Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done 594weeping. All the kind of the Lances have this very 595fault. I have received my proportion, like the prodigious 596son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's 597court. I think Crab my dog be the sourest natured 598dog that lives. My mother weeping, my father 599wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our 600cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great 601perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed 602one tear. He is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no 603more pity in him than a dog. A Jew would have wept 604to have seen our parting. Why my Grandam, having 605no eyes, look you, wept her self blind at my parting. 606Nay, I'll shew you the manner of it. This shoe is my fa607ther. No, this left shoe is my father. No, no, this left 608shoe is my mother. Nay, that cannot be so neither. 609Yes, it is so, it is so: it hath the worser sole. This shoe 610with the hole in it is my mother, and this my father. 611A vengeance on't, there 'tis. Now, sir, this staff is my si612ster, for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as 613small as a wand. This hat is Nan, our maid. I am the 614dog. No, the dog is himself, and I am the dog. 615Oh, the dog is me, and I am my self. Ay, so, so. Now 616come I to my father. "Father, your blessing." Now 617should not the shoe speak a word for weeping. 618Now should I kiss my father. Well, he weeps on. 619Now come I to my mother. Oh, that she could speak 620now, like a wood woman. Well, I kiss her. Why, 621there 'tis, here's my mother's breath up and down. 622Now come I to my sister. Mark the moan she makes. 623Now the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor 624speaks a word. But see how I lay the dust with my 625tears.

Lance, away, away! Aboard! Thy master is 627shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the 628matter? Why weep'st thou, man? Away, ass, you'll lose 629the tide if you tarry any longer.

It is no matter if the tied were lost, for it is the 631unkindest 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 635in losing the flood, lose thy voyage, and in losing thy 636voyage, lose thy master, and in losing thy master, 637lose thy service, and in losing thy service-

Why 638dost thou stop my mouth?

For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue.

Where should I lose my tongue?

In thy tale.

In thy tail.

Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the ma644ster, and the service, and the tide? Why, man, if the river 645were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind 646were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.

Come, come away, man, I was sent to call 648thee.

Sir, call me what thou dar'st.

Wilt thou go?

Well, I will go.