PROTEUS       And notwithstanding all her sudden quips,

The least whereof would quell a lover’s hope,

Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,

The more it grows, and fawneth on her still.

But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her window,

And give some evening music to her ear.   (4.2.12-17)

And notwithstanding all her sudden quips, the least whereof would quell a lover’s hope—even though Silvia’s really quite ratty with me, sharp and sarcastic to the extent that a lesser man, a less ardent lover would be put off and give up (not me! I’m obsessed!) yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love, the more it grows, and fawneth on her still. It’s not an attractive picture, Proteus cringing and whining like a beaten dog, the more affectionate and, well, dogged the worse he’s treated, the less encouragement he gets (this was proverbial for spaniels, unable to be deterred by ill-treatment from their owners; the same masochistic conceit is employed by Helena to Demetrius in Midsummer Night’s Dream).

But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her window, and give some evening music to her ear. Time for this pair of actual stalkers to ruin Silvia’s plans for a quiet night in.