Two Gentlemen of Verona by William Shakespeare
Act 2 - Scene 3
The same. A street.
Launce : Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping;
[p]all the kind of
the Launces have this very fault. I
[p]have received my proportion,
like the prodigious
[p]son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the
Imperial's
[p]court. I think Crab, my dog, be the
sourest-natured
[p]dog that lives: my mother weeping, my
father
[p]wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our
cat
[p]wringing her hands, and all our house in a great
[p]perplexity,
yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed
[p]one tear: he is a stone, a
very pebble stone, and
[p]has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew
would have
[p]wept to have seen our parting; why, my
grandam,
[p]having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at
my
[p]parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it. This
[p]shoe is my
father: no, this left shoe is my father:
[p]no, no, this left shoe is
my mother: nay, that
[p]cannot be so neither: yes, it is so, it is so,
it
[p]hath the worser sole. This shoe, with the hole in
[p]it, is my
mother, and this my father; a vengeance
[p]on't! there 'tis: now, sit,
this staff is my
[p]sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily
and
[p]as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid: I
[p]am the dog:
no, the dog is himself, and I am the
[p]dog--Oh! the dog is me, and I
am myself; ay, so,
[p]so. Now come I to my father; Father, your
blessing:
[p]now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping:
[p]now
should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on. Now
[p]come I to my
mother: O, that she could speak now
[p]like a wood woman! Well, I kiss
her; why, there
[p]'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down.
Now
[p]come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes. Now
[p]the dog
all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a
[p]word; but see how I
lay the dust with my tears.
Panthino : Launce, away, away, aboard! thy master is shipped
[p]and thou art to
post after with oars. What's the
[p]matter? why weepest thou, man?
Away, ass! You'll
[p]lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.
Launce : It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the
[p]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
[p]losing the flood,
lose thy voyage, and, in losing
[p]thy voyage, lose thy master, and,
in losing thy
[p]master, lose thy service, and, in losing
thy
[p]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
[p]the service, and
the tied! Why, man, if the river
[p]were dry, I am able to fill it
with my tears; if the
[p]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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Next: Act 2 - Scene 4
