Luyện nghe bài hát Notes...

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

Damnable!
Will they all walk
is damnable!

Andre, don't 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!
enjoyed a great success!
We were hardly
when left -

the was entrancing,
but the was a
mess!"

(reading his)]
"Dear Firmin,
just a brief
my salary has not paid.
Send it of the ghost,
by return of
P.T.O.:
likes a debtor,
so it's if my
are obeyed!"

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

[FIRMIN (examining letters)]
These are both "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 -
where is

Well, how we know?

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

What's all this

Of not!

Don't at us!

She's not with you,

Of not!

We're in the . . .

Monsieur, don't -
Isn't the
you wrote?

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

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

If you didn't it, who did?

is he?

Ah, back!

Your patron -
is he?

What is it

(to RAOUL)]
I have letter -
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 dare to me,
that is not the
you sent?!

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

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

Miss has returned.

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

Where is she now?

I thought it
she went home . . .

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 gradually over)]
"Gentlemen, I have now sent you notes of the
most amiable nature, detailing how my is to be
run. You have not my instructions.
I shall give you one last . . ."

[PHANTOM'S (taking over)]
Christine has returned to you,
and I am her career
progress.
In the new of "Il Muto",
you will therefore cast
as the Pageboy, and put Miss
in the of Countess.
The which Miss Daae plays
for charm and appeal.
The of the Pageboy is silent -
makes my casting,
in a
ideal.
I shall watch the performance from my seat in
Box Five, which will be empty for me. Should
these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond
imagination occur.

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

Christine!

Whatever . . .?

It's all a to help 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 take orders!

(announcing it to EVERYONE)]
Miss Daae be playing
the Pageboy - the silent . . .

Carlotta be playing
the lead!

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

Who his word,
to those . . .

(to MANAGERS)]
You have me!

The sees,
the angel . . .

Why did
fly from my . . .?

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!