Luc. Have I not her stature most exactly?
Duke. As near as I remember.
Luc. But, by your favour, I have nothing of her shape; for, if I may be so vain to praise myself, she's a little thicker in the shoulders, and, besides, she moves ungracefully.
Duke. Then you are not she again.
Luc. No, not she: But you have forgotten Emilia of the Ursini, whom the duke saluted yesterday at her balcony, when he entered. Her air and motion—
Duke. Are the very same with yours. Now I am sure I know you.
Luc. But there's too little of her to make a beauty: My stature is more advantageous.
Duke. You have cozened me again.
Luc. Well, I find at last I must confess myself: What think you of Eugenia Beata? The duke seemed to be infinitely pleased last night, when my brother presented me to him at the Belvidere.
Duke. Now I am certain you are she, for you have both her stature and her motion.