It frightens me.

Oh, I'm sorry I mentioned it. It was nothing.

It's just because I was so worn out.

Really, Marie, you know how tired I was.

Pierre, if one of us should ever go,

the other couldn't go on alone.

Couldn't be expected of us, could it?

Marie, I've upset you.

Could it, Pierre?

You are wrong, Marie.

Whatever happens, if one should go, the other must stay on.

One must work just the same.

But I, for one, have no intention of going anywhere

except to our wonderful new laboratory.

Only one more week, just think of it.

After all this waiting, only one more week.

Pierre? Yes, dear.

Come back here.

Huh?

Come back.

What is it? I want to tell you something.

Sit down.

Well, what is it?

It's so hard. I just can't find the words.

Pierre, are you proud of me?

Marie... Because I'm so proud of you.

I'm so proud that sometimes I think I'll burst.

You're a very great man, Pierre.

Not the way the world means, just you.

Your kindness, your gentleness and your wisdom.

I love you, Pierre, so deeply.

I never dreamed...

I'm so thankful, Pierre.

That's what I wanted to tell you.

That's what I hope you've always known.

"France has seen fit to bestow upon this famous scientific couple

"a truly great honor in reward for their services to science and to mankind."

Well, are you truly impressed?

"The president and faculty of the University of Paris

"will present Pierre and Madame Curie

"with a fully-equipped laboratory

"with which to carry on the many experiments

"they have opened the gateway to.

"At 6:30 on the 19th of April..."

That's today, you know.

"...there will be a formal presentation of the laboratory

"at which the world-famous couple will appear."

Not bad, eh? Not bad.

Good morning. Good morning. Good morning, Father.

Good morning, children. Good morning, Pierre.

What's the matter with this place today?

After all, it's no different from any other day, is it?

This house is in a turmoil. Everything is upside-down, topsy-turvy.

Nothing in its place. And where's your mother? I haven't seen her for hours.

I don't know how I'm going to remember anything. And, oh...

Where's my coffee? I'm late.

Oh, thank you, Lucille.

I don't know where your mother's gone.

A house without a woman... I--I--I don't understand.

Marie?

Mother's in there.

Uh...

What's she doing in there?

Mother's in there. Mother's in there.

Marie?

I wouldn't go in there, Pierre, if I were you.

She's having the last fitting on a new dress

she's going to wear tonight for the presentation.

It's supposed to be a surprise.

Oh, good, good. That's a very sound idea.

Yeah, and remember, I didn't tell you.

No, no, no.

Pardon me, is Dr. Pierre here?

That's him.

Oh. Madame Curie would like to see you.

You like it, Pierre? It's for this evening, for the ceremony.

You look very beautiful, Marie.

You really like it?

I do.

Very much.

What color is that?

It's a very deep red.

You ought to have some kind of, uh, a--a little ornament, hadn't you?

Oh, nonsense.

Yes, yes, you should. Something bright.

I've seen them on women and they look nice.

Now you're making me self-conscious.

No, I was just thinking, what a pity, evening dress becomes you so.

But there you are. We just haven't had the time, have we?

Oh, look at that. Our beautiful day ruined.

I was going to spend the day in the park with the children.

Well, I must be off. I have a hundred things to do today.

I promised to go to the institute,

I have to look at the proofs of my paper at the publisher's,

and endless things.

I want to clean everything up and start fresh from the laboratory in the morning.

You mustn't be late. You must allow yourself time to dress.

Madame, madame, the pins.

Oh.

Perhaps, one day, I'll get a new dress suit.

Do you know I've had mine since I got my doctor's degree?

Looks bad on me, doesn't it?

No, Pierre, no. You look very handsome in anything.

Thank you, Marie.

Bye. Goodbye, darling.

Perot is calling for us at 6:00.

I'll be here.

Don't forget your rubbers. No.

Or your umbrella. Oh, oh, oh.

Goodbye. Goodbye, Pierre.

Pierre...

Monsieur. Madame.

Is there something I can show you, monsieur?

Uh, I would like to buy a pair of earrings for a lady.

We're going to a party tonight. Yes, monsieur.

Did you have anything special in mind?

Well, I have seen women wearing earrings that I thought were very pretty.

Of course, I would like to get something to match the lady's gown.

And may I ask the color of the gown, monsieur?

It's dark red.

It's rather a special gown.

Uh, not low, of course, but...

What would you think of these, monsieur?

They're amethysts. They're very lovely.

Yes, aren't they? And, uh, what are these?

Those are garnets. Really?

They're both very lovely, aren't they? I hardly know...

It would depend on the shape of the lady's face.

Is it oval or round?

I would say that her face was oval.

Yes, yes, oval.

And is she blond or...

Oh, blond, definitely.

Not too blond. I mean, she can't... Well...

Just blond,

and her hair is sort of gold, you know.

Gold? Yes.

And her eyes are gray,

very calm and gray.

And her coloring is very, very lovely.

Sort of smooth skin and nice, delicate coloring.

And, uh... Well...

I don't know whether it would be of any help to you,

but I believe the lady is quite beautiful.

Look out!

It's lovely. You look very beautiful, my dear.

Thank you.

It's rather unusual to be praised for the way I look.

I'm sure you could have had that praise in a great measure if you had wished it.

Thank you, Father.

I don't understand Pierre being late, today of all days.

Well, you know Pierre.

I brought in some wine. Oh.

I thought we might all have a drink to that new laboratory before you go.

Oh, that was thoughtful of you, Father.

That must be Professor Perot, and Pierre not here.

I'll let him in.

Pierre?

Madame Curie,

it is my painful duty to inform you

that your husband has been the victim of a street accident.

He was instantly killed.

He can have suffered no pain.

Is she any better?

Just the same. I can't get her to even speak to me.

I'm frightened.

Is she in there? Yes.

Forgive me if I intrude.

I do so as Pierre's old friend,

as your old friend and teacher.

Please try to attend to what I say. Try to hear my words.

Think what Pierre would wish you to do.

How he would want you to live now.

It is my belief that he would wish you to continue

his work and yours.

My friend,

I know how much the laboratory meant to Pierre.

I know how much it would hurt him

if he knew it wasn't to be yours.

It was his dream that someday

you and he would stand there together.

I know it is hard for you to think of going on by yourself

when you have done everything together so many years.

But one must go on working just the same.

You must find somewhere within yourself

the strength to carry on Pierre's work

and your own.

Hmm?

Ten years ago, you told me so often

you were impressed by something I said

when you were a student in my class.

I spoke of Newton and Galileo,

and I said that probably none of you would ever reach so high

to catch a star on your fingertips.

I was wrong.

I have truly seen you reach

into the high place of knowledge

and catch a star on your fingertips.

Marie,

there are more stars.

Yes, she was famous now.

This frail, stubborn, eager woman

had carried on her great work for a quarter of a century.

Madame Curie.

Even now, after 25 years of intensive research,

we feel there is a great deal still to be done.

We have made many discoveries.

Pierre Curie, in his suggestions we have found in his notes,

and in thoughts he expressed to me, has helped to guide us to them.

But no one of us can do much,

yet each of us, perhaps,

can catch some gleam of knowledge,

which, modest and insufficient of itself,

may add to man's dream of truth.

It is by these small candles in our darkness

that we see before us, little by little,

the dim outlines of that great plan

that shapes the universe.

And I am among those who think that, for this reason,

science has great beauty,

and with its great spiritual strength

will, in time, cleanse this world of its evils,

its ignorance, its poverty,

diseases, wars and heartaches.

Look for the clear light of truth,

look for unknown, new roads,

even when man's sight is keener far than now,

divine wonder will never fail him.

Every age has its own dreams.

Leave, then, the dreams of yesterday.

You, take the torch of knowledge

and build the palace of the future.