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TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
A monologue from the
play by William
Shakespeare
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, 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 -- O, 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!
MORE MONOLOGUES BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |
