[Exeunt.
Enter Margaret, with a lamp.
Margaret.
It is so sultry here, so hot! [She opens the window.]
And yet so warm without ’tis not.
I feel—I know not how—oppressed;
Would to God that my mother came!
A shivering cold runs o’er my frame—
I’m but a silly timid girl at best!
[While taking off her clothes, she sings.]