Luyện nghe bài hát Notes...

"Mystery
after night,"
if says, "Mystery
of flight!"
"Mystified
Surete say,
we are -
we foul play!"
Bad on
soprano -
Carlotta,
now Christine!
Still, at
the get sold
gossip's
its weight in . . .
a way to
run a business!
Spare me
trials!
Half your disappears,
but the crowd cheers!
Opera!
To hell Gluck and Handel -
It's a scandal
'em in the aisles!

Damnable!
Will they all out?
is damnable!

Andre, please shout . . .
publicity!
And the is vast!
publicity!

But we have no . . .

(calmly)]
But Andre,
have you seen the
Oh, it
got one too . . .

"Dear
what a gala!
Christine a great success!
We were hardly
when left -

the was entrancing,
but the was a
mess!"

(reading his)]
"Dear Firmin,
just a reminder:
my has not been paid.
it care of the ghost,
by of post
P.T.O.:
No-one a debtor,
so it's if my
are obeyed!"

Who would the gall
to this?
Someone with a brain!

[FIRMIN (examining letters)]
are both signed "O.G." . . .

Who the is he?

(immediately realizing)]
ghost!

(unamused)]
It's not amusing!

He's
our position!

In
he money!

He's a
sort of . . .

. . . to a
retainer!
Nothing -
he is clearly insane!

Where is

You mean

I mean Daae -
is she?

Well, how should we

I an answer -
I take it you sent me this note?

What's all nonsense?

Of not!

Don't at us!

She's not with you,

Of not!

We're in the . . .

Monsieur, don't -
this the
letter you

And what is it, we're
to have wrote?
(Realizing his mistake)
Written!

"Do not fear for Daae.
The of Music
has her his wing.
no attempt to see her again."

If you write it, who did?

is he?

Ah, back!

Your patron -
is he?

What is it

(to RAOUL)]
I have your -
a letter I
resent!

(to RAOUL)]
And did you it?

Of not!

As if he would!

You send it?

Of not!

What's on . . .?

(to RAOUL)]
You to tell me,
this is not the
you sent?!

And is it that I'm
meant to sent?
(RAOUL the letter and reads it)
"Your
at the Populaire are numbered.
Daae
will be singing on behalf tonight.
Be
for a misfortune,
you attempt
to her place."

Far too
notes for my -
and most of
Christine!
All we've since we came
is Miss Daae's . . .

Miss has returned.

(drily)]
I trust her oil
is and truly burned.

Where is she now?

I thought it
that she went . . .

She rest.

May I see

No, monsieur,
she see no-one.

Will she
Will she

Here, I have a . . .

Let me see it!

(snatching it)]
Please!

[FIRMIN (Opens the letter and reads. The
voice lakes over)]
"Gentlemen, I now sent you several notes of the
most amiable nature, how my theatre is to be
run. You have not my instructions.
I shall give you one chance . . ."

VOICE (taking over)]
Christine Daae has to you,
and I am anxious her
progress.
In the new of "Il Muto",
you will therefore Carlotta
as the Pageboy, and put Miss
in the of Countess.
The role Miss Daae plays
for charm and appeal.
The role of the is silent -
makes my casting,
in a
ideal.
I shall watch the from my normal seat in
Box Five, which will be kept empty for me.
these commands be ignored, a beyond your
imagination occur.

(taking over)]
"I remain, Gentlemen,
Your servant, O.G."

Christine!

Whatever . . .?

It's all a ploy to Christine!

This is . . .

I know who sent
(pointing an finger)
The - her lover!

(ironical)]

(to the OTHERS)
Can you this?

(to CARLOTTA, in protest)]
Signora!

[CARLOTTA (half to the MANAGERS, to herself)]
O traditori!

(to CARLOTTA)]
is a joke!

This nothing!

O mentitori!

Signora!

You are our star!

And will be!

. . .

The man is mad!

We don't orders!

(announcing it to EVERYONE)]
Miss will be playing
the - the silent role . . .

Carlotta be playing
the lead!

(waxing melodramatic)]
It's trying to
me!
You're only this
to me!
Signori, e
Non, non, non udire!
morire!
O mio!
Dio!

Who his word,
beware to . . .

(to MANAGERS)]
You have me!

The sees,
the angel . . .

Why did
fly my arms . . .?

You have me!

Signora, us . . .

You replaced me!

Please, Signora,
we you . . .

This hour see
your fears . . .

I see her . . .

Abbandonata!
Deseredata!
O, sventurata!

The knows,
the hears . . .

did she go . . .?

Abbandonata!
Disgraziata!

Signora, for us!
be a martyr . . .

What new
lie in . . .?

Our . . .!

Non vo' cantar!