PROTEUS       Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well,

And will employ thee in some service presently.

JULIA  In what you please. I’ll do what I can.

PROTEUS I hope thou wilt. [To Lance] How now, you whoreson peasant,

Where have you been these two days loitering?

LANCE            Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.

PROTEUS And what says she to my little jewel?

LANCE Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells you currish thanks is good enough for such a present.         (4.4.30-38)

Enter Proteus and ‘Sebastian’, Julia in disguise, and they’ve apparently only just met: Sebastian is thy name? asks Proteus. (Of COURSE he can’t tell it’s Julia, she is COMPLETELY transformed, dressed as a pageboy, her hair’s under a hat and everything.) I like thee well, and will employ thee in some service presently. Yes, I like the look of you and I think I can find something for you to do, yes, right away. (Is Proteus entertaining the possibility of being able to take on another servant, or perhaps a smart pageboy to replace Lance? Mostly, it’s just a plot point, to get the two of them in contact.) Julia can ask no more, and one hopes that she isn’t too eager; has the gloss already come off her clever scheme, now that she’s seen what Proteus is up to, but she’s still going ahead, what choices does she have in this moment? There can be a touch of desperation: in what you please. I’ll do what I can. I’d do anything for you! I hope thou wilt, replies Proteus, and it could be formal, distracted, perfunctory or—more interestingly—with a touch of—flirtation? subconscious recognition? A lingering glance?

Whatever, there’s another matter at hand. Lance. How now, you whoreson peasant, where have you been these two days loitering? Hey, you rascal, where did you get to the last couple of days? what have you been doing, where have you been? (Time has passed, is mostly the point.) I’ve been doing exactly as you asked, retorts Lance, offended, marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you bade me. That’s what I’ve been doing. Proteus can smile at this, always with a touch of anxiety, though; this was one of his pet plans, as it were, and he had high hopes: and what says she to my little jewel? how did she like that cute wee pupper? Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells you currish thanks is good enough for such a present. Didn’t go well, says Lance, and there’s an authentic echo of Silvia’s cutting tongue in what he relays. The dog you sent was an absolute mutt, SO badly behaved and embarrassing, and the only thanks you deserve for that kind of gift is mean-spirited, no thanks at all. So there.

Crab can start to look offended at this, possibly, but it’s better if he just carries on doing his doggy thing. Perhaps he goes to say hello to Julia.