Leon. 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 aught 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 giv'n her cousin, And so dies my revenge. Claud. O noble sir! Your over-kindness doth wring tears from me. I do embrace your offer; and dispose For henceforth of poor Claudio. Leon. To-morrow then I will expect your coming; To-night I take my leave. This naughty man Shall fact to face be brought to Margaret, Who I believe was pack'd in all this wrong, Hir'd to it by your brother. Bora. No, by my soul, she was not; Nor knew not what she did when she spoke to me; But always hath been just and virtuous In anything that I do know by her. Dog. Moreover, sir, which indeed is not under white and black, this plaintiff here, the offender, did call me ass. I beseech you let it be rememb'red in his punishment. And also the watch heard them talk of one Deformed. They say he wears a key in his ear, and a lock hanging by it, and borrows money in God's name, the which he hath us'd so long and never paid that now men grow hard-hearted and will lend nothing for God's sake. Pray you examine him upon that point. Leon. I thank thee for thy care and honest pains. Dog. Your worship speaks like a most thankful and reverent youth, and I praise God for you. Leon. There's for thy pains. [Gives money.] Dog. God save the foundation! Leon. Go, I discharge thee of thy prisoner, and I thank thee. Dog. I leave an arrant knave with your worship, which I beseech your worship to correct yourself, for the example of others. God keep your worship! I wish your worship well. God restore you to health! I humbly give you leave to depart; and if a merry meeting may be wish'd, God prohibit it! Come, neighbour. [Exeunt [Dogberry and Verges.] Leon. Until to-morrow morning, lords, farewell. Ant. Farewell, my lords. We look for you to-morrow. Pedro. We will not fall. Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero. [Exeunt Don Pedro and Claudio.] Leon. [to the Watch] Bring you these fellows on.--We'll talk with Margaret, How her acquaintance grew with this lewd fellow. [Exeunt.] Scene II. Leonato's orchard. [Enter Benedick and Margaret [meeting.] Bene. Pray thee, sweet Mistress Margaret, deserve well at my hands by helping me to the speech of Beatrice. Marg. Will you then write me a sonnet in praise of my beauty? Bene. In so high a style, Margaret, that no man living shall come over it; for in most comely truth thou deservest it.