ACT V
SCENE II. The same. A room in the Duke’s palace
Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit?
What? That my leg is too long?
No, that it is too little.
I’ll wear a boot to make it somewhat rounder.
[Aside.] But love will not be spurred to what it loathes.
What says she to my face?
She says it is a fair one.
Nay, then, the wanton lies; my face is black.
How likes she my discourse?
Ill, when you talk of war.
But well when I discourse of love and peace.
[Aside.] But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.
What says she to my valour?
O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.
[Aside.] She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.
What says she to my birth?
That you are well derived.
[Aside.] True, from a gentleman to a fool.
Considers she my possessions?
O, ay, and pities them.
Wherefore?
[Aside.] That such an ass should owe them.
That they are out by lease.
Here comes the Duke.
Not I.
Nor I.
Saw you my daughter?
Neither.