How dost thou feel thyself now?

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’s thy conscience now?

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
neighbor’s wife but it detects him.

Second Murderer
O, in the Duke of Gloucester’s purse.
First Murderer
When he opens his purse to give us
our reward, thy conscience flies out.
Second Murderer
’Tis no matter. Let it go. There’s
few or none will entertain it.
First Murderer
What if it come to thee again?
Second Murderer
I’ll not meddle with it. 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 neighbor’s wife but it detects
him. ’Tis a blushing, shamefaced spirit that mutinies
in a man’s bosom. It fills a man full of obstacles. It
made me once restore a purse of goldthat by chance
I found. It beggars any man that keeps it. It is turned
out of 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, ’tis even now at my elbow,
persuading me not to kill the Duke.
Second Murderer
Take the devil in thy mind, and believe him not. He
would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh.
First Murderer
I am strong-framed. He cannot prevail with me.
Second Murderer
Spoke like a tall man that respects
thy reputation. Come, shall we fall to work?
First Murderer
Take him on the costard with the hilts of thy sword, and
then throw him into the malmsey butt in the next room.
Second Murderer
O, excellent device—and make a sop of him!
First Murderer
Soft, he wakes.
Second Murderer
Strike!
First Murderer
No, we’ll reason with him.