The Resolute Heart: The Saint John Fisher Screenplay
INT. ROCHESTER'S STUDY - DAY
Sunlight, thick with dancing dust motes, streams into a
venerable study. JOHN FISHER 60s, Bishop of Rochester, sits
at a large wooden desk. His clerical robes are simple, yet
of fine quality. His gnarled hands, bearing the marks of age
and study, trace the vellum pages of an ancient text. The
room is a sanctuary, lined with towering bookshelves,
religious artifacts glinting in the light. The air is still,
pregnant with devotion and intellect.
A distant bell tolls, its resonance a steady beat marking
the passage of time and the unwavering rhythm of Fisher's
life. He pauses, his brow furrowed in concentration, then
slowly turns a page.
FISHER
...and the Word was made flesh, and dwelt
among us...
He closes his eyes, a flicker of a smile gracing his lips,
then opens them, his gaze sharp and focused as he returns to
his reading.
FADE OUT.
INT. GREAT HALL - DAY
The Great Hall of Greenwich Palace is a spectacle of
opulence. Sunlight streams through arched windows,
illuminating a throng of courtiers, their silks and velvets
a riot of color. Amidst the buzz of conversations and the
clinking of goblets, KING HENRY VIII, late 20s, a force of
nature in rich velvet and ermine, strides purposefully. He
is undeniably regal, his presence commanding.
Henry spots JOHN FISHER, Bishop of Rochester, standing
slightly apart from the main throng. He claps Fisher
heartily on the shoulder, a gesture of familiar camaraderie
that draws surprised glances.
HENRY VIII
Ah, Bishop Just the man I was seeking. Still
poring over your books, I imagine?
Fisher turns, a practiced, composed smile on his face. He
inclines his head respectfully, his gaze steady.
FISHER Your Majesty.
Always ready to serve.
HENRY VIII
Serve, yes, but also to advise This matter of
the French alliance... it weighs on my mind.
3.
Their king is a slippery eel, and our
counselors offer only conflicting tides. What
say you, wise Bishop? Your counsel has never
failed me.
Henry leans in, his tone conspiratorial, his eyes bright
with anticipation. Fisher considers the King, the gilded
tapestries of royal triumphs behind him a silent testament
to Henry's ambition.
FISHER
Your Majesty, alliances are like a house built
on sand if the foundation is not prayer and
righteous intent. France may offer much, but
at what spiritual cost?
Fisher's words are calm, measured, a quiet counterpoint to
Henry's boisterous energy. Henry chuckles, a deep, rumbling
sound.
HENRY VIII
Spiritual cost, eh? Always the voice of God's
own vicar. Yet, a king must be pragmatic.
Still, your point is noted, Bishop. Your
words, as always, are a stone in the turbulent
waters of my thoughts.
FADE TO BLACK.
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