I praise God for you, sir: your reasons at dinner have been sharp and sententious; pleasant without scurrility, witty without affectation, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange with-out heresy.
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; he cannot swear, but it checks him; he cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it detects him: it is a blushing shamefast spirit that multiplies 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, endeavours to trust to himself and to live without it. FIRST MURDERER: 'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me not to kill the duke.