The Devils Page #2

He stinks of sanctimonious whores.

Enough, sir. You slander my daughter.

- He's inside the house, Mr Magistrate.

- He's upstairs, inside the house.

There he is!

Despoiler of my child, my innocent lamb!

Even the most innocent lamb is destined

for the lustful ram, Monsieur Trincant.

Her lily-white purity is stained!

Except in sermons, or in Heaven.

Even lilies decay into rottenness, sir.

Catch!

I'll see you in Hell!

Walking on a living pavement

of aborted bastards, no doubt.

You foul, God-forsaken creature!

He ought to be reported to the Pope.

He ought to be prosecuted as well,

Mr Magistrate.

My cousin tells me

his daughter is pregnant.

Well, you have your whores.

Why do you have to meddle with her?.

- It seemed a way.

- A way to what?.

I begin to understand at last

that all worldly things

have a single purpose

for a man of my kind.

Power, politics, riches,

women, pride, ambition.

I choose them with the same care

that your cousin,

Monsieur Trincant,

might select a weapon.

My intention is different.

You see,

I need to turn them against myself.

And bring about your own end?.

I have a great need

to be united with God.

You're a blasphemy to your cloth.

I attend Mass daily. I love God.

And now that both my parents are dead,

I am free to serve Him.

I know I have a vocation,

Reverend Mother.

You have the face of a virgin martyr

in a picture book.

Very pious.

Respectful black weeds. Very becoming.

That's such a pretty rosary.

- It was my mother's.

- What's this?.

Oh, yes, The Imitation of Christ.

Solid silver.

And downcast eyes.

Hiding what?. Virtue or lechery?.

So you have one sin, at least.

The sin of pride.

Do you know why most of us are here?.

Because you love Our Lord, Jesus Christ

and wish to serve Him.

Most of the nuns here are noble women

who have embraced the monastic life

because there was not enough money

at home to provide them with dowries.

Or they were unmarriageable

because ugly, a burden to the family.

Communities which ought to be furnaces

where souls are forever on fire

with the love of God are merely dead

with the grey ashes of convenience.

Here is a book written by the founder

of our order, Angela Merici.

When you've studied it,

come back and I shall question you.

Thank you, Mother.

God bless you.

I'm not surprised

that Angela Merici's book

of sanctimonious claptrap confused you.

Most religions believe

that by crying "Lord! Lord!"

often enough they can contrive

to enter the kingdom of Heaven.

A flock of trained parrots could

just as readily cry the same thing

with just as little chance of success.

You can do more good outside

the cloister than you can within.

Among the Ursulines or the Carmelites,

you'll be hiding your light

under a bushel.

Your place is here, in Loudun.

And your vocation

to give a shining example of wisdom

to all those foolish virgins

whose thoughts dwell

on perishable vanities.

And now I must take confession.

Yes, Father, thank you.

Father, I have sinned.

And I have come to ask your forgiveness.

When did you last confess, my child?.

You should know!

This is a church. Not a marketplace.

- You will speak with respect.

- But you did love me, I mean I know.

I mean, all those hours we spent

together in each other's arms...

That's enough!

You will not wallow complacently

in your own filth!

What about yours?. What about your sins?.

To confess is to seek forgiveness,

not to blame others. Be quiet there!

Oh, what shall I do?.

Your humiliation is nothing.

If God wants you to suffer,

then you should want to suffer.

And accept that suffering gladly.

Go now.

Do not sin again.

And for your penance,

fast for the rest of the day,

on your knees, in front of God,

praying for His forgiveness.

I absolve thee from thy sins.

Amen.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

- When did you last confess, child?.

- A week ago, Father.

What have you to tell me?.

I have suffered from pride.

We must always be on guard.

I worked all of yesterday

and all of the night

nursing the victims of the plague

and I was pleased with myself.

God allows us satisfaction

in the work that we do.

I have also been guilty of anger.

Tell me.

Well, Sister Jeanne of the Angels

provoked me and I wished her elsewhere.

You are absolved.

Is there anything else?.

Quickly, others are waiting.

I've had unclean thoughts.

Of what nature?.

About a man.

- What is his name?.

- l...

I think of him in the early hours

of the morning.

My bedroom is suffocatingly hot.

My thoughts are sinful,

yet they are so tender.

My body, Father...

My body, I wish to be touched.

Do you try to get these thoughts

out of your mind?.

- Or do you like them?.

- I have prayed.

Do you wish to be saved from this?.

- Answer.

- No.

I wish to take... possess...

Destroy me, I love you... him.

I love him.

In the convent, I would have been safe.

I love you.

Go to my house.

Wait for me there.

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

But you were here only yesterday.

Yes, Father,

but since then I have been guilty of...

guilty of... What was it now?.

If you have forgotten,

perhaps God has also.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

pray for me, a sinner.

Now and always, Amen.

Hail Mary, full of grace,

the Lord is with thee.

Blessed are you among all women,

blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,

pray for me, a sinner.

I want to tell you.

Yes?.

You know the love-making?.

Yes.

I want to tell you, Madeleine,

that amongst the clothes dropped

on the floor

and the groping

and the sweating

and the soiled sheets,

amongst all that

there is some love.

Human love?.

You understand it that way?.

I think so.

Do I love you?.

I think so.

Then what else can I give you?.

I am a simple person.

I see the world as I have been taught.

I am a sinner, but I do not think

that God has deserted me.

I would not be afraid to come

before Him with you, even in our sin.

You shame me.

Go.

I've hurt you.

I've hurt you. Forgive me.

Go!

Oh, God, help me.

I love this woman.

Let us find a way to you together.

The fifth sorrowful mystery

of the rosary,

Christ crucified.

As we say these Aves, Sisters,

Let us think of the pain

that Christ suffered

when they nailed him to the cross,

Left Him to hang there

until he was dead.

Think of His most beautiful body,

torn by the nails,

the blood oozing over his hands,

which twitched with every hammer blow.

And He suffered all this for love.

For love.

Forgive us our sins!

Forgive us our sins!

Marriage?. Marriage is a law of nature.

And therefore, a law of God.

I don't question whether marriage

is a natural and holy thing,

but whether it is a right and proper

thing that a priest might marry.

If you care to read every law

in the New Testament,

you won't find anywhere

that it's forbidden to marry.

In fact, marriage is exalted so high

it becomes a sacrament, doesn't it?.

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