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Ah. Italian?
Forgive me. We all have patriotic feelings of some kind.
Two thousand, two hundred florins is all I need A hundred? Fifty?
What exactly are you working on?
I can't say. Really
I don't think you should become known in Vienna as a debtor, Mozart. However, I know a very distinguished gentleman I could recommend to you. And he has a daughter. Will that do?
Wolfgang, what is it? Sta calmo, per favore. What's the matter?
It's unbelievable! The Director has actually ripped out a huge section of my music. Pages of it.
Really? Why?
I don't know. They say I've got to rewrite the opera, but it's perfect as it is. I can't rewrite what's perfect. Can't you talk to him?
Why bother with OrsiniRosenberg? He's obviously no friend of yours.
Oh, I could kill him! I mean really kill him. I actually threw the entire opera on the fire, he made me so angry!
You burned the score?
Oh no! My wife took it out in time.
How fortunate.
It's not fair that a man like that has power over our work.
But there are those who have power over him. I think I'll take this up with the Emperor.
Oh, Excellency, would you?
With all my heart, Mozart.
Thank you! Oh, thank you.
Nine performances! Nine! That's all it's had and withdrawn.
I know; it's outrageous. Still, if the public doesn't like one's work one has to accept the fact gracefully.
But what is it they don't like?
Well, I can speak for the Emperor. You made too many demands on the royal ear. The poor man can't concentrate for more than an hour and you gave him four.
What did you think of it yourself? Did you like it at all?
I think it's marvelous. Truly.
It's the best opera yet written. I know it! Why didn't they come?
I think you overestimate our dear Viennese, my friend. Do you know you didn't even give them a good bang at the end of songs so they knew when to clap?
I know, I know. Perhaps you should give me some lessons in that.
I wouldn't presume. All the same, if it wouldn't be imposing, I would like you to see my new piece. It would be a tremendous honour for me.
Oh no, the honour would be all mine.
Grazie, mio caro, Wolfgang!
Grazie, a lei, Signor Antonio!
Mozart. It was good of you to come.
How could I not?
Did my work please you?
How could it not, Excellency?
Yes?
I never knew that music like that was possible.
You flatter me.
Oh no! One hears such sounds and what can one say, but Salieri!
I have come to commission work from you.
What work?
A Mass for the dead.
What dead? Who is dead?
A man who deserved a Requiem Mass and never got one.
Who are you?
I am only a messenger. Do you accept? You will be paid well.
How much?
How long will you give me?
Work fast. And be sure to tell no one what you do. You will see me again soon.
I don't have it yet. It's not finished. I'm sorry, but I need more time.
Are you neglecting my request?
No, no! I promise you, I'll give you a wonderful piece the best I ever can!
What happened? Is it over?
I'm taking you home. You're not well.
No, no. I have to get back. I have
Where is your wife?
Not here! She's not well, either. She went to the Spa.
You mean she's not coming back?
You're so good to me. Truly. Thank you.
No, please.
I mean to come to my opera. You are the only colleague who did.
I would never miss anything that you had written. You must know that.
This is only a vaudeville.
Oh no. It is a sublime piece. The grandest operone. I tell you, you are the greatest composer known to me.
Do you mean that?
I do.
I have bad fancies. I don't sleep well anymore. Then I drink too much, and think stupid things.
Are you ill?
The doctor thinks I am. But
What?
I'm too young to be so sick.
Shall I answer it?
No! No, it's him!
Who?
The man. He's here.
What man?
Wait! Ask him if he'd give me some money now. Tell him if he would, that would help me finish it.
Finish what?
He knows. He knows!
Another? But that's too soon! Tomorrow night? It's impossible! Did he say a hundred?
Yes. Can I could I help you, in any way?
Would you? Actually, you could.
My dear friend, it would be my greatest pleasure.
But you'd have to swear not to tell a soul. I'm not allowed.
Of course.
You know, it's all here in my head. It's just ready to be set down. But when I'm dizzy like this my eyes won't focus. I can't write.
Then, let us try together. I'd regard it as such an honour. Tell me, what is this work?
A Mass. A Mass for the Dead.
Where did I stop?
The end of the Recordare Statuens in parte dextra.
So now the Confutatis. Confutatis Maledictis. When the wicked are confounded. Flammis acribus addictis. How would you translate that?
Consigned to flames of woe.
Do you believe in it?
What?
A fire which never dies. Burning one forever?
Oh, yes.
Strange!
Come. Let's begin.