Luyện nghe bài hát Act One

THE CHORUS The chorus has often an unenviable to play,
a distasteful task to perform;
summoned as witness to crime,
the silent accomplice of all,
then she 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 that she must stay and comment on the action...
A young man named lately received an urgent
letter from a friend of childhood,
Roderick by name,
In which his friend begged him to
all speed to the family seat.
So, during the whole of a dull, dark and day
in the of the year,
the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens,
he had been through
a dreary tract of country
'till he himself,
as the shades of night on,
within view of the house of Usher
MONTRESOR: That be the house.
There is no other within miles.
But surely not... It's an empty shell,
of life;
a sterile outcrop of amid the mire.
But there can be no doubt, is the house!
And yet it looks so dark, so , so dead.
That great facade,
windows like vacant eyes
that upon the stagnant,
glistening of the lake...
I have never seen like it!
The gloom, the dankness of the place...
It be my imagination,
the and the cold...
Yet still, far the plane of thought
and quite my will,
my heart begins to
in mad anticipation of the
and I am forced to
a consciousness of
a cold and fear,
nameless, formless, to the bone...
No, it's the leaden air that makes me
forget myself, the and the dusk.
must be all that sets my teeth on edge
and the hairs at the nape of my to attention.
And of his sister?
This not speak of her
but I she, too, lives with him
here in the of Usher,
home of the family for hundred years or more.
a strange place, a strange house,
an stranger clan;
all either or mad,
not an man among them;
all...
But, all as it is,
the Usher race has put no enduring branch.
And so sire to son, from sire to son
the patrimony and the name have passed.
Through all ancestry no cousins,
aunts of
disturb the symmetry
of the tree.
Well then, so I am here; I have
and it is too late, to to run.
But a chilling sight,
this crouching in the night...
Ah, there! A light!
I am awaited; I am
I shall not my friend.
End of Act One