And longer had she sung, but with a frown
The Duke impatient rose,
He threw his artful mask in fury down,
And with a withering look,
Of Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan and Grey he took
The lives: and bid his hellish agents do
A deed so horrible and dread—
Ne’er were half-stifled shrieks so full of woe,
As when the fell assassins press’d
Against each struggling infant’s breast;