[Enter Pantino]

PANTINO        Lance, away, away, aboard. Thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What’s the matter? Why weep’st thou, man? Away, ass, you’ll lose the tide if you tarry any longer.

LANCE                        It is no matter if the tied were lost, for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied.

PANTINO What’s the unkindest tide?

LANCE Why, he that’s tied here, Crab, my dog.     (2.3.25-31)

Pantino again, the play’s most functional character. Lance, away, away, aboard: get a move on, you’re terribly late. Thy master is shipped—so, Proteus has actually done it, is actually leaving Verona (by sea, for Milan…) and thou art to post after with oars. (There might be a quibble here: a horse would be more usually what one went post, express by, a near-homophone for oars, and setting up ass in the next line.) Lance is so late he’ll have to chase the ship as fast as he can in a dinghy, rowing to catch up. Then, having delivered his message, Pantino spots Lance’s state: what’s the matter? what’s going on? why weep’st thou, man? what’s up? away, ass, get on with it, you idiot; you’ll lose the tide if you tarry any longer. If you’re not quick, the tide will turn and you’ll be rowing against it as you try to catch Proteus’s ship.

Lance is lugubrious: it is no matter if the tied were lost, for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied. What? (Much harder if you’re hearing rather than reading.) I don’t care about losing the tied (tide) because… And what’s the unkindest tide? asks Pantino, more or less on behalf of the audience, although they may guess that it’s going to come back to Crab the dog. Why, he that’s tied here, Crab, my dog. Hard-hearted, unmoved animal that he is. (This is, of course, even funnier if Crab is being either notably patient, to the point of being asleep, or notably lively and friendly, an all-out good boy.)