Omar.
When all the temple—hic!—is prepared within, why nods the lousy worshipper outside?
[A cock crows, and the sun rises.
Crowd.
[Shouting in unison.] Open then the door. You know how little while we have to stay. And, once departed, goodness only knows when we shall get back again!
Omar.
[Opening the door and appearing unsteadily on the threshold.] You can’t come in. It’s—hic—full.
[Closes door again.
Crowd.