01x04 - Episode 4

Episode transcripts for the show "The New Pope". Aired: January 2019 to February 2020.*
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The New Pope is an upcoming drama television follow-up series from The Young Pope, originally announced as its second season.
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01x04 - Episode 4

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- Beautiful baby, your nephew.

- Thank you, Holy Father.

Appreciate that.

Sorry, I brought a gift for you.

A painting that I did.

- Interesting, thank you.

- You're welcome.

So You look a bit older, and it might just be the beard.

I have had a beard since I was 31.

I remember that amazing speech you gave in Venice, but I don't remember you having a beard, then.

That was Pius XIII.

- So who are you?

- I'm John Paul III.

Forgive me Holy Father.

You gotta understand, I've been in the studio holed up for months and I don't really keep track of the news so What helps?

Potassium phosphate mixed with a capsule of Xabol.

So you're quite the pharmaceutical adventurer.

- So you are not Pius XIII?

- No, I'm the new pope.

May I asked what happened to the old pope?

He is in coma and he had a successor, Francis II, and he d*ed.

Have you gone to visit him?

- Who?

- The pope in a coma.

No, not yet.

Maybe you should.

THE NEW POPE Episode 4 What is it?

What is it?

That makes us feel so good together?

What is it?

What is it?

This great emotion?

God who tells you I have loved you And he's happy if he has shown it.

Many, far too many members of the clergy believe that love is an infinite meadow and they are allowed to pick all the flowers they want.

But they are not picking flowers, they are ripping plants from the earth and assuring by their actions that in the scorched and barren soil they've defiled, nothing more will ever grow.

This is what our Church risks becoming.

The world wants to see pedophile priests hanged.

But Jesus would not want this.

Jesus is civility and the Church can not, must not abandon her children, especially if they are ill.

But if they are ill, she must distance them from the heart of the ecclesiastical life forever.

Forever.

I know it sounds trite, but seeing you surrounded by all these men, makes me swell with pride.

Is that what we're calling it now?

Pride?

Your Holiness, when you have a minute, I would like to show you something.

A gift, from me to you, Your Holiness.

They told me you only love Bentleys.

So, this is the way the real world works.

Yes, this is how it works.

I hope that you are not offended, Your Holiness.

It's only a welcome gift.

One that expects nothing in return.

What could I possibly give in return, Eminence?

I am only a primus inter pares.

To be concrete, you need to make appointments.

I am never concrete.

Do you remember when we slept in the same room after the seminary?

What happy memories.

We were young then.

All I remember about my youth is my brother Adam.

Do you still sleep with that silver box next to your bed?

Actually you're right, of course, we did sleep in the same room, I recall you had an endless stream of young visitors, day and night, no?

If you allow me, Holy Father, I'd be happy to inform you sometime of certain habits inside the Vatican.

I very much allow you, Eminence.

Do it now, do tell, straight away, I'm curious.

In the Vatican, the choice is between blackmail and benevolence.

I always prefer the second option.

Don't you?

I never answer important questions in the evening, Eminence.

Especially after three glasses of champagne.

SECRETARIAT OF STATE Don't make me uncomfortable, get up.

What's happening today?

Please accept my resignation, Eminence.

Cut the bullshit!

Who's Lisette?

She's a nun who wanted to confer with you, together with the abbess from the convent of St.

Therese.

I did not consider it necessary to ask you.

Right, I do not deal with minor matters, only with high, ethereal, supernatural power.

From the ethereal to the mire is a short step.

- Napoleon?

- No, me.

As they couldn't confer with you, the nuns have gone on strike.

- They've occupied the Sistine Chapel.

- Jesus, you should have told me!

Since I've been in charge there's never been a strike!

What do those wretched women want?

- It's a trifling matter.

- Couldn't you have dealt with it?

I thought I had with the usual wall of indifference, but I was wrong.

Let me speak to this abbess.

- What does she want from me?

- 200 euros.

Matter resolved.

A quid pro quo in the chain of command.

- May I swear?

- Just once.

Like f*ck it is!

The matter is not resolved at all.

Reverend Mother, Don Cavallo informed me that you had requested 200 euro, in order to take Lisette's mother to Lourdes.

And I have just given you 200 euro.

What we want now is not what we wanted before.

Our requests have changed.

You don't understand.

I understand everything, but you need to be more clear.

We sisters have joined together, and we now understand the difference between charity and rights.

- I am all ears.

- We demand respect.

Social, moral, and economic recognition for the duties we sisters perform.

We want to be welcomed into the bosom of the Church, to be granted a more active ministry, including administering the sacraments.

And, in general, we expect the male clergy to adopt a psychologically mature attitude in its relations with us female members.

Please clarify this last point for me.

Do you need me to elaborate on the sort of things your brothers are capable of?

Not now, I don't have time.

But a detailed, written account would prove most useful.

- That you shall have.

- No!

You won't.

It's a trap, Reverend Mother.

We will be dismissed as tattlers, and he will have a record of all his accomplices' depravities, the better to blackmail them with.

Spectacular, the talent!

This will be a long w*r, though it will end as they all do: with my victory.

But you, Sister Lisette, will make a formidable adversary.

You can bet on that.

- Now what are you doing?

- I'm dismissing you.

Then we will carry on with our strike.

Fine.

And we priests will learn how to cook, and wash, and iron our robes; it's about time.

Be careful, Sister Lisette.

Your rights are one thing, the rites of the Church are another.

The former are negotiable, for they belong to man, but the latter are not, for they belong to God.

That's better.

You haven't joined your sisters' protest?

No.

Me, no.

Why not?

Because I decided to believe in you.

What are your sisters asking for?

Respect.

Don't you need respect?

I have always had it.

I work with popes.

Are you mad at me?

I couldn't.

You're just a Sunday morning Christian.

What does that mean?

Ready to do good only if you don't have to get your hands dirty.

You're like those philanthropists who think they'll go to heaven if they give away a tiny fraction of their dirty money.

- You are being unfair.

I tried.

- No, you didn't try, Ester.

You just deluded some people who are truly suffering.

When will I see you again?

Happy birthday to you!

I need the convent of St.

Therese to be monitored, with particular focus on Sister Lisette.

Here I am, Holy Father.

Forgive me for being a little late, but the Napoli coach's press conference dragged on and on.

Brevity of speech is not his strong point.

You Voiello have the great gift of informing me of things that would not interesting me even if I were you.

So, what is this about the nuns occupying the Sistine Chapel?

Every six months or so, the sisters remember that somewhere, in some parallel universe, they, too, could say mass.

But don't worry, I have the situation under control.

Don't be too hard on them, Voiello.

The proper amount, that way they will not be too hard on me.

Marilyn Manson doesn't know who I am.

Marilyn Manson doesn't know who he is.

The Church I have in mind must be better at informing people.

Every Marilyn in the world should know reflexively who the pope is.

This is not vanity, this is necessity.

As for them knowing who they are, there's always time for that.

Emory Kitsworth wants to interview you.

An in-depth, wide-ranging conversation.

Exclusive coverage on the Times web site, live, then rebroadcast, an hour later, on every TV channel in the world.

So, now every Marilyn in the world will know you.

An appealing idea.

I have another one.

I wish to pay a visit to Pius XIII.

- Dutiful.

- Dangerous.

To have two popes, Pius XIII and John Paul III, together in one photograph, wouldn't do much to clear up the confusion.

That photograph will never be taken.

My visit to Pius XIII will be private.

My face will only be seen in public on my way to and from the hospital.

In storytelling, that is called "powerful deference".

My admiration for well-read women will never fade.

Perhaps that's why I don't miss Megan.

Is there any possibility he could wake up?

Based on the knowledge we have now, no.

No possibility.

His hand was so warm!

I found that comforting.

He is still alive, even though he doesn't know it.

In Venice, my authority did not turn into authoritativeness.

If I may, Your Holiness, it is actually the opposite.

Your authoritativeness did not turn into authority.

- What should I have done?

- Never mingle with idolaters.

Had you asked my advice, that is what I would have told you.

What do you think, Sofia?

You cannot please everyone, Holy Father.

If I do not please, I cannot seduce.

If I do not seduce, I cannot influence.

If I do not influence, I repent.

- Of what?

- Of everything.

- Do I please you?

- Immensely.

May I ask you an indiscreet question?

I will never tell you what the woman whispered in my ear, Eminence.

Appointments!

Our dear Sofia, reconfirmed as Director of Communications.

The masterful Voiello, reconfirmed as Secretary of State.

Gutierrez will be my advisor.

And now, an innovation!

My new personal secretary, in charge of creativity: the most eminent Cardinal Spalletta.

- What would you have me to do?

- Everything I do not wish to do.

Which I can assure you, will be rather a lot.

In terms of creativity, what do you propose Spalletta?

I would commission Christo to make a gigantic contemporary cross, to be exhibited in Saint Peter's square.

A classic extemporary operation, Holy Father, and also quite costly.

Nor is it devoid of the age, old stench of corruption.

So not a good idea.

Spalletta?

A momentous diplomatic visit to North Korea?

That's already been done.

I would be the second and I have been playing second fiddle my whole life.

So not a good idea, Spalletta.

A smashing success, Spalletta.

And now I will instruct my personal secretary in private.

- Disappointed?

- No.

Not in the least, Holy Father.

I won't deny that I had aspired to become Secretary of State, but personal secretary allows me to work closely with you, which is what really matters.

I am only thinking of your own good, Holy Father, for your good coincides with the good of the Church.

So, Francis II's death.

What do you make of it?

Did he really die of natural causes?

Do you really want to know what I think?

Probably not.

Voiello probably had a hand in it.

So we share the same suspicion.

What do you say we look into it?

Just to keep us from getting bored, and to keep me from meeting the same fate.

May I offer you some impartial advice, Holy Father?

Of course.

I would let it drop.

I will not deny my longstanding antipathy for Voiello, yet I feel I must warn you that making enquiries about him would mean setting yourself against him, which is the last thing you want to do here in the Vatican.

- Even the walls know that.

- What makes him so dangerous?

No one really knows.

But the fact is, every time someone tries to oppose him, he has ended up in pieces.

Literally.

Literally.

Voiello is helped by the Lord, Holy Father.

But what is difficult to understand is: who is this lord?

Is he divine?

Or is he Human?

Power and mortal sin are the same thing, Girolamo.

I've always known that.

The others arrive all bright and dewy-eyed and delude themselves they can break this indissoluble bond.

It's a bond that God has established, without telling anyone.

I've seen so many who've tried, they've all gone out of fashion.

Only I never go out of fashion, like Kinder chocolate bars.

What do you think about this Napoli lineup?

In terms of their acquisitions strategy they could have done more.

Don't you think?

But we'll see.

John!

Sir John, what did that woman in Venice say to you?

How did you prevent the nuns' strike from leaking to the press?

Four well-placed surveillance cameras, a discreet stills camera and someone tailing them have yielded interesting results.

Sister Judith and Sister Angela engage in sexual relations, with fetishistic perversions.

Sister Melanie is a kleptomaniac, Sister Valeria, Sister Hasanati, Sister Penelope harass and sexually abuse young Sister Ivanka.

Young Sister Caterina meets up in a gardener's shed to kiss a boy.

The abbess is worried about something she has under a breast, she doesn't sleep at night.

Sister Lisette is the protest leader and uses social media to mobilize nuns outside.

For now that is all.

I'm learning so much from this silence of yours So very much.

Good day, sisters.

You wanted to see me?

Actually, we wanted to see you five hours ago.

Forgive me for having kept you waiting.

The consequences of the strike.

Everything is moving more slowly now.

So, what can I do for you?


- To start: fix the wi-fi.

- If only I could!

But the server is down, that happens occasionally, and a nun usually repairs it, but that nun is currently on strike.

Are you saying we have to suspend our strike if we want internet?

It would seem that I am.

Why don't you call in an outside technician?

Because here in the Vatican, we don't like waste, and because we can live just fine without wi-fi.

We are the oldest institution in the world, Sister Lisette, not the Apple campus.

Reverend Mother, you seem tired.

So am I.

I'm not sleeping well.

Are you?

Try this.

Chamomile.

It helps, I've found.

If we suspend our strike, what will you give us in exchange?

Wi-fi.

And our other demands, what about them?

I will bring them to the Holy Father's attention.

As I do with every request that comes across my desk.

Do not overestimate my power, Sister Lisette.

I am merely a paper pusher.

We would like to meet with the Holy Father ourselves.

- To explain our position.

- A sacrosanct right.

You merely need to file an official request to see him.

- Filed with whom?

- With me.

Don't touch them.

They're for God.

I am confused.

What exactly is the purpose for this meeting, which you have defined as both urgent and highly confidential?

We are repealing the "eight per thousand" law.

The tax the Italian people pay to maintain the clergy.

This is a declaration of w*r on the Church.

No, it is a necessary step toward saving the Italian people.

How?

Our finances are in incredible disarray.

The EU won't grant us any relief.

A surmountable problem.

I will talk with the EU.

We were elected on the basis of a clear and simple platform: to do away with privilege.

Which is exactly what we have done.

We put the Church at the bottom of the list, but now your time is up.

I see.

So, the issue is not my confusion but your conviction.

- I take that as a compliment.

- Take it as a thr*at.

Your conviction conveys a distinct lack of respect for the only thing that matters to us here in the Vatican.

- And what is that?

- Mystery.

If they go through it, it will be the end of us.

The Church will be poor.

What do you advise we do, Holy Father?

Nothing.

As the great Cardinal Newman used to say: "Christian virtues are poetic.

Gentleness and grace, compassion, joy, and modesty.

Where is common, coarse sentiments are rhetorical tools.

Anger and indignation, emulation, a combative spirit, the love of independence.

" We must fly high.

We should hold on to the poetry, and leave the rhetoric to others.

Holy Father, with all due respect, I am afraid that Newman may not be enough.

What a shame, Eminence.

What a shame!

The world once again confirms it has no use for poetry.

But I am not the world.

That is not me.

You are back.

Yes Ester, I came back.

To test your righteousness.

It's a bluff, election propaganda.

You may frighten the Pope, who is a holy man, but not me.

If you repeal the "eight per thousand" tax law, you'll make a paltry billion euro for your coffers.

What can you develop with that?

Nothing.

In exchange you'll alienate Catholics.

What's this really about?

Should I be afraid?

How often have I played this game I'd show the folder and on it I'd write: private life of Cardinal They'd be panic-stricken and do whatever I wanted.

Sometimes, I didn't put anything in the folder, or I put 50 copies of the Napoli game schedule.

- I'm listening.

- No more backroom deals.

Politics have changed, the only one who hasn't noticed is you.

You keep putting forward procedures that are old, obsolete and dishonest.

- Are you telling me I'm old?

- I wouldn't dream of it.

I'm simply saying that you're outdated.

I should have stayed home, to loll about my own house, rather having to loll about in someone else's.

This is your house.

And I will make it more comfortable for you.

Listen: I can convince the Minister of the Economy to delay the measure.

Delay it until the government falls, but which point we will be safe.

Holy Father, the eight per thousand is not the only source of the money Guicciardini needs.

- It can be found elsewhere.

- Where?

In our own backyard: we have our own financial organization.

Which is free and easy: I gather?

See, Holy Father, you can be concrete when you want to be.

Don't alter my nature.

It might k*ll me.

So give me a free hand.

I will continue to deal with the stench of the body.

And you with the perfume of the spirit.

An admirable poetic utterance, Eminence.

What must I do?

Tomas Altbruck's.

Sofia Dubois' husband.

Appoint him head of our financial organization.

It would appear we are outdated, my dear.

You and I are the same, we're prehistoric.

Thank you, Holy Father, for receiving me at this late hour.

I shall always have time for you, Gutierrez.

You are dear to my heart.

I am ready to hear your confession.

Freddie was dressed nicely tonight.

When we were in the hallway, he took out his keys.

And, with the calmness of youth, he opened the door to his room.

But first he turned and looked at me Once inside, he knew what to do.

I didn't, though.

His confidence excited me.

He got undressed in front of the mirror He wasn't looking at me.

But he knew I was looking at him.

His back.

His bare back It was too much.

I could barely bring myself to look at it, it excited me so But at the same time, I wanted more.

And it was as if there was a wall between us.

But it wasn't an obstacle, that wall.

- Please, that's enough.

- Yes, enough.

Holy Father, enough.

Freddie satisfied my body.

God satisfies my spirit.

So why do I always feel so empty?

But you are not alone, my friend.

That is all I can say to you.

This constant sense of feeling inadequate Makes us constantly nervous.

I know.

I absolve you of all your sins.

But now you will have to hear my confession.

In order to stroke my pride, soothe my insecurities, satisfy my vanity, and salvage my limping papacy, I have taken the first step in the everlasting garden of sin.

And coward that I am, I pretend not to see, not to understand, not to know.

But I do see, I do understand.

I know
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