can go now.
He needs me.
No, he doesn't. . .
. . .and I don't want you here.
Just go, please.
He asked me to stay.
And I'm asking--
I'm back.
I missed you so much.
If you'd just. . .
. . .show me that you need me.
And I'll try to do better, too.
What is this?
No, Wolfie, not this.
You're not to work on this ever again.
I've decided.
It's not his handwriting.
No, it's mine.
I was assisting him.
He's not to work on this anymore.
It's making him ill.
Good night.
I regret we have no servants
to show you out, Herr Salieri.
Respect my wish and go.
I will respect his.
Your merciful God.
He destroyed his own beloved. . .
. . .rather than let a mediocrity. . .
. . .share in the smallest part
of his glory.
He killed Mozart.
And kept me alive to torture.
32 years of torture.
32 years. . .
. . .of slowly watching myself
become extinct!
My music. . .
. . .growing fainter.
All the time fainter. . .
. . .till no one plays it at all.
And his. . . .
Good morning!
Time for the water closet.
Then we have your favorite breakfast.
Sugar rolls!
He loves those.
Fresh sugar rolls.
I will speak for you, Father.
I speak for all mediocrities in the world.
I am their champion.
I am their patron saint.
Mediocrities everywhere. . .
. . .I absolve you.
I absolve you.
I absolve you all.Mozart!
Mozart!
Forgive your assassin!
I confess, I killed you!
Si, I killed you, Mozart.
Mozart, pietа!
Forgive your assassin!
Forgive me, Mozart!
Signore Salieri,
open the door, be good now!
Signore, we have
something special for you.
Something you' re going to love.
Is that good !
Signore, believe me. . .
. . .this is the most delicious thing
I ever ate in my life!
Really, you don't know
what you' re miss--
All right, that's enough!
Open the door.
Signore, if you don't
open this door. . .
. . .we' re gonna leave nothing
for you.
And I' m never gonna come
see you again!
Good morning, Father.
Herr Salieri?
Leave me alone.
I cannot leave alone a soul in pain.
Do you know who I am?
That makes no difference.
All men are equal in God's eyes.
Are they?
Offer me your confession.
I can offer you God's forgiveness.
How well are you trained in music?
I know a little.
I studied it in my youth.
-Where?
-Here in Vienna.
Then you must know this.
I can't say that I do.
What is it?
It was a very popular tune in its day.
I wrote it.
Here, how about this?
This one brought down the house
when we played it.
Well?
I regret it is not too familiar.
Can you recall no melody of mine?
I was the most famous composer
in Europe.
I wrote 40 operas alone.
Here!
What about this one?
Yes, I know that!
That's charming !
I' m sorry, I didn't know
you wrote that.
I didn't.
That was Mozart.
Wolfgang . . .
. . .Amadeus Mozart.
The man you accuse yourself
of killing .
You've heard that?
Is it true?
For God's sake, my son. . .
. . .if you have something to confess,
do it now.
Give yourself some peace.
He. . .
. . .was my idol.
Mozart.
I can 't think of a time
when I didn't know his name.
I was playing games. . .
. . . when he was playing music
for kings and emperors.
Even the pope in Rome.
I admit, I was jealous. . .
. . . when I heard the tales
they told about him.
Not of the brilliant little prodigy. . .
. . .but of his father,
who had taught him everything.
My father, he did not care for music.
When I told him. . .
. . . how I wished I could be
like Mozart. . .
. . .he would say, ''Why? Do you want
to be a trained monkey?
You 'd like me to drag you around,
doing tricks like a circus freak?''
How could I tell him. . .
. . .what music meant to me?
While my father
prayed earnestly to God. . .
. . . to protect commerce. . .
. . .I would offer up. . .
. . .secretly. . .
. . . the proudest prayer
a boy could think of.
''Lord, make me a great composer.
Let me celebrate your glory
through music. . .
. . .and be celebrated myself.
Make me famous through the