Verona. A Street.
 Enter LAUNCE, leading his dog Crab.

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, sir, 
	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. O, 
	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.

                             Enter PANTHINO.

Panthino	Launce, away, away, aboard! Thy master is shipped, and thou 
	art to post after with oars. What's the matter? Why weep'st 
	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 dar'st.

Panthino	Wilt thou go?

Launce	Well, I will go.
												[Exeunt.
