Nay, twill be this howr ere I have done weeping; all the kind of Lawntes have this very fault. I have received my proportion like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Prothius to the Imperial court. I think Crab my dog be the sownest-natur'd 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 people; yet did not this cull -hearted cur shed one tear! he is a stone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a few 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 worse 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; I am the dog; no, the dog is himself, and I am me: as the dog is the dog, and I am myself; ay, so, so; now come I to my father; father, your blysing! now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kip my father; well, he weeps on: now come I to my mother; oh that the shoe could speak now like an old woman! well, I kip her; why, there tis: here's my mother's breath up and down: now come I to my sister; mark the man 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 trans.

Vide: The Two Gentlemen of Verona, act 2, Scene 3.

I'm now Mr Pitt's in Downing Street
And I'll bark at all the whigs & meet.

London Pub: May 22, 1791. by W Holland N.50, Oxford Street.

LAUNCE AND HIS DOG CRAB.

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