No; let him die, in that he is a fox,
By nature proved an enemy to the flock,
Before his chaps be stain’d with crimson blood,
[260] As Humphrey, proved by reasons, to my liege.
And do not stand on quillets how to slay him:
Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety,
Sleeping or waking, ’tis no matter how,
[♦] So he be dead; for that is good deceit
265 Which mates him first that first intends deceit.
[♦] Queen. Thrice-noble Suffolk, ’tis resolutely spoke.