The massacre of Paris a tragedy : as it is acted at the Theatre Royal by their majesties servants / written by Nat. Lee ...

SCENA ULTIMA.

The LOVVRE.

Queen Mother, Cardinal, Duke of Anjou, Colonel D'O.

Q. M.

Here Colonel bring forth your Prisoners, And let me see these Leaders of the Faction.

[The Scene draws, showing the Commanders standing with their hands ty'd behind 'em betwixt the Souldiers in a rank▪

The Count de Rochfaucalt, Marquis de Renel, Piles, Pluvialt, Pardillan, and Lavardin.

Give the Word Colonel.

D'O.

Fire on 'em all.

[Shoot.]

The Scene draws, and shews the Admiral's Body burning.

Gui.

I saw the Master Villain dragg'd along To Execution, by the Common People, Who from the Shoulders tore the mangled Head, Cut off his Hands, and at Mountfaucon hung him, Half burning, by one Leg upon the Gallows.

Enter King, Princes, Alberto Gondi.

King.

O horror! horror! O thou cruel Guise! O Mother! Brother! and thou Murd'ring Priest! Dost thou not blush to fail in Seas of ruin, To hang the Flag of a Damn'd Pyrat forth, Yet call thy bloody Bark the Christian Church? Or, tell me, Canst thou lay the Furies here, Pale Hugonots that haunt me up and down Through Chambers, into Closets, Beds, and Couches? Or dar'st thou shield me, when the Admiral's Ghost Claps to my Heart the Dagger of my Word?

Q. M.

Why are you thus?

King.

The Angel's words are true, And Charles is near his end. O Mother! Mother! Hear my last words, and take my dying Counsel, Stop the vast Murder that you have begun; For know, all Churches by Decree and Doctrine, Kings by their Sword and Balance of their Justice, All Learning, Christian, Moral, and Prophane, Shall by the virtue of their Mercury Rod For ever damn to Hell those curs'd Designs That with Religion's Face to ruin tend, And go by Heav'n to reach the blackest end▪

[Exeunt Omnes.

FINIS.