The Cardinal (1963) - full transcript

Stephen Fermoyle has grown up in Boston at the turn of the twentieth century knowing that his destiny lies with the Catholic priesthood. Finally finishing his studies in Rome, he returns to America full of certitude and ambition to one day join the College of Cardinals. But his road to that office is a long one, paved with crises. In Boston, he must decide whether to save the life of his sister or her unborn child, conceived out of wedlock. In Austria, he confronts the question of whether to remain with the priesthood or abandon his oath so that he can be with the woman he loves. In Georgia, he contends with Rome's indifference in the face of racial bigotry. And in Austria, he finds himself personally involved in the church's dealings with the Third Reich.

- Good morning, Excellency.
- Good morning, Monsignor.

- Alfeo.
- Stefano.

Everyone was shocked at my coming here.

They think I'm trying to steal your show.

You've helped make it.

I thought I wouldn't see you
till the ceremony at St. Peter's.

I won't be there.

I'm going to Warsaw tonight
to meet with the Cardinals of Vienna...

and I won't be back
till you've left for America.

So I thought I would take this chance
to tell you...

well, nothing really...

just to have a look at you
and our old school...

and slip out of here
as inconspicuously as I can.

I'm glad you decided to forget protocol.

I would have hated not seeing you at all.

- Especially the way things look.
- Yes.

Poland seems to be Hitler's next target.

Once again, we may have a war
to separate us.

God bless you, Stefano.

Father Fermoyle.

Your Excellency.

It's a day of glory, Stefano...

though I don't like to think how long
it may be before we see each other again.

I don't know when
I'll ever be back in Rome...

but perhaps you'll come
to Boston some day, or New York.

It's possible, when this war is over.

I'm more likely to travel
in my new post at the Vatican...

than I was as a seminary lector.

But, you'll come back to Rome.

Most parish priests in America
don't get the chance.

You will not be like most parish priests.

I've read your new chapters.

And as usual, I think they are splendid.
But as usual...

that hasn't stopped me from writing...

almost as many pages of notes
as there are in the manuscript.

- You must finish this book, Stefano.
- I intend to.

I just hope wherever I'm sent,
it isn't too far from a decent library.

You will manage, even in America.

Over the years...

I had very few students
with your special talents.

Not only scholarship.

I've watched how you handle people.

I have even watched how you handle me.

If you noticed, then it wasn't very skillful.

I am an unusually observant man.

Seriously, Stefano, I expect a lot from you.

You have a fine mind,
and a way of coming to grips with life...

that is, well, Roman.

Your Excellency couldn't have chosen
a word to flatter me more.

But you also have a drive
that can be described only as American.

It makes a good mixture.

We need that drive over here.

We need it now, in this war...

if the Kaiser and his partners
are ever to be defeated.

Do you think it will happen that way,
America join the Allies?

As an Italian, I hope so, but...

what a nation will do is hard to predict.

Even for a member
of the Vatican Diplomatic Corps?

As of today, I'm still a teacher...

and I make predictions
only about my students.

You know the ring I wear?

This one also was designed
by Dolcettiano...

in the great days of Florence.

Three times in as many centuries...

there have been two bishops at once
in the Quarenghi family to wear them.

But when my brother died...

that was the end of the tradition.

I want you to have his ring, Stefano.

I couldn't.

A bishop's ring?

Not for now.

For when the day comes.

Keep it for then.

There he is! Steve!

- Do you see him?
- Steve!

Okay, Father, go ahead.

Florrie.

Hello, Frank.

Monie!

Is that really my little sister?

Notice anything different?

As a priest, I guess I should say no...

but I'm not supposed to tell lies, either.

Where's Dad?

I hear the clergy travels free of charge
on Dennis Fermoyle's car.

Is that a fact, now?

The hell, you say!

Steve!

Hello, Dad.

Look at him now, will you?

Stiff as a board, he is,
in that fine Italian suit.

But no matter, we'll soon wilt the
Roman starch from that collar of yours.

Dad's already talked to his old buddy,
Monsignor Monaghan.

"Don't make it too easy for my boy,"
Dad said...

"not good for his character."

I said no such thing.

He made him promise not to promote you
to bishop the first day.

But you're going to be, aren't you?

He can't avoid it.

It's nearly impossible to make cardinal,
unless you're a bishop first.

Now pay your fares, the lot of you.

This is no politician looking after his own.

You get no favors from your father
on the Boston Municipal.

How well the new plaster
and wood matches the old.

They all comment on it, Corny.

And what do you say to that?

The job was done by the Cornelius
J. Deegan Construction Company...

without charge,
as a donation to the parish.

That's telling 'em, Monsignor...

but let me give you some of my cards
for next time it comes up.

They remember the name better
if they see it written.

Thank you.

I'll see they find their way
to the right pockets.

You do that.

I was forgetting to mention our drive
for a new heating system.

You mentioned it.

You'll be posting a list of the contributors,
no doubt.

So I have to give what people expect
from a Papal Knight.

I don't know if you knew, Stephen,
I was sent a decoration from the Pope.

Knights of Malta.

Yes, my father wrote me about it.

Did he, now?
And how's old Din coming along?

Bursting out of his britches, I daresay,
with pride over you.

Give him my best, will you?

And tell him it's the old days
I'm missing yet...

before I was rich enough to become
the white-headed boy of this parish.

Look at the size of it, will you?

Raising money is a necessary part
of running a parish, I guess.

If that fancy training of yours didn't cover
the care in handling of millionaires...

what is it they were teaching you, then?

I specialized in ecclesiastical history...

the Reformation period, what led up to it...

which meant learning German,
as well as Italian, of course.

German, as well as Italian, huh?

Yes, in fact, I've been working on a book
about the causes of the Reformation...

and the Council of Trent
and the Counter Reformation.

Council of Trent?

I feel that the churchmen at the time...

were late in recognizing
both the growth of nationalism...

and the development of scientific thought,
and that hastened the Reformation.

That's the thing that did it, was it?

Of course, nothing is ever quite
that simple or straightforward, but...

I disagree, Father.

Let me give you an example.

The year is 1917,
and this is the city of Boston.

Boston, not Rome.

You understand the difference.

That is the church of St. John's...

and you are the new curate here.

All simple, straightforward facts,
are they not?

Yes, Monsignor.

I don't suppose during
the course of your elegant education...

you ever drove a milk wagon.

- No.
- I did, as a lad...

and I learned how to tell
a good milk-wagon horse 10 blocks away.

You get my meaning, Father?

She's a milk-wagon horse I'll be wanting
for a curate, Father.

We don't need any racehorses
at St. John's.

The Monsignor...

quite a man, isn't he?

Yes, he is quite a manager.

They don't call him
"Dollar Bill" Monaghan for nothing.

You'll not find the likes of him in Rome.

So, which is it that you want to be...

a historian or a diplomat,
like your Roman friend...

Bishop Quarenghi.

Or a good priest, like Bill Monaghan?

Both.

But if you had to make a choice
between the two?

A good priest.

The very best priest in all the world?

The best priest in the world.

And how do you expect to be that...

when already you are committing
the sin of pride even to think it?

Frank, will you stop that noise?

Don't you get enough of that...

playing in those Scully Square
movie parlors...

till the Lord knows what hour of the night?

Don't worry about me, Dad.
I get plenty of sleep during the day.

Steve, listen to this. It's a new one.

Dinner's ready.

Shouldn't we wait for Mona?

She's due back from the library
any minute.

The library?

Is that where she told you she was going?

What you do mean by that, Florrie?

I mean, she is more likely out
with lkie Rampbell.

His name's not lkie, it's Benny.

What's the difference?

There are enough Catholic boys
in this parish...

without you having to run around
with a rag-picking Jew.

He's not a ragpicker.

He is studying to be a dentist

He's still a Jew.

I'm sick and tired of having to do
all the work around here...

while she is out with
that sheeny boyfriend of hers.

You like it better not having
any boyfriend at all?

Slut!

Will you go up to Mona, Steve?

You've always had a special way with her.

Yes, you talk to Mona, Steve.

I'll talk to Florrie.

Monie?

It's me, Steve.

Monie.

Put your arms around me.

Remember the bear hugs
you used to give me...

and I'd take you down Crescent Hill
on my double runner?

Before we'd start, I'd show you
how to put your arms around me...

and I'd say:

"No matter what happens,
just hang on to me."

And you'd say, "I'll hang on, Steve."

What am I gonna do?

I'm in love with Benny.

I want to marry him.

Has he asked you?

Yes.

I asked him to wait.

He won't wait forever.

The difference in faith. It doesn't matter?

Only if it matters to you, Steve.

Does it matter?

I'd like to meet Benny.

Would you bring him over to the rectory
one of these days?

I'm so glad you're back.

You're gonna fix everything.

I'm so glad you're home.

- Father, I've got a bet.
- What about?

Chick, here, says that only Catholics
can get into heaven.

Everyone knows Protestants
can't go to heaven.

Why can't Protestants go to heaven?

Does anyone have an answer for that?

- Father!
- Father!

'Cause they ain't Catholics.

How does that strike the rest of you?

He's right!

You're all wrong.

The Catholic Church teaches
that it's possible for anyone...

Protestant, Mohammedan, Jew...

anyone who does God's will according
to his conscience to go to heaven.

Then what's the use of going
to all this trouble to be Catholic?

Yes, Father, what's the use?

We'll take that up next Sunday.

I think we've all had enough for today.

Steve.

This is Benny Rampbell.

- How do you do, Benny?
- How do you do, Father?

The kid had a point there, don't you think?

Have you ever thought
about becoming Catholic?

You know...

my parents aren't too keen on the idea
of my marrying a Christian, either.

Couldn't we just get married,
and then try to convert each other?

No, you couldn't.

For Mona to marry you at all,
she'd need special dispensation...

and you'd have to pledge not to interfere
with the practice of her religion...

and raise your children as Catholics.

That's not exactly
treating the two things as equal, is it?

It would be hypocritical if we did.

We happen to believe our church
is the only true one.

If you're right,
then your rules make sense.

I'm glad you think so.

And, if you're right,
then a guy'd be a fool not to join up.

Would you, Benny?

Steve, I'm in love with your sister.

I want to marry her.

So, if my becoming a Catholic
will make that easier...

I'll give it a try.

Benny, I love you.

- Steve, you did it!
- Not yet.

You'll have to work pretty hard.

No Sunday school stuff for me.

I'm up to my neck in what you call
perfidious darkness.

We'll do our best to turn on the light.

But hasn't Darwin put
the skids to Genesis?

If he's done it for us,
he's done it for the Jewish faith, too.

Listen, if I was a good Jew,
I wouldn't be here.

I don't see how anyone can square this
Adam-and-Eve business with evolution.

Why not?

Good afternoon, Monsignor.

- Father. Benny.
- Good afternoon, sir.

- How're you getting along?
- All right, I guess.

Go ahead, don't let me bother you.

Father Fermoyle was asking you,
"Why not?"

Because they are mutually exclusive.

Not if you separate
what is essential in the Bible.

What affects matters of faith from...

the names and physical details
that don't have to be taken literally.

Dogma is that there is
one pair of first parents...

from whom all mankind is descended.

That truth remains...

whether or not evolution was the method
by which God chose to create them.

I've been working on
a similar question that came up when...

Copernicus and Galileo...

made their discoveries
about the mechanics of the universe.

What's that?

It's a book I've been writing...

in my spare time.

I borrowed a quote on the subject
from Bishop Quarenghi, my teacher.

Why didn't you say so in the first place?

That makes everything clear.

The Bible teaches not
how the heavens go...

but how to go to heaven.

A pretty phrase, Father...

but aren't you getting
a bit away from the usual instruction?

- Benny's a tough nut to crack.
- There's nothing tough about it.

What it all amounts to
in the long run, Benny...

is faith.

You've got to have faith.

Unfortunately, that doesn't seem
to be contagious.

What's going on out there?

What's happened, Father Lyons?

A miracle, it looks like.

There's blood dripping from the statue,
from her heart.

That girl, Elena,
one of the new Italian immigrants...

her husband was stabbed yesterday.

He was dying when they took him
to the hospital.

She prayed to the Blessed Mother
to save him.

She lit a candle in front of the statue.

She went back to the hospital...

and her husband was sitting up in bed,
asking for pasta.

Get over there, quick.

Speak Italian to them, but for heaven's
sake, get them out of the church.

Children of the miraculous Queen
of the heavens...

let us pray.

Let us cover the Blessed Virgin
with flowers.

Let us cover her with the flowers...

of her litanies.

Lord, have pity on us.

Lord, have pity on us.
Christ, hear our prayer.

Holy Trinity, one single God.

Son, God, Redeemer of the world.

Holy Spirit, thou art God.

He sure does have a way with them.

Holy Mother of God.

Pray for us.

The miracle of the leaking steam pipe...

courtesy of the Cornelius J.
Deegan Construction Company.

And I thought this was a special effort
for my conversion.

It'll be a jolt for those people
when they find out the truth.

Maybe they won't have to.

You're not gonna tell them?

It's not up to me to tell them.

Come on.

I report what we found
to Monsignor Monaghan.

He reports it to Cardinal Glennon's office.

In the end, the Cardinal himself will decide
what to tell them.

What do you suppose that'll be?

He'll probably just fix the steam pipe,
and let the commotion die down.

But if you didn't tell them the truth,
you'd be committing a fraud.

What is the truth?

That the steam pipe leaks.

That's only a fact, Benny.

Like the sun being
the center of the solar system.

Facts are only small parts
of a much larger truth.

Faith?

Faith.

People see blood flowing
from a statue's heart.

They believe God caused it to happen.

- But he didn't.
- But he did.

God is the first cause of everything.

He made that pipe leak.

Judging from all the rust, he must've been
working on that stunt for quite a while.

From all eternity.

- Frank.
- Nice party.

How're you doing?

So far, I've met the Flynns,
the Foleys, the Flahertys...

the Deegans, the Doogans...

the O'Connors, O'Neals, McMahons,
and all the clan O'Toole.

You make it sound like
one of Frank's songs.

After the Irish,
the Germans will be a cinch.

You'll take the war in your stride.

Except for one little problem
you can help me with.

Whose side is God on?

Is he an Englishman,
Frenchman, German...

or is he an American?

He certainly could have his pick.
They all claim him.

- Happy?
- I've never been happier in my life.

How'd you like to meet the Rampbells?

I'd like to, very much.

Mom, Dad...

I'd like you to meet Mona's brother,
Father Steve.

- How do you do, Mr. and Mrs. Rampbell?
- Hello.

I feel for you both. There's nothing quite
as lonely as being in a crowd of strangers.

Not entirely strangers, Father.

There are several men here
I've done business with for years...

including our host.

Of course, I've never been invited
to their homes before.

Or invited them to yours.

Or invited them to ours, it's quite true.

All right, you micks,
let's have a little quiet here.

I want to propose a toast...

to Mona Fermoyle and her soldier boy.

There they are.

In case you haven't already met him...

the lad's name is Benny Rampbell.

But don't let the name throw you.

I have it on reliable authority...

that it's soon to become
a good Catholic name.

As soon as that happens,
and I have this on good authority, too...

that same good Catholic name
will become Mona's.

So what do you say?

Let's just tack an "O" in front of it...

and make the whole clan of them
honorary Irishmen.

Now we know the answer.

God is an Irishman.

Come on.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

It's been one week since
my last confession.

These are my sins.

Yes?

I slept with a man.

Are you engaged to this man?

Yes.

Couldn't you have waited
until you were married?

Steve, you didn't persuade him.

Benny's not going to become a Catholic.

I thought...

if we made love...

I thought I could make him
change his mind.

Steve, I'm so miserable.

Please help me.

Would he agree to let your children
be raised as Catholics?

No.

He says that isn't fair.

He won't marry me at all,
unless I take him just the way he is.

Then you cannot be married.

He says, "Let's leave all religion
out of it and...

"get married by a judge."

That wouldn't be a marriage.
You'd be living in mortal sin.

What else can I do?

Why do you think I came here?

I want you to tell me what to do.

Hard as it may be, you must give him up.

Is that all you can say?

You must stop
these illicit relations immediately.

- Steve.
- Father.

This is me.

And I'm a priest.

What you've done is immoral and cheap.

It wasn't cheap.

I'm in love with him.

Is that a sin?

Unless it's subordinated to a higher love,
the love of God, yes.

Steve, you told me to hang on.

I'm just trying to hang on.

Help me.

Please help me.

Benny'll be going overseas soon.
He may be gone for a long time.

There's a saying in Italian:

"Love makes time pass,
time makes love pass."

For these and all other sins
that I have committed, I ask forgiveness.

For your penance, say three rosaries.
Now make a good act of contrition.

My God, I am heartily sorry
I have offended thee.

And a firm resolution to sin no more.

I can't do that!

You must.

I shouldn't have come here.

Cardinal Glennon will see you now, Father.

Good afternoon, Father Fermoyle.

Your Eminence.

I take the ring off for Bach.

Everyday I practice for an hour.
My staff encouraged me.

It may be that they hate music
and enjoy hearing what I do to it.

Or perhaps they've learned the more
I pound the piano the less I pound them.

They're probably right.

I'd hardly call it pounding, Your Eminence.
You play very well.

The Goldberg Variations
are a great challenge to the amateur.

But wasn't Your Eminence playing
the Chromatic Fantasy?

When you compliment me as a musician,
I must find out whether you know music.

Not that I'm trying to trap you.
That's not my purpose.

It isn't?

No, it's because of my infernal weakness
for flattery.

You see, Fermoyle, I'm incorrigibly vain...

not about my personal charms...

but about certain accomplishments...

that have nothing to do
with my function as a priest.

Because of this flaw in my nature,
I must always be on my guard.

Not only for the sake of my soul,
but for yours.

I've read your book.

I'm no historian, but it seems
a comprehensive treatment of the subject.

Thank you.

Why did you send it to me?

Because Bishop Quarenghi
liked it very much and he felt...

- Quarenghi, of the Vatican.
- Yes.

He felt the next step would be
to get your imprimatur to publish it.

Quarenghi read your book?

Yes. In fact, he helped me
with a great deal of it.

You were close friends
with this Bishop Quarenghi?

He was my teacher.
I admire him very much.

He's in the office
of the Secretary of State?

Yes, he is assistant to Cardinal Giacobbi.

Giacobbi, whose main passion in life
is to guard the Holy Father...

from contaminating contacts
with non-ltalians.

Cardinal Giacobbi would have good reason
to like your book.

I'm not sure I understand...

It deals with a time
when the Western Hemisphere...

had little or no ecclesiastical significance.

Tell me, why did you write it?

- Why?
- Yes, why? For what reason?

- What did you expect to gain?
- I didn't expect to gain...

Fame?

- No, it was just...
- Admiration in Rome?

The subject interested me...

A job in the Vatican,
with the Secretary of State...

close to your Italian friends?

It was a field
that had been neglected and...

Come, now. Examine your motives.
You are an ambitious priest.

I recognize all the symptoms.

You feel you're too good for parish work.

I have never said that.

Don't you think you're wasted here?

Your gifts for language...

for scholarship, diplomacy...

All these are wasted at St. John's.
Admit it.

No, Your Eminence.

- The truth.
- I will serve wherever I'm sent.

Father Fermoyle,
do you think there's more in you...

than being a mere parish priest?

The truth.

Of course I do.

You wanted the truth, Your Eminence.

Ambition is a disease in any man.
In a priest, it can be fatal.

But at your age, it may still be curable.

We shall begin your treatment at once.

Cold climate, simple diet.

Stonebury. Perfect.

Stonebury will be
your spiritual sanitarium.

You are now curate at Stonebury.

The parish church is called St. Peter's,
no irony intended.

You will assist Father Halley.

A truly remarkable man.

As a pastor, he's a total failure, but...

as an individual, he is without vanity...

ambition.

From him, you can learn humility.

Goodbye, Father Fermoyle.

Steve!

Where've you been?
Where's Dad and the rest?

I tried to get you
before you left St. John's.

- What's wrong?
- Have you seen Mona?

- No.
- Any message from her?

- No.
- She's gone.

She didn't come home last night.
We don't know where she is.

With Benny?

No, his regiment went overseas yesterday.

Let me know
the minute you hear anything.

Send me a wire at Stonebury.

Call me. Tell Mom and Dad not to worry.

- Father Fermoyle?
- Yes.

Bonjour, Father.

Jump on.

Father Halley sent me to pick you up.

Me, Hercule Menton.

I'm very glad to meet you, Hercule.

Father Halley.

Father Fermoyle.

Sorry I couldn't meet you myself.

I was glad to be met at all. Thank you.

- You make a good fire.
- I was going to make some tea.

Good, I'll just take this off.

- Here, let me help you off with that coat.
- Thank you.

I'm not used to company.

You should ask them to send you a curate.

I'm afraid I've had
too many favors from His Eminence.

Besides, there's hardly enough
revenue here to support one priest...

let alone two.

Things will be looking up
now that you're here.

And a remarkably good collection
this Sunday.

Quite a haul for St. Peter's.

$1.85.

Tomorrow we'll buy some coffee
to celebrate...

your arrival with festivities.

What's the matter?

Nothing.

You should be in bed.

This'll pass, it always does.

- Father, you're sick.
- I'm not sick.

Sit down.

Let's have some bread and tea.
I'll be all right.

- Have some fish.
- No, thank you, it's enough.

I always eat my principal meal at midday.

- Would you like the fish?
- No, thank you.

In the morning,
I'll show you around the parish.

Why don't you rest tomorrow?
I can manage alone.

Bless us...

and these, thy gifts, which we are
about to receive from thy bounty...

through Christ, our Lord...

Amen.

Father, I insist you eat that fish.

You must be hungry after your long trip.

Father Fermoyle.

- Good morning, Hercule.
- Good morning, Father.

- How are you?
- Come in, come in.

My daughter, Lalage.

- Hello, Father.
- Hello, Lalage.

- Welcome.
- Thank you.

- How is Father Halley?
- Not too well, I'm afraid.

I'm glad they sent someone to help him.

And this is my wife, Adele.

Will you stay and eat with us, Father?

Don't worry, there's plenty.

No, thank you.
I'd better be getting back to Father Halley.

Wait...

Father Halley needs a hot meal.

This'll make you feel better.

How long have you had these spells?

A long time?

What does the doctor say?

Well, he...

- You've seen a doctor, haven't you?
- Yes, no.

He couldn't diagnose it.

He said I'd have to go to the hospital
for a week for a series of tests.

And?

We can't afford it.

The diocesan can afford it.

No, you mustn't ask him.

But you're sick.

His Eminence mustn't know.
He mustn't know that I'm sick.

Cardinal Glennon? Why not?

Well, you see...

he gave me my first parish...

St. Anselm's in Stowe.

It was a small church with a big mortgage.

I couldn't lift it.

He sent me to Needham.

It was a prosperous parish.

There was money in the bank.

And I ran Needham into debt.

His Eminence warned me.

Then he sent me to...

Malden, lpsfield...

always some place lower in his favor.

There's no more favor left, now.

He's disappointed in me.

He mustn't know...

that I've failed again.

Father Fermoyle,
your brother phoned the store...

to come to Boston as quickly as you can.

Mona.

What do you guys want?

We want to talk to our sister.

It sure don't look like
she wants to talk to you.

Mona, please.

What do you want?

We want you to come home.

Why?

You're breaking their hearts, Mona.

Please come home.

All right, I'll come home.

You don't think Mom will mind
if I bring Ram?n home with me, do you?

He spends a lot of his time in jail
and he hasn't really learned to read yet.

You can tell her he's a Catholic.

Mona, listen to me.

- Benny won't be gone...
- Shut up.

We'll start all over again.

We'll try to work out a way
that you and Benny can be married.

I promise I'll do everything I can.

Why don't you leave me alone!
What do you want from me?

I just want you to be happy.

Is that all?

Don't you want to forgive me, too?

Isn't that what you priests
usually like to do the most?

- He's not your enemy, Mona.
- God will forgive you.

Will you hear my confession, Father?

I'll be glad to hear your confession
at the proper time...

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

- Don't do this.
- I'll do anything I damn well please!

I've had it.

I'm through. I'm through with you
and I'm through with your...

pious, mealy-mouthed,
hypocritical religion.

And I'm through with your God, too.

The next time you talk to him,
you tell him that for me.

Come on, lover, let's dance.

It's not your fault.

Yes, it is.

- Lalage.
- Hello, Father.

Did you do all this?

You said look after Father Halley
while you were gone. So I did.

- The doctor's with him now.
- What doctor?

Dr. Carter.
I got him to come up from Lynchburgh.

I work in his office sometimes.

Now that you're back,
I better be going home.

It was very kind of you to do so much.

It's very little compared to what he's done.

Father Halley?

When I was a child, Grand-mere died.

She was very old, very frightened...

very religious.

Father Halley was sick himself,
but he stayed with her night and day...

prayed with her, helped her die well.

I'll be back to fix supper.

Doctor?

Father Fermoyle?

I'm afraid your pastor's a very sick man.

What is it?

The name of the disease? I can tell you,
but very little else about it.

It's called multiple sclerosis.

We don't know its cause,
and there's no cure for it.

It's a breakdown
of the entire nervous system.

It can develop quickly or slowly.

But always in the same direction.

How far has it gone with Father Halley?

Near the end.

Has he always had this lack of energy?

I think so. I'm not sure how long.

Chances are he's been slowly dying
all his adult life.

It's amazing he was able to function at all.

- What can we do for him now?
- He'll need full-time care.

He ought to be in a hospital
or a nursing home.

If he's going to die, he'll die as a pastor
in his own bed, in his own parish.

That's liable to be harder on you
than it is on him.

Thank you.

You give him this as directed.

- Is this medicine very expensive?
- Yes.

The longer he lasts, the more it will cost.

It's never agreeable to watch someone go.

Forgive me for the long time I take.

Doesn't any of this bother you?

No, it's only nature.

It's strange.

What is strange?

For a girl who's young, attractive...

to spend her days, her nights like this.

But you are a priest.

You must understand
what it is to want to be of use.

You see, I have my vocation, too.

I have been accepted by the Geraldines.

The Geraldines?

The nursing sisterhood.

Yes, I know.
They take care of the incurable.

The incurable and the dying.

And that's the life you want?

That is the life I was born for.

Did you ever see this ring before?

Yes, it used to be mine.

Where did you get it?

- It was given to me.
- By whom?

By a friend.

Where did you get the ring?

Your fence, I believe, as you say
in the underworld, was pinched.

One of the items recovered was this ring.

The police thought
it might have been stolen from a bishop.

But the Karaghousian twins...

claimed they bought it
from one Father Fermoyle.

We've never had a priest
working with the Mafia before.

But I suppose during your stay in Rome,
you made many interesting contacts.

I had no choice, Your Eminence.

I had to work my way
through the seminary...

selling opium in St. Peter's Square.

- You're not afraid of me, are you?
- No.

Why not? Most people are.

Maybe it's because
you remind me of my father.

He's sometimes called
Din the Downshouter.

But his roar
is the only fierce thing about him.

He's a lucky man to have a son...

who's not afraid of him.

But about this ring...

why did you sell it?

- I needed the money.
- What for?

For private reasons, Your Eminence.

There are no private reasons
between a priest and his archbishop.

I needed the money to pay
for Father Halley's medical expenses.

- Is he ill?
- He's dying, Your Eminence.

- Why wasn't I told?
- He didn't want you to know.

Father O'Brien,
have the car brought around.

Ned?

Your Eminence.

- Larry.
- How are you, Larry?

Giving everybody a bad time, as usual.

You know me, Ned.

I've let you down again.

No, it's I who've let you down.

Who else would have put up so long
with an old muddler like me?

You're no such thing.

Now, Larry...

no more of that silver tongue of yours...

that we always said
would talk you to the top.

The top of a mountain of worldly vanity.

I do want to thank you
for giving me this parish.

The poorest in the diocese.

It was rich to me.

And then you sent me Father Fermoyle.

Vain, ambitious Roman puppy.

He's rather like you were, Larry.

That's a mortal blow.

I mean in his goodness.

Would you let him take my place here?

He'll make a good pastor, I know.

People love him already.

Grand idea. Thank you, Ned.

Would you do me one last favor?

Anything.

Would you give me extreme unction?

I'd consider it a great honor, Ned.

It'll be over soon. I hope.

You'll have the job
of shutting down the church.

Send all the records to the dean at Averill.

But, Your Eminence...

I've kept the church open only for his sake.

- But you told him you were going to...
- I thanked him for his idea.

I happen to have another one for you.

But these people need a church.

A priest will come Sundays for Mass.
All else will be done through Averill.

Once a week isn't enough.

You must learn
that when I've made up my mind...

I don't like interminable discussion,
otherwise you'll be no use to me...

as my secretary.

- Are you sure it's the same guy?
- Absolutely.

And now, we proudly present...

Bobby and his Adora-Belles.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,
I take great pleasure in presenting...

that suave Tiger of the Tango:

Ram?n Gongaro and his partner.

That isn't Mona.

Let's go.

- Where's Mona?
- I don't know.

Where is she?

- I haven't seen her for five months.
- Where did you see her last?

- In Albany. She left the act there.
- You mean you left her there.

- No, I told her...
- Told her what?

I told her I'd pay.

- Pay for what?
- For an abortion. But she didn't want...

Great, our only lead
and you have to knock him cold.

What's going on there?

It's our friend, Officer.
He's a bit under the weather, I'm afraid.

What with the chilly night...

and the need for a nip to keep one warm.

- Could I be getting your friend a cab?
- That would be most kind of you, Officer.

I'm Ram?n.

- What do you want?
- Where's Mona?

Second floor, in the back.

Mona, it's me.

Put your arms around me, just hang on.

I'm Dr. Parks.

- Are you the husband?
- No.

She has no husband.

She's our sister.

Your sister's been in labor
for several days.

She's lost a great deal of blood.

Why has she received
no medical attention?

Because we didn't know where she was.

Her pelvic structure is abnormally small.

The child's head is unusually large.
Normal delivery is impossible.

You can perform a cesarean, can't you?

It's much too late for that.
But we can save her.

I'll need your permission
as next of kin to do a fetal craniotomy.

- A craniotomy?
- Yes.

We have to crush the child's head.

You want to kill the child?

You can't let Mona die.

I take it this is
some sort of religious scruple?

It's a Commandment. "Thou shalt not kill."

But it's all right to kill Mona?

If Mona dies because we won't...

commit a murder to save her,
she dies a natural death.

But the baby...

We'd be taking a creature of God's...

alive, with a soul.

And deliberately kill it.

I won't permit you to kill Mona.

Excuse me, there's not much time.
Are you a member of this family?

No.

Then which of you has the final say here?

He does.

I can't give you my permission
to commit murder.

Can I see her?

You have to be quick about it,
unless you want to lose both of them.

Monie, can you hear me?

Hear.

Say after me...

O, my God, I am heartily sorry
for having offended thee.

O...

thee.

O, my God.

God...

O, my God...

All right, Father, you'll have to go now.

Steve!

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday, dear Regina

Happy birthday

to you

- Happy birthday. What a big girl!
- Blow out the candles.

Give it a try.

Blow out the other one. Blow it out.

Two, one more.

Get in.

Father Callahan packed a bag for you.
Whatever he forgot, you can buy in Rome.

Rome?

Yes, the Pope died this morning.

What does the Captain say?

We've lost three days.
If it clears tomorrow, we can make up one.

He'll have to do better than that.

The only thing that's keeping me alive...

is the thought of...

being there in time to vote for a new pope.

To go through
what I'm going through now...

would be...

- Where's my trunk?
- They promised to send it right over.

- What's happening?
- Nothing.

There should be smoke soon,
white or dark.

This ballot is taking a long time.

Maybe it'll be dark.
Maybe there's still no majority.

Would you prefer that?

What difference does one more ballot
make if it's a deadlock?

The American Church
has a right to participate.

It's white!

Yes, Your Eminence, right away.

It's all wound up.

Stephen, good of you to come down.
Sit yourself.

And how have you been occupied,
this splendid Roman day?

Your private audience
must have gone very well.

What's he like, the new pope?

Amazing, the way he takes it
all in his stride.

The man was made cardinal
only eight months ago.

I brought up a point of procedure
for the next conclave.

A procedure for what happens
when he dies?

- That must have been a bit delicate.
- He seemed quite detached about it.

I explained that no matter
how much faster ships they build...

ten days is still too short a time
to get from the United States to Rome.

He agreed to make it 15 days.

Congratulations.
That's quite an accomplishment.

Not my only one today.

Before I forget, your...

bishop's ring.

You'll be needing it one of these days.

The Holy Father, it seems,
is genuinely interested in America.

I called his attention
to the almost complete absence...

of our countrymen
from the ranks of the Secretariat of State.

From there it was
only a step to persuading him...

it'd be difficult for the Vatican to function
in the future without your services.

You'll be a domestic prelate,
Monsignor Fermoyle.

Entitled to wear the violet cassock
and manteletta.

Well, Stephen?

What's the matter?

It isn't an easy thing to explain.

What isn't?

Speak up, man.

I can't accept a post at the Vatican.

Can't accept?

- It's not a matter of choice.
- In this case, it is.

I have to leave the priesthood.

But that's impossible.

- You can't suddenly...
- It isn't sudden.

I've been working up to this for years.

I'm only telling you now because...

What a masterpiece of timing!

An hour ago, at the Pope's request I was
listing your virtues to Cardinal Giacobbi.

What a story he'll make of this,
with his anti-American prejudice.

You set the whole hemisphere
back a decade.

I'm deeply sorry for any embarrassment
this may cause you, but I hardly think...

I don't want to hear what you think.
Now or ever.

Go, do you hear me? Go!

Our conversation is over.
You're dismissed! Go.

Yes?

Your Eminence.

You didn't even explain to me
why you want to leave the priesthood.

I should have.
I didn't get the right opportunity.

It's been in your mind for so long.
May I sit?

- Please do, Your Eminence.
- Why didn't you tell me before?

I don't know.

I wasn't clear enough
about what I really thought.

I must know what's behind
this extraordinary decision of yours.

I'm not sure I could separate
one reason from the others and say:

"That's what did it."

I don't think I was meant to be a priest
to begin with.

It wasn't my idea.

My parents decided it when I was a baby.

I can't remember a time
when it wasn't an established thing.

Like Dad being the one to go out
and earn a living...

Mom staying home to care for the house
and kids. Nobody ever questioned it.

I never questioned it.

A dollar a week was put aside
for my education.

A dollar a week out of a motorman's pay.

By the time I was in seventh grade
my brother was calling me "the Cardinal."

This morning I'd have said
he had the makings of a prophet.

The only doubt I had, I wasn't sure
I had the strength to be a good priest...

to deny myself what had to be denied...

to live without the softness of a woman.

On the other side,
there was the scholastic part.

I liked my courses, I was good at them.

As long as it was all theory
and no practice...

I felt I was where I belonged.

But then came the time
when I was on my own...

when I had to function
as God's anointed...

answering people's questions about
what was right, what was wrong...

making decisions for them.

And one day,
it was my own sister who needed my help.

And I found I couldn't help her.

Because what she needed was a man,
a friend, a brother.

And all I could be was a judge
with a set of rules.

And finally the time came when
my being a priest meant she had to die.

I did what I had to do, I know that.

What I had to do as a priest,
as an agent of God's law...

I couldn't do what a layman would do
in the same situation:

Pretend that he'd never heard of the law.

I don't challenge the rules.

I just don't want to be the one
to enforce them.

Not for anybody's sister.

I don't want the power
over other people's lives.

I can't face the responsibility.

That's what it really comes down to.

I sit in the confessional,
listening to someone tell his sins...

and I'm the one who's trembling in terror.

I don't know what will become of me.

I must find what else I can do.

But I think, I pray...

that there may be
another kind of life for me.

A life I was meant for...

that will let me sleep nights.

Steve...

I'm going to ask you
to do something for me...

because I think you're wrong
about yourself.

I think I see your problem
more objectively than you can.

Regardless of how it came about,
you were meant to be a priest.

I'm going to ask you
to postpone your decision.

There's something
I can do as your bishop.

It's seldom done, but I can grant you
a leave of absence from active priesthood.

I'll tell Giacobbi...

it's for reasons of health. And it is.

The health of your soul.

Priesthood isn't something
you can put on and take off...

like the cassock you wear.

It's part of you.

Think about it, Steve.

Take a year, take two years.

If at the end of that time,
you're still of the same mind...

I'll do all in my power to get you
a dispensation from your vows.

But...

should you wish to remain a priest...

I'm sure the Holy Father can be persuaded
to keep the position open for you here.

Will you do this much, Steve...

for me and for yourself?

Because of the holiday,
we won't be meeting again for two weeks.

Before our next class, I would like
you to prepare a conversation in English...

about a trip in an automobile
from Vienna to Salzburg.

Until then, auf Wiedersehen.

'Bye, sir.
I hope you have very fine holidays.

I'm looking forward
to seeing you again in 14 days.

- Goodbye.
- Thank you very much.

Thank you, same to you.

Yes, Miss Lederbohl?

Nothing. Have a nice holiday.

Thank you.

Mr. Fermoyle,
do you mind if I walk with you?

- No, not at all.
- We go the same way.

Tell me about America.

- In 25 words, or less?
- Or more.

I've got all afternoon and evening
if you need it.

- I want to be prepared.
- Prepared for what?

My dream is to go to America someday...

where people think about the future,
instead of always the past.

Please invite me for a cup of coffee.

All right.

Where would you like to go in America?

First to New York, of course.
Then, I haven't made up my mind yet.

Where do you think I should go?

- Where are you from?
- Boston.

Boston. That's in Massakewsetts.

Massachusetts.

Tell me about Boston.

All of a sudden I don't know what to say.

I was born in Boston, grew up there,
with my family.

When I was a boy,
we used to swim in the river...

I guess that's hardly an inducement
to visit Boston.

I will go to Boston.

Tell me, what do you do?

- I teach.
- I mean when you're not teaching.

Do you go out to the theater, to parties?

Who are your friends?

I tried to find out,
but no one seems to know.

Sometimes I think all you do is sit
alone in your room in the Stallburggasse.

How do you know where I live?

I followed you.

You're different than other men.

"From" other men.

- You know how to wait.
- How to wait for what?

For "whom."

What are you going to do
over the holidays?

I guess I'll just sit all by myself
in my room in the Stallburggasse.

- You want to know something?
- Yes.

I won't let you do that.

Before the war there was no choice
for a girl, only to be married.

Now there are not enough men.

Families have lost their money.

Most of my friends have jobs,
or try to find them.

So people think I'm lucky to have
a rich young man who wants to marry me.

Do you? Think you're lucky?

I'm not sure.

For me to work at a job,
that is not to be a woman.

I think there's one thing I could do well.

One thing I was born for.

To love a man.

To love him so much
that my whole life is to make him happy.

If that's true, then I should think...

When it is my whole life,
it is important I find the right man.

- All I do is talk about myself.
- And about Vienna.

And you talk about America.

But not about Stephen Fermoyle.

Not much to talk about.

I've been in Europe about a year and a half.
Teaching, mostly.

First in Milan, then Munich, now Vienna.

I just go wherever the
International Language School sends me.

But what did you do before?
I mean, in Boston. What did you do there?

Why did you come to Europe?

Aren't we supposed to get off here?

The abbey was founded in 1410...

the church built in a rich Baroque style...

1721-25.

It has a tower. Possibly the finest
Baroque tower of Austria.

You sound like Baedeker.

I'm just trying to keep it impersonal.

The chief attractions of the interior
are the stucco reliefs on the ceiling.

The altar paintings by Schmidt of Krems.

The pulpit richly carved by his father,
Johann Schmidt.

- And the choir stalls...
- Yes, I know all about them.

I've been here before.

- You have?
- Many times.

Why?

I come here to pray.

You're a strange man.

I'm a priest, Annemarie.

I'm on a leave of absence.

Once in a great while,
when a priest is unsure of his vocation...

he is granted time to think about it.

What happens when your time is over?

I must decide whether I want
to go on being a priest...

or ask for a dispensation from my vows,
if I can get one.

In the meantime,
those vows are still binding.

Will it be harder for you to be with me,
now that you've told me?

No harder than before, I think.

Because if I thought...

I was having an influence,
directly or not directly...

on what you will decide...

Yes, if you did?

I would make it, how does one say?

A full-time career.

Annemarie.

There will be no arguments about tonight.

You have to see a Viennese ball,
and this is the last one of the season.

I rented everything you need.

Look.

Tails...

evening shirt, white tie...

- west.
- "Vest."

And a cape.

And Manschettenkn?pfe.
How do you call that?

- Cufflinks.
- Cufflinks. And this?

Studs.

And chapeau claque.

- Good evening, Kurt.
- Good evening.

- You look wonderful tonight.
- Thank you.

I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Fermoyle.

Stephen, this is Kurt von Hartman.

- Herr von Hartman.
- Mr. Fermoyle, how do you do?

- You're American, aren't you?
- Yes.

Then you are used to lending
your treasures to impoverished Europe.

May I have this dance please? Annemarie?

Excuse me.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

I heard you say you were from America.

Is it really true
one is not allowed to drink...

even beer and wine?

Are they insane to make this Prohibition?

The people who voted for it obviously
think that any means is justified...

to eliminate the evils of drunkenness.
Excuse me.

You know what that Prohibition is like?

It's like they want to eliminate
the evils of rape...

and so they pass a law
against making love.

Can you imagine a life
without making love?

Excuse me.

- I'm sorry, Stephen.
- For what?

For leaving you alone.

At a ball you should dance.

But you can't.

He seems like a very nice fellow.

Kurt? Yes, he is.

He's the one who wants to marry you?

Yes. Are you jealous?

I'm a priest, Annemarie.

But I'm also a man.

Men can show their feelings,
but a priest has to learn how to hide them.

I can't hide them anymore.

I think I'm in love with you.

I know I'm in love with you.

I cannot ask you to kiss me
while you're still married to the Church.

But in Vienna, even for a married man...

it is a sin not to dance a waltz.

You answer this letter from Philadelphia.

Tell them there will be no private
audiences for at least six weeks.

Welcome to Vatican City, Father Gillis.

Monsignor Fermoyle.

Your letter to the Holy Father
was passed on to me...

as a consultant on American affairs.

He'll see me?
The Holy Father will really see me?

I'm afraid I couldn't arrange that.

But I have arranged for you
to tell your story to Cardinal Giacobbi.

That's the next best thing
to a private audience with the Pope.

I didn't know if I'd hear back at all.

Since I mailed my letter
the day I got to Rome...

I've been waiting
to be called to the phone.

Shall we go along?

His Eminence is expecting us.

Fermoyle, come in, come in.

So, this is the American priest
you told us about.

I'll come back when you're finished.

No, stay. It will not take long, will it?

Monsignor Fermoyle
and Cardinal Quarenghi are old friends.

You find yourself
in a nest of diplomats, Father.

That means that if anyone of us says
exactly what he's thinking...

it's a slip of the tongue.

Sit down.
Please, tell us what we can do for you.

Father Gillis's parish is in the state
of Georgia, in a town called Lamar.

His congregation raised the money
for him to come here.

That's very interesting.

St. Jude, Your Eminence.
It's called St. Jude, my church.

The saint of lost causes.

We should like not to lose this cause.

You see...

there is only one Catholic school
in that part of Georgia.

And, well...

that school will not take the children
of my parish because they're black.

- Well?
- Well, Your Eminence...

is that a Christian thing to do?

It is against Christian principles
for a Catholic school...

to turn away a Catholic child
because of race.

Of course it is.

But we have the most precise machinery...

for the proper enforcement
of these principles.

I did what was proper.

I went to the dean of the district,
Monsignor Whittle.

He said he would never ever
let colored children in their school.

And your bishop?

I wrote him and didn't get an answer.

Then you decided
that the only recourse left to you...

was to come to Rome
and tell your troubles to the Pope?

Your pardon, Eminence.

But one thing happened
before Father Gillis decided to come.

His church was burned to the ground.

Quite a few of the folks in my parish...

they feel it's time to make some changes.

So a bunch of them went and threw
a picket line around that white school.

They threw what?

They marched in front of the school
with signs, protesting the discrimination.

Then I got a lot of phone calls...

and letters with no names signed.

And then one night,
these men with white hoods...

they burned my church.

Barbarians.

But still it's scarcely a tribute
to your priestly discretion, is it...

that your concern with
these peculiar local politics...

has left you without a church?

Politics, my dear Giacobbi?

The desecration, of course,
is a moral issue.

I was speaking of Father Gillis's activities.

But discrimination is a moral issue, too.

It is not necessary to tell me...

that race prejudice is contrary
to the teachings of Christ and his church.

The question is,
whether it is wise to use methods...

that tend to be inflammatory.

I'm not sure that we can afford
to use methods that tend to be glacial.

The truth of the matter is that
to the non-white majority of the world...

there is no more critical test
of our democracy...

Democracy, my dear Fermoyle,
is neither the ultimate...

nor necessarily
the best form of government.

It is simply the favorite doctrine
of a country...

discovered by an Italian, who thought
he was going someplace else.

Your Eminence suggests
a stimulating topic for discussion...

but my point is that what happens
to freedom in America...

is important to the rest of the world.

But isn't your precious separation
of church and state...

a part of that freedom?

Aren't you always telling us
we may not intrude...

in the domestic affairs
of your country in any way?

By your own logic, it is foolish...

to challenge the deepest feelings
and convictions...

of the people of...
What is the name of the place?

- Georgia, Your Eminence.
- Georgia.

Father Gillis, may I suggest that
your primary obligation is not...

to political and social reform...

but to the mortal souls of your flock.

Thank you, Monsignor,
for bringing us Father Gillis.

We're always happy
to meet a brother in Christ.

Let's get back to our work now.

I really don't remember where we left off.

Is that it?

I'd hoped we could dissuade him.

What will you do when you get back?

Thank you for your support.

I must go there, Alfeo.

I told him he could count on my help
and then I failed him.

You went as far as you possibly could
within the limits of your function.

There was another time
somebody relied on me for help.

I did everything within my function for her,
and it wasn't enough.

If you made a mistake with your sister...

if you were too young to be
both priest and brother to her...

you've atoned for that a long time ago.

You don't have to find new ways
to torture yourself.

I just don't want to realize again
that it's too late to accomplish something.

What is there to accomplish
by following Father Gillis?

I don't know, but I know I have to do it.

I don't think it will be a surprise if I say...

the Pope has given some thought
to naming you a bishop.

I've heard a certain amount of talk.

- You can't tell me it doesn't matter to you.
- It matters very much.

But it also matters to me
what happens to Gillis.

I'll try not to compromise the Holy See.

I don't have to be an official emissary.

You still need
the Holy Father's permission...

which means Giacobbi's, unfortunately.

Do you suppose
the thought might enter his mind...

that I could make
a fool of myself in Georgia?

It might.

What if you started him thinking
along that line?

Why would I want to discredit you?

It might occur to him that this trip could
lessen my chances to become a bishop.

Which could be just the incentive he needs
to grant me permission to go.

Heaven forgive me
for starting you off in diplomacy.

All right, Father.

Uncle Steve, it's so wonderful to see you.

Regina, I'd like you to meet a shipboard
friend of mine, Father Eberling.

Father, I'm sorry. This is awful.

I don't imagine Father Eberling
found it too painful.

Nicest welcome home I ever had.

Now.

Uncle Steve.

I'm so glad you're you, I mean, not him.

You're so much better looking,
and younger.

With that blarney and your looks,
you'll have your pick of husbands.

- Anything to declare?
- Nothing.

Thank you, Father.

Yeah, I'll get the bags.

Steve.

Boy, you look great.
How do you keep the old weight down?

Prayer, Frank. And a strict calorie count.

- How's it going?
- Pretty good.

No money,
but I'm knocking 'em dead every night.

Singing in one of the best speakeasies
in town.

I hope to be able to hear you
before I go back.

What are your plans?

That's the trouble.
You shouldn't have come to New York.

Who said I shouldn't?
Am I some sort of an old lady...

I meant I have to catch a train this
afternoon. We barely have time for lunch.

But it's worth it.

I don't like you spending the money.
Round-trip fares for you and Regina?

- Are you really sorry I brought her?
- She's an absolute delight, ravishing.

Having her around has made it easier
for me to accept God's will.

Seeing her now has made it easier for me.

Excuse me?

Where does Father Gillis live?

- Right over there.
- Thank you.

- Monsignor.
- Father Fermoyle from Boston, for now.

Do come in.

Monsignor Whittle,
this is Father Fermoyle.

- How do you do?
- Hello.

Sheriff Dubrow.

What brings you to Lamar, Father?

I'm a friend of Father Gillis.

I hope I'm not interrupting anything.

I've already said what I come to say.

There's a law against arson in this state.

So I had to do my job.
When Gillis here, Father Gillis...

made out a complaint,
I brought the charges.

Tomorrow he can get up
in the trial and testify.

That is, unless you can talk
some sense into him.

He's your boy, not mine.
Know what I mean?

I don't. What do you mean?

That there's trouble for everybody,
for him, for me, for the Church.

- What are you doing here, Father?
- I told you, I'm a friend of Father Gillis.

As a friend, I wish you'd tell
this hard-headed boy...

He's not a boy, Monsignor, he's a priest.

Do you presume
to correct my terminology, Father?

I simply meant to remind you
that we are all brothers in Christ.

Then, my Yankee brother,
will you tell this Father Gillis...

that he must not testify?

'Cause people around here,
they're in an awful ugly mood.

Do you want to testify?

- Yes, Father.
- Good.

Father Gillis will be at the trial tomorrow.

That does it.
That just about puts the lid on it.

Look, you know nothing
of the conditions around here...

Monsignor, a church has been burned.

Charges have been brought,
testimony must be given.

What is so unusual
about due process of law?

I recognize a Yankee...

sanctimonious self-righteousness.

You will not testify, Father.

You will withdraw your complaint.

You...

you will give me the name of your superior
to whom I will report you.

You were sent here from Rome?

I'm here unofficially.

My presence is
a confidential matter between us.

But it's my strong opinion...

that we must allow Father Gillis
to act as he sees fit.

Just as you say, Monsignor.

I assume that he can count on you
for your support in whatever he does.

- Yes, but...
- Then perhaps we can discuss the details...

of that support on the way into town...

if you can drive me.

I'd like to find a hotel.

Of course. I'd be delighted.

I'll get in touch with you later.

I can't believe you're here.
I didn't think anybody cared.

Have you so little faith?

The hotels are
on the other side of the square.

Who told you that?

I don't need anybody to tell me, Father.
It's in the Bible.

Is it also God's law to burn churches?

We had nothing to do with that, Father.
I'm a good Catholic.

They must be members
of your congregation.

You've got to see the problem, Monsignor.
We're in the minority here, too.

I'm sure you wouldn't have permitted
this demonstration if you'd known of it.

I'll see that it's stopped immediately.

Good people,
can I just talk to you for a minute?

What's going on there?

You want something, mister?

I need a room for a couple of nights.

It just so happens
we don't have any rooms available.

I kind of get the impression
you've been meddling, padre.

Looked to me like it was you
who got that picket line called off.

For a Catholic priest to offer advice
to members of his faith is not meddling.

Maybe you don't know
what's going on in this town.

Some nigger is trying to make trouble
for some white folks.

- Some nigger priest.
- Some nigger Catholic priest.

You can't really get much lower than that.

Perhaps you could recommend
a good tourist home?

If you're a tourist, get touring before
you've got something to be sorry for.

You ain't going to find a bed tonight.
Not in this town.

I don't know, Cecil.
Maybe he could find a bed in niggertown.

Yeah, that's right.

Maybe some licorice-stick bitch
won't mind squeezing over for you.

What do you think, Cecil?

I think we got ourselves
a little job this evening.

Give me the Sheriff's office.

All right.

What do you call this thing?
I mean, the fancy name?

A crucifix.

Yeah, that's what the nigger called it
when we took it from him.

Only he was queer for it.

He kept wanting to kiss it
while we was strengthening his character.

We ain't gonna stand for that kind of stuff.

You know what you're going to have to do
with this little old statue, padre?

You're going to spit on it.

And what would that prove...

except you've been able to scare one
priest into defiling the image of Christ?

Maybe that's just plenty.

You'll tell them other nigger-lovers
up north they ain't welcome here.

Now you spit on it.

I said for you to spit on it!

All right, keep going. Give it to him!

Maybe he needs a little music.
Got your harmonica?

Guaranteed to heal cuts, ringworm,
harness sores and...

foot welts.

Who are you?

Name's Lafe.

You live in Lamar?

All my life.

Are you Catholic?

No.

Then why are you doing this?

I ain't doing much.

Do you think you can walk?

I can try.

I'll take you to Owassa Junction.
You can get a train north there.

I'm going back to Lamar.

There's a trial starting there this morning.

In a quiet way,
you're kind of a hard man, aren't you?

My car's just across the field.

You knew where to find me.

You were one of them last night.

When you start something you don't
always know how you'll feel about it later.

- Last night...
- Don't try to talk. Play.

- Stefano!
- Alfeo.

Monsignor Fermoyle.

We had such a desire to talk to you,
but you couldn't be reached.

I came back to Europe
on a small ship, Your Eminence.

I needed time for meditation.

Your publicity traveled more quickly.

It served to remind us all
of your flair for the theatrical.

If I'd chosen the theatricals,
I'd have staged them differently.

When Quarenghi and I discussed
your trip to America...

I had the distinct impression
it would be an unofficial one.

There were more than 30 witnesses
to that display of violence.

Some talked. The reporters at the trial
had the story soon enough.

What seems important is the result.

A group of racists convicted
on the testimony of a Negro priest.

Convicted not of arson,
but of some minor infraction.

Disorderly conduct. That doesn't matter.

It's the first conviction of a white man
in that part of the country...

on the word of a Negro.

What is the price of victory
in this skirmish?

You plunge the Vatican into controversy,
which many of your leading prelates...

have advised us to avoid.

They're only fooling themselves.
They must face up to it eventually.

Eventually, by all means.
A slow process of education.

In the meantime, kids without
decent education now will die of old age...

before you do anything to help them.

I didn't mean to involve the Church.

Now that it's happened,
I'm not sure it isn't a desirable thing.

Desirable for whom, Monsignor?

For your private causes
or for the Holy Church?

Does your concept of desirability...

include splitting Catholic opinion
in America right down the middle?

Some of us feel, dear brother...

that it is precisely
a clear Vatican policy in these matters...

that might prevent such a split.

We all have our own opinions,
dear brother.

We can only place them
before the Holy Father...

and so discover which of them is correct.

What do you think, Alfeo?
Will the Pope feel I was indiscreet?

Well, your job was supposed to be
consulting on American affairs...

not hurling yourself into the thick of them.

I wouldn't recommend it
as the ideal way to become a bishop.

If there was so much commotion here,
he's probably heard about it already.

If not, you can be sure he will now.

And it won't be long after that
before you know the result.

March 13, 1938.

Hitler enters Vienna...

at 5:30 p.m.,
welcomed by enthusiastic crowds.

Cardinal Innitzer, Archbishop of Vienna,
reads a letter signed by him...

and all the other Austrian bishops,
welcoming Hitler to Austria.

We acknowledge happily that
the National Socialist movement has...

for the German Reich and people...

and especially
for the underprivileged classes...

achieved outstanding progress.

The bishops are extending
their blessings and best wishes...

for the future of these efforts.

On the day of the plebiscite,
it is for us bishops...

a natural, national obligation...

to declare ourselves as Germans
and as part of the German Reich.

We expect of all faithful Catholics...

that they will know
what they owe to their people.

That's enough!

You are familiar with Vienna,
aren't you, Bishop Fermoyle?

Yes, I am, Your Eminence.

I'm going to ask the Holy Father
to send you there immediately.

Your official function will be
to shut down the nunciature.

And my unofficial function?

It will be an educational one.

Instructing a prince of the Church
in the realities of the modern world.

The first thing we noticed
on the screen, Your Eminence...

was that all the church bells
rang as Hitler entered Vienna.

You think they asked me for permission?

It's a standard courtesy
to distinguished visitors.

We are great bell-ringers here.

But this visitor...

Dr. Seyss-lnquart ordered it
as a friendly gesture.

He was Interim Chancellor
and is now Hitler's High Commissioner.

A very devout Catholic. A war hero.

- Some tea?
- Thank you.

You understand
I'm not speaking for myself...

- but for the Holy See.
- Naturally.

Drop of rum in it?

- I don't think I'd...
- Just a taste.

- Sugar?
- Nothing, thank you.

What disturbed the Vatican most...

was the declaration urging
people to vote "Yes" in the plebiscite.

I understand.

You mustn't leave here
without tasting this strudel.

I ordered it for you because I know...

that you Americans
are mostly interested in strudel...

when you come to Vienna.

My only concern, of course,
was the Church.

I've nothing to do with politics.

- That statement was non-political?
- Quite so.

On a vote whether Austria
should become part of Germany?

Austria is part of Germany.
Hitler announced it.

The plebiscite is a mere formality.

A formality that Hitler himself
seems to consider very important.

Precisely. Hitler wants Austria.
A great many Austrians want Hitler.

If the Church presides at the marriage,
we'll get better treatment than if it didn't.

But you're doing more than presiding.
You've come out in favor of the union.

Rome feels the Church
will be stronger in the long run...

if we take a more critical stand
toward National Socialism...

than you have taken so far.

Does Rome have any idea
how Hitler responds to criticism?

Would you like to see Catholic men
and women scrubbing the sidewalks...

like so many Jews?

There are principles
we cannot compromise.

The rights of the Church over family life,
education of our youth.

Your Excellency, what do you think
I'm doing here?

Protecting those very rights.

I have been given personal assurances
from the very highest sources.

We have to remember
what happened in Germany.

Austria is a different matter.
Don't forget this is a Catholic country.

It's the country where
he himself was born and baptized.

- Nevertheless, the Vatican feels...
- You see, Fermoyle...

I know the people who've taken over here.

You'll meet some
at Dr. Seyss-lnquart's reception tonight.

We have a civilized tradition in Austria
that the Germans don't have.

Then why are people here so anxious
to be annexed by them?

Because our blood is German.

It's hard for a non-German to understand.
Hardest of all for an American.

Why do you say that?

You are used to so much mixture.

The joining together
of all German people is...

what we have been dreaming of
for 1,000 years.

The Germans and we are different
in many ways, yes.

But our blood is the same.

I agree with Your Eminence
that it's a hard concept to understand.

Then why waste our time trying?

Why don't you tell me, in brief,
what it is the Holy Father expects of me?

First, he would like you to make it clear...

that your recommendation to vote "Yes"
was purely personal...

not binding on Catholics
as a matter of conscience.

And once that is done, to issue
no further statements on the plebiscite.

Very simple instructions to obey.

I have no desire
to make election statements.

I'm not a politician.

Your Eminence, Theodor Cardinal Innitzer
and your Excellency, Bishop Fermoyle.

General Albrecht Kraus. Bishop Fermoyle.

Frau Walter, may I introduce you
to Bishop Fermoyle?

Frau Clara Walter. Dr. Seyss-lnquart.

Your Eminence.

This is His Excellency Bishop Fermoyle.

An American who works in the Vatican.

I am honored.

I do hope you tell His Holiness
how we esteem His Eminence here.

I spoke today on the telephone
with the F?hrer.

And he said:

"All Austria must be at your command,
my dear Seyss-lnquart...

"except Cardinal Innitzer."

He said, "Remember,
your authority you have from me...

"his is from God."

Herr Kurt von Hartman
and Frau Annemarie von Hartman.

- Heil Hitler.
- Heil Hitler.

I finally did make my trip to America.

Kurt went on business two years ago
and took me along.

But we never saw Boston.

I'm afraid most people don't.
How did you like what you did see?

Very much. Most of it.

There were things our people should have
here to bring them into modern times.

Now, I think we will begin to get them.

Because of Hitler?

Annemarie finds merits in Mr. Hitler...

not apparent to more detached observers.

But you don't agree?

As a banker,
I have to know some economics...

You have to go up about 1,500 meters
to get good snow this late.

The Zugspitze.

St. Christopher above Adelberg...

This is getting to be
a persecution complex.

Not to speak in front of Reinhard,
who's been with us 12 years.

I believe the best rule
is to make no exceptions.

The great danger about the Nazis,
I believe...

is they must keep expanding or collapse.
Sooner or later this means war.

He says peace is
the great dream of his life.

While he builds tanks and planes
and surrounds himself with gangsters.

Some of them are crude, I know.
But I think we need their strength.

Now we have become part
of a great, powerful country.

- Who could it be?
- I don't know.

Excuse me.

Gestapo!

Excuse me.

Kurt!

Do you know why he did it?

His grandmother
on his father's side was Jewish.

The Nazis knew.

Apparently, he was
half out of his mind with fear.

He couldn't decide whether
to get out of the country or what.

He discussed all this with his lawyer,
but he never told me.

- How would you have reacted?
- I'm not sure.

Perhaps he wasn't either.

It wasn't fair of him not to tell me.
How could I help him if I didn't know?

He must have been desperate.

You don't think what he did
was right, do you?

Nothing ever can justify suicide.

But some cases are easier to understand.

The mental condition of people who feel
persecuted becomes distorted...

and nothing they do is understandable
to the normal mind.

Your Eminence.

Forgive me for breaking in on you like this,
but I was at the opera...

and it occurred to me you'd want
to read this at the earliest opportunity.

The correction you asked for
of our statement on the plebiscite.

You'll probably want
to send it on to the Vatican.

I think you'll find it covers
all the points we discussed.

- When will this be published?
- Is Your Excellency joking?

The Nazis aren't going to let anything
be printed that will lose them votes.

I suggest you have it read in every church
in the country, Sunday morning.

That's the day of the plebiscite.

Won't many people go to Mass
before they vote?

- It might cause disturbances.
- Then you reject the idea?

Unless I get a direct order from
the Vatican. That, I'd naturally obey...

even if I thought it was imprudent.

Good night, Bishop Fermoyle.

Don't bother to show me out.
I can see how busy you are.

We're getting the papers from Archbishop
Cicognani's regime ready for shipment.

Reminding me that we'll soon have
no direct voice of Rome at our side.

Good night.

While His Eminence was here,
this lady came.

I wouldn't have come here,
but I didn't know where else to turn.

What's happening?

They are following me, the Gestapo.

I think they followed me here.
I don't know what they're after, but...

if they take me to prison, they can make
me say anything they want to, can't they?

With drugs and torture.

I don't think I could stand much pain.

- I don't know what to do, where to go.
- You can stay here.

Father Neidermoser?
Is Sister Wilhelmina still up?

- I believe so.
- Please ask her to come here.

You'll be safe with us.

- I'm sorry.
- Don't be. I'm glad I can be of help to you.

Thank you.

Come in.

- You sent for me, Your Excellency?
- Yes, Sister.

I want you to prepare a room
for Frau von Hartman.

Certainly.

Sister Wilhelmina will see to it
that you have everything you need.

Will you come with me,
Frau von Hartman?

Thank you again.

Your Eminence must have been
among the first voters this morning.

The news was on the radio at 9:00.

I'm an earlier riser.
I like to say Mass at 6:00.

You advertised how you had voted.

I reported to you
the Holy Father's concern for the...

My dear Bishop, you said I was to issue
no more statements on the plebiscite.

Last night, at the end of Hitler's campaign
speech, all the church bells rang again.

You just won't understand about the bells.

What would attract attention
is not to ring them.

Radio reports say that priests all over the
country are urging people to vote "Yes."

And the big news is
that after you cast your vote...

My purely personal vote.

You gave the Nazi salute, Heil Hitler.

That is correct. The words have become
a part of the German language.

They are used instead of "good morning"
or "good evening"...

even, I regret to say,
instead of "God bless you."

Still, under the circumstances,
that salute was a partisan political act.

I was not issuing a statement.
I have not disobeyed the Holy Father.

Literally, maybe not.

What I tried to convey to Your Eminence
was a spirit, a general attitude.

To that you obviously paid
no attention at all.

You deliberately decided that your way
was better than the Holy Father's.

That's how I see it,
and that's how I'll have to report it.

One moment, Bishop.

You must understand that I have no wish
to pry into your personal life.

That was taken
at Kurt von Hartman's funeral.

May I ask how Your Eminence
happens to have come by this picture?

The police gave it to me.

I knew Frau von Hartman
before she was married.

I was here at the time during
a leave of absence from priesthood.

A leave of absence?

My vows naturally remained in force.
That was many years ago.

And right now, this very same woman
is living with you at the nunciature?

She's staying with Sister Wilhelmina,
the housekeeper.

I don't suggest
there's anything improper about it.

But you must appreciate
what the Nazis might make of it.

I granted Frau von Hartman sanctuary.

From the police, I know.

But does the fact that the police claim
she has committed a crime...

make the propaganda image
any more favorable to the Church?

She has not committed a crime.
Nobody has charged her with anything.

I'd better bring you up to date on that.

There is clear evidence
that Kurt von Hartman...

for understandable reasons,
was planning to leave Austria.

That may be true, but it hardly...

He wanted to take
a large sum of money with him.

That's been against the law for years,
long before the Nazis came.

This in no way involves his wife.

The fact that her personal jewelry
was included.

Included in what?

Sewn, with the money, into the lining
of a suitcase found in the apartment.

- I didn't know about that.
- She didn't tell you.

She told me that she knew nothing
about her husband's plans.

And you accepted that.
I suppose it might even be true.

If it is, she should want the investigation
to proceed so her name can be cleared.

Simply tell her to cooperate
with the authorities.

- When the authorities are the Gestapo...
- I cannot have this scandal.

Not at a moment when I am completing...

the most delicate negotiations
for the future of the Church in Austria.

I have to think about it.
I have to talk to Frau von Hartman.

But you appreciate the importance
of the problem and the urgency?

You'll find a way that won't embarrass me
or my relations with the new government?

Yes, I will find a way.

They've just reported
the totals of the plebiscite.

11,807 "No" votes.

4,443,208 "Yes" votes.

The percentage of "Yes" votes was 99.73.

Thank you, Father.

99 and 3/4 percent majority.

There's a soap in America that's
advertised as 99.44 percent pure.

But Hitler has to be even purer.

- You'll close the nunciature.
- Austria doesn't exist anymore.

Our diplomatic relations are
with Germany, with the nuncio in Berlin.

The Gestapo said they found
a suitcase hidden in your apartment.

Jewelry of yours was sewn
into the lining along with cash.

Kurt always kept my jewelry in his safe.

I'll find a way to get you
out of the country.

You don't owe me anything, Stephen.

I owe you a great deal.

At a time when I'd forgotten how to love,
you helped me to love again.

And you gave that love,
not to me, but to God.

It was his to begin with, it was always his.

For me it was always you.

I never loved another man but you.

Excuse me, Your Excellency, telephone.

I want a Vatican witness
along with me tonight.

Not only to keep the record straight,
but it should be an educational experience.

I want you to report that a non-Roman
can practice successful diplomacy.

- Where are we going?
- To see Adolf Hitler.

We've been waiting more than two hours.
Does the F?hrer know this?

- I'm sure he knows, Your Eminence.
- Thank you.

Two hours is a bit long,
no matter how busy he is...

but at least we should find him
in a good mood.

Austria is his greatest triumph yet.

Cardinal Innitzer.

Not Bishop Fermoyle.

- The F?hrer wants to speak to you alone.
- But I specifically asked...

The F?hrer gave these orders.

Excuse me, Your Excellency.

You will tell people when you are home
in America, about these days of glory...

how you saw two German countries
peacefully reunited.

I will tell people what I saw.

It will be the same
when we free our German brothers...

in the Sudetenland of Czechoslovakia.

And also in your country.

- You're talking about the United States?
- Yes.

We have no wish to conquer your land
or harm your people.

Our only purpose is to liberate
the five million Germans there.

Your friend must have said
something wrong.

He repudiated all his promises to me,
every one of them.

There is going to be a war, he says.

The Church must be drafted
into the service of the Fatherland...

the same as the Army.

In Austria, there must be
even more control than in Germany...

because we have such a Catholic majority.

Our schools are to be abolished.
Our youth groups dissolved.

Catholic marriage will no longer have
the force of law.

At the very end, he started yelling...

and asked me if I didn't think
Almighty God...

had chosen him to lead
the German people to their destiny.

He didn't wait for an answer.

And I remembered myself
at the plebiscite...

raising my hand in a heathen salute...

and saying not, "Praise to the Lord,"
but "Heil Hitler."

We could save the Blessed Sacrament.

It leads to the crypt under the cathedral.

Eminence!

Oh, no. It's only a scratch.

We must get you out of here.

With a Vatican passport, you are one of
the few people who can leave the country.

At least for the moment. You must
tell the truth about Hitler's promises.

You can't stay here, Your Eminence.
You're not safe.

Safety, I'm afraid, is among the illusions
we can no longer depend on.

Pray for me.

Your Excellency,
the most extraordinary thing...

Frau von Hartman.

The Gestapo came to question her. I told
them they'd no right to enter the building.

- That it's the soil of a sovereign power.
- What happened?

Frau von Hartman
went outside to meet them.

She didn't wish to claim
the right of asylum here.

I begged her to wait till
Your Excellency returned, but...

She wouldn't?

Frau von Hartman said
her character was barely strong enough...

to do what she was doing right then.

It wouldn't hold up
if she had to talk to you about it.

Open up!

I couldn't believe it, Your Excellency,
when they told me who was here.

Why did you let them take you?

Because it suddenly seemed easier
not to fight them.

It just didn't matter anymore.

It matters a lot.
We both know you're innocent.

Of one thing, to escape from Austria with
money and jewels. I'm innocent of that.

And with the right help, you may prove it.
I have a lawyer coming to see you.

Is it worth so much effort? I wonder.

I've had time to think about myself
since Kurt died.

When I was a spoiled girl,
I fell in love with a young man.

A priest.

I loved him. At least, I think I loved him.

But he was also a challenge to my vanity.

I wanted to take him away
from his priesthood.

I wanted to take him away from God.

- You're not allowing us much time.
- No, let me speak please.

When I lost that campaign,
I was disappointed...

and I turned to Kurt,
which might have been all right...

if I had been able to make myself, for him,
the wife I used to dream about.

A woman who existed only for her man.

Poor Kurt.

He would have been satisfied with less,
much less, but I gave him nothing.

- Annemarie...
- Let me finish.

Even when two people
have very little to share...

it is possible for them to make
some sort of a life together.

Until one of them has
a very strong need of the other.

When Kurt felt such a need,
there was nowhere for him to turn.

He loved me too much
to leave the country without me...

and he couldn't be sure enough of me
to tell me about his plan.

I can imagine what he felt...

when he heard my foolish talk about
the new Greater Germany.

Because of that alone,
it serves me right that I'm here now.

Do you think Kurt would feel that way?

No.

He was too kind.
He would not want to see me hurt.

Then that's one reason to try
to clear yourself, for his sake.

Also for mine,
because I care what happens to you.

Thank you. I wish I did.

Let's wrap it up! Your time is up.

You have to. The most important reason
of all is for your own sake.

Because of what you are.

Not an ant in a totalitarian anthill...

but a human being, an individual...

with a God-given soul of your own.

Come.

Thank you, Your Excellency.

And goodbye.

I have the honor to inform
Your Eminence...

that the Holy Father will confer
the cardinal's biretta...

at the semipublic consistory
in the Apostolic Palace of the Vatican...

Thursday morning, at 10:00.

Thank you.

My friends...

dear brethren in Christ...

my mother...

and the other members of my family,
who have traveled so far for this occasion.

I thank you all for being here.

And I know you share my gratitude
to the Holy Father...

for the honor he has done to me
and to America.

When His Holiness informed me
that he intended to name me...

to the Sacred College of Cardinals...

my first reaction was that
I could not live up to his confidence in me.

I haven't gotten over that fear yet.
I doubt that I ever will.

But the second thought I had about it
gave me the strength to try.

What occurred to me was
that there is a special significance...

in the Holy Father's decision
to send me back to my own country...

as a cardinal and archbishop...

at this moment of global crisis.

America's first bishop, John Carroll...

was the brother of a signer
of the Declaration of Independence...

and a living example...

of that loyalty to church and state...

to religion and to democracy...

that this moment in history
demands from us all.

I have seen at close range...

the hell on earth that awaits us all
if totalitarianism prevails.

If the world forgets that all men alike
are the children of God...

endowed by their Creator...

with the unalienable right...

to life...

liberty...

and the pursuit of happiness.

That is America's creed.
That is the Gospel of the Church.

It is in danger, at this moment,
from men...

and doctrines that are
the enemies of all freedoms...

political, as well as religious.

The defense of freedom
calls for strong voices...

strong hearts...

strong hands.

Pray for me, that I may not falter...

and for the liberty and exaltation
of our church...

and our beloved country.

God bless you.