Original: When a man’s servant shall play the cur with him, look you, it goes hard:
Modern: When a man’s servant acts like a badly-behaved dog toward him, it’s really tough to take:

Original: one that I brought up of a puppy; one that I saved from drowning, when three or four of his blind brothers and sisters went to it.
Modern: especially one that I raised from a puppy; one that I saved from drowning when three or four of his newborn brothers and sisters died.

Original: I have taught him, even as one would say precisely, ‘thus I would teach a dog.’
Modern: I’ve trained him exactly the way you would say, “this is how I would train a dog.”

Original: I was sent to deliver him as a present to Mistress Silvia from my master;
Modern: I was sent to give him as a gift to Miss Silvia from my master;

Original: and I came no sooner into the dining-chamber but he steps me to her trencher and steals her capon’s leg:
Modern: and as soon as I entered the dining room, he walks right up to her plate and steals her chicken leg:

Original: O, ‘tis a foul thing when a cur cannot keep himself in all companies!
Modern: Oh, it’s a terrible thing when a dog can’t behave himself around anyone!

Original: I would have, as one should say, one that takes upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all things.
Modern: I wish I had, as you might say, a dog who really acts like a proper dog should, one who’s dog-like in every way.

Original: If I had not had more wit than he, to take a fault upon me that he did,
Modern: If I hadn’t been smarter than him and taken the blame for what he did,

Original: I think verily he had been hanged for’t; sure as I live, he had suffered for’t; you shall judge.
Modern: I truly believe he would have been killed for it; as sure as I’m alive, he would have been punished for it; you can decide for yourself.

Original: He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four gentlemanlike dogs under the duke’s table:
Modern: He pushes his way into the company of three or four well-bred dogs under the duke’s table:

Original: he had not been there—bless the mark!—a pissing while, but all the chamber smelt him.
Modern: he hadn’t been there—excuse me for saying so!—for more than a minute before the whole room could smell him.

Original: ‘Out with the dog!’ says one: ‘What cur is that?’ says another: ‘Whip him out’ says the third: ‘Hang him up’ says the duke.
Modern: “Get that dog out!” says one person: “What mutt is that?” says another: “Whip him out” says a third: “Hang him” says the duke.

Original: I, having been acquainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab,
Modern: I, having been familiar with that smell before, knew it was Crab,

Original: and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs: ‘Friend,’ quoth I, ‘you mean to whip the dog?’
Modern: and I go to the guy who punishes the dogs: “Friend,” I said, “are you planning to whip the dog?”

Original: ‘Ay, marry, do I,’ quoth he.
Modern: “Yes, indeed I am,” he said.

Original: ‘You do him the more wrong,’ quoth I; ‘twas I did the thing you wot of.’
Modern: “Then you’re punishing the wrong one,” I said; “it was me who did what you’re talking about.”

Original: He makes me no more ado, but whips me out of the chamber.
Modern: Without any further discussion, he whips me out of the room.

Original: How many masters would do this for his servant?
Modern: How many masters would do this for their servant?

Original: Nay, I’ll be sworn, I have sat in the stocks for puddings he hath stolen, otherwise he had been executed;
Modern: No really, I swear, I’ve sat in the stocks for sausages he stole, or else he would have been killed;

Original: I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath killed, otherwise he had suffered for’t.
Modern: I’ve stood in the pillory for geese he killed, or else he would have been punished for it.

Original: Thou thinkest not of this now.
Modern: You don’t think about any of this now.

Original: Nay, I remember the trick you served me when I took my leave of Madam Silvia:
Modern: No, I remember the stunt you pulled on me when I was saying goodbye to Madam Silvia:

Original: did not I bid thee still mark me and do as I do?
Modern: didn’t I tell you to watch me closely and do exactly as I do?

Original: when didst thou see me heave up my leg and make water against a gentlewoman’s farthingale?
Modern: when did you ever see me lift up my leg and pee on a lady’s fancy skirt?

Original: didst thou ever see me do such a trick?
Modern: did you ever see me do something like that?

In Act IV, Scene 4 of “Two Gentlemen of Verona,” Launce enters with his dog Crab and encounters Proteus with Silvia. Launce complains about his dog’s misbehavior, recounting how Crab disgraced him at court by urinating under the Duke’s table during dinner. Despite Launce’s attempts to take the blame and even offering to undergo punishment himself, his dog showed no remorse. Proteus then sends Launce away with instructions to find his master’s dog, which Launce had lost, and deliver it as a gift to Silvia from Proteus.

After Launce departs, Proteus attempts to woo Silvia by offering her the small dog as a present, claiming it is from him. However, Silvia recognizes the dog as the one she had previously given to Julia (who is now disguised as Sebastian, Proteus’s page). Sebastian/Julia admits that the lady who owned the dog is now dead, delivering the information with obvious emotional distress. Silvia firmly rejects Proteus’s advances, rebuking him for his faithlessness to both Valentine and Julia. She refuses the dog and exits. Left alone with Sebastian/Julia, Proteus sends his disguised page to deliver a ring to Silvia, which causes Julia further anguish as she recognizes it as the very ring she had given to Proteus when they parted.

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.