FAUST [unlocking]
She does not dream her lover listens near;
That he the rattling chain, the rustling straw, can hear.
MARGARET [hiding herself on the pallet]
Woe! woe! They come. O death of bitterness!
FAUST [whispering]
Hush! hush! The hour is come that frees thee.
MARGARET [throwing herself before him]
Art thou a man? then pity my distress!
FAUST