Ludwig van Beethoven: It is the power of music to carry one directly into the mental state of the composer. Anton Felix Schindler: Do you know the name Ludwig van Beethoven? Frau Streicher: The composer? Anton Felix Schindler: Yes. Frau Streicher: I knew him. Anton Felix Schindler: Did he ever stay here? Frau Streicher: Are you a policeman? Anton Felix Schindler: No. Frau Streicher: Then I will not answer your questions. Anton Felix Schindler: Oh, please, I'm trying to conclude his affairs. Frau Streicher: Ah, van Beethoven is dead? Anton Felix Schindler: Alas, yes. Frau Streicher: Best thing for him. He was a terrible man. Anton Felix Schindler: Then he stayed here? Anton Felix Schindler: There can be no peace without the truth. Ludwig van Beethoven: [completely deaf, he is watching musicians perform his "Kreutzer" violin sonata] I can't hear them, but I know that they are making a hash of it. Ludwig van Beethoven: [startled to discover he has been tricked into playing piano for people observing him behind the wall] It is terrible, terrible for you to rob me in this way of my most treasured feelings! Ludwig van Beethoven: [sitting secluded in a darkened corner, Miss Guiccardi does not notice him at first] Hello. Giulietta Guicciardi: [startled, she doesn't realize who she is speaking to] Oh... I didn't see you. I have to go back. [she turns to leave] Ludwig van Beethoven: [he gets up] Oh... you are leaving me to go back to that ass who plays like a kitchen maid, all clipped and staccato. Giulietta Guicciardi: This music is beautiful. Ludwig van Beethoven: You must be Guilia Guiccardi. I hear there's quite a contest for your charms. Giulietta Guicciardi: Sir you're rude and offensive. I'm leaving. [she begins to walk away] Ludwig van Beethoven: [calling after her] Do you play the piano? Giulietta Guicciardi: [she stops] What? Ludwig van Beethoven: I intend to be your teacher. I will call for you tomorrow at 10:00. Giulietta Guicciardi:
[laughs as she walks away]
You will be barred from the house. Ludwig van Beethoven: [Miss Guiccardi's first piano lesson. She is playing, poorly, a little minuet. She errs, and begins pounding on the keyboard, perhaps to gets some kind of reaction from Beethoven. He says nothing until he realizes she has stopped. He gives his critique] You think that because I do not stop you, that I am not listening. [She sighs in agreeance] Ludwig van Beethoven: The manner in which you thump out the notes without the slightest thought as to their meaning is unforgivable. And your lack of passion is unforgivable. I shall have to beat you. [she offers her hand for punishment, rolling her eyes. He gives her a hard, painful slap] Ludwig van Beethoven: Music is... a dreadful thing. Ludwig van Beethoven: [Beethoven looks up from his manuscripts slowly and turns toward Johanna and mutters his last words] The comedy is over.