Amadeus Page #11

SALIERI:

Excuse me, Sire, but what do you

think these could be? Being a

foreigner, I would love to learn.

JOSEPH:

Cattivo again, Court Composer. Well,

tell him, Mozart. Name us a German

virtue.

MOZART:

Love, Sire!

SALIERI:

Ah, love! Well of course in Italy we

know nothing about that.

The Italian faction - Orsini-Rosenberg and Bonno - laugh

discreetly.

MOZART:

No, I don't think you do. I mean

watching Italian opera, all those

male sopranos screeching. Stupid fat

couples rolling their eyes about!

That's not love - it's just rubbish.

An embarrassed pause. Bonno giggles in nervous amusement.

MOZART:

Majesty, you choose the language. It

will be my task to set it to the

finest music ever offered a monarch.

Pause. Joseph is clearly pleased.

JOSEPH:

Well, there it is. Let it be German.

He nods - he has wanted this result all the time. He turns

and makes for the door. All bow. Then he becomes aware of

the manuscript in his hand.

JOSEPH:

Ah, this is yours.

Mozart does not take it.

MOZART:

Keep it, Sire, if you want to. It is

already here in my head.

JOSEPH:

What? On one hearing only?

MOZART:

I think so, Sire, yes.

Pause.

JOSEPH:

Show me.

Mozart bows and hands the manuscript back to the Emperor.

Then he goes to the forte-piano and seats himself. The others,

except for Salieri, gather around the manuscript held by the

King. Mozart plays the first half of the march with deadly

accuracy.

MOZART:

(to Salieri)

The rest is just the same, isn't it?

He plays the first half again but stops in the middle of a

phrase, which he repeats dubiously.

MOZART:

That really doesn't work, does it?

All the courtiers look at Salieri.

MOZART:

Did you try this? Wouldn't it be

just a little more -?

He plays another phrase.

MOZART:

Or this - yes, this! Better.

He plays another phrase. Gradually, he alters the music so

that it turns into the celebrated march to be used later in

The Marriage of Figaro, Non Piu Andrai. He plays it with

increasing abandon and virtuosity. Salieri watches with a

fixed smile on his face. The court watches, astonished. He

finishes in great glory, takes his hands off the keys with a

gesture of triumph - and grins.

INT. BEDROOM IN SALIERI'S APARTMENT - DAY - 1780'S

We see the olivewood cross. Salieri is sitting at his desk,

staring at it.

SALIERI:

Grazie, Signore.

There is a knock at the door. He does not hear it, but sits

on. Another knock, louder.

SALIERI:

Yes?

Lorl comes in.

LORL:

Madame Cavalieri is here for her

lesson, sir.

SALIERI:

Bene.

He gets up and enters:

INT. MUSIC ROOM IN SALIERI'S APARTMENT - DAY - 1780'S

KATHERINA CAVALIERI, a young, high-spirited soprano of twenty

is waiting for him, dressed in a fashionable dress and wearing

on her head an exotic turban of satin, with a feather. Lorl

exits.

CAVALIERI:

(curtseying to him)

Maestro.

SALIERI:

Good morning.

CAVALIERI:

(posing, in her turban)

Well? How do you like it? It's

Turkish. My hairdresser tells me

everything's going to be Turkish

this year!

SALIERI:

Really? What else did he tell you

today? Give me some gossip.

CAVALIERI:

Well, I heard you met Herr Mozart.

SALIERI:

Oh? News travels fast in Vienna.

CAVALIERI:

And he's been commissioned to write

an opera. Is it true?

SALIERI:

Yes.

CAVALIERI:

Is there a part for me?

SALIERI:

No.

CAVALIERI:

How do you know?

SALIERI:

Well even if there is, I don't think

you want to get involved with this

one.

CAVALIERI:

Why not?

SALIERI:

Well, do you know where it's set, my

dear?

CAVALIERI:

Where?

SALIERI:

In a harem.

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