Farinelli and the King

Claire Van Kampen

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2018
• ISBN:
  9781786822956
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Médias et arts de la scène
• Subtopic: Théâtre

Farinelli and the King is a "profoundly funny and haunting mediation on melancholy and the therapeutic powers of music" set in the Royal Spanish court in the 18th century. Depressed and plagued by insomnia, Kind Philippe V of Spain lies awake in his chamber. The Queen, desperate to find a cure, hears of Farinelli - a castrato with a voice so divine it has the power to captivate all who hear it. Philippe is capricious and difficult to please, but even he is astonished when Farinelli sings, and begs him to stay. But will Farinelli, one of the greatest celebrities of his time, choose a life of solitude over fame and fortune in the opera houses of Europe? And will his extraordinary talent prove to be a curse rather than a blessing? Described as "an enchanting, shimmering fairytale for grown-ups"(New York Times), Farinelli and the King starrred Mark Rylance and played to sold-out audiences at Shakespeare's Globe. It transferred with great success to London's West End and Broadway in 2017.

ACT ONE

SCENE 1. MAY 1737.

The Palace. Madrid. Night.

The great ballroom, which is empty except for PHILIPPE, wearing a crown and a nightshirt and fishing from a goldfish bowl in the dark except for moonlight, which streams in through the casement window.

PHILIPPE speaking to the goldfish.

I see you are ignoring my bait; Kings shouldn’t catch fish. Perhaps they fed you before, just to trick me into believing you’re playing hard to catch. But I’m ahead of them all, you see. I know I am dreaming and they do not. Ah – you’re thinking – how does he know he’s dreaming, aren’t you. Who would fish out of a goldfish bowl except in a dream! If I were mad, as they think I am, I would be fishing at noon when the sun’s the very devil. Besides which, dreams happen by moonlight, everyone knows that, and the moon is full tonight. How blessed that at the outset of every such revolution you can remember nothing of the one before. How much happier you are, then, dear — I’m so sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name… ALFONSO. Thank you. How much happier you are than I! Now to your other merits: Leaning in intimately I was touched by the confidence with which you speak to me of your affairs; and the cordiality of your offer to redress mine; the tender anxiety for my health – but I should tell you in the strictest confidence you understand…shh …here the body cares very little for the affairs of the mind;: at night you may be a favourite, and in the morning unknown.

Well…you won’t be caught, that’s a good omen. (ISABELLA enters.) Watch out! I nearly got him then.

ISABELLA: Philippe –

PHILIPPE: – Shh!

ISABELLA: What are you doing?

PHILIPPE: Isn’t it obvious? Trying not to fish. (He picks up the gold fish bowl, hugs it as if to protect it from her.)

ISABELLA: Put the goldfish down.

PHILIPPE: I can’t do that.

ISABELLA: Why not?

PHILIPPE: Might bite you.

ISABELLA: Goldfish don’t bite.

PHILIPPE: This one’s different.

ISABELLA: It’s time you slept now.

PHILIPPE: I’ll sleep when he sleeps.

ISABELLA: I don’t think goldfish sleep.

PHILIPPE: How do you know?

ISABELLA: Come to bed.

PHILIPPE: Why have they brought my bed into the garden?

ISABELLA: If we were in the garden, the air would be cooler, and we would hear the nightbirds singing and the sound of crickets.

PHILIPPE: Nicely put. You can see can’t you how they have succeeded in tricking you. You have stepped into my dream.

ISABELLA: Why is it a dream?

PHILIPPE: Do you really think I would be fishing from a goldfish bowl in my bedchamber?!

ISABELLA: Come with me. Leave that.

PHILIPPE: Why? Are you offering me sex?

ISABELLA: No…yes.

PHILIPPE: No, can’t do. You are very beautiful tonight. But you don’t understand – because you are not a King – that you are disturbing him, don’t you see, just by being here in my dream. You must leave us in privacy if you please; he won’t speak when you are near – and mind you take your beauty with you when you leave; it disturbs the moonlight. (Looking up where the moon should be.) Oh it’s moved! And you’re blocking my view of the stars tonight, which are very spectacular. (To the goldfish.) Don’t you agree? The stars are wonderful tonight? Or do they look a little – distorted in your view? (He gets down to goldfish level and tries to peer up through the water as if he were the fish.) What? Oh yes. I do see what you mean.

ISABELLA: (To the goldfish.) There are no stars tonight; the moon is too bright for them.

PHILIPPE: (To the fish.) D’you hear that! ‘the moon is too bright for them’!… Now what are we to do about that!… In a minute, I might go hunting.

ISABELLA: It’s the middle of the night! You can’t see to kill anything.

PHILIPPE: Why would I want to kill anything?!

ISABELLA: It’s what you do on a hunt.

PHILIPPE: (Laughs.) Are you quite well?

He continues fishing

And another thing: I wouldn’t be troubling the stable – men to saddle up any of those things they call horses. (He points to painting of himself on his mare.) All I have to do is climb into that painting and up on her back, and away we go… Simple isn’t it. There, that one. Grizelda. Runs like the wind. Wonderful mare. Shame she’s dead.

ISABELLA: If I sang to you, perhaps –

PHILIPPE: Oh don’t do that! You have a voice like a frog!

His attention returns to the goldfish.

PHILIPPE: Look at the loyalty. He swims away and then returns to me over and over again.

ISABELLA picks up the goldfish bowl

PHILIPPE: Put it down. This is my dream, not yours. Stay out of it.

She puts the bowl down. Then goes over to the candles, which are mainly unlit. Starts to light them, one from another.

ISABELLA: – You need more light. Is it any wonder you think you are in the garden.

PHILIPPE: – Che amore a nullo amar perdona – ‘Love allows nothing beloved to love another’… (Notices the candles.)

– Help! Fire! Help! I’ll put it out! Run! Run!

He snatches the bowl from her and throws it and its contents at her –

Pause.

ISABELLA: Right… Right.

She leaves with dignity. He stands peacefully contemplating the fish which is flapping in a puddle of water. Picks the fish up and holds it in the palm of his hand.

My dear chap…come, let’s get you by the fire. (Moves to the candelabra and holds the fish to the light.) Listen to me old chap: everything produced in this world has its shadow even at the beginning; when we are taken from the safety of the dark then are we no longer wholly ourselves; we have been claimed by others; it is how nations become great. Not all of us are equal; we ...