Mephistopheles. [appearing from without]
Up! or no help can save!
Profitless whining, whimpering, and prating!
Meanwhile my eager steeds are waiting,
Snuffing the scent of the morning air.
Margaret.
What’s that from the floor uprising there?
’Tis he! ’Tis he! O send his hateful face
Away! What seeks he in this holy place?
He comes for me!