[The organ sounds.
Evil Spirit.
Terror doth seize thee!
The trumpet sounds!
The graves quake!
And thy heart,
From its rest of ashes,
To fiery pain
Created again,
Quivers to life!
Margaret.
Would I were hence!
I feel as if the organ stopped
My breath,
And, at the hymn,
My inmost heart
Melted away!
Quire.
Judex ergo cum sedebit,
Quidquid latet adparebit,
Nil inultum remanebit.
Margaret.
I feel so straitened!
The pillar shafts
Enclasp me round!
The vault
Is closing o’er me!—Air!
Evil Spirit.
Yea! let them hide thee! but thy sin and shame
No vault can hide!
Air? Light? No!
Woe on thee! woe!
Quire.
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus?
Quem patronum rogaturus?
Cum vix justus sit securus.
Evil Spirit.
The blessèd turn
Their looks away,
And the pure shudder