THURIO.
But well when I discourse of love and peace.
JULIA.
[Aside.] But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.
THURIO.
What says she to my valour?
PROTEUS.
O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.
JULIA.
[Aside.] She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.
THURIO.
What says she to my birth?
PROTEUS.
That you are well derived.
JULIA.
[Aside.] True, from a gentleman to a fool.
THURIO.
Considers she my possessions?
PROTEUS.
O, ay, and pities them.