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.
THURIO Wherefore?
JULIA [aside] That such an ass should own them.
PROTEUS That they are out by lease.
JULIA Here comes the Duke. (5.2.19-29)
Thurio’s determined to get as much information—and reassurance—out of Proteus as possible; Proteus’s responses are double-edged and Julia’s additions are even more undermining. (There’s an adolescent authenticity about it, the neediness, the craving for crumbs of reassurance and consolation: but what did she really say? does she like me, does she like me?) What says she to my valour? Does she appreciate my bravery and chivalry? O sir, she makes no doubt of that. She is very clear about your (lack of) valour. She needs not, when she knows it cowardice: she’s so convinced that you’re a coward that she doesn’t have to say anything at all to confirm it. And what says she to my birth? Is she properly impressed by my rank and status? Yes, she knows that you are well derived, of noble birth, descended from a noble house—true, from a gentleman to a fool, snarks Julia, that’s how far you’ve sunk. Considers she my possessions? She knows I’m really rich, right? O ay, and pities them. Absolutely—she’s sorry for them, though. This baffles Thurio: wherefore? why? That such an ass should own them, suggests Julia, but Proteus has a more cutting qualification: that they are out by lease; he means either that you’re only leasing them, you don’t own your ‘possessions’ outright, or else you’re a miser, and every act of apparent generosity, every gift, is calculated; you always want something in return. A fight could be brewing, as Thurio must be working out—moron though he be—that Proteus is not really on his side? But here comes the Duke…
