All language subtitles for Mario n

Pater et filius
et spiritus sanctus.

Amen.

Am I allowed to know
on what charge you're arresting me?

Treason against the state.

Try to remember:

Any confession I am said to have made
while in prison will be a lie,

or the result of human weakness.

We've got to collect
your valuables, you know.

Regulations.

Watch, wrist, one.

- Gunmetal.
- Gunmetal.

Cigarette tin.

Beads, rosary, one.

Ring.

I ook at it

one.

Cross.

Jeweled, one.

That's where the money goes, eh?

You've no need for larceny,
have you?

Petty larceny, that is.

And if you do Rob your own poor boxes,
who's to know?

- Do you really believe that?
- Come on.

Right hand.

- You've been in a fire?
- Of a kind.

Won't spoil your fingerprints,
you know.

Thank you.

Here, if you want it.

I'm sorry about that nonsense
we've had to put you through.

I imagine this is more awkward
for you than it is for me.

- Well, hardly that, I suppose.
- Oh, I don't know.

In spite of your political creed,
it's you who are the gentleman.

No titles nowadays, of course,
but yours was a noble line.

You are a prince of the church.

- And you to interrogate me.
- Times have changed.

You were a hero to me
in the resistance,

as you were to all of us.

Tell me, do you ever miss
those days?

At least one was on the same side
as all one's fellow countrymen.

I make no distinction
between my fellow men.

Their service demands everything,
and, I warn you, permits everything.

Is there any particular plot
or counterrevolution

you hope to unmask?

Not unless you know of one.

You believe us harmless
yet require us discredited.

- And the point of arresting me?
- A cigarette?

No, thank you.
If I may smoke my own?

While they last.

Come, now.
Drugged cigarettes already?

You see, you represent a religion

which provides an organization
outside the state.

In your pulpit you are more dangerous
than a politician.

With your war record
you're a national monument.

You are outside the party
and that monument must be.

Destroyed?

Defaced.

You see? I show you my hand
from the start.

Do you want to see mine?

I am difficult to trap
and impossible to persuade.

I am tenacious, wary and proud.

- Proud?
- Quite sinfully.

Of my record in dealings
with your predecessors, the gestapo.

I am tolerably inured
to physical pain.

Well, they never caught me.

Look, your masters
are in a hurry, I fancy.

People who are going to make
heaven on earth usually are.

So, hadn't we better
come to the point?

Steven, bring me
the completed confession, will you?

Already?

It'll give us some sort of agenda
to work from.

You wouldn't care to sign it right away
and save us trouble?

- You know, you might just as well.
- I'd love to read it first, if I may.

Steven, I shall want you
to stand by tonight.

Sit down,

your eminence.

Come on, now.

No dozing off.
You can't do that, you know.

Very strict, your interrogator.

No dozing off.

Walk up and down a bit,
I should.

No talking to anyone
but me and him.

Psychology, they call that.

It's very modern.

Still, they say he always gets
what he wants in the end,

in spite of his fancy ways
of going about it.

Does he indeed?

Being difficult, are you?

I hope so.

Not guilty.

"Not me.
I'm not like the others, officer.

"I'm not guilty."

- You neither, I suppose?
- That's right.

Yeah.

Whatever they're in for, they've always
got something on their conscience.

Political, that's your line.

Not a very interesting one.

But you've got something
on your conscience too.

Ah.

Confidence trickster.
That's your line.

- Why do you say that?
- You hide yourself up your sleeve.

Yes, that's your line.

And what are you guilty of?

Don't be silly.
I'm in the prison service.

- Not guilty?
- Of course not.

Come on, now.

Shall I switch on
the microphone, sir?

Are you going to want
all this early stuff recorded?

"All this early stuff he calls
my fascinating psychological approach.

It is fascinating, sir.

I'm learning all the time.

All that easy manner
and apparent friendliness.

Not just apparent.
You have to be friends.

Which I have been.

Which I am.

Hypnotic nonsense.

I only wish that physical exhaustion
wasn't so essential in the early stages.

All right, Steven, that's all.

Ah. Your eminence.

Come in.

- Have some coffee.
- No, thanks.

Some coffee, your eminence?

Oh, thanks.

My health.

Afraid I shall slip you a truth drug?

Surely it's a confession you're after,
not the truth.

Oh, I could drug you
into stumbling out some form of words

but the foreign correspondents
in the press gallery

wouldn't be at all impressed.

And we shan't be needing any drugs.

Older methods?

Racks and thumbscrews?

Old...

But not so long outdated.

Who do you think
you're dealing with?

Some mad, sadistic moron
in the gestapo

with power to play with flesh and blood
for his own lust?

I was a doctor
before ever I was a lawyer.

Your body is sacred to me.

No drugs, no torture?

What can you hope for?

Conversion.

It's your mind we want.

For the first time...

Since I've come into your prison...

I'm afraid.

We can't talk here.

- You didn't answer my letter.
- I told you, it's hopeless.

We can't go on
seeing each other like that.

I love you
but you can't do this to a man!

Why do we always quarrel?

He's certainly got results in the past
but his methods take too much time.

Yes, and the people
are getting restless.

The churches are full again.

They're falling back on their old ideas
outside the regime.

He's got to be discredited, and soon.

- We shall be late for the meeting.
- I did warn the ministry of justice.

God, they know
he's not guilty of anything.

- You know he isn't.
- Well, that's not for me to say.

My husband was right.
There's no freedom here even to think.

So he got out
and you heard the last of him.

You love me
or you wouldn't have come here.

I shouldn't have come.
I tried not to come.

'Surely it's a confession
you're after, not the truth.'

'Confession.'

he's got another eight-hour session
in half an hour, sir.

'Surely it's a confession you're after,
not the truth.'

you getting anything you can use
from these recordings?

Just a word here and there
at the moment, sir.

'Confession. The truth.'

well, that won't take us very far.
The general is asking for results.

It's bound to be a slow process, sir.

He's looking for a weak spot
in his defenses.

He'll find it.

If the church isn't deliberately
obstructing the state,

are you prepared to say
it supports it?

It renders to the state
the things that are the state's

and to god
the things that are god's.

You know you'll tire yourself out
with this eternal being on your guard.

- On my guard?
- Stop thinking of me as the inquisitor.

How do you wish me
to think of you?

As your doctor.

To me, you're on a couch
in my consulting room.

You're an enemy of society,

like the schizophrenic
or the paranoiac.

You're dangerous
because you mislead the poor,

the uneducated and the silly.

But only because
you're wrong-headed.

In time we'll get
to the root of the trouble

and you can be cured.

- You believe it?
- Yes.

I do believe it.

God give me cunning...

Against your skill.

God keep my watch.

Medical examination.

- Good morning.
- And no talking to the doctor.

The pulse, fairly regular.

A little flutter's nothing
to be alarmed about.

It's caused by the natural
human impulse of fear.

You often find it among cases
under threat of torture,

physical or mental,

and, of course, death.

Lungs quite all right.

Nothing to worry about there.

Continuous confinement is not
usually recommended, of course.

The heart's very sound.

Yes, very sound indeed.

I hope.

You're not supposed
to talk to the doctor.

But I know him. He used to work
in the free orthopedic clinic.

You were doing
fine work there, doctor.

I know.

Things happen to us.

Doctor?

Tell me, have you examined
the interrogator?

Because if I'm in
for a long session,

so is he.

Ah. Come in.

- Good morning, general.
- Good morning.

- Well?
- Well

I was in the middle of an interrogation
when you sent for me.

- At nine in the morning?
- It started at 2am.

Resistance is at its lowest
about that time.

Resistance would appear
to be still pretty high.

You've had him in your hands
for three months without any result.

Oh, I'm not criticizing your methods.

They've always been successful
in the past.

But I must have some estimate
as to how long they'll take.

But I've told you, general,
it's impossible to say.

We're dealing with a particularly
brilliant and subtle mind.

His spirit was proved indestructible
by the gestapo in the war.

Your progress reports
tell me nothing.

I'm prepared to report
that I am wasting hours, days, weeks,

finding out
what we can't use against him.

But I'm probing his mind
for the one weakness that we can use.

To find that out, I've got to become
his doctor, his confessor.

I've had to get to know him
better than I know myself.

One casual phrase, one tiny slip
may give us a clue.

Very well.

But remember this.

We took a very grave risk
in arresting him.

There's unrest
throughout the country over it.

The foreign press keeps asking
why there's no trial.

We cannot afford to fail
with the cardinal.

I shan't fail, general.

You've had a hard life.

A hard life!

The aristocrat to the priest.

Before dawn in the fish market
at the age of nine.

But warm in school by nine o'clock

with the fat fruits of my scholarship.

Did your clothes smell of fish?

Heavens, that it should rile me still.

COD guts and mackerel blood, look.

"There are squashed fish eyes
sticking to his boots."

Dear little boys.

I used to go to the fish market
with just my overalls on over my skin.

Even when the snow
was up to our ankles.

And I bought every brand of soap
I saw advertised.

I took the skin off my hands
with disinfectant.

And then, "sir, must I sit next to him?
He stinks of fish."

Ah, happy school days.

Blast you!

- You flaming little pest.
- The general.

School days!

After weeks wasted.

You've no fixed date for the trial.

- This is a difficult case.
- I can see that.

The time has come
for other methods.

General, that's the stuff
that martyrs are made of.

- I shan't give you much longer to try.
- Supposing you could break him,

would a confession from a broken body
do you much good in an open court?

We've got to have a confession,

if it has to be from a corpse.

What is the policy of the Vatican
towards our government?

Thank you.

Very refreshing.

What were we talking about?
Oh, yes.

I meant to ask you...

I see here that you never
took up a scholarship

you won to the university
at a fantastically early age.

Why was that?

I had a vocation to the priesthood.

And you found that out suddenly

between sitting for the scholarship
and winning it?

No, I had always known it.

I had tried to evade it.

Why?

That's an odd question
for a layman, surely.

I didn't think I was worthy.

So you won the scholarship

and then suddenly, overnight,

found you were worthy
of the priesthood after all?

No.

I found that, for me,
I had to be a priest.

That and the next step
and the next.

All my life, shirk nothing,
duck nothing.

Overcome everything.

You sound tired,

and afraid of yourself,

not of us.

Why?

Why?

Please, I'm asking you
for the last time.

No.

Your husband got out of the country
with no permit. He can't come back.

And you know
that you can't get out to him.

I know I can't

but that doesn't mean
I have to be unfaithful to him.

- You've not even heard from him.
- That doesn't mean he hasn't written.

Why do you see me at all?

It's always "no" in the end.

Because I'm an ordinary human being.

Look, can't you understand?

I like to go out sometimes
and talk and dance.

Please, we've always been friends.

You've got lots of girlfriends.

No, wait.

I'm sorry I said that.

Shut up in that infernal prison all day
watching what goes on

you get so that you say things.

Come on.

I et's dance.

Let's enjoy ourselves, please.

- You're making progress, you know?
- I'm sorry you should think so.

No, it's just that we're getting
to know one another better.

Tell me about your first curacy.

Saint Nicholas, wasn't it?

That was a working-class district
I used to know well.

Rowdy political parties
when I was a student.

Oh, very progressive
and Matey we felt

but I couldn't get the ring of conviction
in my voice on those platforms.

Nor I in that pulpit.

Ashamed of preaching to the hungry,
"thou shalt not steal"

but, well, presumably that was a text
that you practiced yourself.

Why do you say that?

What makes you say that?

- Well, does it matter?
- No.

When did you steal?

Before I became a priest

but not long before.

I was very young in that pulpit.

What did you steal? Soap?

Books.

Books for those scholarship exams.

Books and paper and pencils.

I used to look down
into those faces below the pulpit,

women mostly.

Women who weren't stealing the things
their men and their children needed.

- Yes, but you needed the books.
- Ambition.

Not need.

- Besides, I...
- Besides?

I always took the best.

The thick, shiny paper

and the pencils
out of the sixpenny tray.

Surely you confessed all that
off your conscience

before you became a priest.

Oh, yes.

Besides, I found there was no need
to look into their faces.

You could look between.

Do you never look
into their eyes?

Now?

Always.

One must learn
to do these things.

The mall past the capitol.
Secret meetings, slogans.

Propaganda being distributed.

This unrest will develop into a rising.

Send out a call to district headquarters
in the central command

to alert troops to reinforce the police
on patrol duties.

Orders to fire over their heads?

Orders to disperse them.

Full discretion.

You shouldn't be seen reading that.

Banned this morning.

Oh, there you are.

I was afraid
you weren't coming after all.

We're all on extra duties.
There's some trouble boiling up.

They've brought in more guards.

Well?

Well

I hate your being
in the prison service.

Makes it seem worse somehow.

Not just... unfaithful

but with the enemy.

That's treachery.

I can't get out. I've tried.

You don't.

Do things yourself, do you?

Things are done.

Like forcing the cardinal to confess
to treason so that they can have a trial?

I don't know how I can love you,
being even near such work.

It could be right.

You want to believe
that he stands for things that are fine,

that you can trust him.

But what can people
like you and me really know?

I do know that he's not a man
you can force to anything.

If they get him to confess...

- You can believe it's true.
- But you can't want it to be true.

If you're in the prison service,
you'd rather think the police were right

than that the prisoners were.

You're saying that to justify yourself
working for them.

Well, it won't justify you to me.
He is innocent.

It will only prove this isn't a country
anyone can live in.

If they can twist a man that far
and he confesses,

then I know I'd have to get out
and join my husband.

Please.

Don't talk about it.
We've got us to talk about.

The journalist on the paper
banned this morning.

General, this is lunacy.

You'll admit now
that there's a certain urgency?

The prisoner is not ready.
It'll destroy weeks of work.

I have my orders.
I have faith in them.

You're a brilliant man
but conceit is dangerous.

Conceit!

So is sentiment.

He's here, sir.

It has been decided to confront you
with some evidence of your guilt

before you are brought to trial
so you may see that your only course

is to throw yourself on the mercy
of the government by pleading guilty.

A street map
of the center of the capital.

Circles: Secret arsenals.

Crosses: Armed strongpoints,

such as the church
of Saint Nicholas there,

dominating
the central railway viaduct.

Surely a good revolutionary
would blow up a viaduct,

not build a strongpoint
to dominate it.

I must have lost my touch
since I worked for the resistance.

- This is your handwriting, isn't it?
- It does look like it.

But this word appears
to be spelt in the Italian way,

possibly from a letter of mine
to the Vatican,

and, uh... thick nibs, thin nibs,

almost as if someone had cut
odd words out of old papers of mine

and stuck them on the margin
of the map and photographed it.

A photograph of the cathedral crypt,

marked on the map as an arsenal,
if you remember,

and dated in the corner.

The place was searched
and photographed

the day you were arrested.

The day I was arrested?

The feast of Saint fontanelle,

the one day in the year
when the crypt is open to the public.

Next, Steven, please.

'What did you steal?"

'Money given
for the church to start sabotage

'and fomenting unrest
against the government.'

'do you not at least admit

'that the whole weight of your authority
must logically be directed

'against the government?'

'of course.'

you must admit, a gramophone record
cannot be tampered with.

I imagine not. You simply edit
the tape recording, don't you?

And then re-record on disk.

The sound levels weren't too good,
though, were they?

I've never seen a general,
four ministers and a judge

all look so silly
at the same time.

- Is that for the record?
- No.

How odd it is.

They're just shadows.

You're real

you're beginning to feel that.

I don't know.

I'm tired.

Oh, god.

- How could I forget?
- Go on forgetting, my friend.

This must end in tragedy.

They lack the leadership
that we had in the resistance.

Your world now...

Is here.

Sir, the general's on the telephone.

Oh, what now?

This is the final idiocy.
I'll stop this.

Oh, the fools!

Eminence.

I ook.

If thou, o lord, shall be extreme
to remark what is done amiss...

I never learned to pray for her.

Shouldn't you...

- Bless her?
- 1?

Bless?

She's still quite warm.

You had her killed.

You were the doctor
to whom my body was so sick!

Pride?

- Well?
- My body and hers are one.

I am admitting it to you here!

I ook how I kiss her hand!

She's alive.

Yes, she's only anaesthetized.

Anaesthetized?

Why?

I have the right to know.

I am her son. She's supposed
to be someone I love.

Supposed?

Someone I love.

What do you expect
to get from this?

The confession is ready
for your signature.

And if I refuse to sign?

She will be sent
to the... research hospital.

Is she ill?

She will be ill.

No signature, no confession.

I could have her left in your cell

until she comes round.

She wouldn't even try
to plead with me.

You don't know us,

my mother and I.

You have an unnatural monster
on your hands.

I do not love my mother.

I never have.

I thought all this would lose me
the foothold I'd gained with you.

I didn't think that it would be I
that would be disgusted.

If she must,

I was beginning to dislike my work.

I shan't dislike it now.

You're a hard man, eminence.

A hard man.

We'll leave you alone
with your thoughts for a while,

your eminence.

Consider and hear me, o lord, my god.
Lighten mine eyes, lest I sleep of...

Lest I sleep the sleep of death.

Lest mine enemy say,
"I have prevailed against him."

Rejoice not against me,
o, mine enemy.

When I fall I shall rise.

When I sit in darkness.

The lord shall be a light unto me.

- What's this?
- To sleep on.

Interrogator's moving in.

Thinks we're running an hotel.

Thank you, warder.

You see, I want to watch every phase
of his solitary confinement.

I suppose you'll be wanting
shaving water and things?

Yeah, that's right.

I don't want to lose touch
with his frame of mind.

I suppose the solitary confinement
can go on as long as we like

now the trouble outside
has calmed down.

It can go on
until he wants to talk.

We're up against a good man.

He's got to show us
where his weakness lies

before we can use it
to destroy him.

Meanwhile.

We must wait.

Shall I take over from him
for a bit, sir?

Not on your life.

He'll lose, in the end.

I've doctored those recordings
within an inch of their lives, sir.

We shan't need them.

Every living soul
in that sleeping city down there

could be broken if they had to be.

The subtler the mind,
the more sensitive the conscience,

the more surely
they must be broken.

That's the fascination.

And the pity of it.

Three sevens are 21,
four sevens are 28,

five sevens are 395,
six sevens are 42,

seven sevens are 49, nine...

Uh, sevens.

Six sevens are 42,
seven sevens are 49,

eight sevens are 56...

What day is it?

How long is it
since you brought me food?

You're fed
according to the regulations.

Twelve o'clock dinner,
eight o'clock supper.

Not for days.

Three days.

That's why they've boarded the window,
to frighten me so that I can't tell.

No, it's just you've been allowed
to sleep as much as you like.

It's muddled you up.

I can't get over
what you're doing to that floor.

You're making
a real show place of it.

I'll tell you what.

I'll get you a tin of Polish
and a proper cloth.

We had a fellow
in solitary for a long time.

He used to take a mop to bed
with him at night and stroke its hair.

He got so he ate it up in the end
and they had to put him away.

Have they given up?

Am I to be left here now to rot?

Here forever?

- Is that it?
- Now, why should it be?

You finished already?

I'm gonna make a clock somehow.

Next time I'll know
how long you've left me alone.

Something running,
something rolling,

something round.

- A clock.
- A cuckoo.

You need a cuckoo clock.

My granny had one.

I stuck its little door fast
so it couldn't get out.

You could hear it
whirling about inside.

Flying about. Brr, brr, brr.

I thought it was alive.

Kids!

Cuckoo!

Look a bit different after a couple
of months of solitary, don't they?

What time is it supposed
to be now?

You haven't been out of this room
five minutes.

What have you been up to?

Pick it up.

You worked up a pretty good appetite
in five minutes.

Well, I was hungry.
I hadn't eaten for three days.

- Five minutes, you said.
- You're tricking me, trying to fool Mel!

Now, no violence!

You're not the violent sort.

How are you doing this to me?

Why am I... going out of my mind?

Well, it's funny, you know.

The more store a man sets by his wits,
the sooner he loses them.

When a man starts
watching his mind at work

you can't leave him for five minutes
without he frightens himself to death.

Finished with it?

Oh, don't go.

What's the matter?

You should try and get some sleep.

I told you the switch is working
here now, didn't I?

They always complain
about the light at first

and when you tell them they can
switch it off, they don't want to.

You get so you don't like the dark,
don't you?

Night-night.

Not like the dark!

Ah.

My good fellow!

You really think
I'm afraid of the dark?

The dark.

Quiet.

Quiet.

Quiet!

Keep us, o lord, while we wake

and guard us while we sleep

that we may watch with Christ
and sleep in peace.

Get him to send for me again.

Get him to send for me.

No good to them
if out of my mind.

Tell him he's got
what he wanted.

The man
on the psychiatrist's couch

wants to talk.

Nol

what are you trying
to make me say?

You twist what I say!

You make me see myself
as warped and crooked.

You, with your fake friendship!

Feel friendship, will talk.

And something knows I mustn't.

Talking for 15 hours.

Last kick, poor brute.
I know the signs.

Sedative.

No.

- Nothing in this room.
- Now, look.

Eurgh.

The things I have to drink for you.

48 hours.

I'm onto him now.

I've got him.

I can hold him for 48 hours.

They must stage the trial
within that time.

- What, and get all that laid on?
- That's their business.

I've hooked him.

His weakness is humility.

And he, poor fool, thinks
he's proud.

He'll pour it all out now,
all his imagined vices.

I can play him, and land him.

They must be ready
when I give the word.

All right, sir.

It's a pity it's a sport
that has to be played with living men.

What are you fighting?

Why do you hate yourself?

I know you. I don't hate you.

- You must.
- I'm supposed to, but I can't.

You don't love
your fellow men, do you?

No.

Is that it?
Or is it something deeper?

You've no delight in your god,
have you, nor never had?

No.

Is that why you hate yourself?

Your heroism in the resistance,

was that just to convince yourself,
to prove yourself to yourself?

Why should you do that?

What must you keep proving?

The flesh

not weak.

What are you ashamed of?

Women?

A priest?

- Even so.
- Thank god, no.

Not in the corners of your mind?

Not alive, pulsing in the dark?

Not veiled, buried, drowned, waiting?

No.

You think all your life was a facade.

What are you hiding?
Why are you ashamed?

Unclean flesh.

Yes, yes.

My body...

Of her flesh and blood.

Your mother?

Behind the fish market?

Oh, she was married.

I was legitimate.

But I knew how it had always been.

Everyone knew.

In my little room at night,

listening to the new feet
blundering up the stairs.

The whispering
and the... smothered laughter

behind the stupid
flowered paper on the wall!

My body of her flesh.

Oh, I put a scholar's gown on it,

wrapped it in a cassock,

tried to cover it.

And then, success.

To justify the pride.

Something.

Always to prove...

What wasn't there.

Not there?

No heart.

There's no love in some of us.

Don't you think
I'd have found it if there were?

Your mother's sin,
your shame for her and for yourself,

was that all?

Only the start.

Why did I become a priest?

You think the decision was easy?

Look, the day I heard
I'd won the university scholarship

and had to choose
between that and the priesthood,

I tried to kill myself.

Why?

Why?

Because I knew
the university was second-best.

I wanted to serve
no less than god.

They should have let me die.

I became a priest...

Because I wanted to start again.

I wanted to feel free.

I wanted to feel clean.

So that was it.

I wanted to justify myself to myself.

To me,

not to god.

And then?

I succeeded.

I can serve men or god
or my country.

But I can't care.

You fake.

The hero of the resistance

who outwitted the gestapo
for his own vanity.

The martyr for the church whose
only resistance is for his own pride.

His eminence, the cardinal,

who could steal
the estimation of the world

to justify a miserable little tyke
of a backstreet drab

who smelled of fish!

- Forgiveness.
- Did you preach forgiveness

up there in your fine pulpit?

- Forgiveness for those who stole?
- Of course.

Didn't they have to give back
what they'd stolen?

How.

Can you give back...

Honor?

Deface the national monument.

Tell them

tell the world, as you've told me,

that your whole life was a fake.

But you couldn't do that.

There'd be nothing left.

Nothing.

Tell them you betrayed
them in the war.

That, they could understand.

- It isn't true.
- Does it matter?

Madness.

It's a mad world.

If you really want to start again,

as low as the gutter
you came from,

why not tell them that in the war
you betrayed them?

I betrayed them?

Oh, god.

Would you have the courage
to say it in open court?

I don't know.

It couldn't be done.

Don't mock me.

Of course, if you threw in
enough politics to leaven the loaf,

they'd eat it.

- I mustn't confess!
- You mustn't confess.

You mustn't weaken, you,

so certain of yourself
when you came here

with your wit
and your sacred hands

and your insufferable conceit.

That's it, isn't it?

Let them see me
in the weakness of the flesh...

And the meanness of the spirit!

That would be degradation.

That would be shame enough
to burn the past

and come through the fire free.

That's hysteria.

No.

No, can't... can't...

Forgive me a moment.

I can't hypnotize you into saying
anything you think is wrong.

Remember that.

Do you believe that this is
what you must do?

Only this way.

Not drugged nor hypnotized...

Nor hysterical.

Sane and whole.

And with the courage,
with the grace of god.

To make restitution in my own way.

I can't believe
he'll confess to anything.

He won't. You wait.

He would never have staged a trial
if he wasn't ready to confess.

I knew him in the war.

He may have let them think
they've got him

but they will find he can put
this bullring to his own use.

It's better than the pulpit.
You wait.

Has the prisoner read
the charges against him?

Yes, I have heard the charges,
and I confess.

Well?

He hasn't yet said
what he's confessing to.

First, we will take
your personal life as a priest.

You became a priest, did you not,
for your own glory?

Yes.

And all your service to the church
was to your own ambition?

Yes, my ambition.

How can you make people
understand that?

As a priest, did you misuse
money given to the church?

Yes, I confess to that.

The secrets of the confessional,
did you use those to extort blackmail?

Yes.

And did you sell
such information to the police?

Yes.

So all your life
as a priest was a fake?

Yes.

Now, to make us understand that,

tell us about your public life.

Tell us about your war record.

I worked for the resistance.

Oh, yes, you worked
for the resistance.

And in the end you betrayed us.

Tell the court, your eminence,

did you betray the resistance
to the gestapo?

The links with the allies,
the chain that led out of the country,

in the end I betrayed them all.

No one knew what kind of a man
you were, did they?

No one knew that you were reporting
to the gestapo, did they?

You were still able to go on

keeping in touch with the allies,
weren't you?

Yes.

Do you deny that since the war

you have still kept secretly in touch
with foreign governments?

No.

Have you received money from them
to foment sabotage and unrest?

Have you?

- Yes, I...
- Look at the people!

Your own people!

Before, during and since the war

have you deserved their faith?

Have you betrayed them?

I have betrayed them.

'It isn't true.

"It isn't true'

'madness'

'do you want to start again,

'as low as the gutter
you came from?

"Throw in enough politics,

they'll eat it.'

so, you have confessed

to every charge of personal corruption
and public treason brought against you.

I have confessed enough.

And that you aimed to set up
a government with yourself at its head.

The worst you can find to say.

Is it not enough?

Counsel for the defense?

After such a confession

the prisoner can only throw himself
upon the mercy of the court.

Not on the mercy of this court.

Upon the mercy of god.

Oh, god,

let me go mad.

Let me go mad.

How does he seem?

Interesting.

He was broken by a half-truth,
a distorted truth.

He was too humble.

He believed it when I told him
his whole world was built on pride.

A proud man would
have been more skeptical.

Have you seen the press, sir?
Congratulations.

Yes.

I've trained you well.

I suppose in time you will come
to drive a brilliant mind

to pray for madness.

- It had to be done, sir.
- Oh, yes, it had to be done.

You're just feeling
the reaction after the trial.

Mustn't let a little squeamishness
spoil your triumph.

Been good as gold
these last few days.

Hey, you get back
to your murderer in number eight.

Leave my cardinal alone.

Not that he'll be anybody's
cardinal after eight o'clock.

Yours goes before mine,
doesn't he?

Yes.

Psst

double damask,
patterned both sides.

- You like it?
- Very handsome.

That's an expert's opinion.

Like altar linen, eh?

When I was a choirboy

if you used so much as the corner
to wipe your nose on,

they'd murder you.

Appetite?

- I'll try and do it justice.
- That's the spirit.

Of course, there's a lot of waste
with these breakfasts

but we finish it up after.

My mate, he said,
"let's give him kippers.

"We've got to eat it,
we might as well have what we fancy."

I said, "no, he'll have what he fancies
for his last meal on earth.

"Kidneys, that'll be his taste."

- You're a good soul.
- Oh, I don't know. A job's a job.

You've got to go to bed at night
with your mind easy.

What time is the execution?

Oh, no orders yet.

How long as a rule after breakfast?

Oh, half an hour maybe.

But there's another to go
before you.

You swallow all right?

We had a young chap once,

he'd killed three sailors
with a handspike

in a fight on the docks.

He was a nice, quiet kid,
but he couldn't swallow.

Nervous stricture
the doctor said.

Hanging, you see?

I put that right.

I said, "lad, they've changed
your sentence.

"They've brought one of them
electric chairs from America."

He ate like a wolf after that.

Standing up, you know?

You don't want to waste
them good kidneys.

Shall I be allowed a priest
before I die?

Eh?

Must tell the lads that.

Oh, you're a good sport.

I hate a man who can't
take it with a grin.

Shall I be allowed a priest!

Oh, I'll miss you when you're gone.

You've never been any trouble.

Well, hardly any.

What's this?

- Look here. You can't...
- Your instructions.

He's got to have time for his breakfast.
The man got kidneys.

- That's civilization. It always has been.
- Read them, outside.

Well?

I find it hard
to forgive my enemies,

have you forgiven yourself?

Oh, no.

But I believe I shall be forgiven.

He who will judge us
is he who made us.

You've found peace of mind.

Perhaps you should thank me.

The doctor who diagnosed
the weakness?

Perhaps I should.

Shall I be allowed
a priest before I die?

There'll be no need.

I beg of you, let me see a priest.

You're not to die.

No.

I am to be hanged.

Your sentence has been commuted.

What are they afraid of?
Martyrdom?

No one can make the world
see me as a martyr now.

It has been commuted.

I had so eased my mind
with the thought of death,

I can't see beyond it.

You're free to go.

The gates will be opened.
You have only to walk out.

No, no, they wouldn't risk it.

- What I might say.
- What, that you were talked into it?

That you used my mother?

She was already
in the research hospital

when you were arrested.

You haven't kept
in very close touch, have you?

Is there news of her?
Is the disease fatal?

- They think not.
- Thank god.

Nothing you can say
can harm the government.

Dead, you might be a martyr.

In prison, you'd be an enigma.

But free, sane, walking the world...

Walking the world
like Cain, branded.

No. Suicide.

They hope I'll take my own life
so they can say

I committed
the last cowardice of all.

I shan't do that, you know.

- No, I didn't think you would.
- No.

I might live...

For 20, 30 years.

Yes, it's one thing
I never thought of.

It's more terrible than anything
I could have thought of.

I could pretend to call
to the warder for help as I fire.

Do you want to pray?

- You'd do it?
- Do you want to pray?

I must not ask you...

To do murder.

You're offering me...

Escape.

And I thought of you

as an animal
to be put out of its pain.

Do you want
to face the world outside?

No.

But I must.

So the laugh is on me.

You go out from under my hands
a stronger man than when you came.

Medical discharge certificate.

Discharge.

- It shook me, I don't mind telling you.
- Give it to me.

All right, doctor,
I'll examine him myself.

Outside.

Remember,
that's an ex-prisoner, that is.

Sir.

Do you realize what I did then?

I hid what I was doing
from the prison staff,

indulging in secret treachery.

What have you done to me?

- That, from you?
- Oh, I realized the dangers.

I had to get so close to you,
it was like two sides of the same man

talking to each other.

But to let sympathy
for the side that was you

take over even for a moment

from sheer sentiment,

to risk losing everything
I'd worked for and achieved,

it means you've defeated me.

You're no convert.

For you your cause
will always be right.

And what use to my cause is a man
who is too fastidious to trust?

No.

I shan't wait
to let them find that out.

Your certificate of physical
and mental health.

An appropriate use
for my last official signature.

It doesn't make sense.
You pulled it off. You'll get recognition.

- Thank you, but I still want to resign.
- Why?

All right.
Because I don't choose to wait

until you have to put people in my house
and on my staff to watch me.

Rustling through my papers,
tapping my telephone.

Should we?

Yes.

Listen.

Ten minutes ago
I offered to shoot him

to spare him the agony
of the heavier sentence: Release.

I see.

Yes, you're right.

How can either of us tell
what that capacity for pity

may lead me to do in the future.

Servants of the state
can't pick and choose.

Well, I can't half-serve a cause.

- The aristocrat?
- No.

The fanatic.

I shall have to take this higher up.

Do you mind waiting in there?

There's a reception committee
and a half waiting for you out there.

Hundreds of them,

standing there, dead still,

all looking this way, waiting.

Fair gives you the creeps.

Ready, sir?

I'll have them open up for you.

See if you can get rid
of the kidneys.

He thought I'd like them.

Try...

Not to judge the priesthood...

By the priest.

'Any confession I am said
to have made while in prison will be a lie

'or the result of human weakness'