A Man for All Seasons Page #5

CUT:

45 EXT. LONG SHOT ABBEY DAY

Beneath a flying Winter sky, two HORSEMEN ride the horizon of a snow flecked moorland landscape. CAMERA PANS to bring on frame an isolated little Abbey. Wind on SOUND continuous: 46 INT. ABBEY CELL

WOLSEY’s great chain on the same red silk. But now we find the gown is thrown at the foot of a bed. And WOLSEY in the bed is a changed man, at death’s very door. The room is small and plainly whitewashed, having one small gothic window. Two MONKS in cassocks and the dying man himself look apprehensively towards the door at the sound of heavy footsteps. It crashes open. A young officer in sodden travelling clothes announces: OFFICER

The Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marshal of England!

30

NORFOLK:
follows. In furs and leather he looks barbaric. He doesn’t like his present job; he doesn’t like WOLSEY. He takes two steps towards the bed, his face set. WOLSEY gestures feebly to the chain. NORFOLK slings it over one arm. Clears his throat, not looking at WOLSEY. NORFOLK

Have you any message for His Majesty?

WOLSEY shakes his head. NORFOLK turns, but at the door.

WOLSEY If—

NORFOLK:
turns, reluctantly.

If I had served my God one half so well as I have served my King, God would: not have left me, to die in this place. NORFOLK hates it.

NORFOLK:

Thank God that you’re dying here Your Grace. The King would have you to die in the Tower. NORFOLK turns.

MONKS horrified. WOLSEY falls back. On SOUND door shuts, footsteps recede. CUT 47 INT. WESTMINSTER HALL

Fanfare. CLOSE SHOT The chain held by NORFOLK, .in ceremonial dress. Continuous pull-away reveals MORE in his best gown, surrounding courtiers and officials. MORE turns, formally to face the assembly. PULL-AWAY draws up and up, SHOOTING down the tall columns of a State Hall (Westminster) upon the little group, the important flock of witnesses while NORFOLK: NORFOLK

(reading)

I am straightly charged by the King Himself here openly to declare how much all England 31

NORFOLK:
(Cont)

is beholden to this man and how worthy he is to have the highest room in the realm, and how dearly the King’s Grace doth love and trust him! Not only for much good council delivered in council, but for better council yet, the which is privy to the King’s person, and this same Sir Thomas More, here made before you all to be—Lord Chancellor of the realm! Fanfare and CLOSE SHOT. The chain descends on MORE’s shoulders. DISSOLVE 48 EXT. RIVER

Fanfare modulating to gay, light, frivolous music. The screen a blaze of golden light, the sun on water. Out of this effulgence swims the Royal Barge. In the stern, the King in holiday mood, dressed in cloth-of-gold, surrounded by COURTIERS. The MUSICIANS in an escorting barge. A third barge with quietly dressed OFFICIALS. 49 EXT. MORE’S GARDEN & STEPS

MORE, wearing the Chancellor’s chain, waits in his garden, the music reaching us faintly. STEWARD jumps down from river wall, nodding and gulping, too overcome to speak. MORE

Calm yourself, Matthew; fetch Lady Alice.

The music nearer. An anonymous shout: “God Save His Majesty’!” STEWARD Oh Jesus!

And runs.

50 EXT. RIVER MUD FLAT

The Royal Barge has grounded, the KING already standing, the other. barges gliding in on either side. The KING alights. His golden feet sink in the mud. A moment of surprise. COURTIERS pause, hesitant. Then the KING laughs. They alight after him, laughing. The sun flashes round them, turning the mud to gold. 32

eb’ 51 INT. MORE’S HOUSE GREAT HALL

In the Hall of MORE’s house, ALICE anxiously watches the face of NORFOLK who is inspecting a long table set with the excessive creations of a Tudor banquet, the SERVANTS, tense and nervous, who line the walls. MARGARET too is anxious. NORFOLK grunts. NORFOLK That’s very well.

STEWARD arrives breathless in the door and calls without ceremony: STEWARD My lady! The King!

NORFOLK:
nods, leads off, all hurrying.

52 EXT. RIVER MUD-FLAT

The golden feet of the KING stride athleticalL1 up the hardway, the black mud glinting. COURTIERS follow. 53 EXT. MORE’S GARDEN & STEPS

NORFOLK:
, ALICE, MARGARET fetch up a bit breathlessly by MORE. He takes his wife’s arm, pats it reassuringly. MARGARET stands by NORFOLK. MORE

(lets go her arm)

Now remember, the visit’s a surprise.

ALICE nods, but then common sense bursting through:

ALICE:

But he’ll know we’re expecting him when he sees all that—! MORE

Oh Kings can absorb a little inconsistency.

Then seeing that she is genuinely puzzled how to behave, seriously and revealing his own deep pleasure in it: It’s a very great honour. One friend calling on another you see. MARGARET and NORFOLK, side by side like soldiers on parade, looking ahead (the KING must be near now, though hidden below the wall). 33

MARGARET What is he really coming for?

NORFOLK:

To talk about the Divorce. He wants an answer.

MARGARET looks at him.

MARGARET He’s had his answer!

NORFOLK:
He wants another.

ON SOUND:

KING (on SOUND) Thomas!

MORE squints. With him we see:

The KING on the wall by chance or design stands in the eye of the sun and seems transparent like a flame. Th&y all sink down.

MORE:

Your Majesty does my house more honour than I fear my household will bear. The KING steps down and becomes visible.

KING:

No ceremony Thomas, no ceremony! A

passing fancy—

(he raises him)

I happened to be on the river.

(holds out shoe, proudly)

Look, mud ... By Heaven, what an evening!

Lady Alice, I fear we came upon you unexpectedly.

ALICE:

(shocked)

Oh no Your Grace—that is yes, Your Grace but we are ready to entertain Your Grace. She is flustered. The KING doesn’t like people to be flustered when he’s feeling informal. He grunts, nods, fiddling at the locket round his neck, MORE comes in expertly. 34

MORE:

This is my daughter Margaret, sire, she has not had the honour to meet Your Grace. MARGARET curtseys low. He looks her over, approves.

KING:

Why Margaret; they told me you were a scholar.

She looks confusedly to her father.

MORE Answer, Margaret.

MARGARET:

Among women I pass for one Your Grace.

ALICE and NORFOLK exchange satisfied glances.

KING:

Antiquone modo Latina loqueris an Oxoniensi?

MARGARET e Quem me docuit pater, Domine.

KING:

Bene. Optimus est. Graecamne linguam quoque to docuit?

MARGARET:

Graecam me docuit non pater meus sed mei patris amicus, Johannes Coletus, Sancti Pauli Decanus. In literis Graecis tamen, non minus quam Latinis, ars magistri minuitur discipuli stultitia. During this last, CLOSE SHOT the KING. Her Latin is better than his; he is not altogether pleased. KING Ho ...

He walks away. Unseen by any, MARGARET mistakenly begins to rise from her curtsey. MORE puts his hand on her head and gently presses her down again, so that she is ready again when. KING Can you dance too?

MARGARET Not well, Your Grace.

35

KING:

Well I dance superlatively!

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