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How furiously these burning temples throb! Be still! be still! there's more behind to do; But no more blood: I will not shed her blood. (Knocking at the door.) Who's there?

Are you awake, my Lord?

What dost thou want?

The banquet is prepared, the guests assembled, Your grooms are waiting, and your vestments ready. Will you not please, my Lord, to let them enter?

The guests assembled! Vile bewild'ring dream! I had forgot all this. I must appear.

Will you be pleased, my Lord, to let them enter?

Be still—be still; I'll open to them presently.