The bishop Augustine sits at the end of dinner with his friend Flaccus, a public administrator. There are other guests, including Bishop Tarminius-one of the bishops who frowned in Scene 45.
FLACCUS: (while a slave proffers a dish) Perhaps an apple, my lord bishop?
AUGUSTINE: (shuddering) Ah no, Flaccus my friend. If you only knew what part apples have played in my life-
TARMINIUS: And one apple in the life of all mankind.
AUGUSTINE: (looking at him for an instant, then nodding gravely) Yes, Tarminius, very true. But oh, the moonwashed apples of wonder in the neighbour orchard. I did not steal the apples because I needed them-indeed, my father's apples were far better, sweeter, rosier. I stole them because I wished to steal. To sin. It was my sin I loved, God help me.
FLACCUS: Aye, it is in all of us. Baptism is but a token of extinguishing the fire-
AUGUSTINE: Burning burning burning burning-
FLACCUS: But Christ paid, atoned, still makes the impact of our daily sin on the godhead less acute.
AUGUSTINE: Beware of theology, Flaccus. These deep matters have driven mad many a young brain.
TARMINIUS: You speak very true, Augustine. There is a man from Britain in our midst-didst know that?
AUGUSTINE: There are many from Britain in our midst-that misty northern island where the damp clogs men's brains. They are harmless enough. They blink in our southern light. They go down with the sun. (laughter)
TARMINIUS: I refer to one, Augustine, who seems not to be harmless, whose gaze is very steady, who is impervious to sunstroke. His name is Pelagius.
FLACCUS: (frowning) Pelagius? That is not a British name.
TARMINIUS: His true name is Morgan, which, in their tongue, means man of the sea. Pelagius, in Greek, means exactly the-
AUGUSTINE: (testily) Yes yes, Tarminius. I think we all know what it means. Hm. I have heard a little about this man-a wandering friar, is he not? He has been exhorting the people to be kind to their wives and asses and warning of the dangers of gluttony. Also, I understand-
(he looks sternly at Tarminius, who looks sheepish rather than shepherdish)
Fornication. I see no harm in such simple homiletic teaching. They are a puritanical lot, our brothers of the north.
TARMINIUS: But, Augustine, he is doing more. He is denying Original Sin, the redemptive virtues of God's grace, even, it would seem, our salvation in Christ. He seems to be saying-that man does not need help from heaven. That man can better himself by his own efforts alone. That the City of God can be realised as the City of Man.
AUGUSTINE: (astounded) But-this-is-heresy! Oh my God-the poor lost British soul-
There is a sudden spurt of flame which ruddies the scene. All look to its source. The camera whip-pans to the spit, where flames are fierce. A toothless scullion grins, touching a forelock in apology.
SCULLION: Sorry, my lords, sir, gentlemen. A bit of fat in the fire.
Augustine, Tarminius, Flaccus look very grim.
AUGUSTINE: Fat in the fire, indeed.
Pelagius is talking gently and wisely to a group of poor men, artisans, layabouts, who all listen attentively. A pretty girl named Atricia sits at his feet and looks up in worship.
PELAGIUS: In my land the weather is always gentle, rather misty, never lacking rain. The earth is fertile, and by our own efforts we are able to bring forth fair crops. The sheep munch good fat grass. There are no devilish droughts, there is no searing sun. It is no land for praying in panic-not like the arid Africa of our friend the Bishop Augustine.
ATRICIA: Oh, how I should love to see it. Could one be happy there without fear, without constant fear?
PELAGIUS: Fear of what, my dear child?
ATRICIA: Fear of having to suffer for one's happiness?
PELAGIUS: Ah yes, Atricia. In Britain we have no vision of hellfire-nor do we need to invoke heaven to make life's torments bearable. It is a gentle easy land, it is a kind of heaven in itself.
A LAYABOUT: But you said something about making a heaven there. And now you say it is a heaven already.
PELAGIUS: A kind of heaven I said, friend. We have many advantages. But we are not so foolish as to think we are living in the garden of Eden. No, our paradise is still to be built-a paradise of fair cities, of beauty and reason. We are free to cooperate with our neighbours, which is another way of saying to be good. No sense of inherited sin holds us in hopeless sloth.
ATRICIA: I can see it now-that misty island of romance. Oh, I should so love to breathe its air, smell its soil-
PELAGIUS: And why should you not, my dear? What the heart of man conceives may ever be realised. I was just saying the other day-
There is a noise of entering feet. They all look up. They are obscured somewhat by the gross shadow of those entering.
A VOICE (OS): Is your name Pelagius?
PELAGIUS: Why, yes-
Two gross authoritative men in imperial uniform stand in the way of the sunlight. They look sternly at the assembly.
FIRST MAN: You are to come with us. At once.
She clings to him in fear. He comforts her with a patting hand.
PELAGIUS: (smiling) You appear to be men of authority. It would be useless for me to ask why or where.
The two authoritative men look at him in burly contempt.
SECOND MAN: Quite quite useless.
52. INTERIOR DAY A CONVOCATION OF BISHOPS
Augustine speaks while the camera pans along a line of grave bishops. Pelagius is out of shot.
AUGUSTINE: Quite quite useless to deny that you have been spreading heresy.
Pelagius is sitting on a kind of creepystool, humble and tranquil during his episcopal investigation.
PELAGIUS: I do not deny that I have been spreading gospel, but that it is heresy I do most emphatically deny.
A number of beetle-browed bishops beetle at him.
AUGUSTINE (OS): Heresy-heresy-heresy.
Augustine strides up and down the line of bishops while he speaks. His mitre frequently goes awry with the passion of his utterance, but he straightens it ever and anon.
AUGUSTINE: Yes, sir. You deny that man was born in evil and lives in evil. That he needs God's grace before he may be good. The very cornerstone of our faith is original sin. That is doctrine.
The bishops nod vigorously.
BISHOPS: Originalsinriginalsinrignlsn.
He gets up lithely from his creepystool.