NAVARRE. Thou traitor Guise, lay of thy bloudy hands.

CONDY. Come let us goe tell the King.

Exeunt [Condy and Navarre].

GUISE. Come sirs, Ile whip you to death with my punniards point.

He kils them.

ANJOY. Away with them both.

Exit Anjoy [and soldiers with bodies].

GUISE. And now sirs for this night let our fury stay.
Yet will we not the Massacre shall end:
Gonzago posse you to Orleance, Retes to Deep,
Mountsorrell unto Roan, and spare not one
That you suspect of heresy. And now stay
That bel that to the devils mattins rings.
Now every man put of his burgonet,
And so convey him closely to his bed.

Exeunt.





[Scene viii]