A Man for All Seasons Page #5

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.

WOLSEY:
(grim) Then good-night, Master More.

MORE rises, watched by WOLSEY. Neither man wants this.

WOLSEY:
Let the dynasty die with Henry the Eighth and we’ll have dynastic wars again! Blood-witted barons like your mindless friend the Duke of Norfolk ramping the country from end to end—is that what you want? (He controls himself.) Very well, then England needs an heir. Certain measures, perhaps regrettable, perhaps not—there is much in the Church which needs Reformation, Thomas—

MORE smiles at the transparently “responsible” tone.

WOLSEY:
All right, regrettable! But necessary, to get us an heir. Now ... explain how you, as a Councillor of England, can obstruct these measures for the sake of your own, private, conscience.

MORE:
Well... I believe,. when statesmen forsake their own private conscience for the sake of their public duties... they lead their country by a short route to chaos. (to take the curse of priggishness from what he’s said) And we shall have my prayers to fall back on.

WOLSEY:
(curious: passion spent) You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To govern the country by prayers?

MORE:
Yes I should.

WOLSEY:
I’d like to be there when you try. (he sits heavily) Who will wear this—

CLOSE SHOT, the Chancellor’s chain.

WOLSEY:
—after me? Mm? Who’s our next Chancellor? You? Fisher? Suffolk?

MORE:
Fisher for me.

WOLSEY:
(dry) Aye, but for the King? What about my Secretary, Master Cromwell?

MORE:
Cromwell!

He looks Involuntarily towards the curtained doorway. Recovers. 15

MORE:
He’s a very able man. But—

WOLSEY:
But?

30 INT. CROMWELL’S ANTE-ROOM

CROMWELL, still listening, does not change his expression.

MORE:
Me rather than Cromwell.

31 INT. WOLSEY’S STUDY

WOLSEY:
Then come down to earth... Until you do... (returns his attention to the papers) You and I are enemies.

MORE:
(absorbs this dangerous news) As Your—Grace wishes. (goes)

WOLSEY:
As God wills.

MORE:
Perhaps, Your Grace.

He has reached the door when:

WOLSEY:
More!

MORE turns at the curtain.

WOLSEY:
You should have been... a cleric!

MORE:
Like yourself, Your Grace?

WOLSEY’s pen falters, he turns; but MORE has gone, into:

32 INT. CROMWELL’S ANTE-ROOM

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