The Song of Bernadette Page #13

Once it was a dull

but pleasing little village.

Now look at it. A tremendous sponge...

...sopping up the infection of the world.

- Good morning, Monsieur Jones.

JONES:
Morning, Dr. Dozous.

- Gentlemen.

- Good day, monsieur.

- You look better today.

Yes, doctor, I think I feel much better

today, thank you.

[COUGHS]

Monsieur Jones' voice

has a lot in common...

...with Monsieur Dutour's.

Don't you think?

Yes, now that you mention it.

Monsieur Jones has cancer of the larynx.

[SINGING]

PRIEST:
Holy Mary.

ALL:
Pray for us.

PRIEST:
Mother of God.

- Pray for us.

- Holy Virgin of virgins.

- Pray for us.

- Mother of Christ.

- Pray for us.

- Mother of divine grace.

- Pray for us.

PRIEST:

Mother most pure.

DUTOUR:

I am a stranger here.

I am not like

these thousands of souls...

...flickering brightly and hopefully

in the darkness.

My pride has always stood

between them and me.

The pride of being

a superior human being.

But now I know that we are all

a wretched, animal species...

...distinguished from the insects only

by nerve centers and false reasoning.

A hungry cancer is feeding

at my throat.

Tomorrow, I'll crawl back

to Languedoc...

...hide in some hole of death

and be heard of no more.

I'll be alone, alone and desolate.

And why not? It's logical.

I'll be alone

because I have loved no one...

...no one and nothing,

not even myself.

Nothing.

Nothing.

PRIEST:
Queen of Apostles.

ALL:
Pray for us.

- Queen of Martyrs.

- Pray for us.

PRIEST:

Queen of All Saints.

Pray for me, Bernadette.

- Your Reverence.

- My child.

I didn't lie to you.

God knows you didn't.

They questioned me...

...again and again.

I saw her.

Tell them I saw her.

They won't believe me.

Yes, my little one. You saw her.

And you will see her again.

I'm not so sure.

Maybe I haven't suffered enough.

You've suffered enough, my child,

for the heaven of heavens.

No.

I know about sick people.

We all exaggerate a little.

Our pains aren't so terrible.

I believe...

Sister.

Sister.

Are the pains worse?

What day is this?

Wednesday.

Wednesday?

Tomorrow...

Tomorrow will be Thursday.

The lady...

Madame...

Madame...

Madame...

The lady won't come here,

Your Reverence.

I'll never see her again.

You will, my child.

No.

No, I was stupid and lazy.

I didn't even know

what the Holy Trinity was.

Where are you, madame?

Where are you?

She's gone.

PRIEST:

Behold, my beloved, speaketh to me.

Arise, make haste, my love, my dove,

my beautiful one.

I won't see her.

PRIEST:

For winter is now past...

I'll never see her again.

Divine flowers

yield their sweet smell...

Never...

Never...

I'll never see...

Let thy voice sound in my ears,

for thy voice is sweet.

I love you.

I love you.

NUNS:
Hail Mary, full of grace,

the Lord is with thee.

Holy Mary, mother of God...

...pray for me.

Pray for us sinners,

now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.

You are now in heaven and on earth.

Your life begins, O Bernadette.

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