seal with my death than repeat over to my shame. The lady is dead upon mine and my master's false accusation; and, briefly, I desire nothing but the reward of a villain. Runs not this speech like iron through your blood? I have drunk poison whiles he utter'd it. But did my brother set thee on to this? Yea, and paid me richly for the practise of it. He is composed and framed of treachery: And fled he is upon this villany. Sweet Hero! now thy image doth appear In the rare semblance that I loved it first. Come, bring away the plaintiffs: by this time our sexton hath reformed Signior Leonato of the matter: and, masters, do not forget to specify, when time and place shall serve, that I am an ass. Here, here comes master Signior Leonato, and the Sexton too. Which is the villain? let me see his eyes, That, when I note another man like him, I may avoid him: which of these is he? If you would know your wronger, look on me. Art thou the slave that with thy breath hast kill'd Mine innocent child? Yea, even I alone. No, not so, villain; thou beliest thyself: Here stand a pair of honourable men; A third is fled, that had a hand in it. I thank you, princes, for my daughter's death: Record it with your high and worthy deeds: 'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it. I know not how to pray your patience; Yet I must speak. Choose your revenge yourself; Impose me to what penance your invention Can lay upon my sin: yet sinn'd I not But in mistaking. By my soul, nor I: And yet, to satisfy this good old man, I would bend under any heavy weight That he'll enjoin me to. I cannot bid you bid my daughter live; That were impossible: but, I pray you both, Possess the people in Messina here How innocent she died; and if your love Can labour ought in sad invention, Hang her an epitaph upon her tomb And sing it to her bones, sing it to-night: To-morrow morning come you to my house, And since you could not be my son-in-law, Be yet my nephew: my brother hath a daughter, Almost the copy of my child that's dead, And she alone is heir to both of us: Give her the right you should have given her cousin, And so dies my revenge. O noble sir, Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me! I do embrace your offer; and dispose For henceforth of