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JOHN
A nightingale here. Well, I never.
Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir,
The nightingales that guard thy ways
Cease not to give thee, after God
And after Paradise, all praise. . .
The infernal place! I wish I had never
seen it! Wonder what set me thinking of
that?
[The nightingale sings another bar.
JOHN turns to his left and walks down the
little path that leads to the door of the
Acacias.]
I mustn't come here. Mustn't come to a
fine house like this. Mustn't. Mustn't.
[He draws near it reluctantly. He puts
his hand to the bell and withdraws it.
Then he rings and snatches his hand away.
He prepares to run away. Finally he rings
it repeatedly, feverishly, violently.
Enter LIZA, opening the door.]
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