Amadeus Page #3

OLD SALIERI:

Where?

VOGLER:

Here in Vienna.

OLD SALIERI:

Then you must know this.

He propels his wheelchair to the forte-piano, and plays an

unrecognizable melody.

VOGLER:

I can't say I do. What is it?

OLD SALIERI:

I'm surprised you don't know. It was

a very popular tune in its day. I

wrote it. How about this?

He plays another tune.

OLD SALIERI:

This one brought down the house when

we played it first.

He plays it with growing enthusiasm.

CUT TO:

INT. THE STAGE OF AN OPERA HOUSE - NIGHT - 1780'S

We see the pretty soprano KATHERINA CAVALIERI, now about

twenty-four, dressed in an elaborate mythological Persian

costume, singing on stage. She's near the end of a very florid

aria by Salieri. The audience applauds wildly.

INT. OLD SALIERI'S HOSPITAL ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON - 1823

OLD SALIERI:

(taking his hands off

the keys)

Well?

VOGLER:

I regret it is not too familiar.

OLD SALIERI:

Can you recall no melody of mine? I

was the most famous composer in Europe

when you were still a boy. I wrote

forty operas alone. What about this

little thing?

Slyly he plays the opening measure of Mozart's Eine Kleine

Nachtmusik. The priest nods, smiling suddenly, and hums a

little with the music.

VOGLER:

Oh, I know that! That's charming! I

didn't know you wrote that.

OLD SALIERI:

I didn't. That was Mozart. Wolfgang

Amadeus Mozart. You know who that

is?

VOGLER:

Of course. The man you accuse yourself

of killing.

OLD SALIERI:

Ah - you've heard that?

VOGLER:

All Vienna has heard that.

OLD SALIERI:

( eagerly)

And do they believe it?

VOGLER:

Is it true?

OLD SALIERI:

Do you believe it?

VOGLER:

Should I?

A very long pause. Salieri stares above the priest, seemingly

lost in his own private world.

VOGLER:

For God's sake, my son, if you have

anything to confess, do it now!

Give yourself some peace!

A further pause.

VOGLER:

Do you hear me?

OLD SALIERI:

He was murdered, Father! Mozart!

Cruelly murdered.

Pause.

VOGLER:

(almost whispering)

Yes? Did you do it?

Suddenly Old Salieri turns to him, a look of extreme

innocence.

OLD SALIERI:

He was my idol! I can't remember a

time when I didn't know his name!

When I was only fourteen he was

already famous. Even in Legnago -

the tiniest town in Italy - I knew

of him.

CUT TO:

EXT. A SMALL TOWN SQUARE IN LOMBARDY, ITALY - DAY - 1780'S

There are twelve children and twenty adults in the square.

We see the fourteen-year-old Salieri blindfolded, playing a

game of Blindman's Bluff with other Italian children, running

about in the bright sunshine and laughing.

OLD SALIERI (V.O.)

I was still playing childish games

when he was playing music for kings

and emperors. Even the Pope in Rome!

CUT TO:

INT. A SALON IN THE VATICAN - DAY - 1780'S

We see the six-year-old MOZART, also blindfolded, seated in

a gilded chair on a pile of books, playing the harpsichord

for the POPE and a suite of CARDINALS and other churchmen.

Beside the little boy stands LEOPOLD, his father, smirking

with pride.

OLD SALIERI (V.O.)

I admit I was jealous when I heard

the tales they told about him. Not

of the brilliant little prodigy

himself, but of his father, who had

taught him everything.

The piece finishes. Leopold lowers the lid of the harpsichord

and lifts up his little son to stand on it. Mozart removes

the blindfold to show a pale little face with staring eyes.

Both father and son bow. A Papal Chamberlain presents Leopold

with a gold snuff box whilst the cardinals decorously applaud.

Over this scene Old Salieri speaks.

OLD SALIERI (V.O.)

My father did not care for music. He

wanted me only to be a merchant,

like himself. As anonymous as he

was. When I told how I wished I could

be like Mozart, he would say, Why?

Do you want to be a trained monkey?

Would you like me to drag you around

Europe doing tricks like a circus

freak? How could I tell him what

music meant to me?

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