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The same. A street.
Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog.

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 pebblestone, 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
--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. Enter 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.

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

What's the unkindest tide?

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

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 (51)

For fear thou shouldst lose thy

Where should I lose my tongue?

In thy tale.

In thy tail!

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 (60)
could drive the boat with my sighs.

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

Sir, call me what thou darest.

Wilt thou go?

Well, I will go. [Exeunt.

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