Count. My good fellows, where?
1 Offi. Here, from this spot, you may yourself behold her;
Her face is towards the altar.
Count. [Looking out.] Blasts upon me!
Wither my eyes for ever!—Ay, 'tis she;
Austin with Theodore; he joins their hands:—
Destruction seize them! O dull, tardy fool!
My love, and my ambition, both defeated!
A marriage in my sight! Come forth! come forth!
[Draws a Dagger.