All language subtitles for The_Cardinal_(1963).en

- 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 Ramón 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:

Ramón 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.

- Where is she?
- 5 Stanhope Lane, I think.

A noble and lonely task it is, preserving
the law and order on a night like this.

Thank you, Officer.

I'm Ramón.

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

Second floor, in the back.

Who are your friends?

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?