Through the loud-laughing scorn and the fiendish uproar,
Came the sweet voice of love that I know so well.
Faust.
’Tis I!
Margaret.
’Tis thou! O say it yet again! [Clasping him.]
’Tis he! ’tis he! Where now is all my pain?
Where all my prison’s woe? my fetters where?
’Tis he! he comes to lift me from this lair
Of wretchedness! I’m free, I’m free!