The Agony and the Ecstasy Page #5

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Bramante, the Pope, all of them.

The reason that you have no

friends is that you are impossible!

And it's my misfortune

to love the impossible.

Tessina, if I ever loved,

it would be you.

Nothing's changed really.

- Except you're married.

- I submitted to a ceremony.

And to an embrace?

The contract called for children.

I'll never understand

the ways of nobility.

We're not noble,

we're solid merchant stock...

with old-fashioned ideas.

Once we love, it's forever.

- Is it another woman?

- No.

And...

it's not that either.

In Florence,

years ago I loved you.

I loved you.

But now there's...

there's no room in me for love.

Maybe there never was.

I wondered about that.

In Bologna there was a woman,

a courtesan.

Beautiful. I was attracted to her,

made love to her...

even wrote a sonnet to her.

It was a poor thing.

The words meant nothing,

because she meant nothing.

Less than nothing.

It left me empty.

After that I prayed...

prayed for understanding.

Maybe God crippled me...

with a purpose as he does often.

The bird's weak.

He gives it wings. The deer's

helpless. He made it swift.

He made Homer blind. And let

him see the world more clearly...

than any other man.

He gave me the power to create...

to fashion my own kind...

only here...

in these.

To other men He gives warm houses,

women and children, laughter.

- To me He gives...

- A house without love?

- No.

- A monastery?

No, filled with love

but of a different kind.

You don't believe

what I'm telling you.

I believe you think that

what you say is true.

I believe that you're lonely...

that you have made a

monastery of your work.

And this and your loneliness have

made things seem true...

which are not true.

They are.

You loved me once?

The patience of our family

is a proverb in Florence.

Obscenity!

And this has taken

the man two years...

and so it will cost a fortune

to complete it.

Why, this is profligate,

just profligate!

- You're right. It's a delusion!

- Obscenity! In the sight of God!

In the House of His Glory!

Obscenity! Shameful!

Shameful and obscene!

This artist takes...

his inspiration from the Greeks

who glorified the naked body.

He has turned Your Holiness's

own chapel into a pagan temple.

No, no, no!

Forgive me, Cardinal!

Rather his fault lies in having

strayed too far from the Greeks.

These twisted masses of flesh!

These tortured muscles!

Surely no Greek would have

painted so Barbarcus!

Well, Buonarroti,

what have you to say?

- Nothing.

- Nothing?

Then I should heed these critics

and order the panels repainted?

The Book of Genesis describes

Noah as being uncovered.

Am I to improve on Holy Writ

and put breeches on him.

You profane Holy Writ. The naked

body is not a fit subject for art.

Then God himself is profane. It was

He who created man in His own image.

Blasphemy!

He created man with pride,

not shame.

It was left to the priests

to invent shame.

- And now heresy!

- I will paint man as God made him!

In the glory of his nakedness!

But, may I suggest,

in the manner of the Greeks.

No, in my own manner!

True, no modern artist can

hope to equal the Greeks!

Why not? Why shouldn't we equal

them? Surpass them, if we can.

Really, Master Buonarroti,

I had heard you lacked modesty...

but do you claim to be

greater then the Greeks?

- I claim to be different.

- For the sake of difference?

Because I am different.

I'm a Florentine and a Christian...

painting in this century. They were

Greeks and pagans living in theirs.

Pagans? Christians? An artist

should be above such distinction.

And a cardinal, especially one who

pretends to understand art...

should be above such foolishness.

I'll tell you what stands

between us and the Greeks.

Two thousand years of human

suffering stands between us!

Christ on His Cross

stands between us.

And this difference is what

I will express in my paintings.

Just as I'll paint the truth

in spite of all the bigots...

and hypocrites in Rome!

Why do you bring fools

to judge my work?

Enough!

We have heard from piety

and learning.

And both are wrong.

The panels will not be changed.

But Buonarroti,

where will you learn respect?

When you mock my Cardinals,

you mock me, you mock the Church!

Why should I suffer your

insolence any longer?

Holiness...

...the ceiling.

- The ceiling!

Does that forgive

you everything?

This endless ceiling.

This purgatory of a ceiling.

When will you make and end of it?

When... when...

When you are finished!

When you are finished!

The only answer you have given me.

But you are not the

only artist in Rome!

No, lay more surface.

Then go home.

I'll work tonight.

Michelangelo.

Michelangelo!

He has not spoken

since we found him.

- Are there any bones broken?

- No, my lady.

We have examined him carefully.

What are you doing with the knife?

Why, we propose to bleed him,

my lady...

to release the evil humors.

Ah! You are the Pope's physicians,

are you not?

Why yes, my lady.

Ah, this man is indeed fortunate

to be in your care.

Your skills are admired

even in Florence.

- In Florence, truly?

- Truly.

Of course, in Florence...

we no longer bleed.

Rather we follow the methods of the...

of the Moorish healers, with which

I am sure you are both familiar.

But of course, my lady.

I am very grateful for all

you've done.

I shall commend you both

to His Holiness.

Oh but, my lady,

we have been instructed to...

I shall call you if you are

needed any further.

Good day, gentlemen.

Thank you.

It's no wonder, my lady. For a week

he's hardly eaten or slept.

I know. I've seen him in

one of his working fevers.

Here.

Get some water, will you?

And you'll make some broth?

Michelangelo.

Who is it?

Can't you see me?

Yes, I can see you.

I dreamt I was blind.

I couldn't...

No!

I was blind!

Help me get these

filthy clothes off him.

You, who preach the beauty and

nobility of the human body.

Look what you have done to yours!

Do you know, Michelangelo...

you smell!

As Your Holiness instructed,

I called on Michelangelo.

He's still very weak.

The Lady Countessina permitted

me only a few words with him.

- She is there? In his house?

- Every day, Holiness.

She refuses to admit

your physicians.

It'll be some time before he is

able to climb the scaffolding again.

- Well, how long? A month? A year?

- I fear never.

You don't fear, Bramante. You hope.

The ceiling will be finished.

Holiness, with your permission,

there's something...

I would like to show you. Please.

I see that you've been to the

Sistine Chapel, Master Raphael.

Yes, Your Holiness.

Remarkable.

Quite remarkable.

I congratulate you.

Don't you think today would be

a good day to try your new stick?

Finished?

And they say that Raphael

can draw with your strength.

But you can't draw

with his grace.

- Who says that.

- Should know your enemies by now.

Will this be Adam?

No, just a decoration.

I wish you'd leave my worktable

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