SCENE III.
A street.
Enter Launce, leading a dog.
Laun.
Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done
weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very
fault: I have receiv'd my proportion, like the prodigious
son, and am going with sir Protheus to the
imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the
sourest natur'd dog that lives: my mother weeping,
my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid
-- 149 --
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 lilly, and as small as a wand: this
hat is Nan, our maid; 6 note
I am the dog:—no, the
dog is himself, and 7 noteI 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:9Q0093 now come I to my
mother;—oh that she could speak now 8 note
like a wood
-- 150 --
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.
Pan.
Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is
shipp'd, and thou art to post after with oars. What's
the matter? why weep'st thou, man? Away, ass;
you will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.
Laun.
It is no matter if the ty'd were lost9 note
; for it
is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd.
Pan.
What's the unkindest tide?
Laun.
Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog.
Pan.
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?
Laun.
For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue.
Pan.
Where should I lose my tongue?
Laun.
In thy tale.
-- 151 --
Pan.
In thy tail?
Laun.
1 noteLose the tide, and the voyage, and the
master, and the service, and the tide2 note? 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.
Pan.
Come, come away, man; I was sent to call
thee.
Laun.
Sir, call me what thou dar'st.
Pan.
Wilt thou go?
Laun.
Well, I will go.
[Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
