THURIO          What says she to my face?

PROTEUS       She says it is a fair one.

THURIO Nay, then, the wanton lies. My face is black.

PROTEUS But pearls are fair; and the old saying is,

‘Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies’ eyes.’

JULIA  [aside] ’Tis true, such pearls as put out ladies’ eyes,

For I had rather wink than look on them.

THURIO How likes she my discourse?

PROTEUS Ill, when you talk of war.

THURIO But well, when I discourse of love and peace.

JULIA [aside] But better indeed, when you hold your peace.       (5.2.8-18)

The comic set-piece continues, as Thurio quizzes Proteus about what Silvia really, really thinks of him and Julia spikes their conversation with her asides. What says she to my face? Does she like the way I look? She says it is a fair one, replies Proteus, good-looking enough. But Thurio is gloomily dissatisfied in his misinterpretation: nay, then, the wanton lies. My face is black. I’m tanned, not fashionably pale. (He could be being negative about himself, or else, and probably more likely, he could be indignant, at having an adjective—fair, pale—more usually employed for feminine beauty applied to him. I have a ruddy masculine handsomeness! He could even be preening a bit.) (Calling Silvia a wanton, a flirt, is not especially complimentary or well-judged here.) Proteus hastens to reassure: but pearls are fair, both pale and beautiful, and the old saying is, ‘black men are pearls in beauteous ladies’ eyes’. It is apparently proverbial, the idea that a tanned or ruddy man is seen as attractive by women. But Julia skewers this consolation; she’s already got Thurio’s measure: ’tis true, such pearls as put out ladies’ eyes—she’s using pearl to mean cataract or even sty—for I had rather wink than look on them. I’d rather shut my eyes—fall asleep, perhaps—than gaze at a face like that. Thurio changes tack: how likes she my discourse? What does she have to say about my conversation? Does she find me impressive in my eloquence? Ill, when you talk of war: she’s not very impressed when you go on and on about your military exploits—or rather war in the abstract, you’d run a mile from a battlefield, is perhaps the implication. Thurio might be momentarily put out by this, but tries again: but well, when I discourse of love and peace. She likes that better, doesn’t she? But better indeed, when you hold your peace, mutters Julia. You’d be better just to shut up entirely; far safer not to open your mouth at all, you idiot.