To your health! My dear Margaret! Will you marry me? I’m afraid you didn’t hear
my request. I heard it perfectly,
my friend… and I thank you for it. Forgive my laughter.
It was a stupid defensive reflex. It’s a mistake, Carlo. I will never marry again. I owe Benedict’s father
that last fidelity. You need no further excuse
than the horror I inspire in you. Oh, no! But I am too aware
to share your blindness. Probably because
I often play “gods” on stage… I dared to think
I could be a man. Forgive me, both of you. It’s impossible. I cannot. Come, Benedict. You’re tearing me apart,
Carlo. Sometimes, to protect love,
we must crush our feelings. To hell with those rats! I am so tired. I am so tired! Too much pride. Don’t despise your Work, Maestro. Who let you in? Don’t resist. Follow the thread of my voice,
like a musical progression. I only want to talk. – Where did you get that?
– It doesn’t matter. I came to offer you this Music. How dare you? I’ll sing it for you. Sing it for me? It’s time we made peace. We both had the Mystery
revealed to us. Music belongs to me
just as it belongs to you. What Music? Good enough to squeeze cheap tears
from females who swoon over your voice? Is that how you presume
to move me? With your Music, I will. Because of you,
and to save this Theater… I exhaust myself composing works
unworthy of my talent. You’re causing my Music
to deviate from its course. I’ll never forgive you
for that, Farinelli. A Castrato’s voice is an example
of nature abused… rerouted from its goal,
in order to deceive. You’ve subverted your voice
to virtuosity without soul… devoted only to artifice! Let it stay there! Give me back my score. You know, Maestro… some people say
that my singing… has power over people. Don’t turn my voice
into an instrument of death. You don’t frighten me. Everyone knows that Farinelli
promotes his own legend. Keep on splitting their ears… with stupid Operas
full of idiotic characters! Is that him? Yes, it is. You see, Carlo? I’m happy.
My body doesn’t refuse to grow. Are you in pain, child? It’s not really pain. Just a feeling
of utter fragility. Like a snail
without its shell. Alexandra has
the world’s softest hands. But I won’t share them
with anyone else. Delightful!
Quick, cover it up. We’re helpless, Alexandra. But one thing is certain. You love me, don’t you? Where is my score? Where does your brother hide
the opera he stole from me? Tell me… and I’ll leave you in peace,
like a rat in your attic. Thieves! You’ve stolen my brother
from me, Maestro. Your Music… separated us more
than any ocean could have. Who composed this? Play it. Go ahead! Neither excessive… nor unnecessary flourishes. It doesn’t seem like you. This is an entreaty. The harmony should be changed. Take this supplication
into the dominant. Move over! Move over! After the major third… repeat the theme
up a fourth. Your brother is a monster. Play! Go ahead! This is weak. Not enough violence!
Wait. Expand the chord… and dare a chromatic move
to D-flat. Not bad. Not bad at all! Who does he think he is?
God? He’s destroying you… and wants to destroy me, too. Bring me the rest. Some ink, pens, wine. What are you waiting for? When did you plan
to finish it? When did you start this? When? The day when… The day my brother
was castrated. That day, I promised him… it would be… our joint Masterpiece. You’ll never finish this Opera…
Never! You no longer have any reason
to finish it. He doesn’t need you anymore. It is you who needs him. You’ve been deprived
of your instrument, Signor Broschi. You’re like Narcissus
without his reflection. Like Orpheo without his Lire You’re right, Maestro. Without him…your Music
no longer exists. Without him… you are nothing but silence… At 17… I composed my first melody. I wrote it for Carlo. You may be the only one
who can understand, Maestro… His voice… His voice was… sublime… And my music flowed
from my brother’s throat. When did he fall off that horse? When Father died… Carlo became seriously ill. My father had entrusted him to me. He was delirious. I was afraid of losing him. I soothed him
with some opium… and by telling him the story
of an Opera… that I invented day after day
to help him dream. He loved to sing, Maestro. He loved to sing. His face… His face was transfigured
when he sang. That angelic voice
had to be preserved. It had to be done quickly. Opium eventually wears off. His voice had to be kept
from being ruined… by the repulsive alchemy… that time inflicts
on the body. La Music unified us, Maestro… closer than lovers. Do you realize
the scandal we will create? A Händel’s Opera performed
at the Nobles Theater! It’s unheard of!.
Incredible! How could I have let
all this happen? Finally, Farinelli… what rendered us enemies
for so many years… will be resolved tonight. It’s time to settle our account
before God. Do you remember the Opera… that your brother promised you
when you were boys? Do you remember, Farinelli,
with what emotion he spoke of it? Did you ever ask yourself… whether it was to soothe
the pain of your castration… or to still
his howling conscience? It’s time you faced the truth… that has haunted you
since childhood. Why do you refuse to hear
what you’ve known all along? It’s to this brother
who had you castrated… that you dedicated
all your talent. And to perpetuate
this brotherly pact… you spat in the face of Händel. You managed to turn me
into what you’ve always been. You castrated… my imagination. Starting now, I’ll never compose
another opera again. Never again! You are the first to know… and the only one to blame. Ask God for the strength
to continue… and to sing, without wavering,
the music you stole from me… Farinelli… Carlo, come on! Carlo! Come outside! Let’s see you, Carlo! You’ve no right to reject me! I’ve looked for you for three years!
Come out! I’ve looked for you everywhere! Carlo! Carlo! Answer me! You’re a Broschi, Carlo,
just like me! You can’t have forgotten.
That’s impossible! Carlo, come on! Our Opera! I’ve finished it!
Carlo, I’ve finished it! I composed it for you!
”Orpheo”! ”Orpheo”! Here it is!
Come on, Carlo! Carlo, come out! Do something. I know you’re there,
Alexandra! Don’t take him away from me! Don’t take him away from me! Do you want to kill me? Is that what you want? Without me, you’d be nothing. I created you. Farinelli! I created you! Castrato! Castrato! Castrato! Carlo, please!
He’ll go crazy! Tell him you love him. Go ahead. Go. I can’t. Your brother needs you,
and so do I. I need you, too.
Do you hear me? I sacrificed everything
for this love. I know it’s senseless… but I love you. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you. Three years, Carlo! Three years! I knew it was you. It’s very beautiful. Really? You really think so? It’s your most beautiful composition! It’s what I always waited for. We could work on it together. Perform ”Orpheo”
here in Madrid. Everyone will love it
if you sing it. Your brother no longer sings,
Riccardo… except for the King. And maybe for you? It’s strange. There’s something in your face
when you suffer… that’s poignantly reminiscent
of your brother. That must be why
I can’t really hate you. Do you know how much I’ve suffered,
writing our Opera? You’re telling me
about suffering, Riccardo? You? Can’t you see, I’m asking
for your forgiveness? Haven’t I atoned for enough? I don’t think so.
Never enough! Is the Earth simply a tomb? Bring back the sun, Farinelli. Riccardo! Riccardo! My beloved brother. It is without much hope
that I’ll search in distant lands… amidst the clashes of war… for emotions as intense… as those I derived from Music. At this moment, Carlo… with my heart heavy
from leaving you… I’m giving you back
what I had taken from you. Your share of Humanity. I’ve burned our Opera. That Music and the past… are irrelevant today. But what I am leaving
with you, Carlo… is that not also… ourjoint creation?