Document:  All > Shakespeare > Comedies > The Two Gentlemen of Verona > Act II, scene III

	[Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog]

LAUNCE: Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping;
	all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I
	have received my proportion, like the prodigious
	son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's
	court. I think Crab, my dog, be the sourest-natured
	dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father
	wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat
	wringing her hands, and all our house in a great
	perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed
	one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and
	has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have
	wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam,
	having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my
	parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it. This
	shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my father:
	no, no, this left shoe is my mother: nay, that
	cannot be so neither: yes, it is so, it is so, it
	hath the worser sole. This shoe, with the hole in
	it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance
	on't! there 'tis: now, sit, this staff is my
	sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and
	as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid: I
	am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the
	dog--Oh! the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so,
	so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing:
	now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping:
	now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on. Now
	come I to my mother: O, that she could speak now
	like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her; why, there
	'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down. Now
	come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes. Now
	the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a
	word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears.


PANTHINO: Launce, away, away, aboard! thy master is shipped
	and thou art to post after with oars. What's the
	matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass! You'll
	lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.

LAUNCE: It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the
	unkindest tied that ever any man tied.

PANTHINO: What's the unkindest tide?

LAUNCE: Why, he that's tied here, Crab, my dog.

PANTHINO: Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood, and, in
	losing the flood, lose thy voyage, and, in losing
	thy voyage, lose thy master, and, in losing thy
	master, lose thy service, and, in losing thy
	service,--Why dost thou stop my mouth?

LAUNCE: For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue.

PANTHINO: Where should I lose my tongue?

LAUNCE: In thy tale.

PANTHINO: In thy tail!

LAUNCE: Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and
	the service, and the tied! Why, man, if the river
	were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the
	wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.

PANTHINO: Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee.

LAUNCE: Sir, call me what thou darest.

PANTHINO: Wilt thou go?

LAUNCE: Well, I will go.



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