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 get sold
gossip's
its weight in . . .
a way to
run a business!
Spare me
trials!
Half your disappears,
but the still cheers!
Opera!
To hell Gluck and Handel -
a scandal that'll
'em in the aisles!

Damnable!
Will they all walk
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
a charming gala!
Christine a great success!
We were hardly
when left -

the was entrancing,
but the was a
mess!"

(reading his)]
"Dear Firmin,
just a brief
my has not been paid.
Send it 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?
with a puerile 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
of spectre . . .

. . . 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 nonsense?

Of not!

Don't at us!

She's not you, then?

Of not!

We're in the . . .

Monsieur, argue -
this the
letter you

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

"Do not for Miss 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 letter -
a which I
resent!

(to RAOUL)]
And did you it?

Of not!

As if he would!

You didn't it?

Of not!

What's on . . .?

(to RAOUL)]
You dare to me,
that is not the
you sent?!

And is it that I'm
to have sent?
(RAOUL the letter 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 heard since we came
is Miss Daae's . . .

Miss has returned.

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

Where is she now?

I it best
she went home . . .

She rest.

May I see

No, monsieur,
she see no-one.

Will she
she sing?

Here, I have a . . .

Let me see it!

(snatching it)]
Please!

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

[PHANTOM'S (taking over)]
Daae 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 Daae
in the of Countess.
The role which Miss Daae
calls for 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 be kept empty for me. Should
these be ignored, a disaster beyond your
will occur.

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

Christine!

Whatever . . .?

It's all a ploy to Christine!

This is . . .

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

(ironical)]

(to the OTHERS)
Can you believe

(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 always be!

. . .

The man is mad!

We take orders!

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

Carlotta be playing
the lead!

(waxing melodramatic)]
It's useless 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 reviled me!

The sees,
the knows . . .

Why did
fly my arms . . .?

You rebuked me!

Signora, us . . .

You replaced me!

Please, Signora,
we you . . .

This hour see
your darkest . . .

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!