PROTEUS.
No, that it is too little.
THURIO.
I’ll wear a boot to make it somewhat rounder.
JULIA.
[Aside.] But love will not be spurred to what it loathes.
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.