All language subtitles for Il.Boemo.2022.ITALIAN.1080p.WEBRip.x264-VXT.eng

But that's not enough.

I'll be back here again in a week.

I'm very sorry, Maestro.

ROME 1781

I also have this.

I can give you ten ducats.

Is that all it's worth?

I'll give you 12.
But only because it's you.

VENICE 1765

Wonderful.

You've really improved since last time.

Your music is so beautiful.

I'm sorry for butchering it.

I'll never play it exactly right.

It's easy for you.

You were born with a violin in your hands.

No.

My father didn't want us to be musicians.

Neither I nor my brother.

Take it…

from here.

So you have a brother?

A twin brother.

Is he as tall as you?

Yes.

Is everyone as tall in your country?

Women, too?

Just us two.

From the beginning, please.

What a pleasure to see you.

You are so beautiful tonight.

"Who - knows."

In the heavens.

I want to hear "the heavens" clearly.

It's not a problem,
you really speak very good Italian.

You're very talented.
You're already an amazing composer.

Recitative is hard for all foreigners.

Heaven's justice
can return again to Earth.

I want the world to find out

that he is a traitor.

It's wonderful.

Graceful. Singers will like that a lot.
Every singer is unique.

You have to use
their virtues and shortcomings

to foster the best in each of them

and not lose them
because of technical difficulties.

But I think that only a voice
that nears the impossible,

the incredible,

can personify a goddess, a god,

someone more than human,

the most passionate emotions.

But be careful. Don't play with fire.

Signor Werner, excuse me.

About the rent…

I'm sincerely embarrassed.

Mr. Myslivecek, you're an educated,
polite and honest man.

You shouldn't live like this.

Dedicate yourself to commerce.
You would be rich and respected.

Are you expecting someone?

Josef.

Good day.

I want to thank you for your lessons.

Come listen to La Gabrielli with me.
The whole of Venice is talking about her.

-Tonight?
-Yes.

My father is invited elsewhere,
so our opera box is free.

With pleasure.

Father?

Good evening, Mr. Rezzi.

I couldn't resist
your father's invitation.

But don't worry, I won't stay long.

I'm still in mourning.

-I'll be leaving, gentlemen.
-No. Stay with us.

May he, Father?

Of course.

Thank you for the chance
to listen to La Gabrielli.

May I?

What a harlot, but such divine talent.

To think that the whole Venetian Republic
drools over such worthless women.

My God, please.

I ask of You this.

Give me the life of a musician.

Dear Lord, help me achieve my aim.

I will celebrate You with my music.

Excellent.

Only…

At times it's better
to make small mistakes

and let your emotions speak.

Fear of mistakes leads to stiffness.

Think only of playing with your heart.

This morning I went to look
at a nice flat near San Marco.

It would be just right for you.

You could give yourself fully to your art.

That is very kind of you.

I think I couldn't afford it.

I don't pay much where I live.

-Good evening, Giuseppe.
-Good evening.

Are you comfortable here?

Yes.

I don't know how to thank you.

I'll pay everything back.

As soon as I can.

Do you like it?

Yes, very much.

I have a dream, too.

I'd like to write a libretto.

I know. I'm a woman.

Can you imagine us
writing an opera together?

I'd write the libretto
and you'd help find the words.

I have to ask you for something.

Please, Giuseppe. It cannot wait.

Tell me.

I'm in your debt.

You know they want to marry me to
the old widow you met at the opera?

Falier, the nobleman.

Just because he's very rich
and his cousin is the doge.

I'll never give him my innocence.

Excuse me.

What does "battibecco" mean?

It means a skirmish.

A type of quarrel.

-Oh. A brawl.
-That's right.

Good evening, Masquerader. Care to join?

Good evening, Masqueraders.

It would be my pleasure, but I don't play.

Are you serious?

Good evening.

Those ladies over there. Look at
the way they walk and their attitude.

So graceful. Gorgeous.
Nobility, I'm sure.

And see those two over there?
You can have both for a few coins.

Sir… please follow me.

Here you are.

You're in Venice
and you didn't come to pay me a visit?

Are you hiding from me?

Are you having doubts?
Or fear? Perhaps you feel guilty?

Come on.

Excuse me, sir!

I'm mortified.

I'm sorry. It's my fault.

Melchior, you ass. Where's your head?

I can't believe this.

Accompany this gentleman back.

I just got here and now I must leave?

May I have the honour of knowing
who I was mistaken for?

You're very indiscreet.

Is that a German quality?

-You are German, aren't you?
-Not quite.

But you're right. I am a foreigner.

I'm a musician
and I would like to live and work here.

You have very noble hands.

Intelligent.

Do you have a lover?

Yes.

Rich? Beautiful?

Not as much as you.

How old is she?

My God.

What am I going to do with you?

I admit I don't know how to decide.

What do I know? I'll see.

From a young age, they teach us
to be wary of reason.

But I always thought that
what separates a truth from a lie,

is just a veil.
In order to preserve the lie,

it was necessary to believe everything
the priests preached to keep us obedient.

So I got married.

I never loved him.

Then I met a man who taught me to think

and live.

I tore down the veil.

Only then did I start to
deeply love God and life.

I cannot stop your wedding.

Of course you could.

If only you wanted to.

My father would surrender to my will
if only you really wanted me.

Because I would be rejected forever
by my father and society.

But if you loved me, their opinion
would mean nothing to me.

I could face them all.
Be proud of us, proud of me.

We'd just need to wait
until you become famous.

Please.

Don't leave me.

Love me.

Nobody will ever love you as I do.

I know that I can make you happy.
I'll give you everything.

Well, here he is! Giuseppe Mislicece.

Mysliveček.

I'm sorry. I always
butcher your name, dear friend.

Don't worry. It's impossible to pronounce.

He's a very talented musician.

Let me introduce our brilliant impresario.
Orfeo Crispi.

As you know he is
a great figure of our music life.

Signor Crispi…

I would have preferred to
shake your hand first.

Il Parnaso Confuso.

It's by Metastasio. Brand new.

Maestro Gluck had it sung in Vienna
for the children of the empress.

It's an small opera, a simple serenade.

I wrote this version as practice.

What brought you to Venice?

The desire to study
under Maestro Pescetti.

-Do you know him?
-Of course. I really appreciate him.

I heard his Ezio
in the Italian theatre in Prague.

A great thrill.

I wanted to study under him, so I came.

So you left the theatre and hopped
on the first carriage to Venice.

No, I still had to serve
in the last war against Prussia.

To defend Prague, my city.

A terrible experience.

His city besieged, bombarded by cannons.
A real bloodbath.

A thousand times he risked his life.
It was awful, isn't that right?

Have you ever seen people dying?

Violent deaths?

Guts spilling, brains splattered.

The body of a child without a head?

Here a leg, there an arm, a dog eating it?

No. This is not my world.

You chose well.
Pescetti is an excellent musician.

He has written many lovely pieces.

He has inspired
many young Venetian artists.

Just as he took over
many from his predecessors.

Now, you're next in line.

Does Pescetti know this opera?

He gave me a lot of advice.

So you certainly don't need mine.

Let's have a look at it.

I've got a visitor.

I need to talk to him in private
over an urgent matter.

Stay here.

Come see me again soon.

Gentlemen, excuse me.
I need to step away for a moment.

What urgent matter is it?
Where are you going?

It doesn't concern you.

Besides, you're being very rude.

You left Crispi there alone.

I introduce you to a famous impresario
and you act like this?

Have you gone mad?

Your jealousy does not amuse me,
dear musician.

If you want to see me again,
you must befriend those I love.

If you cannot,
write me one word: Goodbye.

Maestro Crispi studied your music.
He thanks you for your trust.

-And so?
-That's all.

Tell him I would be happy to serve him
as a violinist or harpsichordist

if there is an occasion.

Think of me. I will be thankful.

For you, everything seems easy.

But I am in dire straits.

I need to sign at least
one contract, otherwise…

It will be the end…

death.

Talk to me about life.

What troubles you, friend?

Tell me.

Why this sadness?

I believed in a fate I cannot have.

It's been so long
since I last wrote a bar of music.

Marriage is my only option.

Seriously?

Good evening.

Count!

We've missed your spirit here.

Venice was drowning
in boredom without you.

I must find my spirit again.
It left me on the journey.

I arrived half-dead.

-Did you like it in Naples?
-Ah, Naples I loved.

But as soon as I got to Venice,
I received a letter with bad news.

I have to work day and night.
What torment.

I'm as exhausted as Jesus
arriving in Golgotha.

Our poor ambassador. I'm sorry for you.

Don't mock me, dear friend.

I adore suffering for the common good.

Our friend Giuseppe
is also willing to make divine music,

sacrificing life and pleasures.

He is an outstanding musician.
He's written several beautiful pieces.

Count Finocchietti is the guardian of
our Venetian music in Naples.

He has done so much
for our culture abroad.

Where have your pieces been played?

Nowhere, sir.

Unfortunately not.

I know his work well. Promising.

Be patient, young man.

I haven't forgotten about you.

Remember I am not immortal.

Really? I thought you were.

I read an opera he wrote as practice.

A truly commendable piece of work.

We'll dine together soon, dear friend.

I'd like to look at your music.

I'll bring it to you.
I'll wait for your notes.

You'll like it, I am certain.

He's very talented,
unfortunately nobody knows it yet.

The poor fool still has hope.

Should I talk to her?

Don't compromise yourself.

She'll make a scandal.

Keep away from her.

Didn't I tell you to burn your bridges?

What a tremendous actress!

In front of all Venice.

I forbid you to go.

Please.

You must not be seen involved in this.

Stay. Don't move.

Pray she dies
and takes her secret with her.

If she doesn't die, she'll talk.

Or she'll talk and then die.

Or she'll be forever an invalid.

You're in danger, my friend.

Your friends are right.

You have great talent.

I would be unhappy to see
you killed by her furious suitor, Falier.

Or locked up in prison.

Every cloud has a silver lining.

The composer of the next opera in Naples
can't meet his engagement.

There are many names on the list,
but I can move yours to the top.

I believe you are capable
of fulfilling such a task.

If we are successful, and I believe we
will be, you will write for La Gabrielli.

If she likes you, she'll open a path
for you to theatres and courts.

Don't let this blessing
slip through your fingers.

That's not necessary.

The king will soon reach majority.

The first opera of his rule can be yours.

You couldn't ask for more.

I must warn you.
His Highness is simpleminded.

His parents rule in Spain.
He grew up alone.

Always playing on the street.

His ministers want him to be
stupid, ignorant and lazy.

Like the people themselves.

Study a few successful Neapolitan operas.

NAPLES 1767

I must be dreaming. Get out!

Out!

You bother me with gifts I don't need!

One sends me a bird that squawks all day.
The other idiot this slobbering dog.

You all want to kill me!

You want me to die!

And you? You brought me this?

Are you all allied against me?

I made a mistake.

I didn't want to waste your time.
I just sent you your part.

But it's actually lovely a duet
for voice and horn.

It's very delightful.

Oh, it's very delightful?

Yes.

And so you know
what is delightful and I don't?

Excuse me?

You know better than I what's delightful?

Yes.

No.

I don't know.

If anyone understands
the rules of music and poetry, it is I.

I thought I knew your tessitura.

To serve you as best I could.

I heard you in Venice.
I've studied many of your arias.

We can certainly change what you want.

When you cut this fruit,
nothing surprises you.

May I?

You've always known it.

But I am from the North. It surprised me.

You see? I couldn't believe it.

A hard green fruit
that hides such a sweet red pulp!

It's the same with our aria.

You can't judge it
if you don't know its whole.

Nothing's happening.

Yes. No…

Very well.

Let's continue.

Dear friend…

Well. Let 's continue.

These bars are too difficult.
I'll change them, alright?

They're difficult but I will manage.

I don't want to risk anything.

No, I'll play it right.
With the help of the saints.

It'll be a triumph.

You'll be rich and admired.

I know a good composer
when I see one. I'm never mistaken.

-Maestro, the musicians are ready.
-I'm coming.

But we must change the horn player.

He made another mistake in rehearsal.

Nobody's complained about him before.

His wife is seriously ill.
She's dying. I can't kick him out.

He'll succeed in the end.

-Do what he tells you!
-Caterina, it won't change anything.

In two hours, I want to have
two or three excellent horn players.

Very well, but the next one
might be worse.

I don't understand.
How can he be so reckless?

I don't know. He should understand.
He's an amazing musician.

-He was a famous castrato here in Naples.
-I know.

It was a tragedy for Naples
when he lost his voice.

He started this job and does it well.

If you only knew where he comes from.

A forgotten village in Campania.

He had a dreadful childhood.

Dreadful.

If they hadn't cut off his balls, he'd
still be milking and fucking his goat.

You can't imagine how vile
and ignorant our countryside is.

Excuse me Signora, the Duke Montecenti.

-I will go.
-No. Stay here, Giuseppe.

This monument of insolence knows
that I don't care for him.

He doesn't have a fraction
of your sense of beauty.

Request that the evening goes well.
Put your hand on it.

Maestro, it's in the name of Christ,

the Virgin Mary, St. Januarius
and all saints.

Ask for help and good fortune.

With their help,
we will reap great success.

The greedy slut!

I'm going to kill her,

-Nothing?
-Damn her.

I will burn her like charcoal,

that stinky face.

She must've had a quarrel with someone
and she's made a scandal.

Curse her ancestors!

At last.

I'm sorry. I can cry.

But not sing. I can't.

Stop playing Magdalena up on a cross!

Shut up, ugly Eunuch.

That noble parasite
treats me like a servant.

Do they think I'm afraid of prison?

When all I desire is to die?

I've already been to prison.

In Palermo.

When I ruined Il Demofonte…

But I sang for the prisoners.

So beautifully and so loud
that they ran to free me.

Before that, they loved me in Palermo.
Now they worship me.

There's nothing noble about them.

I know their Christian mercy well.

Their secret vices.

They tainted me as a young girl.

Bastards.

Hypocrites.

They think I'm the best singer in the
world because God gave me a voice.

But I have this.

I have this,
but they don't want to see it.

For them…

…a singer is just a whore

…gifted with some talent.

-But it's not like that.
-That's why you have to go on stage.

Show them they're nothing
compared to you.

The king is coming.

Damn the king!

Seek revenge on stage.

What are you saying?

I can't stand you. Go away.

Both of you!

I'll never sing again! Never!

Enough! I haven't got time for this!

Costume, makeup and go sing!

-Where are you going?
-To see La Gabrielli.

Skip that idiot's aria.
Play the next part.

-No, it's the most beautiful aria.
-She won't do it. Go back to your place.

-You hear? It's over.
-Please, come.

Please.

I cannot do it.

That was perfect.

Maestro. That was music. Bravo.

I'm Carlo Fracassati, I live in Bologne.

I am part of the committee of
our municipal theatre.

I would be delighted if you could
conduct an opera in our theatre.

With La Gabrielli, obviously.

-Are you familiar with our theatre?
-Certainly…

Congratulations.

It's a magnificent theatre.
It was opened just 4 year ago.

By the great architect Bibiena.
Surely you know him.

We opened with The Triumph of Clelia
by Sir Gluck.

We have also welcomed
Piccini, Bianchi, Topollini.

I was enraptured by the orchestration
and cantabile of your arias.

Are you a musician too?

A bit. Not as good as I'd like.

She's very modest. She's a great musician.

She's my sister, Anna.
She lives here in Naples.

Bravo, Maestro. Bravo.

A masterful work. Lovely, really.

It was a beautiful evening.

Are you enjoying yourself in Naples?
Do you like the city?

Yes, very much. Thank you.

Naples will be faithful to you.
After tonight's success, I'm sure of it.

But I'd like to see you in Bologna.

Shall we?

Maestro.

Goodbye, Maestro.

Goodbye.

You like the young baroness.

Forget her.

Last year her husband killed a man
who found her attractive.

See who you're dealing with?

But… Bravo!

I'm sure you're the first conductor
who slapped her.

Congratulations.

You know in our culture we don't slap.

We take a knife to disobedient girls.

Usually it is her who beats men.

You know she whipped
the Duke of Tuscany?

She used to call him a cursed hunchback.

Madly in love, he would give her the whip
and call out: Beat me, my love! Beat me!

You truly understand the mystery
known as “woman”.

Maestro…

I'm waiting for you.

Thank you, Caterina.
You were amazing in the end.

Don't close it.

I'm going.

-Good night, dear friends.
-You won't have dinner with us?

I have a sore throat. I'm going to bed.

My God, take care of yourself.
You mustn't get sick!

I have a goddess helping under the sheets.

Good luck, friend.

Are you going to make merry
with those idiots?

Or do you want to work with me?

You'll come with me to Turin.

Write my next opera.

Bravo, you were great.

All of Naples is happy
and my heart is full of joy.

Bravo, beautiful music.

An exceptional evening.

We'll be expecting you at the palace
for dinner.

I'm sorry. I can't.

-You can't refuse.
-I will have to.

I need to rest
before tomorrow's performance.

Do you want to frighten me?

There are plenty of theatres in Italy
that would love to have me.

Where did you study music?
In Italy or in your country?

In my homeland and then in Venice,
under Maestro Pescetti.

Pescetti - Little Fish. Quite a name.

Continue.

I studied at the University of Prague,

and to fulfil my father's wishes,
I learned everything about milling.

Flour, devices,

shovels, mill wheels.

How to build a dike, reinforce banks,

measure the strength of water currents.

Everything about the life of a river.

Fish. Do you know them?
Did you learn about fish?

-Oh, about fish?
-Yes.

-No.
-That's too bad. You should have.

Is there a chamber pot here?

I don't know.

Over there. Hand it to me.

Take this seat.

Put it over there. Over there.

So… you like the horn?

Yes, I loved using it
in the duet with La Gabrielli.

Really?

The Neapolitan horn school is phenomenal.

Well. You really don't understand.

Don't you know what we call a horn?

Don't worry. You'll find out.

Are there many hunting reserves
in your homeland?

-Yes.
-You have white stags, don't you?

They are very rare, Your Highness.

But we have many other animals.

We have deer,

bears, wolves,

many types of birds, pheasants…

Yes, there must be a little of everything
for the world to be a pleasant place.

And how about fish?

Fish… lots.

We have beautiful rivers and lakes.

But the sea is very cold.

We have no sea, Your Highness.

-You have no sea?
-Really, we don't.

We just have mountains for borders.

Mountains are beautiful.

But still…

I am sorry.
How can you live without fish,

without ports, without ships?

It must be sad.

Come here. Come have a look.

Do you like it?

My heartiest congratulations,
Your Highness.

Pick it up.

Have a closer look.

How is yours?

I'm sure your shit is
different before and after a performance.

I noticed that animals
show a greater regularity.

Every species defecates in its own way.
Each with its own shape and consistency.

However, humans are ever-changing.

One day it is hard, the next day soft.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

You can't rely on them.

I think it's because of
our sensitive human souls.

What do you think?

Your Highness' words are full of wisdom.

You know you can see the future in it?
I mean the future. What's to come.

I didn't know.

Maybe La Gabrielli will find out.

Put it there.

I like you very much.

Do you know what you will do now?

You will write a cantata
for our Holy Mother Church.

Then an opera for Pa's birthday.
In August.

PRAGUE 1768

You knew perfectly well
that Mother was ailing.

You should have come.

You should've been holding her hand
when she left to Heaven.

I had to listen to her rebukes.

Her weeping.

I had to let her reproach me.

But she loved you so much
she forgot you'd run away like a thief.

and that I'd had to support you.

I have many worries, and too much debt.

I have to pay people
to fix the roof and cellar.

Are you wearing cologne?

And you don't care that we're grieving?

I hope your new friends
won't lead you astray.

I paid your notary and inheritance tax.

My God…

I'd like to know how you live.

What's the point of
being famous if you're in debt?

Do you know how much it costs
to travel from Naples to Turin?

The price for the inn?
The cost of this trip?

Prima donnas make 4,000 a season.

Tenors make 3,500. Me…

400.

Theatres fight over them,
while I have to spend my money to get in.

Of course I'll give you
my share of the mill.

Welcome, Maestro.

We were awfully worried
you might not come today.

Sir Mozart is playing so he doesn't
fall asleep. They leave tomorrow.

-I'm Leopold Mozart.
-Pleased to meet you.

-I'm sorry. I had an accident.
-I'm sorry to hear.

Madam. You are also in Bologna.

-Maestro!
-I came to spend time with my brother.

We've been looking for you for months.

Everywhere we went, you'd either
just left or hadn't arrived yet.

I didn't want to miss
the chance of meeting you either.

Was that your music?

No. Unfortunately not.

It's from our neighbour Josef Haydn.
We just received it in the mail.

Wolfgang longed to meet a fellow
countryman so loved in Italy.

Maestro, they say you will have
La Gabrielli in your next production.

How is she? Good? Excellent?

Wolfgang! That's enough.

You can't smother
Mr. Myslivecek like that.

He doesn't have a sense of timing.

Gentlemen, have a seat.

La Gabrielli is coming next week.

It would be wonderful
if she could perform in your production.

They say it's not easy with La Gabrielli.

I assure you that
she is an exquisite singer.

It's been 3 seasons since I composed
for her. I am impatient to meet her again.

Maestro Mozart,
she moved me many times.

There are many wonderful singers.

But they often lack emotion.
They lack understanding.

They can't express
the right emotions on stage.

But La Gabrielli gives you
everything you want.

Sorry, but they say
she's irritable and as stubborn as a mule.

And that she is completely immoral.

They gave me your mail in Ferrara.
Your butler has it.

Excellent, thanks. I'll go open it.

Are you coming with me.
Maybe there's a letter for you, too.

Of course.

Please, excuse us.

Maestro, can I listen
to something you are working on?

Certainly.

The beginning of the opera must
always be simple and dazzling.

I do a triad in D-major.

The score is in my bag. One moment.

Bravo.

That's a crisp molto vivace.

Thank you.

Bravo.

That's beautiful.

Can I ask you something?

Do you also compose
before going to bed?

Often. Sometimes all night.

I always write the beginning
of a piece in the evening.

So that I get
the attention of the Almighty,

and I finish the piece the following day.

Each time, he lets me live because
he wants to hear how the piece ends.

You aren't afraid you won't wake up?

Don't worry, Wolfgang.

Every day that passes
teaches you to get through life.

God doesn't only care about
what you write in the evening,

but what you become
in 10, 20 or 40 years.

Maestro, bad news.

La Gabrielli writes from Palermo.
She wants to cancel her contract.

She says she wants to go to a monastery,
marry Christ, and never sing again.

She couldn't have found
a more famous husband.

A contract cannot be broken like that.

I worked with a good soprano.
Last year, in Florence.

I'm going to Florence, to Milan.

My opera will open
the new theatre in Pavia.

Then…

I'll return to Turin and Parma.

But I have no commissions in Naples.

I'm trying to say that I don't know
if we'll meet again.

I would like to stay here too.

Naples has become a prison for me.

But my husband is impatient.
I have to go back.

Will you write to me?

To correspond with a man like you
would give my life meaning again.

I could organize my thoughts
and compare them to yours.

To think…

Sorry, forget what I said.

Stop it.

No.

Dear Anna, thank you for your last letter,

and for the fascinating description of
the excavations of Pompeii.

You have a gift of talking about the
victims as if it happened just yesterday.

As if you, dear Anna, really knew them.

Had I also been buried alive so suddenly,
but together with you,

I would have died happy.

In every city, I hope that
one of your letters is waiting for me.

I admire your sensibility,

your wisdom.

How I wish to see you again.

Dear friend,

it's been two years
since we were separated.

Despite that, your image
guides me day and night.

I talk to you. We have discussions.

You are my soul mate.

The thirst for knowledge connecting us
can overcome centuries.

Love does not last in marriage.

I cannot only blame
the bad character of my husband,

but also the nature of carnal love that is
quick to catch fire but soon turns to ash.

But let's go forward.

I want to speak to you about dissonance

that finally has its place
in contemporary music.

One moment of discomfort promises
the ear a more satisfying end

when the harmony returns.

Be careful when you write.
My husband's jealousy is ever growing.

I'm enclosing two articles

I translated for you from the excellent
magazine Mercure de France.

-I am glad to see you again.
-So am I.

I look forward to the opera
you're preparing.

I'll have more stage fright
than ever before.

Why?

Because I owe you everything.

I see your name in the newspapers.
I hear it in conversations.

Travellers who have heard your operas
tell me about them.

Seldom have I been witness
to such huge success.

That's a great reward for me.

Do you know that your pupil
found a husband and has two kids?

No, I'm really glad.

-It seems she is in love.
-I'm glad to hear that.

And do you know about Falier?

They found him dead

in the bed of the Mother Superior of
the Benedictine monastery.

A broken heart.

It's a pity he died so happy
and so close to Paradise.

I'd wish him a more wretched passing.

Our poor friend isn't so well.

She says she fell off a horse.

Stop by and see her.

She'd be happy.

Take a seat.

You've changed.

You haven't.

You lost your sincerity.

No.

You just look a bit tired.

What did the doctor say?

Doctors… I went to a sorceress
in Murano, but you know, I'm not naive.

You're a success. I'm happy for you.

You've had a lot of love affairs?

I've mostly just worked.

You were like a kitten.

But you're better like that.

How are your children?

They don't tell me much.

I don't feel my best today.

Stop by another time.

Of course.

But I'll be very busy.

I must write the Christmas Mass
for Saint Zaccaria.

We can see each other over Christmas.
Or for my carnival opera.

I haven't gone out in a while,

but come for a hot chocolate.
I'd be happy to see you.

- Why were you looking at the marquis?
- What?

- Why were you looking at the marquis?
- I wasn't.

Confess.

Confess!

Addolorata, take the girls away.

Hurry.

He was your guest.
I spoke with him just as a courtesy.

Don't lie, Anna.

-I'm not lying.
-Don't lie.

Or I'll kill you.
Then I'll kill him and then myself.

Then you'll be happy and we'll be free.
Once and for all.

You wouldn't dare.

Swear…

Swear on the head of your brother

and on your dead mother.

I swear. On Carlo, on my mother.

Now you'll give me a boy.
You owe me a son.

Yes?

Good evening, Maestro.

Can I leave this over there?

Thank you.

Maestro, sir, I want to sing too…

Will you please give me lessons?

I'm sorry. I'm working.

I can pay you! I'll be your servant.
Wash your clothes, do your errands.

-I need to work now.
-Of course.

There's also a letter.

Thank you.

I'm happy you are in Naples.

Yet, I am forced to say with sadness
that our friendship must end.

Even our correspondence.

There is no way out.
Don't try to contact me.

Please.

Let us be above our suffering.

-Good day Baron.
-Good day.

I came to see you but I'll be quick.

Your brother-in-law gave me
this book for your spouse.

Thank you. She'll be happy.

May I offer you something?

No, I have to get back to work, I'm sorry.

Of course.

Unless I ought to say hello to the lady.

Yes.

But I must tell you something.

She feels very weak.

Keep it to yourself.

She is plagued by chronic melancholy.

Please.

-Maestro.
-Madam.

I have come to bring you a book
sent by your brother Carlo.

- Sir. Where is it?
- Ah, yes. I'll go fetch it.

You can't break our friendship this way.

Don't give in to the pain.

Don't be sad.

Work in peace.

Enjoy your well-deserved successes.

The future smiles on you.

The fresh air did me good.

Anna!

I must break the rule we set for ourselves

to tell you how much
I loved your last opera.

But I also want to tell you:

Even the greatest artists give up
when faced with difficult material.

Not even you can escape this rule.

Please don't succumb to
the superficial tastes

and wishes of singers
who think only of their own interests.

Read the French philosopher, Diderot.
His thoughts about opera are enlightening.

Your music could be felt more deeply.

Revealing the depths of the human soul.

Speak even more clearly, strongly
and directly to our hearts.

I tell you this because
I stay devoted to you.

Queen.

Is everyone finished?

Sir, are you betting?

Five.

Sir, you forgot your cigarette case. Here!

Christ, what are you doing? Toss it to me.

Thank you.

Which number? Queen?

No more bets?

The jacket.

Which number?

King.

Bets are off.

Gentlemen.

I'm sorry, Maestro.
You'll win it back next time.

There's no doubt.
I'll leave you without your drawers.

It would be an honour.

-What?
-Shall I add her to your bill?

I'd prefer her on my bed.

Come with me, love.

Not with her. You don't need to. Let's go.

What does she want, this hussy.

-Get lost.
-Who?

-You!
-Who are you? We work here.

Enough! Stop it!

Shut up, faggot.

Have you gone mad? Get out!

Half man.

Evil upon you.

-Take your jacket.
-My jacket?

I lost it at cards.

-Get out of here.
-Let's go.

Get lost.

Such a beautiful jacket,
and you loose it with the whores.

This isn't a life for you.

What's this?

I don't know.

It hurts a bit. Probably a sting.

PADUA 1775

Your Excellency,

I believe that the gossip about me
and my rivals' slander

are not worthy of your ears.

I am not sick because of an immoral life,
but for an entirely different reason.

My life is filled with work and faith.

May Your Excellency be reassured:

My physical state is not good,

but my head and my spirit are untouched.

Here is La Nitetti.

It won't be difficult
to adapt the text for it.

I will honour the city of Padova
with my most beautiful composition.

It's a duet from Demophon.
It needs to be made longer.

Try to add repetitions.

We'll see.

I'll pay the expenses arising
from me not conducting it personally.

Your humble and unworthy servant.

I'm sorry about what happened.

He wanted to lock me up
in the countryside.

Forbid me to see my daughters.

I was forbidden to see my brother.
Unfortunately.

Do you want a bit of tobacco for strength?

Tell me…

Am I lost?

No.

We just need a good doctor.

As a maestro am I finished?

Of course not!

The opera of the famous composer
Misliveczek known as "Il Boemo,"

with Mrs. Neri and Mr. Rubinelli,

was performed in a very well-lit theatre.

The arias were received with excitement.

You see…

I'd like to work
jointly with a librettist.

For the whole piece to come together.
The music and the lyrics.

I'm sick of the old stories.

I'd like to write an opera
closer to the life we actually live.

You said it yourself once, remember?

Will you help me find this poet in Naples?

Yes.

We will go when you're better.

Forgive me, friend.

But my life lacks meaning.

You are a fighter.

Don't be led astray.

Follow the star that take you far.
Away from an unfavourable destiny.

I never told you how much I loved you.

I regret it.

Pray for me.

I believe in a merciful God.

And one day, I hope, we will meet again.

MUNICH 1777

Farewell, my life.

Farewell, my lost hope.

May heaven

Make you happier than me

Preserve

Your beautiful creation

Eternal Gods

And the days I shall loose

Give to her

Lycidas

Where are you?

Lycidas

Does Aristea know?

She knows everything, my prince
Go to your wife's rescue

What is it?
What happened?

She suddenly lost all her senses

Are you leaving?

I am leaving
Take care of Aristea

What will she say
when she regains consciousness?

I have witnessed all of his impulses

Lycidas!

Listen!

If she looks for me

if she says

"Where's my friend?"

"Where's my friend?"

Where's my unhappy friend

Answer

He is dead

He is dead

Oh, no!

Such great sorrow

Do not give it to her

Because of me

Answer, my friend

Just

Answer

"He left, crying"

"He left… crying"

Such never-ending pain

To leave my beloved

Leave her forever

Leave her like this!

Such never-ending pain

To leave my love

To leave her forever

Leave her like this!

Such never-ending pain

Maestro! Bravo! Flawless performance!

What a beautiful evening.

The Duke of Noja and Duke of San Paolo,

are the pillars
of the new direction of the theatre.

Excellent. My warmest congratulations.
Bravo. We're proud of you.

Truly grand. The best
opera these old walls have ever heard.

Nobody writes as well
as Maestro Myslivecek.

Maestro, in the past years,
you've done so much for our theatre

and our kingdom.

We are the new blood of the theatre.

But after all we are proud of
the glorious past to which you belong.

With all the art you gave to the kingdom.

If you ever take a trip back to Naples,

you should let us know.
We would be pleased.

By the way, Wolfgang Mazard…
Do you know him well?

Of course. I already told the previous
direction that he's an great virtuoso.

We were thinking it'd be great

to have a new opera written by
a Northerner such as yourself.

Or Bianchi. We know him. He's excellent.

Let's steal Luchesi from Cologne.

-Oh, please.
-It'd cause a ruckus. What a great idea.

Gentlemen!

Maestro.

I prefer comedy, and you know that well.

But this opera is truly exceptional.

It brought me to life.

It is very…

it made me feel a lot.

Because it's true,

really true,

very true.

When my parents left to rule Spain,

I was left all alone.

I was eight. I was very sad.

I slept until noon. I wanted to forget
about myself and my family.

Like that one… Megacles.

That's it, Megacles.

He wants to sleep so as not to think.

Because he can't bear
that he lost his wife.

I wanted to forget the world too.

Even now, when I think back, it hurts.

Thank you, Your Highness.

Maestro, you make our Austria proud.

And you bring joy to Naples.

If I may, Your Highness, about Austria.

We were discussing next season.
Maestro suggested Wolfgang Massard.

Mozart?

Why that vagabond
who runs across the globe,

instead of serving my mother,
my brother and his homeland?

Do you want to make me angry
by protecting that useless young man?

No. He's simply the best, Your Highness.

You are the best.

At least this evening.

We might come listen to
your music again tomorrow.

If you wish, I could write for next year.

We'll see.

If I finish the hunt in time,
I might come listen again.

Above all, don't lose hope.

Boemo.

Caterina.

How was your time in Russia?

Seven years was too long.

I'm glad I'm back in my homeland.

I've missed your voice.

I'm looking forward to hearing you.

My dear love

I'm waiting and longing for you

It can't stay like this.

-You're still the same…
-I'm sorry, but the music is poor.

It lacks variation.

These are not arias but lullabies.

They'll think
I sold my vocal chords in Russia.

Have you forgotten the voice I have?

I know it better than you do.

These arias are just right for you.

Today we don't write as in the past.

The fashion in Europe is changing.

Music is becoming simpler.

More melody.

More feelings, inwardness, emotions.

That's what our time demands.

We're approaching better days.

Trust me.

…waiting and longing

And when

I see you

You console me

…you console me

You console me

The aria "Il caro mio bene"
and other pieces for the opera Armida

were refused by the singers
and management of the theatre.

They were replaced
by music from other composers.

A few years after Il Boemo's death,

W.A. Mozart took this aria
to create his famous "Ridente la calma."