The Prisoner Page #2

you're wrong-headed.

In time, we'll get to the root of

the trouble, and you can be cured.

- You believe it?

- Yes, I do believe it.

God give me cunning...

...against your skill.

God keep my watch.

Medical examination.

- Good morning.

- And no talking to the doctor.

The pulse, fairly regular.

A little flutter, there's nothing

to be alarmed about.

It's caused by the natural

human impulse of fear.

You often find it among cases

under threat of torture...

...physical or mental...

...and, of course, death.

Lungs quite all right.

Nothing to worry about there.

Continuous confinement is not usually

recommended, of course.

The heart's very sound.

Yes, very sound indeed.

I hope.

You're not supposed to talk

to the doctor.

But I know him. He used to work

in the free orthopaedic clinic.

You were doing fine work there,

doctor.

I know.

Things happen to us.

Doctor?

Tell me, have you examined

the interrogator?

Because if I'm in for a long session,

so is he.

Come in.

- Good morning, general.

- Good morning.

- Well?

- Well.

I was in an interrogation

when you sent for me.

- At 9 in the morning?

- It started at 2 a.m.

Resistance is at its lowest

about that time.

Resistance would appear

to be still pretty high.

You've had him for nearly three

months without any result.

I'm not criticizing your methods.

They've been successful

in the past.

But I must know how long

they're going to take.

But I've told you, general,

it's impossible to say.

In this case, we're dealing...

...with a particularly brilliant

and subtle mind.

His spirit was proved indestructible

by the Gestapo in the war.

Your progress reports

tell me nothing.

I'm prepared to report that

I am wasting hours, days, weeks...

...finding out what we can't

use against him.

But I'm probing his mind for the one

weakness that we can use.

To find that out, I've got to become

his doctor, his confessor.

I've had to get to know him better

than I know myself.

One casual phrase, one tiny slip

may give us a clue.

Very well.

But remember this:

We took a very grave risk

in arresting him.

There's unrest throughout

the country over it.

The press keeps asking

why there's no trial.

We cannot afford to fail

with the cardinal.

I shan't fail, general.

You've had a hard life.

A hard life, the aristocrat

to the priest.

Before dawn in the fish market

at the age of 9.

But warm in school by 9:00

with the fat fruits of my scholarship.

Did your clothes smell of fish?

Heavens, that it should rile me still.

"Cod guts and mackerel blood, look.

There are squashed fish eyes

sticking to his boots."

Dear little boys.

I used to go to the fish market

with just my overalls on over my skin.

Even when the snow

was up to our ankles.

And I bought every brand of soap

I saw advertised.

I took the skin off my hands

with disinfectant.

And then, "Sir, must I sit next to him?

He stinks of fish."

Happy school days.

- Blast you, you flaming little pest.

- General.

"School days," after weeks wasted.

You've no fixed date for the trial.

- This is a difficult case.

- I can see that.

The time has come

for other methods.

General, that's the stuff

that martyrs are made of.

The only chink we'll find

in that armour is in the mind.

- I shan't give you much longer to try.

- Supposing you could break him...

...would a confession

from a broken body...

...do you much good

in an open court?

We've got to have a confession...

...if it has to be from a corpse.

What is the policy of the Vatican

towards our government?

Thank you.

Very refreshing.

What were we talking about?

Oh, yes.

I meant to ask you...

I see here that you never

took up a scholarship...

...you won to the university at a

fantastically early age. Why was that?

I had a vocation to the priesthood.

And you found that out suddenly

between sitting for the scholarship...

...and winning it?

- No, I had always known it.

I had tried to evade it.

Why?

That's an odd question

for a layman, surely.

I didn't think I was worthy.

So you won the scholarship...

...and then suddenly overnight...

...found you were worthy

of the priesthood after all?

No.

I found that, for me,

I had to be a priest.

That and the next step and the next.

All my life, shirk nothing,

duck nothing...

...overcome everything.

You sound tired...

...and afraid of yourself...

...not of us.

Why?

Why?

Please, I'm asking for the last time.

No.

Your husband got out of the country

with no permit, he can't come back.

You know that you can't

get out of here.

I know I can't.

But that doesn't mean I have

to be unfaithful to him.

- You've not even heard from him.

- That doesn't mean he hasn't written.

Why do you see me at all?

It's always "no" in the end.

Because I'm an ordinary human being.

Look, can't you understand?

I like to go out sometimes

and talk and dance.

Please, we've always been friends.

You've got lots of girlfriends.

No, wait. I'm sorry I said that.

Shut up in that infernal prison all day

watching what goes on...

...you'll get so that you say things.

Come on.

Let's dance.

Let's enjoy ourselves, please.

- You're making progress, you know?

- I'm sorry you should think so.

No, it's just that we're getting

to know one another better.

Tell me about your first curacy.

St. Nicholas, wasn't it?

That was a working-class district

I used to know well.

Rowdy political parties

when I was a student.

Very progressive and matey we felt.

But I could never get the ring...

...of conviction in my voice

on those platforms.

Nor I in that pulpit.

Ashamed of preaching to the hungry,

"Thou shalt not steal."

But, well, presumably that was a text

that you practiced yourself.

Why do you say that?

What makes you say that?

- Well, does it matter?

- No.

When did you steal?

Before I became a priest...

...but not long before.

I was very young in that pulpit.

What did you steal, soap?

Books.

Books for those scholarship exams.

Books and paper and pencils.

I used to look down into

those faces below the pulpit...

...women mostly.

Women who weren't stealing...

...the things their men

and their children needed.

- Yes, but you needed the books.

- Ambition.

Not need.

- Besides, I...

- Besides?

I always took the best.

The thick, shiny paper...

...and the pencils out of

the sixpenny tray.

But surely you confessed

all that off your conscience...

...before you became a priest.

- Oh, yes.

Besides, I found there was no need

to look into their faces.

You could look between.

- Do you never look into their eyes?

- Now?

Always.

One must learn to do these things.

The mall past the capitol.

Secret meetings, slogans.

Propaganda being distributed.

This unrestful development rising.

Send out a general call to all district

headquarters in central command...

...to alert troops to reinforce

the patrol duties.

Orders to fire over their heads?

Orders to disperse them.

Full discretion.

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