Luyện nghe bài hát Act Three

(Immediately afterwards, Usher enters, in a trance)
MADELINE Carriages at
I shall wear the flower he me
It's so cold
beneath the lapping water...
The
The
My
Head his shoulder,
'cross the lawn I the music...
blackness,
In the lake I'm slowly...
Oh, how lovely,
nothing be more becoming...
Underwater,
in the icy darkness...
Count the
'May I dance you this evening?'...
On the
are feeding high above me...
Hold him
round and round the floor spinning
Breathing
I am
the sun rise
driving across the meadows...
All is
I can feel myself
The
The
The
The
My
Head against his
Floating in the icy
Hold him
I can myself dissolving
Oh how
Deep beneath the water
Count the
I am drowning I am
Count the
Floating in the icy
Hold him
I can feel dissolving
Oh how
beneath the lapping water
Count the
I am
Oh how
I am I am drowning
Oh how
Oh how
Oh how
Stop, Madeline, look at me!
My god, man, what is wrong her?
USHER Yes, it's right you know,
She is dying!
I have not to speak of it.
A chronic catalepsy had her of her youth.
I have watched her away and could do nothing!
A period of health is by sudden coma,
sleep.
It can a full day or more,
no movement, no colour, no in the cheeks.
MONTRESOR What, then of these dreaming
USHER The recovery, ah, is even worse!
She rises and moves the house
but her mind sleeps...
You see her now a mindless
Beautiful, dead eyes in sleep, unrecognising.
She speaks in dreams, sees dreams,
she haunts the house in sleepwalking
and may not be restrained, for some automaton
she thrusts and tears herself
her fetters,
of injury.
And so she walks and she wakes,
remembering nothing, so that she can
barely build up strength before she is down again.
Month after month attack worse than the last.
will not wait long.
Her days are flickering past.
God,
helpless,
helpless!
MONTRESOR But what is the word her doctors?
Do they hold out no hope, nor offer any
MONTRESOR CHORUS
They do not
her
and cannot treat a
they do not
He does not
dealing with a case
Who is her doctor,
a specialist I
Yes indeed, one of
the rank
You're
with a
Then he help her,
oh, yes,
no more of this he surely must You do not
now
no more talk He not
of cures, please,
Or of doctor.
I you concern,
but that she
will no more tonight.
When she soon
she will my care.
I be there, so,
friend, goodnight.
(Usher exits with Madeline, leaving alone. The Herbalist enters)
THE Good evening, sir.
And you must be the friend of Usher.
I'm so to meet you, sir,
but have little time to
for knowledge as mine is wanted everywhere.
In poor dwellings, yes, but some as as Usher's.
My card...
'J. Ducrow, Esq. Herbalist,
Doctor of Medicine'...
At you service, and it could be, sir,
that you have need of my now...
I have Mandrake juice will slake any fever,
to convince you though you be an unbeliever now...
Laugh - would - at these seeds of mine.
You question the causes,
but and Reason do not answer,
and Nature her courses.
I purest poppy for the soundest of sleeps;
a pure cake of hemp
that's a surcease of worldly sorrow.
words will be believed
if perfumed by pastil,
or my guaranteed
to the will of fairest womankind.
Scheme, you, for a worldly gain?
Lust after a frigid
My herbs can your secret cravings
and my is modest!
No! No!
HERBALIST And my is modest...
MONTRESOR No, you! No!
HERBALIST Oh it's modest...
MONTRESOR No, no you!
No!
No you,
No!
Perhaps a poultice of Toadbane
for weakness of the parts,
by too much wine or age,
perhaps by over-frequent indulgence...
Applied with skill, it
revive the passions of a corpse...
...of a
I said no
I no!
HERBALIST then, Good-day...
MONTRESOR So that is Usher's of a doctor!
That wretched mountebank help them.
I confront madness to face!
And whatever cause, it lies within this place
I breathe an of sorrow;
an alien despair makes my fail,
like the of an opium vision,
the dropping of the veil
CHORUS by a thousand doubts and fancies,
he not sleep tonight.
Chilled by the of his surroundings,
mortal, mortar.
MONTRESOR

He not sleep!
I see simple
He not sleep!
State them and clear,
but the of the House He will not sleep!
'Unreason!'
The one that I fear.
The evil is done
be undone.
The evil will come
be prevented.
The evil is done
Yet somehow I must
two tormented souls,
be undone.
for if I cannot, who
The evil that will
are the friends
I've so dearly...
be prevented
Leave!
No! What a thought!
Depart!
How could I even of it!
Go!
Abandon who have need of me!
Leave!
Oh, but a temptation,
Depart!
to run like a in the night,
Go!
And yet now I
because it is too Before it is too late,
I feel myself bound up in before you are up in
the web of fear and pain, the web of and pain,
the evil surrounds me. the evil that surrounds you.
It be undone.
It be undone.
The evil will come
be prevented.
End of Act