Ficsur
No. [Feeling for the knife under Liliom's coat.] Where is it? Where did you put it? Liliom [Stonily.] Left side. Ficsur That's right—over your heart. [Feels it.] Ah—there it is—there—there's the blade—quite a big fellow, isn't it—ah, here it begins to get narrower. [Reaches the tip of the knife.] And here is its eye—that's what it sees with. [Julie enters from the kitchen, passes them slowly, watching them in silent terror, then stops. Ficsur nudges Liliom.] Sing, come on, sing! Liliom [In a quavering voice.]
"Look out for the damn police."
Ficsur [Joining in, cheerily, loudly, marking time with the swaying of his body.]
"Look out, look out, my pretty lad."
Liliom "—look out, my pretty lad." [Julie goes out at back. Liliom's glance follows her. When she has
