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<i><b>CAPTIONED ONLY FROM 50:43 TO END OF VIDEO</b></i>

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-[narrator] It's a self-portrait[br]unlike any painted before.

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Usually when artists[br]looked in the mirror,

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they liked[br]what they saw,

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and what they saw were men,[br]young or old,

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whose features were[br]ennobled by their calling

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to bring virtue, beauty,[br]and grace into the world.

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Now, look at Caravaggio.

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A decapitated head is Goliath,[br]bloody, grotesque, a monster.

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In <i>The Beheading of John the Baptist,</i>[br]evil was done by other people.

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Here it's Caravaggio who's[br]the embodiment of wickedness.

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In this victory[br]of virtue over evil,

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David is supposed to be[br]the center of attention,

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but have you ever seen[br]a less jubilant victor?

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On his sword is inscribed[br]<i>humilitas occidit superbiam,</i>

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"humility conquers pride,"

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a battle that's been fought out[br]inside Caravaggio's head

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between the two sides of[br]the painter portrayed here.

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There's the devout,[br]courageous David Caravaggio,

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and then there's the criminal sinner,[br]Goliath Caravaggio.

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"I know who I've been,"[br]says a pathetic head,

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unable to look us in the eyes.[br]"I know what I've done."

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It's a desolate vision,[br]offered to us in utter blackness.

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No virtue,[br]no grace,

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just the dark truth in the[br]inside of Caravaggio's head,

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flooded with tragic[br]self-knowledge.

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[♪ pensive music ♪]

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For me, the power of his art[br]is the power of truth,

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not least about ourselves.

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For if we're ever to have[br]a chance of redemption,

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it must begin with an act[br]of recognition that in all of us,

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the Goliath competes[br]with the David.

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In July 1610, Caravaggio[br]rolled up his paintings

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and set sail for Naples,[br]finally heading home.

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[♪ hopeful music ♪ ]

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Sailing north, his boat stopped[br]at the tiny harbor of Palo,

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on the coast[br]just west of Rome.

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[door clangs shut]

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Here the local captain of the guard[br]either hadn't heard about his pardon,

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or mistook him[br]for some other fugitive.

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Either way,[br]he's thrown in jail.

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By the time he's managed[br]to pay his way out,

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his boat has sailed off[br]along with his paintings,

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his offering to Borghese.

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[♪ somber chorus ♪]

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Desperate to catch up with his ship[br]with its precious cargo,

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Caravaggio sets off north[br]towards Porto Ercole,

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a hundred kilometers[br]through the malarial

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infested swamp country,[br]the Maremma.

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[♪ grim music ♪]

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Here, the final disaster awaited.

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In a pathetic attempt[br]to hail a ship,

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Caravaggio starts[br]running along the beach

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under the broiling July sun[br]before collapsing in the sand.

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By now he's suffering[br]from a raging fever,

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and is taken to a local[br]monastic hospital.

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There, according to a[br]contemporary report,

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without the aid of God or man,[br]he died, as miserably as he'd lived.

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[♪ grim music ♪]

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[no spoken audio]

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-Nooo!

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-It's sometime later that the[br]Pope's nephew, Scipione Borghese,

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finally receives the paintings with which[br]Caravaggio had hoped to win his pardon.

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The Cardinal finds himself[br]face to face with the picture

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of the painter[br]as the slain Goliath.

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The Cardinal[br]isn't used to this.

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Artists have been[br]given their gift by God

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to bring beauty[br]into the world,

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to put mortal creatures in touch[br]with their higher selves.

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That's the way[br]it was supposed to be,

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but Caravaggio never did anything[br]the way it was supposed to be.

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"Here I am," says this dead face,[br]which seems still alive.

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"They said whoever delivers[br]my head will get a reward.

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"Well, I'm turning myself in.[br]Will that do?

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"Can I have my reward?[br]Can I have my pardon?"

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"Sorry," says the Cardinal.[br]"So sorry-- you're too late."

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[♪ pensive music ♪]