Luyện nghe bài hát Act One

THE CHORUS The chorus has an unenviable role to play,
a distasteful task to perform;
summoned as witness to crime,
she's the silent of all,
she turns and comments on the action.
She hears... observes, but never betray her emotions
She moves, unseen, the oblivion of her presence;
a stage device.
She cannot hide, cannot sides.
It his curse that she must and comment on the action...
A man named Montresor lately received an urgent
letter a dear friend of childhood,
Roderick by name,
In which his friend begged him to
all speed to the family seat.
So, during the of a dull, dark and soundless day
in the of the year,
when the clouds hung low in the heavens,
he had been passing
a dreary tract of country
'till he himself,
as the shades of drew on,
view of the melancholy house of Usher
MONTRESOR: must be the house.
There is no within many miles.
But surely not... It's just an shell,
of life;
a sterile outcrop of stone the mire.
But there can be no doubt, is the house!
And yet it so dark, so forbidding , so dead.
That great facade,
just like vacant eyes
that upon the stagnant,
blackness of the lake...
I have never seen like it!
The gloom, the rotting of the place...
It be my imagination,
the and the cold...
Yet still, far the plane of thought
and quite my will,
my heart to tremble
in mad anticipation of the
and I am forced to
a consciousness of
a and senseless fear,
nameless, formless, to the bone...
No, it's the leaden air that makes me
myself, the weather and the dusk.
This must be all that my teeth on edge
and the hairs at the of my neck to attention.
And what of his
This does not of her
but I understand she, too, with him
here in the of Usher,
home of the family for five hundred or more.
a strange place, a strange house,
an even stranger
all either or mad,
not an ordinary man among
all...
But, all as it is,
the Usher has put forth no enduring branch.
And so from sire to son, from to son
the patrimony and the name been passed.
all their ancestry no cousins,
aunts of
the singular symmetry
of the tree.
then, so I am here; I have come;
and it is too late, to to run.
But what a sight,
this crouching in the night...
Ah, there! A light!
I am I am expected;
I shall not my friend.
End of Act One