Original subtitles

Kids!

Hurry!

Teresa, I made something for you.

It took me a while.

Like it?

Remember...

odd keys always sound good together.

Yes...

Don't just stand there!

Get to work!

Be more vigorous with that rag!

Hurry up, I'm getting cold.

My bones ache.

Lucia?

How do you feel?

Awful.

Keep them warm, we can't risk losing them.

It's freezing in this big room.

I was cold last night because I was only given one log.

Oh Luigi...

More, Luigi...

Yes, Luigi!

Knock it off, dummy!

I'm sure you saw him the other night...

- Obviously. - Did he propose?

He won't see an inch of my skin till we marry.

Where'd you get them?

Aren't they pretty?

Close that!

They cost me three months of

tutoring the countess' idiotic son.

But it was worth it.

- They're beautiful. - But wasted in this place.

You're not the only one with a life outside here.

I have friends too.

- Girls, it's late. - Quiet...

Hurry up!

Lucia?

- Yes? - I don't like locked doors!

I'm getting dressed, be right out.

Hurry!

Shoes, quick!

Good morning.

He's pretending to conduct.

Give thanks to the Lord for He is good,

for His unfailing love,

and for His wonderful deeds for mankind.

For He satisfies the thirsty

and fills the hungry with good things.

Hallelujah!

Sant'Ignazio... can you believe it?

Right here.

- Dad, let's play. - Go take a walk.

Well? You have nothing to say?

For the first time in history,

a pope will be crowned in Venice.

It's incredible! But there's more...

he wants to visit some small churches,

including Sant'Ignazio.

Why that face?

I thought the Pontifex would seek refuge in Rome.

Nonsense, Rome is full of French pigs and that brute Napoleon...

Don't get me started.

I'm tired of procuring money for this herd of bums.

They're a burden on the coffers...

He's coming here,

we need to make an impression.

It's our chance, understand?

What can we do for this momentous occasion?

We? You!

I want a concert in honour of Pope Pius VII.

Write it.

You can still compose, right?

Of course.

Then why do you always play the same thing on Sundays?

The concert's in a month.

It'll be in the papers,

everyone will know that Venice can still produce magnificence

despite the Austrians and that Napoleon clown.

- Do you agree? - Indeed.

What is she doing there?

Come with me, you halfwit.

How many times have I told you to stay away from that boy?

Remember the deal?

You're playing with fire.

It won't end well for you, I'll kick you out.

Out!

Slowly!

Here.

- Who's it for? - Me.

It's a gift from Johann Stein's daughter.

Who?

He used to visit here years ago.

Dear Lord!

You won't bring it into the Lord's home?!

Leave it to me,

you can go to bed without concern.

We can obtain good money for this contraption and we need it.

So we don't embarrass ourselves with His Holiness.

We won't be embarrassing ourselves.

And now, please get going...

Come with me.

Does it fit? Come on.

Come on, hurry! This way.

Vermin!

I'd like to inform you that

Sant'Ignazio will welcome Pope Pius VII

for a celebration of the Holy Mass

where he will be honoured with a concert

composed by me and performed by you.

Thank you, Maestro!

Quiet!

Maybe he'll look at your compositions!

Hope so.

I need time to compose.

Wait.

Listen...

you need to sweep the storeroom.

It's full of mice.

Here's the key, put it back where it belongs.

And when you're done, change my sheets, they stink.

According to Donna Lidia,

the Pope, prelates, cardinals, aristocrats, and the Governor...

Considering one drumstick a person,

we need at least 15 roosters.

They cost more than salt these days...

We'll have to buy silverware as well.

I'm sure you'll agree that we can't use these shabby ones.

I'd like to speak to the Governor,

if you'll allow it.

I can be very persuasive.

I would prefer not, thanks.

Very well.

As an artist, you should be focused only on the music.

You've been given quite the responsibility.

The Pope!

I still can't believe it.

I'm sick of pumpkin.

There'll be time to complain, Princess,

things are about to change and so will rations.

- How so? - Are you stupid?

Nobody cares about taking care of Sant'Ignazio's orphans.

They'll let us starve to death.

- The usual pessimist. - No, it's called "reality".

Something you know nothing about.

Leave her alone, stop provoking.

- Me? - Bettina is right.

Things will change, but for the better.

The French Revolution will change things here too.

She just repeats her suitor's nonsense.

Luigi's rich, it's easy for him.

Equal rights for all, the poor and rich will be alike.

- How so? - Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité!

- Huh? - It's out of your depth.

I just want to take a boat ride in Venice.

- I've never left this place. - It's not that nice out there.

Quiet, you ninnies.

So much for liberté.

Did anyone see you?

So? When will we leave?

Soon, I just need to talk to my father.

When?

Tomorrow.

We'll leave soon.

It'll be wonderful, you'll see.

I've sinned, Father, I like a priest.

You've finally come.

- You like when I come? - I like when you stay.

Stay for dinner tonight.

I must return to Venice, for work.

I'm singing at the duke's son's birthday.

I came to see you, even if just for a minute...

and to pick up the parcel.

It arrived, didn't it?

Yes, it did.

It cost more than you said it would.

- I added a brooch. - You look great...

but I can't indulge all of your whims.

Cristiano, I'm in a tight spot.

Look at me.

Please, look at me!

You know what the San Marco choir did to me...

they kicked me out.

They ruined my reputation, I'm struggling to find work now.

I need to know that you'll stand by me.

You're my only Maestro.

Where's the old man?

Perlina's not here.

He must be struggling to compose.

One of these days I'll try to convince him.

I've written them all: Kyrie, Gloria, Credo!

I think it's best to appear

obliging and respectful of his work.

Maybe he'll listen to you.

Make some tea, my throat hurts.

I even wrote an operetta

and sang it to Luigi yesterday while he painted my portrait.

A portrait?

- We went to the pier. - And...?

- I modelled for him. - Naked?

- Yes, I mean no. - Don't, for your own good.

Nothing happened, I swear, not even a kiss.

He's a great painter, you know.

We decided he'll paint the

backdrops for our theatre scenes.

- He paints too? - We'll tour Europe.

I told him you'll all come with us,

and he agrees.

He fully agrees and says we'll leave soon.

Actually, he said:

"Great, so when we have a brood of kids your sisters

"can raise them or they can replace you on violin when

"you're too tired from having kids."

How sweet of Luigi...

Take the Mute with you, she's good with kids.

I've written everything.

I swear, he promised me. We'll get out of here.

We'll have our own concert.

If that happens, we'll go to France.

Switzerland first, I want to meet Madame de Staël.

Maybe I should write her first.

Who's Madame de Staël?

A great woman.

Oh...

Marietta? Marietta?

Marietta, do you hear that too?

- What? - The music.

No.

Bettina, wake up!

- Do you hear that music? - What music? You're nuts.

- Maybe Perlina's composing. - Go to sleep.

I'll go get Lucia.

- Where are you going? - Wait!

- I don't hear a thing. - Neither do I.

Prudenza, where are you going?

- Do you still hear it? - Yes.

Holy sweet Lord!

What are you doing here?

And this?

What do you think it is?

It looks like a forte piano

but much bigger.

It's wood, but it seems so heavy.

Of course, look how thick the strings are.

This must be a "pianoforte".

Huh?

Prudenza, look! It has pedals.

What were you doing before?

You shouldn't play with delicate instruments.

Well? What were you doing?

Do it again!

Go on!

What are you doing?

Perlina will kill you if he hears you!

Prudenza...

Marietta? Marietta!

I don't know why this pianoforte ended up here

but it's our chance to fine-tune our repertoire.

It's a sign of destiny!

Tomorrow we'll start rehearsing with our instruments.

- All right. - Move.

Move!

No!

What?

You can talk?

I found it, so I decide.

Whoever knows how to play decides, not you.

But I have the key.

Give me it!

One turn of the hourglass each...

But you'll let them accompany me on violin,

if they agree.

My, oh, my, Miss mute!

Dictating the law.

- My name is Teresa. - What?

My name is Teresa.

What do you think?

Want to play her stuff?

Well...

if it's necessary,

I'll get feral too.

I'll try,

it seems fun.

Let's say "yes" for now.

Then it's a deal, one turn of the hourglass each.

It's my turn now, right?

Grant me the pleasure of not having you in my sight...

Come with me.

You'll stay locked in here on Sundays.

You didn't delight us with anything new again this Sunday.

Are you writing?

I pray and write, write and pray, day and night.

At night I sleep, dream, and write.

It's all here in my head.

Trust me...

you will be delighted.

Great, I'll be waiting.

Make sure not to embarrass us.

Dad, look!

What is that? Don't pick up things from the ground.

Mum!

Giacomino!

My darling.

Hold on...

Enough, it's our turn.

I found you a nice widower, you know.

He has ten kids.

He asked for my help, he needs rest.

And when a parishioner asks for help, I help.

I told him I found him an orphan

who is quiet...

and feral.

I beg you, don't!

You're mute...

and you'd better keep mute.

Or you'll see how this will end.

She's crazy!

Hers was much more...

Let's all try this...

Incredible!

Can I try?

Look...

I just don't understand...

And then you do this?

Is there a mirror?

Marietta!

We're coming.

- Got it? - Yes.

Change!

Can we do it again?

Hush!

What's gotten into you this morning?

One, two, three... red light!

- Careful. - Hold on.

Come on!

Listen, this is the best passage.

"On the way back, she ran into him.

'What did I do to you? Why didn't you return?'

"With all of the tears in his body,

"he began crying incessantly..."

Come.

My dear Teresa, just what you asked for...

Come.

Meet your future husband,

Mr. Alvise.

He came from Chioggia to get you.

- She's strong. - Yes.

- You said she was docile. - She's just nervous.

Don't get worked up, don't make a scene.

Let me go!

We'll go home now.

Get over here!

Stop! Behave.

Perlina?

What's going on?

Did I hear you making a fuss?

- Hello, Donna Lidia. - Hello to you.

I wanted to have a word but you're always so busy.

I have all the time in the world for you.

I'd like to know how my girls are doing.

Are they studying, eating enough?

Absolutely.

And you? Are they feeding you?

Come, let's go for a stroll.

Excuse us.

Well?

Hi, Mum.

Why is the Maestro angry with you?

What did you do?

Nothing.

I can't tell you.

Sorry, Teresa...

We know nothing about you, you arrived after us.

- We all grew up here together. - That's not true.

Only Lucia and I have been here since birth. You have a father.

My mother died when I was small and my father left me here.

He found me a husband but...

This fool said she'd rather be a nun than stop playing music!

So she got locked up in here.

And you?

I belonged to a company of storytellers,

but while we were in Venice

15 years ago,

I fell sick and they left me here...

and nobody came back to get me.

I lost everyone.

Me too.

I lived with my family not far from here

and they killed them all.

Who?

The French.

So you lost your voice from the shock.

Amongst other things.

Again!

Maestro, when will we rehearse the concert compositions?

You can't even do scales yet!

And you can't stay in tempo either!

From the start!

Faster!

Romeo, has a letter come for me?

No.

Nothing.

Again!

Out!

Go back to where you came from.

Nothing from the Dal Bene family?

Nothing.

Finally decided to show up? It's about time, ladies.

Today?

Nothing.

It's a concert for the Pope, not for the cattle fair!

Is this your level? Is it?

Enough, you are my torment, enough!

Not a single line today either.

Again!

No!

Romeo?

Well?

Still nothing.

Nothing? It's been 10 days since he last wrote me.

I'm sorry.

Just for a day.

Even just one day.

To have you near me.

Just one day in the world

I don't know why.

I live without you.

I don't know why.

I don't know why...

How do you come up with such simple words?

I don't know, I just sing my thoughts.

I'm not running a charity.

It's all there.

You're being sneaky, as always.

Hands off!

This is only half, now what?

Look at me when I'm talking to you.

Look at me.

- I'll give you two days. - Sure...

Two days and then I'll massacre you!

I'll give you two days!

It's not fair, I just want to sing...

If I don't pay my debts by Sunday,

I'm dead.

Come now...

relax.

Nothing will happen to you.

They're brutes.

How much do you need?

What can I do for you, Maestro?

Do you know any composers who can help me?

They must remain anonymous.

Yes, of course I can help you.

With me there's no need to be ashamed.

You're Maestro Perlina,

you'll put on a glorious concert.

Thank you, Maestro...

I'll see to it.

Maestro, hello.

I wanted to leave you some of my new compositions.

If need be, you can include them in the concert.

Without my name, of course. It would be an honour.

How dare you?

You think you're worthy of the Pope?

Read it out loud.

They're just thoughts, that's all...

In verse?

Yes, but...

I don't know... never mind.

Come on.

I like nothing and I like no one.

This body which was a celebration,

full of false loves, full of hair.

With all my heart I'll come say: "What do you think?"

This body which loves me...

Even if it falls nothing happens.

It's a promise I make to myself:

I will take back what you took from me.

It goes from my head and comes back to my head.

A song that floods my eyes.

While tears fall, I tremble.

My belly swells and my breasts swell too.

It goes from my head and comes back to my head.

A song that makes my teeth explode.

While I laugh, I forget having cried.

My tongue moves on its own and I sing...

I sing.

What you want to give you can't hold back.

Implore to stay.

If too much bad hurts so bad

I don't want to know all this good.

What you want to give you can't hold back.

Implore to stay.

If too much bad hurts so bad.

I don't want to know all this good.

I admit I'm tired of this pantomime.

This isn't music,

this is child's play.

It's fun, but we're just wasting time.

We need to start from here.

Learn the alphabet before you start speaking.

Play something suitable.

- Go on. - Leave her alone.

You're not capable and we know that.

So will you get out of the way?

Come here, Teresa.

Know the difference between me and you?

You're a witch and your fingers jump like crickets,

so we listen and laugh.

But outside of here,

nobody will want to listen to you!

- Lucia, enough! - Let us do our work!

Tomorrow I'll tell Perlina what

you're doing and he'll punish you.

He won't touch us because we're

his orchestra and you're nothing.

Enough, Lucia.

No, we need to get out of here!

Enough, Lucia.

Calm down.

We have to get out of this place!

Because it's indecent, dirty, putrid!

Do you want His Holiness to think that?

New, shiny, immaculate,

that's how I want this institution!

Today we begin rehearsing

for the big concert.

Only one page?

Focus.

Marietta!

Sorry, Maestro.

Marietta, I already know that you're stupid...

but now you've gone blind and can't read the score?

Sorry, I was listening to my ear.

Oh...

and since when do you listen to your ear?

If I may be so bold, Maestro...

this passage wasn't very clear.

Sweet Mary!

If Sant'Ignazio's first violin

says the passage isn't clear then...

let's all stop for a minute

while I listen to my ear.

What's it saying?

You're a moron.

You're the worst orchestra I've ever had.

You're a herd of vain and tone-deaf peasants!

You are my punishment, I deserve you, I deserve you...

Thank you, Lord, thank you for forgiving me.

My ear is saying something else...

It says it wants to hear.

"Eja Mater" reverberate in every room now!

What?

Like this...

Watch me, then you do it.

No, not like that, extend the arm...

No, no, no.

First straighten your arm, then bend it.

Turn the violin...

Extend the arm and keep your back straight.

No, no...

Hold on tight to the lessons with Donna Lidia's son.

Replace that scowl with a grateful face,

because if all goes well,

you'll do this for the rest of your life.

Get your instruments.

I want to try something.

You can still read sheet music, right?

It's a canon, stick with me.

- Great! - It's lovely.

Good job, Lucia.

It's wonderful.

I didn't think you liked our music.

I've always liked your music

but the one you're writing is even better.

Good job, Lucia.

Why the smiles?

We're not doing this for you

but for the Pope, if he wants to come thank you

he mustn't see you looking filthy and shabby.

It won't happen, but in case it does...

No!

We'd better go.

Coming.

For past and future debts...

"Dear girls,

at the wish of my dearly departed father,

I'm sending you the most precious gift in the world..."

Oh, it's you. I waited for you last night.

Our appointment was for this morning.

You said you have a composer friend, where is he?

Where is he? Is he here?

Gustavo? Yes...

He's coming now.

He's coming.

Excuse me a second.

He's here.

- Hello. - Morning, Maestro.

Give me that.

Where is it?

This?

- Is this it? - Yes.

This is unacceptable.

Are there others?

I brought you my best compositions.

These are the best?!

Get out of here!

Get lost, go!

Damn you, you told me he was good.

I'm out of time.

Maestro...

- I'm out of time. - Breathe.

- Breathe... - I'm out of time.

"We decline any proposal of marriage

for our son, Luigi Dal Bene, with Lucia Del Violin."

I was looking all over for you.

What is it?

Read it.

"Dear girls,

my father Johann Stein, the great piano maker,

spent his life fine-tuning this one-of-a-kind prototype

and on his deathbed decided to donate it to you."

"On his travels, he saw some of Europe's best musicians,

but you impressed him most.

Only you were able to make the souls of his instruments sing."

"To Sant'Ignazio's orphans".

Huh?

The piano is ours... I mean, yours.

There's even a certificate of ownership.

What should we do?

- Where's Lucia? - I don't know.

It's late, we have to go. Marietta, go get Lucia.

Lucia?

You're scaring us.

What happened?

Lucia, please.

Look at me!

What do I do?

What happened?

- What's wrong with Lucia? - Nothing.

What's wrong with Lucia? Dear God!

Don't touch her!

Lucia! It's a sin!

Lucia!

Lucia killed herself!

Close it!

Bettina, close the door.

Close it!

It's a sin.

God forgive us, forgive us.

"Dear Luigi, how can I forget you?

You of all people..."

What are you doing here?

I'm working, go away.

You know you'll never manage.

I should've tied a stone to her leg and drowned her.

Kneel down.

Pardon?

You're talking nonsense. Are you delirious?

Don't you see what I'm doing?

Beg me to save you.

Peasant!

You're a peasant!

We've decided to save you.

You can use Lucia's compositions for the concert.

I'd rather hang myself in front of the Pope.

You know you have no choice, we'll give you the scores.

In exchange, bring back the piano.

What do you know about the piano?

Bring back the piano and you'll have your concert.

Too late.

I already sold it.

But bring me the scores.

Maybe I can make use of something.

Go on.

Go!

You don't understand.

I'll tell Donna Lidia everything.

I'll tell her how her husband took

me by force until he got me pregnant

and how you took my baby from me

and swore me to silence.

Give me that!

- Give me it! - No!

Give me it!

Give me that!

Tomorrow the piano will be back.

Now, please...

go get the scores

and bring them to me.

Hey...

Promise you won't tell Donna Lidia.

Choir...

- Trumpet... - Violin...

Second violin?

Yes.

Oboe...

Here's the cello.

Choir...

Can the others keep up?

Yes, they sight-read scores since birth.

Violin...

Violin...

Here.

Cello.

Here it is.

Romeo?

I need to ask you another favour.

Hello, darling.

Thanks.

How can I forget you?

You of all people?

You locked me behind a window.

In the forest.

Without an item of clothing.

As if it were forbidden.

How can I forget you?

You seemed drunk with every step.

If I think about the steps I took.

Now that you're gone what will they say?

All the people who see.

That I cannot forget about you.

I think and think for hours and days

I forget for months and seek a doctor.

It's a matter of time.

And once this song is over I'll decide who to give it to.

But the desire and love I have within me.

Will now come back to me.

Pope Pius VII will come from there.

- Good morning, ma'am. - Blessed Sunday to you.

Blessed Sunday to you. God bless us.

Hope it's a success for your sake,

since you never bothered to let me hear any of it.

We're in your hands.

Why is that evil contraption up there?

What will the Pope think?

Hello, Governor.

He's here!

He's here.

The Lord be with you.

Can I help?

Relax, they already have our scores.

- Ready? - Yes, are you?

When he arrives, come with me.

- Sorry, Maestro. - What?

- What's going on? - Who composed this?

- Are you crazy? - Come on.

We had a deal.

Let me out, wretches!

You're dead!

Let's get started.

Let me out!

You're dead!

Kids, hurry.

This is outrageous...

Don't!

Let me out!

What is this stuff?

Giacomino, where are you going?

If this is a joke, they'd better stop it.

I'll see to it, Your Holiness.

- What's going on? - We'll find the Maestro...

- He should be here. - We'll find him.

The Pope is here!

I didn't organise it.

He's a great musician, you know.

A great, inspired musician.

Don't badmouth Perlina!

Oh God! God, he's dead!

Call for help!

The governor is dead!

Go away!

Enough, stop!

Where's Perlina?

Excommunicated!

You're all excommunicated!

Shame on you!

Make them stop!

Shut up!

Lidia, come here. There's a letter from the girls.

"Dear Teresa and Lidia,

first of all, happy birthday to our Giacomino.

If our calculations are correct,

this letter should reach you

on the day of his twelfth birthday.

Our all-female company is making great headway..."

"We've added a superb woodwind section,

three girls we met in Denmark who wanted to travel with us.

It was freezing.

We had to wear finger less gloves even indoors.

We've almost arrived in Switzerland.

Madame de Staël finally answered Bettina's letters,

can you believe it?

And she invited us to go play for her.

We're almost there.

It's beautiful here, I wish you could see it.

I have to go now.

We love you and hope you're happy.

We're not exactly "all-female"...

Lucia fell in love with a percussionist.

He always travels with us and helps with lots of tasks.

He asked her to marry him

but she said she'd rather not.

You know how Lucia is, she has a mind of her own.

Hope it lasts,

we like him, and Lucia seems happy.

You have to come on our next tour.

Guess what?

Prudenza's gotten very good and

she finds us venues back-to-back.

She met a publisher who might publish something of ours,

but who knows... we'll see.

I really do need to go now.

- Hello! - Hello!

Oh wait!

How is the piano doing?

Did you finally tell Giacomino the story of our piano?

What story?