"First Murderer: How dost thou feel thyself now? Second Murderer: Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet within me. First Murderer: Remember our reward, when the deed's done. Second Murderer: Zounds, he dies; I had forgot the reward. First Murderer: Where is thy conscience now? Second Murderer: In the Duke of Gloucester's purse. First Murderer: So, when he opens his purse to give us our reward, thy conscience flies out. Second Murderer: Let it go; there's few or none will entertain it. First Murderer: How if it come to thee again? Second Murderer: 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; a man cannot swear, but it checks him; a man cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him: 'tis a blushing shame-faced 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 thing; and every man that means to live well, endeavors to trust to himself, and live without it. First Murderer: Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke."