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: 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.
