your mind to commit murder: well, do it and have done with it.

BURGOYNE. Mr. Dudgeon: we are only doing this--

RICHARD. Because you're paid to do it.

SWINDON. You insolent-- (He swallows his rage.)

BURGOYNE (with much charm of manner). Ah, I am really sorry that
you should think that, Mr. Dudgeon. If you knew what my
commission cost me, and what my pay is, you would think better of
me. I should be glad to part from you on friendly terms.

RICHARD. Hark ye, General Burgoyne. If you think that I like
being hanged, you're mistaken. I don't like it; and I don't mean
to pretend that I do. And if you think I'm obliged to you for
hanging me in a gentlemanly way, you're wrong there too. I take
the whole business in devilish bad part; and the only
satisfaction I have in it is that you'll feel a good deal meaner
than I'll look when it's over. (He turns away, and is striding to
the cart when Judith advances and interposes with her arms
stretched out to him. Richard, feeling that a very little will
upset his self-possession, shrinks from her, crying) What are you
doing here? This is no place for you. (She makes a gesture as if
to touch him. He recoils impatiently.) No: go away, go away;
you'll unnerve me. Take her away, will you?

JUDITH. Won't you bid me good-bye?

RICHARD (allowing her to take his hand). Oh good-bye, good-bye.