Luyện nghe bài hát Notes...

"Mystery
after night,"
if says, "Mystery
of flight!"
"Mystified
Surete say,
we are -
we suspect play!"
Bad on
soprano -
Carlotta,
now Christine!
Still, at
the seats get
worth
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 the queue?
Oh, it
got one too . . .

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

the was entrancing,
but the was a
mess!"

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

Who have the gall
to send
Someone a puerile brain!

[FIRMIN (examining letters)]
These are 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 Miss Daae -
is she?

Well, how should we

I an answer -
I take it you sent 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, argue -
Isn't the
letter you

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

"Do not for Miss Daae.
The Angel of
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 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
meant to have
(RAOUL the letter and reads it)
"Your
at the Populaire are numbered.
Christine
will be singing on your tonight.
Be
for a misfortune,
should you
to her place."

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

Miss has returned.

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

Where is she now?

I it best
that she went . . .

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

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

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

Christine!

Whatever . . .?

It's all a to help 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 don't orders!

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

Carlotta will be
the lead!

(waxing melodramatic)]
It's useless 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 my arms . . .?

You have me!

Signora, us . . .

You have 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!
Don't be a . . .

What new
lie in . . .?

Our . . .!

Non vo' cantar!