through this little man... to all the world. Unstoppable. Making my defeat more bitter with every passing bar. And then... do you know what happened? A miracle! With that yawn... l saw my defeat turn... into a victory. Mozart was lucky The emperor yawned only once. Three yawns... and the opera would fail the same night. Two yawns... within a week at most. With one yawn... the composer could still get... nine performances! Nine, that's all it's had...and withdrawn. I know, 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? I can speak for the emperor. You make too many demands on the royal ear. He can't concentrate over an hour. You gave him four. What did you think of it? Did you like it at all? I thought it was marvelous. Of course. It's the best opera yet written! I know it. Why didn't they come? I think you overestimate our dear Viennese, my friend. You didn't even give them a good bang at the end of songs... to tell them when to clap. I know. You should give me lessons in that. I wouldn't presume. Nevertheless, at the risk of imposing... I'd like you to see my new piece. It would be a tremendous honor for me. No, the honor would be all mine. I believe... l believe... it is the best opera... yet written, my friends. You are the brightest star... in the musical firmament. You do honor to Vienna... and to me. It was good of you to come. How could I not? Bravo, maestro. Did my work please you? I never knew that music like that was possible. You flatter me. One hears such sounds... and what can one say but... Salieri! Everybody's here and we've got guests. I've got some more. You remember my good friend Schikaneder. Come in! Don't be shy. This is... a very nice girl, and this is too... Yes, my love? These gentlemen are from Salzburg. We were just talking about Salzburg. Your father is dead. So rose... the dreadful ghost, from his next... and blackest opera. There, on the stage, stood the figure of a dead commander. And I knew... only I understood... that the horrifying apparition was Leopold... raised from the dead! Wolfgang had summoned up his own father... to accuse his son before all the world! It was... terrifying and wonderful to watch. And now... the madness began in me. The madness of a man splitting in half. Through my influence, I saw to it... Don Giovanni was played only five times in Vienna. But, in secret, I went to every one of those five. Worshipping sound... l alone seemed to hear. As I stood there, understanding... how that bitter old man still possessed his poor son... even from beyond the grave... l began to see a way... a terrible way... l could finally triumph... over God. I have come to commission work from you. What work? A mass for the dead. What dead? Who's dead? A man who deserved a requiem mass... and never got one. Who are you? I am only a messenger. Do you accept? You'll be well paid. Do you accept? Work fast. And be sure to tell no one what you do. You will see me again soon. My plan was so simple... that it terrified me. First, I must get the death mass, and then... l must achieve his death. What? His funeral! Imagine it! The cathedral... all Vienna sitting there. His coffin... Mozart's little coffin in the middle. And then... in that silence... music! A divine music bursts out over them all. A great mass of death. Requiem mass for Wolfgang Mozart. Composed by his devoted friend... Antonio Salieri. What sublimity! What depth! What passion in the music! Salieri has been touched by God at last... and God forced to listen. Powerless to stop it! l, for once, in the end, laughing at Him! The only thing that worried me... was the actual killing. How does one do that? How does one kill a man? It's one thing... to dream about it. Very different when ------------------------------ Читайте также: - текст Ракетчик на английском - текст Хищник на английском - текст Тысячелетие на английском - текст Свой среди чужих, чужой среди своих на английском - текст Олигарх на английском |