[Exit Count, with his Attendants.
Theod. Insolence!
Too proud to thank our kindness! yet, what horror
Shook all his frame, when thus I stood before him!
Aust. The statue of thy grandsire
(The very figure as thou stood'st before him,
Arm'd just as thou art), seem'd to move, and live;
That breathing marble, which the people's love
Rear'd near his tomb, within our convent's walls.
Anon I'll lead thee to it.