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Mozart and Salieri

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Школа кожевенного мастерства: сумки, ремни своими руками
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  Scene I
  
  Room.
  
  Salieri
  
  All say: there is no truth on earth.
  But there is no truth higher. For me
  It"s clear as a simple scale.
  I was born with love for art;
  Being a child, when high was ringing
  The organ in our ancient church,
  I listened and was absorbed in listening - tears
  Involuntary and sweet ran.
  Idle amusements I rejected early;
  Sciences, alien to music, were
  Repellent to me; obstinately and arrogantly
  I renounced them and devoted
  Myself to music only. Hard is the first step
  And boring is the first way. I overcame
  The early hardships. The craft
  I had set as the foot for the art;
  I became a craftsman: to the fingers
  I gave obedient, dry quickness
  And accuracy to the ear. Having killed sounds,
  Music I ate through, like a corpse. I checked
  Harmony with algebra. Then
  I already dared, experienced in the science,
  To indulge in the delight of a creative dream.
  I started to create, but in silence, but in secret,
  Not daring yet to think of fame.
  Not seldom, having been sitting up in a silent cell
  Two, three days, having forgotten sleep and food,
  Having enjoyed raptures and tears of inspiration,
  I was burning my work and coldly watching,
  How my thought and sounds, born by me,
  Blazing, were disappearing with light smoke.
  What do I say? When the great Gluck
  Appeared and revealed to us new mysteries
  (The deep, captivating mysteries),
  Did I not dropped all what I had known before,
  What so much loved, in what so ardently believed,
  And whether not went lively after him
  Submissively, like one who lost his way
  And by another was sent in a different direction?
  With forceful strenuous constancy
  I"d finally in the boundless art
  Achieved a high degree. Fame
  smiled to me; I in the hearts of men
  Found a consonance with my creations.
  I was happy: I enjoyed peacefully
  My work, success, fame: also
  Works and achievements of the friends,
  My comrades in the wonderful art.
  No! Never had I known envy,
  O, never! - Neither when Piccinni
  Managed to captivate the ear of savage Parisians,
  Nor when I heard for the first time
  The Iphigénie"s1 opening sounds.
  Who"d say that Salieri proud has ever been
  An envier despicable,
  A snake by people trampled, alive
  Sand and dust biting powerlessly?
  None!.. But now - I say myself - I"m now
  An envier. I envy; deeply,
  Painfully envy. - O heaven!
  Where is justice, when the sacred gift,
  When the immortal genius - not in reward
  To ardent love, selflessness,
  Toil, diligence, prayers was sent -
  But illuminates the head of a madman,
  An idle reveler?.. O Mozart, Mozart!
  
  Mozart enters.
  
  Mozart
  Aha! you"ve seen! I wanted
  to treat you to an unexpected joke.
  
  Salieri
  You here! - For how long?
  
  Mozart
   Now. I was going to you,
  Brought something to show you;
  But, walking by a tavern, suddenly
  I heard a violin... No, my friend Salieri!
  Anything funnier in all your born days
  You"ve not heard... A blind fiddler in the tavern
  Performed voi che sapete2. Miracle!
  I couldn"t resist, I"ve brought the fiddler,
  So as to treat you to his art.
  Come in!
  
  The blind old man with the violin enters.
  
   Something from Mozart for us!
  
  The old man plays an area from Don Giovanni;
  Mozart laughs.
  
  Salieri
  And you can laugh?
  
  Mozart
   Ah, Salieri!
  Can it be yourself you aren"t laughing?
  
  Salieri
   No!
  I do not laugh when a dauber worthless
  Soils for me Rafael"s Madonna,
  I do not laugh when a buffoon disgustful
  With a parody abuses Alighieri.
  Go away, old man.
  
  Mozart
   Wait: here is for you,
  Drink to my health.
  
  The old man leaves.
  
   You, Salieri,
  Are out of spirits now. I"ll come to you
  At another time.
  
   Salieri
  What have you brought to me?
  
  Mozart
  No - nothing; a trifle. The other night
  Insomnia was wearying me,
  And two, three thoughts came to my head.
  Today I put them down. I wanted
  To hear your opinion; but now
  You aren"t in the mood for me.
  
  Salieri
   Ah, Mozart, Mozart!
  When am I not for you? Sit down;
  I am listening.
  
  Mozart
  (at the piano)
  
   Picture to yourself... who?
  Well, take me - a little younger;
  In love - not too much but slightly -
  With a beauty or with a friend - with you for instance,
  I"m cheerful... Suddenly: a deathly apparition,
  Sudden darkness or something like that...
  Well, listen.
   (Plays.)
  
  Salieri
   You were going to me with this
  And could stop at the tavern
  And listen to the blind fiddler! - God!
  You, Mozart, are unworthy of yourself.
  
  Mozart
  So, is it good?
  
  Salieri
   What a depth!
  What daring and what harmony!
  You, Mozart, are a god, and know not that yourself;
  I know, I.
  
  Mozart
   Oh! really? maybe...
  But the deity of mine is hungry.
  
  Salieri
  Look: let us dine together
  At the tavern of Golden Lion.
  
  Mozart
   Rather;
  I"m glad. But let me go home to tell
  My wife so that she won"t be expecting me
  For dinner.
  (Leaves.)
  
  Salieri
   I"m waiting for you; watch it.
  No! I can"t oppose my dole,
  My fate: I"m chosen to stop him
  Or else we all shall perish,
  We all, priests, servants of music,
  Not I alone with my deaf fame...
  What profit if Mozart will be alive
  And yet achieve a newer height?
  Will he raise the art by this? No;
  It will fall again as he disappears:
  He won"t leave us a heir.
  What profit is in him? Like a cherub,
  He brought to us several heavenly songs,
  In order to, having disturbed the wingless longing,
  In us, children of dust, fly away after!
  Then fly away! the sooner, the better.
  
  Here is the poison, the last gift of my Isora.
  Eighteen years I carry it on me -
  And often life has seemed to me since then
  An intolerable wound, and I sat often
  With the careless enemy over a meal,
  And never to the whisper of temptation
  Have I bowed, although I am not a coward,
  Although offence I feel deeply,
  Although little I love life. Still I"ve been lingering.
  How thirst for death tormented me,
  Why die? I deemed: perhaps, life
  Would bring me sudden gifts;
  Perhaps, I would be visited by delight
  And a creative night, and inspiration;
  Perhaps, a new Haydn would create
  The great - and I would enjoy it...
  How I feasted with the hated guest,
  Perhaps, I deemed, the evilest enemy
  I"d find; perhaps, the evilest offence
  Would burst upon me from a proud height -
  Then you shall not be wasted, the gift of Isora.
  And I was right! and finally I"ve found
  My enemy, and the new Haydn
  Has marvelously intoxicated me with delight!
  Now it"s time! the cherished gift of love,
  Pass today into the cup of friendship.
  
  
  
  Scene II
  
  A separate room at the tavern; piano.
  Mozart and Salieri at table.
  
  Salieri
  Why are you gloomy today?
  
  Mozart
   I? No!
  
  Salieri
  You must be, Mozart, upset with something?
  The dinner is good, the wine is fine,
  But you are keeping silent and frowning.
  
  Mozart
   To confess,
  My Requiem is troubling me.
  
  Salieri
   Ah!
  You are composing a Requiem? For how long?
  
  Mozart
  Long, about three weeks. But a strange incident...
  Did I not tell you?
  Salieri
   No.
  
  Mozart
   Then listen.
  Some three weeks ago, I came home late.
  I was told that someone came
  For me. Why - I do not know,
  All night I was thinking: who must have been it?
  And what did he want me for? The next day the same
  Came and didn"t catch me in again.
  On the third day I was playing on the floor
  With my boy. They called me;
  I came out. A man, dressed in black,
  Having bowed politely, ordered
  Me a Requiem and disappeared. I sat down at once
  And began to write - and since then
  My black man haven"t come for me;
  But I am glad: I would be sorry to part
  With my work, though quite ready
  Is the Requiem. But meanwhile I...
  
  Salieri
   What?
  
  Mozart
  I am ashamed to confess to that...
  
  Salieri
   To what?
  
  Mozart
  Day and night gives no rest to me
  My black man. After me everywhere
  As a shadow he"s chasing. Here now
  It seems to me, he himself the third
  Is sitting with us.
  
  Salieri
   Never mind! what a childish fear?
  Dispel the empty thought. Beaumarchais
  Used to say to me: "Listen, brother Salieri,
  When black thoughts come to you,
  Uncork a bottle of champagne
  Or reread The marriage of Figaro".
  
  Mozart
  Yes! Beaumarchais was indeed your pal;
  You composed "Tarare"3 for him,
  A nice piece. There is one tune...
  I"m always humming it when I am happy...
  La la la la... Ah, is it true, Salieri,
  That Beaumarchais poisoned somebody?
  
  Salieri
  I don"t think: he was too humorous
  For such a trade.
  
  Mozart
   He"s after all a genius,
  Like you and me. And genius and villainy -
  Two things incompatible. Isn"t it?
  
  Salieri
  You think?
   (Drops the poison into Mozart"s glass.)
   Now, drink.
  
  Mozart
   To your
  Health, friend, to the candid union
  Binding Mozart and Salieri,
  Two sons of harmony.
  (Drinks.)
  
  Salieri
   Wait,
  Wait, wait!.. You"ve drunk!.. without me?
  
  Mozart
   (throws the napkin on the table)
  Enough, I"m full.
   (Goes to the piano.)
   Listen, Salieri,
  My Requiem.
   (Plays.)
   You crying?
  
  Salieri
   These tears
  For the first time I"m shedding: and painfully and pleasantly,
  As though I have fulfilled a heavy duty,
  As though a knife curative has cut off
  A suffering limb to me! Friend Mozart, these tears...
  Ignore them. Continue, hurry
  To fill some more my soul with sounds...
  
  Mozart
  If only all felt so the force
  Of harmony! But no: then the world
  Could not exist; nobody would
  Care about the needs of base life;
  All would indulge in a free art.
  There are few of us chosen, lucky idle men,
  Neglecting contemptible profit,
  Priests of the beautiful alone.
  Isn"t it? But I am unwell today,
  I"m feeling somewhat heavy; I"ll go to sleep
  Good bye!
  
  Salieri
  Good bye.
  (Alone.)
   You shall sleep
  For long, Mozart! But really is he right,
  And I am no genius? Genius and villainy
  Are two things incompatible. It is not true:
  But Buonarroti? or is it a fairy tale
  Of the stupid, senseless mob - and was not
  A murderer the creator of Vatican?4
  
  1830
  
  
  1"Iphigénie en Tauride", an opera by Gluck
  2 o, you, who know (itl.). - The aria of Cherubino from the 3d act of Mozart"s opera "The marriage of Figaro".
  3 An opera by Salieri to a libretto by Beaumarchais.
  4A legend exists that Michelangelo killed the model in order to depict dying Christ more naturally.
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