[125] Sec. Murd. ’Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward.
[♦] First Murd. Where is thy conscience now?
[♦] Sec. Murd. In the Duke of Gloucester’s purse.
[♦] First Murd. So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy conscience flies out.
[130] Sec. Murd. Let it go; there’s few or none will entertain it.
[♦] First Murd. How if it come to thee again?
[♦] Sec. Murd. I’ll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but [♦] it accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it checks him; he [135] cannot lie with his neighbour’s wife, but it detects him: it is [♦] a blushing shamefast spirit that mutinies in a man’s bosom; [♦] it fills one full of obstacles: it made me once restore a [♦] purse of gold, that I found; it beggars any man that keeps [♦] it: it is turned out of all towns and cities for a dangerous [140] thing; and every man that means to live well endeavours [♦] to trust to himself and to live without it.
[♦] First Murd. ’Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke.
[♦] Sec. Murd. Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him [145] not: he would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh.
[♦] First Murd. Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail [♦] with me, I warrant thee.