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s it not that Heartwell at Sylvia's door? Be gone quickly, I'll follow you--I would not be known. Pox take 'em, they stand just in my way. SCENE II. 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. SCENE III. BELLMOUR, LUCY. BELL. Humph, sits the wind there? What a lucky rogue am I! Oh, what sport will be here, if I can persuade this wench to secrecy! LUCY. Sir: reverend sir. BELL. Madam. [_Discovers himself_.] LUCY. Now, goodness have mercy upon me! Mr. Bellmour! is it you? BELL. Even I. What dost think? LUCY. Think! That I should not believe my eyes, and that you are not what you seem to be. BELL. True. But to convince thee who I am, thou knowest my old token. [_Kisses her_.] LUCY. Nay, Mr. Bellmour: O Lard! I believe you are a parson in good earnest, you kiss so devoutly. BELL. Well, your business with me, Lucy? LUCY. I had none, but through mistake. BELL. Which mistake you must go through with, Lucy. Come, I know the intrigue between Heartwell and your mistress; and you mistook me for Tribulation Spintext, to marry 'em--Ha? are not matters in this posture? Confess: come, I'll be faithful; I will, i'faith. What! diffide in me, Lucy? LUCY. Alas-a-day! You and Mr. Vainlove, between you, have ruined my poor mistress: you have made a gap in her reputation; and can you blame her if she make it up with a husband? BELL. Well, is it as I say? LUCY. Well, it is then: but you'll be secret? BELL. Phuh, secret, ay. And to be out of thy debt, I'll trust thee with another secret. Your mistress must not marry Heartwell, Lucy. LUCY. How! O Lord! BELL. Nay, don't be in passion, Lucy:--I'll provide a fitter husband for her. Come, here's earnest of my good intentions for thee too; let this mollify. [_Gives her money_.] Look you, Heartwell is my friend; and though he be blind, I must not see him fall into the snare, and unwittingly marry a whore. LUCY. Whore! I'd have you to know my mistress scorns-- BELL. Nay, nay: look you, Lucy; there a
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