SILVIA O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman –

Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not –

Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplished.

Thou art not ignorant what dear good will

I bear unto the banished Valentine,

Nor how my father would enforce me marry

Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors.   (4.3.11-17)

Silvia makes the classic appeal: O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman—unlike Proteus, specifically but also putting that key identity front and centre of the play again—think not I flatter, I’m not just saying this—aw shucks, he’s saying, too kind, even before she’s said anything—you’re valiant, wise, remorseful, well-accomplished. You’re a proper gentleman, brave and virtuous, full of wisdom and compassion as well as all the skills and qualities a gentleman might have. You’ll take pity on me, won’t you? You’re such a nice man! Remorseful is buried in there, compassionate, merciful; he can’t claim the other praises without owning that one too. She’s setting him up; Silvia is clever, especially about male ego. And—thou art not ignorant what dear good will I bear unto the banished Valentine! I think you know how much I love him! (but she expresses it very decorously). And I think you’re also well aware—because everyone’s talking about it, especially after last night’s little serenade—how my father would enforce me marry vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors. Urgh! Ick! Can’t stand him, he’s a complete tosser, whom I loathe with every fibre of my being. But he’s my father’s pick, and he’s going to make me marry the loser. (No mention of Proteus: perhaps Silvia doesn’t realise yet that in fact he’s her biggest problem?)