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FADE UP ON:
RAVENS in stripped trees. Frost clings to hedges, and low fog
lies on the November fields of France. A season of mud and
Sustain the image of smoking fields and then (with the sound
of PICK AND SPADE...)
EXT. A CROSSRAODS. DAWN
OPEN CLOSE on the most medieval face you’ve ever seen: a
pale, injured, vengeful face, capable of a routine mask of
out part of a frozen worm from a winter apple. We are at an
INTERSECTION of two lanes of near-frozen mud in HEDGEROW
Two GRAVEDIGGERS, a cold PRIEST, a BODY, At a CROSSROADS
overlooked by a Celtic cross.
ON SOUND, as the Priest contemplates his meal (He wants
better and is sure he deserves it) we hear...the PICK AND
SPADE at work, digging the grave at the EXACT CENTER of the
I am Francois, to my dismay
(the SPADE digs into the
nearly frozen ground)
Conceived and born in the usual
Son of man, yet by the way/ not of
him my mother say...
(beyond cold in thin and
Shut up and dig.
Chewing his apple he stares at: A SMALL BODY, wrapped in
something like burlap. Where the wrapping is parted we see a
pitiful WHITE FACE and OPEN EYES upon which snowflakes fall.
A rope-scarred neck. A WOMAN: A SUICIDE.
A SILVER CRUCIFIX around her neck.
The PRIEST, eyeing the crucifix, is for a moment unable to
eat his apple. Then he eats.
The GRAVEDIGGERS are in rags, dirty, coughing. The
GRAVEDIGGER is cleverer than his condition, watching for his
opportunity in life long after he should have stopped
looking. His right ear is mutilated.
Denied the cross for suicide, the
suicide is then buried at the
center of a cross.
(leans on his pick, like a
Show me the logic.
(a noticeable beat)
The Devil is a practical man. If
this be a witch there was poor
return on his investments.
What would you know of Logic?
(the rising, and
vindictive, Common Man)
I have ears, Father. Though one is
notched because I love justice.
(thieving, he puts the
dead woman’s CRUCIFIX
around his own neck.)
The GRAVEDIGGER (a man who will come into his own, has vowed
When I was young and so the world/I
was as pretty as a girl/I am now a
man of gravitas/With a double chin
and giant arse...
The PRIEST suddenly (as RAVENS erupt from trees beyond a
frozen field) looks in the direction away from the sunrise.
(at the GRAVEDIGGERS,
ceasing to dig, also
(softly, querulously, and
as if there’s an
opportunity in it)
Straightens his clothes. Medievally speaking, th eboss is
A PART OF MOUNTED KNIGHTS AND MEN-AT-ARMS come along the
road. They are cloaked, cowled. The colors of their clothes
are the only color in the day. The KNIGHTS ride mares, but
ready-saddled DESTRIERS are led behind the party, which also
is accompanied by a CART. A SQUIRE rides before, in rich,
dirty velvet (the livery of IBELIN.) The SQUIRE, who has a
cold, and is none too happy at the French weather, comes up
on a mudd palfrey, and looks at the gravediggers, the body. A
suicide being buried at a crossroads? Normal. The PRIEST bows
(flatly, no conceit)
Clear the road.
As the sound of horses draw nearer the PRIEST and the
GRAVEDIGGERS back out of the road and bow, giving the road
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"The Kingdom of Heaven" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2017. Web. 18 Aug. 2017. <http://www.scripts.com/script/the_kingdom_of_heaven_482>.