Brother Sun, Sister Moon (1972) - full transcript

This is a dramatization of events in the life of St. Francis of Assisi from before his conversion experience through his audience with the pope, including his friendship with St. Clare.

Francois!

Francesco!

Francois?

Francois. Francois.

He's ill!

What's happened to

you? Speak to me.

He's come back from the war

because he's ill.

He's not a coward! He...

- My dear son.

- Come on!

Come, come.

Francesco, please!

Come on!

We've been riding

all night, too.

- All night?

- Yeah, on a girl,

not on a horse.

And tomorrow,

we'll be riding to battle.

We must be mad.

Is it true

if we win the battle,

we get all the girls we want?

Of course!

That's what wars are made for.

Kill the enemy

and get the ladies!

It's getting late.

Let's go home and prepare.

Wars are serious business.

Such profundity, Bernardo.

Why?

Why?

Bernardo.

What a pity.

It's over.

Yes. It's a pity...

but I hope we'll live to see

another dawn like this.

The last night of our youth.

Do you realize that?

We tried so desperately

to make it never end.

We should've stopped the sun

from rising.

Come on, Francesco!

Wait!

Leave me alone.

Please.

Brothers!

Brothers!

Lepers.

Yes. Lepers.

No!

I don't want to feed them!

Get them off!

No, no, no, no, no...

No, no, no, no, no!

Oh... you're not dressed yet?

What have you been doing

up until now, eh?

Pica. Pica!

Will you please stop

all this sissified nonsense?

The boy's going off to war.

Besides, I don't understand

a damned word.

Why do you two always want

to leave me out of everything?

Don't speak French

when I'm around.

How many times...

If you wanted a wife

who speaks like you,

why didn't you marry

some thick-headed

butcher's daughter?

Bravo, Francois, bravo.

Forgive me, Father.

Forgive me, Father.

Hey, wait, we must talk.

What shall we do with

all the money we'll make

out of this war?

Have you thought of that?

Ah... I see.

A true son of his father,

eh, Pica?

We are going to be late

for mass, Monsignor.

Ah, they'll wait.

Listen, Francesco...

out of the way, out of the way.

Francesco, w-when you're

in Perugia,

don't forget Ugoni's storerooms

behind the marketplace,

near the main tower.

He's as rich as the pope.

There's everything there.

Yes, yes, leave it to me.

Ooh, and Francesco.

What else?

Remember the triptych I told you

about for the cathedral?

It'll save us a fortune

in indulgences.

Yes.

Yes, war is beautiful.

This is my death mask.

Go forth, sons of Assisi.

God is with you!

Francesco!

Francesco!

Francesco!

Flowers in the

meadow softly sway

And all the little birds

sing merry May Day

Rabbits in the orchard

sport and play

And all the little creatures

smile and are gay

My little boy,

sing out your joy

I am near, my dear

My darling, do not fear

Love is all around you

Comforting with gentle lullaby

to make your heart sing.

What's he doing up there?

Oh, that's Bernardone's son.

Francesco!

Get down.

Francesco!

Francesco!

Francesco.

Francesco, what is it?

Francesco, my sweet, Francesco,

what's happening to you, eh?

You can tell me.

We've always understood

each other.

We...

We've always

been close, you and...

Let me help you, my darling.

Well, sit down, sit down.

Take a drink.

Yes, business is booming.

Life's back to normal at last.

Yeah, talking about business,

I have some fine stuff

to show you

that you won't find

anywhere but here.

Well, not anymore, that is.

Look at this tapestry.

It comes from Provence.

That's beautiful, isn't it?

Feel the texture

of this material.

Now, I'd like you to compare

this with one from Venice.

Ah! This one here.

Look at your hands.

Look at your hands!

Forgive me.

If I find one finger mark

on any of my silks,

I'll beat you

till you're black and blue,

you dirty little pig!

Ah!

These servants are

just like animals.

How's your son? Better now?

Oh, yes, thank God.

He's cost me a fortune

in masses to our blessed Mary,

but the worst is over now.

Now, there we are.

Oh, he's begun to get up,

and one of these Sundays,

you'll see him with us at mass.

Yes, please, please.

Take it into the light.

Do you remember me?

I'm Clare.

People say you're mad.

Do you know that?

When you went off to war,

they said you were fine

and intelligent.

But now you're mad, because...

because you sing like the birds,

and you chase after butterflies,

and...

and you-you look at flowers.

I think you were mad before,

not now.

Am I disturbing you?

I'll go...

You see?

He talks with her.

Thanks be to God.

That's obviously what

was wrong with him.

The boy needed a woman, eh?

Oh.

You look at things

so clumsily, Monsignor.

His heart is waking.

Well, you can call

it what you like,

but if you ask me,

that lad's after a woman.

That's why he's been

acting strangely.

What a lovely creature Clare is.

Hmm. Not much

of a catch, though.

Her father won't even

give enough dowry

to pay for a wedding.

Still, if that's what

Francesco wants,

we'll find enough money for

both of them, hey, Pica?

And you know what?

Yes.

I'm going to put him

to work again.

But...

No buts. You've mollycoddled him

long enough.

- But, Monsignor...

- Shh, shh, shh.

Besides, Francesco's always

been very good at business.

He likes it.

He does.

He takes after me.

Always has done.

Come, come.

You shall see.

I followed your advice,

Francesco,

to the very letter.

I bought and bought and...

and bought.

And now, we prosper.

Oh, I may curse the war

for having given you this,

uh, this fever,

but-but for business,

it was a blessing.

Come, come.

You shall see.

What you're going to see now

will send the blood

coursing through your veins.

Better than all those

potions and medicines

the women give you.

Eh?

Go, go.

Look at that, eh, Francesco?

Look.

You see this? See?

And to think people

speak badly of war.

Come, come.

I'll show you.

You know how it started,

eh, Francesco?

With the war supplies.

And then, after the war,

the soldiers came

to sell their loot.

And then the wights who'd been

looted by the soldiers

came selling whatever

they had left

in order to rebuild,

practically giving

away things for nothing.

I'll show you, I'll show you.

Look at these.

Look.

Francesco, see these, huh?

Family heirlooms, hmm?

Titled people.

On their knees, they were.

Cost me less than nothing.

And this is not all.

It's just the beginning.

And there's so much more

than that.

Now we have enough money

to manufacture and sell

with nearly 200 workers...

dyers, weavers.

Well, see for yourself.

It belongs to you, too,

Francesco.

Don't forget that.

God bless the master

of this house

And a lu-la-lu-la-lo

And a lu-la-lu-la-lay

Now milady, lady of

He be handsome, she be fair

And a lu-la-lu-la-lay

And a lu-la-lu-la-lay

Bring them buttons

and bells and bows...

A penny a rhyme will do me fine

And a lu-la-lu-la-lo

And a lu-la-lu-la-lay

Tuppence a rhyme,

I told you so...

God bless the master

of this house

And a lu-la-lu-la-lo

And a lu-la-lu-la-lay...

Yes. Yes.

He invited them, if you please,

out for a stroll,

just like that.

He simply led them

into the sunshine,

and they sat there

all afternoon.

Nobody did a stroke of work.

Oh.

And that-that... that simpleton,

that-that idiot boy...

he just... he just looked on.

He doesn't get it from me.

There's never been

a history of insanity

in my side of the family.

I've had enough of

your high and mighty ways.

You're not in noble

Provence now, madam,

and you'll not play the

great lady in my house!

You've ruined that boy!

You've pampered him

and spoiled him

with your Frenchified

airs and graces.

He's nothing more

than a cringing idiot.

Something's got to be done,

for God's sake,

but not by you!

You are a stupid, thick-headed,

vulgar animal,

that's what you are.

Don't you understand

what Francesco needs?

He's desperate.

Oh, Jesus, when I think

of my own youth,

I feel like flaying him alive.

That's typical of you.

Treat him like...

like one... like one of

your clerks who comes to you

whenever you stamp.

But, but, but Francesco's

not like that, Monsignor.

- No?

- No, no.

And what's more,

all the fathers and

mothers of Assisi

envy us such a son.

So... so sensitive,

so intelligent.

Ah.

This is the, uh,

envy of Assisi, huh?

Now you've gone far enough!

No, Monsignor.

No son of mine,

do you understand, however mad,

is gonna behave like this.

Have you no respect for me,

huh?!

You will obey me in everything!

And if you do not,

I will crush you

- within an inch of your life!

- No!

Is that clear?

Is that understood?

And... And starting

tomorrow morning,

you'll come with us to mass,

even if I have to drag

you there like a dog!

Come on, sit up.

No!

No!

No...

No.

It's... It's mine!

This one.

All of it!

And this.

Out of the way!

Where is he?

Where is he?!

It will never make you happy!

Throw it all away!

Burn it, my brothers,

all of it.

You...

But he doesn't realize

what he's doing, Monsignor.

Be patient.

Father...

Father, I want

to share my joy with you.

Our treasures are

in Heaven, Father,

not here on Earth.

Don't be a slave to these.

Throw it all away.

Do as I do.

It's so simple.

Be free.

Father... no...

No!

Om Stop it!

Stop in

You lunatic!

No. No, my brothers.

Don't touch that.

Throw it into the gutter.

Throw it all away!

It will only make you miserable.

Look at my poor father.

Quiet, you idiot.

Call the guards.

See how he struggles.

I want to see him hang

in the public square!

It's Pietro di Bernardone.

His son's gone mad.

What is all this commotion?

Di Bernardone's son,

he's gone berserk.

Has he only found that out now?

Oh, anyway, you'd

better alert the guards.

He's out of his mind.

What's the matter

with you, Bernardone?

Have you gone mad as well?

I want justice,

and I want it here, now,

in front of all Assisi.

Well, it would be helpful

to know the charge.

What has the justice

of men to do with me?

God is my only judge.

Well, unfortunately, He isn't

around to help us out.

Why not go to Bishop Guido, hmm?

Do you think I'm going

to interrupt my meal

because of some sordid

family squabble?

What heresy.

Your Grace...

Oh, tell them I'm out.

Say I'm praying or something.

But the whole town

is down there.

They insist that

the church intervene.

It's becoming

an outrageous scandal.

I really believe...

Guards!

I've only just got over Lent,

and here you all are

imposing another on me.

But, Your Grace...

Have it kept hot.

God's teeth!

Can a man not be left alone

to dine in peace

in his own home?

The bishop's coming.

Pietro di Bernardone,

this will not do.

How dare you disturb us

when we are in the middle

of saying our office.

What's the matter with you, man?

Have you lost your senses?

It's not my fault, Your Grace.

It's him...

that lunatic there.

Yes...

it's me.

My soul is in your hands.

What?

Are you trying to cause trouble?

Is that what

you're trying to do?

Is this some damned plot

to rob the church

of its authority?

That's nothing to what

he's done to me, Your Grace.

I mean, God only knows,

I've always given him the best.

I, I, I brought him up.

I, I... I clothed him.

I...

I mean, you ask anyone.

They'll tell you.

He's never wanted for anything

since the day he was born.

But today,

he threw all my belongings

out of the window!

And he even opened

my strongbox!

Oh!

Thrown to a mob of cutthroats

like himself

down in the street.

Years of hard work

and self-sacrifice

just... just tossed away.

Then what is the answer

to these accusations?

Surely you are sufficiently

intelligent

to understand

that Holy Mother Church

must punish those who subvert

the established order.

A man such as you is a...

is a menace to society.

He's either criminal or...

Or someone seeking the light.

Someone in darkness.

I was in darkness.

But Brother Sun

illuminated my soul.

And now, I can see so clearly.

Just as you did the day

you chose the sacred vestments

you are wearing now.

Are you seeking holy orders?

Me?

No. No.

I'm not worthy.

Then what do you want?

I want to be... to be happy.

I want to live like

the birds in the sky.

I want to experience

the freedom and the purity

that they experience.

The rest is of no use to me.

No use.

Believe me.

If the purpose of life

is this loveless toil

we fill our days with,

then it's not for me.

There must be something better.

There has to be.

Man is...

is a spirit.

He has a soul.

And that, that is what

I want to recapture...

my soul.

I want to live.

I want to live in the fields.

Stride over hills.

Climb trees, swim rivers.

I want to feel the firm grasp

of the earth beneath my feet

without shoes,

without possessions.

Without those shadows

we call our servants.

I want to be a beggar.

Yes.

Yes, a beggar.

Christ was a beggar,

and his holy apostles

were beggars.

I want to be as,

as free as they are.

But, Your Grace,

even beggars show respect

for their fathers.

I'm not your son anymore.

What?

What is born

of the flesh is flesh.

What is born

of the Spirit is spirit.

I now...

am born again.

Father, I give you back

everything that belongs to you:

Your clothes...

your possessions.

Your name, too.

There are no more fathers.

There are no more sons.

And everyone who has left

houses, or brothers,

or sisters,

or fathers, or mothers,

or children,

or fields,

for the sake

of our heavenly Father

will receive a hundred times

more in the life to come.

Cover him.

Cover him up.

Hey, come and see!

Look at the crusader.

Bernardo di Quintavalle?

Welcome.

Welcome home.

As I am presenting

the keys of the city

to the emperor,

it would hardly be

very bright of me

to present them

from the rear, would it?

Besides, this is not

a religious ceremony.

My dear governor,

Otto of Brunswick

is going to Rome

to be crowned emperor

by His Holiness.

How can you possibly say

this is not

a religious ceremony?

God moves in mysterious

ways, my dear secretary,

and He has arranged,

on this occasion,

that I move forward.

Ah! This is...

pure blasphemy!

What? Do you suggest you are

in direct communication

with the Word of God?!

Sylvestro.

Come here, Sylvestro.

Paolo.

Something really

marvelous has happened.

Guess what.

What?

Bernardo's back.

Yes! He rode in

through the gates

half an hour ago.

He looks... fantastic.

Yes.

And I will make

the speech of welcome.

Let's not discuss it further.

Everyone will have

his assigned place.

But, but you are here.

Mm-hmm.

Streets ahead of me.

He couldn't have arrived

at a more appropriate time.

Let's meet tonight

and celebrate.

Giocondo, you arrange it.

- Oh, yes.

- Yes.

Hey! Bernardo!

How do you like your chicken?

Leg? Or breast?

The only one of us

that's stayed the same.

It's all show.

He's trying to go

back to his youth.

Why else would he

choose this place

to celebrate your return

from the crusade?

Crusades are nothing

to sing about, I assure you.

Oh, come on, Bernardo,

you're, you're famous.

You're a war hero.

I say, you must have slaughtered

thousands of Muslims.

What?

How many, at a rough guess,

would you say that you killed?

Too many.

Oh.

Where's Francesco?

Oh, uh...

He doesn't live in Assisi

anymore, Bernardo.

I gathered that, but...

What's happening?

Where is Francesco?

Oh, you're not still talking

about him, are you?

We told you, he's mad.

What do you mean, he's mad?

Don't take any notice

of him, Bernardo.

He's pissed, as usual.

But Francesco isn't mad,

is he, Paolo?

No.

He's not mad.

He's... He's changed.

He is mad.

A raving bloody lunatic.

Only a lunatic will believe

that God Himself

had come down from heaven

to talk to him.

Right?

Listen, God has spoken

to lots of people sometimes.

How interesting.

And I suppose you think

that God personally decided

that San Damiano should be

the first church

in His rebuilding program.

San Damiano...? Rebuil...?

Is that where he's living?

Well, y-yes, I, I suppose so.

Is he all right?

Surely... Surely to God

one of you went along

to-to see him,

speak to him.

You must have done something.

Look, he...

He is our oldest...

and dearest friend.

He might need our help,

for God's sake.

Bernardo, listen to me,

not Giocondo, he's drunk.

Francesco's not mad.

Maybe he's very sane indeed.

But you are a hero

of the crusades.

You can't afford

to have your name

associated with his.

- What?!

- None of us can.

Francesco's been a great

friend to us all, but...

quite simply, we have

nothing in common anymore.

Francesco?

Are you all right?

I'm very well, Bernardo.

And you?

Listen to me for just a minute.

I want to help you.

Words.

Words, Bernardo.

There was a time

when I believed in words.

During all those months

in prison,

we talked so much about you.

We were sure you were dead.

When they freed us,

I had decided to go

to the crusades.

And it was in Jerusalem

that I heard you were alive.

But I was surprised

by what they said,

that you had abandoned the life

that you once loved so much.

That you were looking for

a new purpose, a new meaning.

You were right, of course.

I tried that, too.

Only for me it failed.

Yet it's too easy

to blame the crusades

for this... loss,

this emptiness,

this dissatisfaction I feel.

The horror of war,

the destruction of our ideals

is part of it, I know,

but there's something else.

I feel stifled by my past,

by my upbringing.

None of it means anything

to me anymore.

And you, Francesco,

you know better

than anyone else

that I cannot live

without an ideal,

without something

to believe in.

Perhaps I'm wrong,

perhaps one should be

more cynical and forget ideals.

I don't know.

That's why I thought

I had to come and talk to you.

What's the matter?

That would make

a worthy cornerstone...

strong...

and true.

Where did you get these,

some quarry near here?

Yes, it's not far.

I can take you there,

if you like.

Thank you, Bernardo.

Oh, come and let yourselves

be built as living stones

unto a spiritual temple.

Stop laughing.

Don't be such a fool!

Oh!

Oh, I'll tell you,

Bernardo's a ruddy genius.

He knew that all you lot wanted

was to shot him out

on some state occasion

like a circus act.

Look, if that's

all you can say,

- you might just as well go home.

- Aah!

We've got to get Bernardo back.

- Go on.

- Come on!

Bernardo, listen...

Paolo wants to talk with you.

You see, they want you to

present the keys of the city

to Emperor Otto himself.

It's a very great honor.

You're the only one

who can make peace

between the governor

and the bishop.

Bernardo,

are you listening to me?

Bernardo, please,

you must come back.

It's for the emperor himself.

No.

No, there's nothing

I want to say to an emperor

who slaughters the innocent,

steals from the poor.

No, Bernardo, there's a lot

one could say to an emperor.

There you see, look.

Even Francesco agrees with me.

What should I say

to an emperor, Francesco?

Well, what could you say?

Mm...

Well, you could tell him to

throw his scepter in the mud,

or to fling his jewels

into the river.

Then he could see the glow

of some new colors

amongst the glistening pebbles.

And you could say,

"Otto of Brunswick,

"let the birds nest

in your crown.

"Let the winds of heaven blow

through your empty palaces.

"What good is your life to you,

"if your riches bring you

no peace of mind...

and all your people starve?"

That's what should be said

to an emperor.

You mustn't listen to him,

I warn you!

If you're going

to say things like that,

then you'd better stay here!

You'll both be burned

at the stake as heretics!

Stop bleating.

And consider that maybe

Francesco and Bernardo here,

in the way they live, have more

in keeping with the gospels

than you and your lawyer friend

in the bishop's palace.

You were the one

who laughed loudest

and longest at Francesco.

Ah, shut up!

That's true, but I always laugh

when I don't understand.

Because you've got marbles

up there

instead of brains, that's why.

I'll tell you something, though.

I understand yours

and Paolo's dilemma.

Now get back to Paolo.

You! You pathetic little prick.

You just wait!

Go on, get out.

We'll settle our scores later,

Giocondo!

Ooh!

Get back to the convent.

You just wait and see!

Bye.

Giocondo!

Giocondo...!

Idiot.

I send you to get Bernardo,

you come back without him.

You and that other...

Where's Giocondo?

Where is Giocondo?

Bah.

Throw your scepter in the mud,

Otto of Brunswick!

Fling your jewels in the river

so, at last,

you see the pebbles!

Let the birds nest

in your crown!

What good is your

miserable life when you...

- ...steal from the poor,

- What's wrong with the man?

Slaughter the innocent,

and hoard vast sums of gold,

while your fellow countrymen

are starving to death!

Get him.

Oh!

He'll be punished!

What have I done?

I've done it.

I've said it, Francesco.

Francesco!

We are given to understand,

my learned friend,

that you have...

that you have joined the ranks

of the state legislature?

Then your understanding

is based

on a misunderstanding,

my friend.

I haven't joined anybody.

I'm on nobody's side.

I've simply offered my services

to the city

to help stamp out the contagion

of San Damiano.

Your Grace,

we are told that the cream

of the city's youth

has already been curdled

by contact with this eccentric

little community, hmm?

They are restoring

a consecrated ruin for love.

Is that a crime?

They have cast away

all their possessions.

They have cast away

all our possessions,

which is

a very different matter.

Yes, indeed,

a very different matter.

A state matter.

If you thought Francesco

might start an uprising,

you should have judged

him yourself

before passing him on to me,

who could not fault his desire

to live in poverty,

like Christ and the apostles.

For Sister Poverty,

we give thanks...

Don't be discouraged, people.

Come on, at least

we're not thirsty

and we're well washed.

We give thanks.

Forgive and you

shall be forgiven

and live in simplicity.

Get away!

Move off with you.

Away!

Get out, Pig!

Here, see if you like this!

Thank you, brother.

Brother?

You're no brother of mine.

Get away!

For Sister Poverty

We give thanks

For Brother Want

We give thanks

We give thanks.

Thank you, Lord,

for all Thy mercy

For the storm,

and winds that blow...

Come.

Thank you, Lord,

for all Thy blessings...

For Sister Grace

We give thanks

For Brother...

We give thanks

We give thanks.

"Blessed are the meek,

for they shall

inherit the Earth."

"How blessed are those

who show mercy,

"for mercy shall be

shown to them.

"How blessed

are the peacemakers;

God shall call them his sons."

Giocondo...

What's the matter?

God forgive me,

a miserable sinner.

God forgive me,

a miserable sinner.

God forgive me,

a miserable sinner.

He probably heard you

the first time.

Go away.

Leave me alone.

Tell me.

I can take all the rest...

the cold, the hunger...

but there are days and nights

when...

I'd gladly face

eternal damnation

for one moment of love.

I'll ruin everything you've

tried to do, Francesco.

I can't go on.

But... But you don't have to.

We're not a regiment of priests

for whom the sacred vow

of chastity

is a discipline.

We're...

We're just a band of men

who simply love God,

each according to

his own capacity.

But if Giocondo finds

the lack of a woman

distracts him from loving God,

then he should marry and breed

to his heart's content.

You didn't cut my hair before.

You knew I was weak.

You knew this would happen.

If everyone took

the vow of chastity,

the human race would end.

Be fruitful and multiply,

But with a wife, remember.

For Sister Chastity...

We give thanks

For Brother Love

We give thanks

We give thanks...

For Sister Poverty,

we give thanks

For Sister Want

We give thanks...

We give thanks.

Francesco.

Clare.

God be with you, Francesco.

Always.

And pray for me.

No! No!

But they have been

working with us today.

Let's share what

little we have.

That way, you fool, there

will be even less for us.

But they are poorer than we are.

Poor? What poor?

They are the sons of landowners,

sons of the rich.

Go and look for bread

in your own homes.

Why do you

have to come and steal

from us, the real poor?

We are all poor

in the eyes of our Lord.

Lord, make me

an instrument of your peace

Where there is hatred,

let me sow love

Where there is injury,

let me sow pardon

Where there is doubt,

let me sow faith

It is in giving that we receive

It is in pardoning

that we are pardoned

It is in dying that we are born

That we are born

to eternal life.

Francesco!

Clare!

You shouldn't have come,

but I knew you would... I knew.

I have to tell you,

and I don't care

if the whole world knows it.

From now on,

I want to live as you live.

Don't send me away

because I'm a woman

with little strength

or gentle manners.

I'm not seeking

to be understood anymore.

I want to understand.

I'm not asking to be loved.

I want to love.

Where there is sadness, please,

please, help me find joy.

Clare.

Lord...

make me an instrument

of your peace.

Good morning.

Give him to me.

Stay here.

Quiet.

If you want your dream to be

Take your time, go slowly

Do few things, but do them well

Heartfelt work grows purely

If you want to live life free

Take your time, go slowly

Do few things, but do them well

Heartfelt work grows purely

Day by day, stone by stone

Build your secret slowly

Day by day, you'll grow, too

You'll know heaven's glory

If you want your dream to be

Take your time, go slowly

Small beginnings, greater ends

Heartfelt work grows purely

If you want to live life free

Take your time, go slowly

Do few things, but do them well

Heartfelt joys are holy

If you want to live life free

Take your time, go slowly

Do few things, but do them well

Heartfelt joys are holy.

Good night, Your Grace.

Francesco!

Come!

The church!

Come on!

Quickly, get some water!

Has anybody called

for Francesco?

Look, he's coming.

Francesco, Francesco,

Francesco, look.

What happened?

The bishop's soldiers came.

The bishop's soldiers came.

They wanted to close

the church, and Deodato...

He wouldn't let them in.

No.

He started fighting and...

a-and called for help.

Oh, he screamed and screamed

and... kicked them,

and then they pushed him.

He struggled, but...

Why?

Why?

Who could have such...

such hatred for such a creature?

What did he do wrong?

I must know.

I must... understand.

Somebody has to help

me understand.

Somebody has to help me.

And there is someone...

if He would.

Water! Away!

Look. Who's that?

There. Who's that coming there?

Come on, let's go and see.

Francesco!

You mustn't go to Rome,

do you hear?

You must not go to Rome.

Why mustn't he go to Rome?

Never mind why,

Bernardo di Quintavalle.

Just bring him back to Assisi.

That's impossible, Paolo.

You know that.

Francesco.

Listen to me.

Not as a friend...

for I may no longer

call myself your friend.

But you must come back

to Assisi.

No.

I must go to Rome...

to find out what

I've done wrong.

What you've done wrong?!

Then you can save

yourself the journey,

because I can tell you,

quite categorically,

you've done everything wrong.

Everything!

From the moment you ran away

from the war, remember?

And abandoned us, your friends!

And acted like a lunatic

to cover up your cowardice!

And decided to be a king

amongst the poor.

Paolo, don't talk like that.

You're-you're just jealous.

And if I am, I've good reason.

He's had everything I've had

to work and scheme for...

riches, women, position,

popularity...

even God!

You just saunter out

of your house one fine morning

and pluck God out of the air,

as easily as catching

a butterfly.

It's all too simple.

If what you say is true,

then the Holy Father

will soon point out

the errors in my faith.

The Pope?

Wha...?

You...

So, you still think

you'll be able to see the Pope.

Just look at yourselves...

the pride of Assisi.

Filthy, starving,

reduced to the gutter.

And this is how you hope to find

an audience with His Holiness.

Well, good luck, my friends.

Paolo...

you could help me.

You know what to do.

Francesco... go home.

I have enough money to

see you all back safe.

Paolo...

help me to see the Pope.

Well, if I do succeed,

and it's very little likely,

it will be on my terms,

is that clear?

Yes, of course.

Make way, please.

Everybody, make way, please.

Everybody...

Amen.

Read it out...

exactly in the way

it is written here,

changing nothing.

Do you understand?

- Francesco?

- Hm? I'm sorry.

Read it out word for word.

A masterpiece of

evangelical strategy.

I almost believe it myself.

Now, remember,

what you must make

absolutely clear

is that you recognize

the supreme authority

of the Pope.

And then, when you've made your

submission to His Holiness,

you will withdraw.

I've arranged for horses,

for you, all of us,

to return to Assisi.

Once there, I promise you

I will do everything

in my power

to reconcile you with the city.

Paolo... why are you doing

all this?

Because...

in your simpleminded zeal,

you could all be burned

as heretics.

And besides,

I don't want a martyr

on my conscience.

They're hermits from Assisi.

They're here to make submission

to Your Holiness.

Their leader is, uh...

Francesco.

Just an ordinary blessing,

Your Holiness,

to gratify Bishop Guido.

You asked permission

to speak to us.

Well, speak.

Speak.

Why?

Why?

"Look at the birds of the air.

"They do not sow or reap

or store in barns...

"...yet our Heavenly

Father feeds them.

"Is there any man among you who,

by anxious thought,

"can add a minute to his life

or a foot to his height?"

Why the concern for your riches?

"Consider how the lilies grow

in the fields.

"They do not work nor spin...

"...yet even Solomon,

in all his splendor,

"was not attired

like one of these.

"How little faith you have.

"You ask, 'What are we to eat?

"'What are we to drink?

"'What are we to wear?'

"When all these things are

for the pagans to run after,

"not for you.

"Set your mind on God's kingdom,

"and his justice

before everything else,

and all the rest

will come to you as well."

How dare he lecture us

on the gospel.

"You have stored

your treasure here...

"here on earth... where there

is rust and moth to devour it,

"where thieves will break in

and steal it.

"But store your treasure

in heaven...

"where there is no rust,

"no moth,

"no thief to steal.

"For where your treasure is...

there will your heart be

also."

Out!

Blasphemy!

Out! Call the guards!

Blasphemy!

Out! Out!

How little faith you have!

"No man can serve two masters.

"He will hate the one

and love the other,

"or he will be devoted to one

and despise the other!

You cannot serve both God

and money!"

Francesco!

Paolo.

Forgive me.

You went to so much trouble.

You come, too.

No, not him.

He's not with us.

Well, tell him Paolo,

you're not with us.

Tell him.

I am with them.

Then go with them.

Quiet! Quiet! Move along.

Your Holiness,

I am most dreadfully sorry.

Please forgive this outrage.

We were misinformed.

We were given to understand

this was a humble group

of hermits.

He isn't well.

Shall we suspend the audience?

Do you wish to retire,

Your Holiness?

Your Holiness.

Where is he?

Who, Your Holiness?

Where is that man?

Below, Your Holiness.

Our guards have arrested him.

Call him back.

Bring him here...

immediately!

What do you want of us?

I have often watched the larks

in the fields round my home.

They are such humble,

modest creatures

who need only a sip of water

and a few berries

in order to live,

and soar into the heavens.

One day, I found myself thinking

that we, too, could be happy

if we were content with little,

like the larks.

If we could live as they live,

singing,

and thanking the Lord

who created us.

That is why we came to Rome...

to ask your advice.

Well, what advice

can I possibly give you,

my dear young brother?

God has given you

a most precious gift...

the grace to approach Him

through His beloved creatures.

What more can you want?

Simple people understand us,

but the others...

Perhaps we've made mistakes.

This is what we want to know.

Is it not possible, Holy Father,

to live according

to the teachings of our Lord?

Or have we sinned

through presumption?

If that be the case,

then we would like Your Holiness

to tell us of our errors.

My dearest son,

errors will be forgiven.

In our obsession

with original sin,

we too often

forget original innocence.

Don't let that happen to you.

You've brought me,

dear children,

great joy and a little sadness.

I, too, started my vocation-

oh, long ago...

in much the same way as you.

But, with time,

all that enthusiasm passed,

and the responsibilities

of church government

took hold of me, as you see.

And what will happen

to those who come after you?

Have you thought

enough about them?

But if it be true for us,

then how can it

not be true for them?

We are encrusted

with riches and power.

You,

in your poverty...

put us to shame.

Francesco...

Francesco...

go in the name

of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Preach the truth to all men.

May your disciples

increase a thousandfold,

and flourish...

like the palm tree.

Our Lord be with you,..

In your hands...

and in your feet.

Don't be alarmed.

His Holiness

knows what he's doing.

This is the man who

will speak to the poor,

and bring them back to us.