Its tyrant, chill thee?
Theod. Awe, nor fear, I know not,
And trust, shall never; for I know not guilt.
Count. Then thou, it seems, art master here, not I;
Thou canst control my projects, blast my schemes,
And turn to empty air my power in Narbonne.
Nay, should my daughter chuse to fly my castle,
Against my bidding, guards and bolts were vain:
This frize-clad champion, gallant Theodore,