All night — I know not why — I lay and wondered who it could be and what he wanted of me. Next day the same thing happened: the man came; I was not in. The third day — I was playing upon the carpet with my little boy — there came a knock: they called me, and I went; a man, black-coated, with a courteous bow, ordered a Requiem and disappeared. So I sat down at once and started writing. Now from that day to this my man in black has never come again. — Not that I mind. I hate the thought of parting with my work, though now it's done. Yet in the meantime I… Salieri You what? Mozart I'm ashamed to say it. Salieri To say what? Mozart I am haunted by that man, that man in black. He never leaves me day or night. He follows behind me like a shadow. Even now I seem to see him sitting here with us, making a third. Salieri Come, come! what childish terrors! Dispel these hollow fancies, Beaumarchais was wont to say to me: «Look here, old friend, when black thoughts trouble you, uncork a bottle of bright champagne, or reread „Figaro“». Mozart Yes, you and Beaumarchais were boon companions, of course — you wrote «Tarare» for Beaumarchais. A splendid piece — especially one tune — I always find I hum it when I'm gay: ta-ta?, ta-ta?… Salieri, was it true that Beaumarchais once poisoned someone? Salieri No, I doubt it. He was much too droll a fellow for such a trade. Mozart And then he was a genius like you and me. And villainy and genius are two things that don't go together, do they? Salieri You think so? He pours the poison into Mozart's glass. Drink your wine. Mozart Your health, dear friend: here's to the frank and loyal brotherhood of Mozart and Salieri, sons of Music. He drinks. Salieri Wait, wait! You've drunk it off. You've left me out. Mozart (throwing his napkin on the table) Enough: I've eaten. He goes to the piano. Listen to this, Salieri: my Requiem. He plays. Are you weeping? Salieri These are tears
