2. Mur. Why, he shall never wake until the 104
great judgment day.
1. Mur. Why, then he'll say we stabbed
him sleeping.
2. Mur. The urging of that word 'judg- 108
ment' hath bred a kind of remorse in
me.
1. Mur. What! art thou afraid?
2. Mur. Not to kill him, having a warrant, but 112
to be damn'd for killing him, from the which no
warrant can defend me.
1. Mur. I thought thou hadst been reso-
jute. 116
2. Mur. So I am, to let him live.
1. Mur. I'll back to the Duke of Gloucester,
and tell him so.
2. Mur. Nay, I prithee, stay a little: I hope 120
this passionate humour of mine will change; it
was wont to hold me but while one tells twenty.
1. Mur. How dost thou feel thyself
now? 124
2. Mur. Some certain dregs of conscience are
yet within me.
1. Mur. Remember our reward when the deed's
done. 128
2. Mur. Come, he dies: I had forgot the re-
ward.
1. Mur. Where's thy conscience now?
2. Mur. O, in the Duke of Gloucester's purse. 132
1. Mur. When he opens his purse to give us
our reward, thy conscience flies out.
2. Mur. 'Tis no matter; let it go: there's few
or none will entertain it. 136
109 remorse: scruple
121 humour: mood
122 tells: counts
