Original: Nay, ‘twill be this hour ere I have done weeping;
Modern: No, it will be an hour before I’m finished crying;

Original: all the kind of the Launces have this very fault.
Modern: all the Launce family have this same weakness.

Original: I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son,
Modern: I have received my inheritance, like the prodigal son,

Original: and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial’s court.
Modern: and I’m going with Sir Proteus to the Emperor’s court.

Original: I think Crab, my dog, be the sourest-natured dog that lives:
Modern: I think Crab, my dog, is the most bad-tempered dog alive:

Original: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat
Modern: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat

Original: wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity,
Modern: wringing her paws, and our whole household in great distress,

Original: yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear:
Modern: yet this heartless mutt didn’t shed a single tear:

Original: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog:
Modern: he’s like a rock, a cold pebble, and has no more compassion than a… well, a dog:

Original: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting;
Modern: even a stranger would have cried to see us say goodbye;

Original: why, my grandam, having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting.
Modern: why, my grandmother, who already can’t see, cried so hard at my leaving that she made herself even blinder.

Original: Nay, I’ll show you the manner of it.
Modern: No, I’ll show you exactly how it happened.

Original: This shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my father:
Modern: This shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my father:

Original: no, no, this left shoe is my mother: nay, that cannot be so neither:
Modern: no, no, this left shoe is my mother: wait, that can’t be right either:

Original: yes, it is so, it is so, it hath the worser sole.
Modern: yes, that’s right, that’s right, it has the worse sole.

Original: This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father;
Modern: This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this one is my father;

Original: a vengeance on’t! there ‘tis:
Modern: darn it! there we go:

Original: now, sit, this staff is my sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as small as a wand:
Modern: now then, this stick is my sister, because, you see, she’s as pale as a lily and as thin as a rod:

Original: this hat is Nan, our maid:
Modern: this hat is Nan, our maid:

Original: I am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog—Oh! the dog is me, and I am myself;
Modern: I am the dog: no, the dog is the dog, and I am the dog—Oh! the dog is me, and I am myself;

Original: ay, so, so.
Modern: yes, that’s right, that’s right.

Original: Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing:
Modern: Now I go to my father; Father, give me your blessing:

Original: now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping:
Modern: now the shoe shouldn’t be able to speak a word because it’s crying so hard:

Original: now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on.
Modern: now I should kiss my father; well, he keeps on crying.

Original: Now come I to my mother: O, that she could speak now like a wood woman!
Modern: Now I go to my mother: Oh, if only she could speak now like a crazy woman!

Original: Well, I kiss her; why, there ‘tis; here’s my mother’s breath up and down.
Modern: Well, I kiss her; why, there it is; I can feel my mother’s breathing.

Original: Now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes.
Modern: Now I go to my sister; listen to the sad sounds she makes.

Original: Now the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word;
Modern: Now the dog this whole time doesn’t shed a tear or say a word;

Original: but see how I lay the dust with my tears.
Modern: but look how I’m wetting the ground with my tears.

In Act II, Scene iii of “The Two Gentlemen of Verona,” Launce, the clownish servant, enters alone with his dog Crab and delivers a comedic monologue about his impending departure from home to follow his master Proteus to Milan. Launce describes the emotional farewell scene at his house, where his family wept copiously at his departure - his mother, father, sister, and even the maid all shed tears. He humorously contrasts their emotional display with his dog Crab’s apparent indifference, noting that while everyone else cried, his “stone-hearted” dog showed no emotion whatsoever.

Launce continues his rambling speech by recounting specific details of the farewell, including how his mother wept, his father wailed, his sister cried, the maid howled, and even the cat wrung her hands. He expresses bewilderment and mild indignation at his dog’s lack of sympathy, calling Crab harder-hearted than any human. The scene serves as comic relief through Launce’s earnest but bumbling commentary on his family’s grief and his dog’s stoic behavior. Throughout the monologue, Launce addresses his dog directly, chiding Crab for his apparent callousness while preparing to depart for his new position in Milan.

The Two Gentlemen of Verona follows the friendship and romantic entanglements of Valentine and Proteus, two young gentlemen from Verona. The play opens with Valentine departing for Milan to experience court life, leaving behind his friend Proteus, who is deeply in love with Julia. Soon after, Proteus is also sent to Milan by his father, forcing him to leave Julia, though they secretly exchange rings as tokens of their love. Meanwhile, Julia decides to disguise herself as a young man named Sebastian and follow Proteus to Milan.

In Milan, Valentine has fallen in love with Silvia, the Duke’s daughter, and she returns his affection. However, when Proteus arrives and meets Silvia, he immediately forgets his love for Julia and becomes infatuated with his friend’s beloved. In an act of betrayal, Proteus reveals Valentine’s secret plan to elope with Silvia to her father, the Duke. As punishment, Valentine is banished from Milan and becomes the leader of a group of outlaws in the forest.

The climax unfolds in the forest where all the characters converge. Proteus pursues the disguised Julia (still dressed as Sebastian, who has become his page) and attempts to force his attentions on Silvia, who has fled to find Valentine. Valentine arrives just in time to stop the assault, and when Proteus expresses remorse, Valentine magnanimously offers to give up Silvia to restore their friendship. At this moment, Julia faints and reveals her true identity. The play concludes with the Duke’s arrival, his pardon of Valentine and the outlaws, and the restoration of proper romantic pairings: Valentine with Silvia and Proteus reunited with the forgiving Julia.