SCENEⅢ The Same.A Street

SCENEⅢ The Same.A Street

[Enter LAUNCE,leadinga 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.

[Enter PANTHINO.]