A Man for All Seasons Page #2

NORFOLK:
Who is that?

MORE:
A young friend from Cambridge.

NORFOLK:
What’s he want?

MORE:
(with an aural shrug) What do they all want?—A position. Can you give him a position?

NORFOLK:
(reluctant; surprised) D’you recommend him?

MORE thinks, hesitates, thinks again, and:

MORE:
No.

He passes from frame. NORFOLK stares after:

RICH gives him an ingratiating nervous bob and hurries after:

16 EXT. MORE’S GARDEN AND STEPS DUSK

MORE emerging from house into the now almost dark garden where STEWARD passes him on to waiting MESSENGER. RICH emerges, TRACKING SHOT, RICH at MORE’s elbow.

RICH:
(eager) Well?

MORE:
No.

RICH:
(suspicious, indignant) Did you recommend me?

MORE:
....No.

RICH stops, MORE turns. RICH not only indignant but sincerely hurt.

MORE:
Richard... I may have a position for you ...

RICH:
What? What position—?

MORE, gently, but with a saving impatience; indicating the letter he still carries:

MORE:
Not now, Richard. To-morrow.

RICH watches him follow the MESSENGER to the river steps.

17 EXT. RIVER

LONG SHOT, MORE in the longboat on the dusky river.

CUT:

18 EXT. RIVER-STEPS HAMPTON NIGHT

The six-oared longboat. MORE and MESSENGER in stern, arrives at the Hampton River steps. But it is night now. By each of the litter of waiting boats, a naked torch flares in a bracket, the flames reflected in the water. As they stop, MORE is counting coins from a purse. As he alights STROKE ROWER rises, cap in hand. MORE stoops from steps and throws chinking coins into the cap. MORE For you all, Boatman.

And vanishes into dark, STROKE calling:

STROKE:
Thank you, sir.

19 EXT. HAMPTON COURTYARD NIGHT

MORE passes under the portcullis, the glimmering “Henricus VHF’, glances up at:

A single lighted window in the cliff-like side of Hampton.

20 EXT. HAMPTON RIVER-STEPS NIGHT

STROKE places last coin on thwart.

CLOSE SHOT, five hands whip away five coins. Two remain. STROKE takes them. Looks after MORE. Says.

STROKE:
Gone to see the Cardinal. Rather him than me.

CUT:

21 INT WOLSEY’S STUDY

CROMWELL pushes aside heavy curtain of ante-chamber, says quietly:

CROMWELL:
Sir Thomas is here, Your Grace. (Half turns and says) Sir Thomas ...

He stands back deferentially as MORE comes swiftly through; his manner is relaxed, his gaze frank, but MORE’s eyes flicker upon his for a minute, warily. There is something between them.

MORE:
Master Cromwell ...

22 INT. CROMWELL’S ANTE-ROOM

CROMWELL draws the heavy curtain, stands back. He is alone in the ante-room. He carefully leaves the door ajar, stands listening.

23 INT. WOLSEY’S STUDY

MORE is standing beside WOLSEY’s chair. WOLSEY gives no sign he knows that he is there. But MORE will not lose dignity by speaking or fidgetting. WOLSEY’s pen scratches. In mid-sentence:

WOLSEY:
You opposed me in the Council this morning, Thomas.

MORE:
Yes, Your Grace.

WOLSEY:
You were the only one.

MORE:
Yes, Your Grace.

WOLSEY:
You’re a fool.

MORE:
Thank God there is only one fool on the Council.

WOLSEY grunts. Stops writing. Looks up at MORE.

WOLSEY:
Why did you oppose me?

MORE:
I thought Your Grace was wrong.

WOLSEY:
Matter of conscience. (he puts down his pen, rubs his face wearily) You’re a constant regret to me, Thomas. If you could just see facts flat on, without that horrible moral squint ... with just a little common sense, you could have been a statesman.

A single trumpet calls, distant frosty and clear. WOLSEY’s face changes. All indolence gone he rises and goes to the window. Looks down:

24 EXT. HAMPTON SECOND COURTYARD NIGHT

His POV, the glinting roofs and shadowed courtyard of Hampton. From the blackness of the archway, preceded by a torch-bearer, followed at a distance by two cloaked men on drab horses, a golden figure on a white horse, looking at this distance like some glittering insect. The clippety-clop of the hooves and a repeated cough float up to us faintly.

25 INT. WOLSEY’S STUDY

WOLSEY and MORE look down. WOLSEY very tense.

WOLSEY The King.

MORE Yes.

WOLSEY:
Where has he been? D’you know?

MORE:
I, Your Grace?

WOLSEY:
Oh spare me your discretion. He’s been to play in the muck again. (brutally) He’s been to Miss Boleyn.

26 EXT. HAMPTON SECOND COURTYARD NIGHT

MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT The KING rides under the further archway. His face is satiated, softened, his body moves passively to the motion of his horse. He lifts from his chest a locket miniature and looks at it.

CLOSE SHOT the miniature. A young woman.

The KING smiles a smile of tender sensuality, satisfied satyr, softly letting the locket fall back on his broad chest. As he passes under the further arch, another trumpet sounds.

27 INT. WOLSEY’S STUDY

WOLSEY leaves the window and sinks into his chair. Fear has made him dangerous.

WOLSEY:
More, are you going to help me?

MORE:
(starts to answer. Stops) If Your Grace will be specific.

WOLSEY:
Ach! You’re a plodder! All right, we’ll plod. The King wants a son. What are you going to do about it?

MORE:
I’m very sure the King needs no advice from me on what to do about it.

WOLSEY:
(quietly) Thomas, we’re alone. I give you my word, there’s no-one here.

MORE:
(reassuring, faintly shocked) I didn’t suppose there was Your Grace.

WOLSEY:
(deliberately loud) Oh.... ! Do you favour a change of dynasty, Sir Thomas? D’you think two Tudors are sufficient?

MORE’s pose deserts him. He starts up, looking about almost wildly.

MORE:
For God’s sake, Your Grace—!

2t INT. CROMWELL’S ANTE-ROOM

CROMWELL, listening at the door jamb, hands behind his back, head bowed in thought, smiles to himself, a smile of simple amusement. We hear:

WOLSEY:
(off) Then he needs a son. I repeat, what are you going to do about it?

29 INT. WOLSEY’S OFFICE

MORE has recovered. Is now gravely straightforward. Steadily:

MORE:
I pray for it daily.

WOLSEY:
(peering at him) God’s death, he means it ... That thing out there—at least. she’s fertile, Thomas.

MORE:
But she’s not his wife.

WOLSEY:
No Catherine’s his wife: and she’s barren as a brick. Are you going to pray for a miracle?

MORE:
There are precedents.

WOLSEY:
(controls himself—with an effort. Rises) Yes. All right. Good. Pray. Pray by all means. But in addition to Prayer there is effort. My effort’s to secure a divorce. Have I your support or have I not?

MORE:
(sits) The Pope gave a dispensation so that the Ring might marry his brother’s widow, for state reasons. Now we are to ask the Pope to— dispense with his dispensation, also for state reasons?

WOLSEY:
I don’t like plodding, Thomas. Well?

MORE:
Then clearly all we have to do is approach His Holiness and ask him.

WOLSEY:
I think we might influence the decision of His Holiness.

MORE:
By argument?

WOLSEY:
Argument certainly. (bursting out) And—pressure!

MORE:
Pressure applied through the Church, church houses, church property.

WOLSEY:
Pressure.

MORE:
No, Your Grace, I’m not going to help you.

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