Bellmour, Heartwell, Lucy.

HEART.  I’m impatient till it be done.

LUCY.  That may be, without troubling yourself to go again for your brother’s chaplain.  Don’t you see that stalking form of godliness?

HEART.  O ay; he’s a fanatic.

LUCY.  An executioner qualified to do your business.  He has been lawfully ordained.

HEART.  I’ll pay him well, if you’ll break the matter to him.

LUCY.  I warrant you.—Do you go and prepare your bride.