DUKE  Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care,

Which to requite, command me while I live.

This love of theirs myself have often seen,

Haply, when they have judged me fast asleep,

And oftentimes have purposed to forbid

Sir Valentine her company and my court.

But fearing lest my jealous aim might err,

And so unworthily disgrace the man

(A rashness that I ever yet have shunned),

I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find

That which thyself hast now disclosed to me.       (3.1.22-32)

This seems to have landed exactly as Proteus has intended: Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care—honest, that’s exactly how Proteus wants to be perceived (and to see himself)—which to requite, command me while I live. How can I ever repay you? Ask for whatever you want, and I’ll give it to you. But it’s not that straightforward: this love of theirs myself have often seen—of course I’ve been totally aware of what’s been going on with Silvia and Valentine—haply, when they have judged me fast asleep—even sometimes, by chance, when they’ve thought I’ve been sleeping! Oh, I’ve been on to this, don’t you worry. And oftentimes I have purposed to forbid Sir Valentine her company and my court. I’ve been on the point of throwing him out, banishing him, telling him that he can’t see her any longer and that he’s got to go. But, well, I lost my nerve on that, and I didn’t want to do anything hasty, fearing lest my jealous aim might err, my emotions might get the better of me and make me over-react, or mess it up—and then I might so unworthily disgrace the man, destroy Valentine’s reputation, a rashness that I ever yet have shunned—because I try to be reasonable, measured, dignified. One doesn’t want to ruin a man’s life, prematurely, over a youthful indiscretion, after all, at least not without absolutely cast-iron proof! (Proteus will be noting all of this.) And so I gave him, Valentine, gentle looks, thereby to find that which thyself hast now disclosed to me. I’ve been biding my time, being nice to him, so that I could keep track of exactly what they’re up to, so as to be able to intervene when the right moment came. And now you’ve given me proof, and that moment has arrived.

There’s an interesting little sketch here of the complex calculations of homosocial power and influence: stay in control, but don’t destroy another man’s reputation—particularly not a young man to whom you have been an encouraging patron—without good cause. Be discreet; don’t damage your own reputation through hastiness or unseemly emotional excess. This play, it turns out, is keenly interested in what it means to be a gentleman, and not just in the case of its titular characters.

Also, more than thirty lines in and Silvia hasn’t been mentioned by name by either Proteus or her father the Duke.