He speaks in the most elaborate possible constructions — always three synonyms where one would do, always reaching for classical precedent before he'll admit anything plainly human. Watch for the gap between his grandiloquent framing and the utterly ordinary feeling underneath it.
Boy, what sign is it when a man of great spirit grows melancholy?
Boy, what's the sign when a proud man becomes sad?
Hey kid, what does it mean when someone with a big ego gets all depressed?
when do proud ppl get sad?
The most dangerous wit in the play lives in a boy's body — every answer is technically correct while being a devastating critique of the question. Watch for his asides, which are short, sharp, and always right.
A great sign, sir, that he will look sad.
It's a clear sign, sir—he'll look unhappy.
That's pretty obvious, sir. He'll look miserable.
duh he'll look sad
Why, sadness is one and the selfsame thing, dear imp.
Why, sadness and melancholy are the same thing, dear little one.
Look, sadness and melancholy are basically the same thing, you little smartass.
sad = sad tho
No, no, O Lord, sir, no.
No, no, oh goodness, sir, no.
No way, absolutely not, sir.
no no no nope
How canst thou part sadness and melancholy, my tender juvenal?
How can you tell the difference between sadness and melancholy, my delicate young one?
How are you gonna separate sadness from melancholy, you delicate little thing?
how r these different tho
By a familiar demonstration of the working, my tough signior.
By a straightforward explanation of how it works, my tough sir.
By explaining the mechanics simply, my tough guy.
i'll show u how it works my tough guy
Why tough signior? Why tough signior?
Why tough sir? Why tough sir?
Why are you calling me tough sir? Why tough sir?
why u call me tough??
Why tender juvenal? Why tender juvenal?
Why delicate young one? Why delicate young one?
Why are you calling me delicate? Why delicate?
why u call me delicate??
I spoke it, tender juvenal, as a congruent epitheton appertaining to
thy young days, which we may nominate tender.
I said it, delicate young one, as a fitting description belonging to your youth, which we can rightly call delicate.
I called you that because it's the perfect word for your age, which we can honestly call delicate.
young = delicate ok
And I, tough signior, as an appertinent title to your old time, which
we may name tough.
And I, tough sir, as a fitting title for your old age, which we can rightly call tough.
And I'm calling you tough because it's the perfect word for your advanced years, which we can honestly call tough.
old = tough, fair point
Pretty and apt.
Pretty and apt.
Pretty and apt.
pretty and apt
How mean you, sir? I pretty and my saying apt, or I apt, and my saying
pretty?
What do you mean, sir? Do you mean I'm pretty and my comment is clever, or that I'm clever and my comment is pretty?
Hold on, what are you saying exactly? That I'm pretty and what I said is smart, or I'm smart and what I said is pretty?
wait which 1? me pretty or me smart??
Thou pretty, because little.
You're pretty because you're small.
You're pretty because you're tiny.
ur pretty cuz ur small
Little pretty, because little. Wherefore apt?
Small is pretty because it's small. So why clever?
Small things are pretty because they're small. So what makes me clever?
small = pretty so??? wheres clever
And therefore apt, because quick.
And that's why you're clever—because you're quick.
And that's why you're clever. Because you're quick on your feet.
ur quick so ur clever
Speak you this in my praise, master?
Are you saying this to praise me, master?
Are you trying to compliment me here, master?
r u complimenting me rn
In thy condign praise.
As fitting praise for you.
Yeah, praise that you've earned.
earned praise 4 u
I will praise an eel with the same praise.
I'd give an eel the same praise.
I could say the exact same thing about an eel.
i could say this bout an eel too
Don Armado is often read as comic relief — the bombastic Spaniard puffed up with pretension — but he functions as the play's most precise satirical instrument. Every character flaw the four lords display in the main plot, Armado displays in grotesque caricature. The lords make an oath they can't keep; Armado announces his own breaking before the scene is half done. The lords dress their love in poetry; Armado dresses his in the prose equivalent of a baroque altarpiece. Most pointedly, Armado's love for Jaquenetta is played as ridiculous because she's socially beneath him — which is exactly how Shakespeare wants us to question whether the ladies in the main plot are simply more socially acceptable versions of the same breach of honor. He's not separate from the play's themes. He's where they go when no one's being polite about them.
What, that an eel is ingenious?
What—that an eel is clever?
What, you're saying an eel is clever?
eels r clever now??
That an eel is quick.
That an eel is speedy.
That eels move fast.
eels move fast
I do say thou art quick in answers. Thou heat’st my blood.
I'm saying you're quick at answering. You're getting me fired up.
I'm telling you that you've got quick comebacks. You're getting under my skin.
ur quick replies r pissing me off
I am answered, sir.
I've got my answer, sir.
I think I've made my point, sir.
got my answer
I love not to be crossed.
I don't like being contradicted.
I don't appreciate being talked back to.
dont like being challenged
[_Aside_.] He speaks the mere contrary; crosses love not him.
He speaks exactly the opposite of what he means; contradictions are his constant companion.
He says he hates being contradicted, but he contradicts himself all the time.
he says he hates being crossed but constantly contradicts himself
I have promised to study three years with the Duke.
I've promised to study for three years with the Duke.
I've committed to studying for three years under the Duke.
signed up 4 3 yrs studying w the duke
You may do it in an hour, sir.
You could do it in an hour, sir.
You could manage that in an hour, sir.
u could do it in 1 hr
Impossible.
Impossible.
Impossible.
impossible
How many is one thrice told?
What's one counted three times?
If you count one three times, what do you get?
1 counted 3 times = ?
I am ill at reckoning. It fitteth the spirit of a tapster.
I'm bad at math. That's more a bartender's skill.
I'm terrible at numbers. That's bar staff work, not mine.
bad at math thats for bartenders
You are a gentleman and a gamester, sir.
You're a gentleman and a gambler, sir.
You're a gentleman and someone who gambles, sir.
ur a gentleman n gambler
I confess both. They are both the varnish of a complete man.
I admit both. They're both the polish of a finished man.
I'll own both of those. They're both what makes a man complete.
both true both make a real man
Then I am sure you know how much the gross sum of deuce-ace amounts to.
Then I'm sure you know how much two-and-one adds up to.
Then I'm sure you can tell me what two-and-one comes to.
so u know 2+1??
It doth amount to one more than two.
It adds up to one more than two.
It comes to one more than two.
its 1 more than 2
Which the base vulgar do call three.
Which common people call three.
Which regular people just call three.
aka three
True.
True.
Right.
yeah
Why, sir, is this such a piece of study? Now here’s three studied ere
ye’ll thrice wink. And how easy it is to put “years” to the word
“three”, and study three years in two words, the dancing horse will
tell you.
Why, sir, what's so hard about that? Here's three settled before you can blink. And it's easy to add the word "years" to "three," so you've studied three years in just two words—a dancing horse could figure that out.
Come on, sir, why is this hard? That's three done before you can even blink. It's super easy to stick "years" next to "three" and boom—you've done three years of studying in basically two words. A trained horse could work that out.
three is easy. add years to three = 3 yrs studied. so simple even a horse gets it
A most fine figure!
That's brilliant logic!
That's perfect reasoning!
perfect logic
Elizabethan theater had a rich tradition of the clever servant who sees through his master's pretensions — Plautine comedy, Italian commedia, the English Vice figure all contributed to the type. But Moth is something unusual: a child whose intelligence is presented without condescension. He is genuinely cleverer than Armado in every exchange, and Shakespeare does not soften this by making Armado sympathetic or Moth malicious. The asides — 'To prove you a cipher,' 'a better love than my master' — are delivered to the audience as a kind of shared understanding: we are in on the joke, and so is Moth, and we are watching Armado from outside the joke together. This creates an unusually modern dramatic relationship. Keep watching Moth — he develops a strange tenderness for his impossible employer that never quite undermines his clear-eyed assessment of him.
[_Aside_.] To prove you a cipher.
That will prove you are nothing.
Which shows you're a complete zero.
proving ur a zero
I will hereupon confess I am in love; and as it is base for a soldier
to love, so am I in love with a base wench. If drawing my sword against
the humour of affection would deliver me from the reprobate thought of
it, I would take desire prisoner, and ransom him to any French courtier
for a new-devised curtsy. I think scorn to sigh; methinks I should
outswear Cupid. Comfort me, boy. What great men have been in love?
I'll now admit I'm in love. And since it's beneath a soldier to love, I'm in love with a low-class woman. If I could draw my sword against this feeling and free myself from this shameful thought, I'd capture desire itself and ransom it to any French courtier for a new curtsy he invented. I'd never think of sighing—I should be able to reject Cupid. Comfort me, boy. What great men have been in love?
I'm going to confess now—I'm in love. And yeah, it's not fitting for a soldier to be in love, but I'm head over heels for a girl of low birth. If I could just pull out my sword and fight this feeling, if I could kill this shameful thought, I'd actually capture Desire and trade it for some stupid new curtsy a French courtier invented. I hate that I want to sigh about this. I should be stronger than Cupid. Give me some encouragement, kid. What other great men have been in love?
im in love. w/ lowborn girl. not good 4 soldier. if i could fight it i would. help me. who else fell 4 love?
Hercules, master.
Hercules, master.
Hercules, master.
hercules, master
Most sweet Hercules! More authority, dear boy, name more; and, sweet my
child, let them be men of good repute and carriage.
Excellent Hercules! Give me more authority, dear boy, name more men; and, beloved child, let them be men of good reputation and behavior.
Perfect example, Hercules! Give me more examples, kid, name more guys; and bud, make sure they're men of good standing and good behavior.
nice hercules! gimme more guys tho good ones
Samson, master. He was a man of good carriage, great carriage, for he
carried the town gates on his back like a porter, and he was in love.
Samson, master. He was a man of good behavior, famous behavior—he carried the city gates on his back like a porter, and he was in love.
Samson, master. He was a man of good character, amazing character actually—he literally carried the city gates on his back like a baggage carrier, and he was in love.
samson. good guy, super strong, carried gates, was in love
O well-knit Samson, strong-jointed Samson! I do excel thee in my rapier
as much as thou didst me in carrying gates. I am in love too. Who was
Samson’s love, my dear Moth?
O strong Samson, powerfully built Samson! I beat you with my sword as much as you beat me with carrying gates. I'm in love too. Who was Samson's love, my dear Moth?
Oh strong Samson, so muscular! I'd beat you with my sword the way you beat everyone with your strength from carrying gates. I'm in love too, actually. Who was Samson's girlfriend, my dear Moth?
samson so strong. im in love too. who was samsons gf?
A woman, master.
A woman, master.
A woman, master.
a woman, master
Of what complexion?
Of what complexion?
Of what complexion?
of what complexion
Of all the four, or the three, or the two, or one of the four.
One of all the complexion types, or one of three types, or one of two types, or just one type.
Any of them, really. All of them, or three of them, or two, or just the one.
one of the options basically
Tell me precisely of what complexion.
Tell me exactly what her complexion was.
Tell me exactly what she looked like.
b specific bout her looks
Of the sea-water green, sir.
Sea-green, sir.
Ocean-green, sir.
green like the sea
Is that one of the four complexions?
Is that one of the four recognized complexion types?
Is that even one of the four official complexion types?
thats a real complexion type??
As I have read, sir; and the best of them too.
According to what I've read, sir, and it's the best one too.
From what I've read, yeah, and honestly it's the best one.
ye based on books n its the best 1
Green indeed is the colour of lovers. But to have a love of that
colour, methinks Samson had small reason for it. He surely affected her
for her wit.
Green really is the color of lovers. But for a man to love someone of that green color—it seems to me Samson didn't have much reason. He must have loved her for her intelligence.
Yeah, green is definitely the lover's color. But for someone to actually be in love with a green girl—honestly, Samson had a weird reason. He must've loved her for her brains.
green = lovers color but samson w green girl? must've been 4 her mind
It was so, sir, for she had a green wit.
Exactly, sir, because she was clever in a worldly way.
Yep, because she was clever about practical things.
yup she was clever
My love is most immaculate white and red.
My love is perfectly pale and rosy.
My girlfriend is completely pale with rosy cheeks.
my girls pale n rosy
Most maculate thoughts, master, are masked under such colours.
Most impure thoughts, master, hide behind those colors.
Most dirty thoughts, master, get covered up by those pretty colors.
those colors hide bad thoughts
Define, define, well-educated infant.
Explain it to me, explain it, well-trained young one.
Explain that to me, explain it, you well-trained kid.
explain it educated kid
My father’s wit and my mother’s tongue assist me!
May my father's intelligence and my mother's way with words help me!
May I inherit my father's brains and my mother's talent with language!
hope i got dads brains n moms way w words
Jaquenetta gets fewer lines than almost anyone in the play, but they land with precision. Her 'Man' in response to Armado's elaborate 'Maid' is the scene's best joke. Her 'With that face?' after his declaration of wonder is the second best. What's striking is that she is not written as naive or victimized — she holds her own, deflects his advances with dry accuracy, and leaves on her own terms with Dull. The critical question the play raises and never quite answers is: what does Jaquenetta think? She never expresses love for Armado. She never protests imprisonment. She simply exists in the play's lower world as its least pretentious figure — the one character who appears immune to the epidemic of wordplay that infects everyone else. In the final scene, she returns in a situation that is much less funny. Keep that in mind as a quiet thread running beneath all the sparkling wit.
Sweet invocation of a child, most pretty, and pathetical!
What a sweet prayer from a child—so lovely and moving!
What a beautiful thing for a child to say—so charming and touching!
aww cute thing 4 a kid 2 say
If she be made of white and red,
Her faults will ne’er be known;
For blushing cheeks by faults are bred,
And fears by pale white shown.
Then if she fear, or be to blame,
By this you shall not know,
For still her cheeks possess the same
Which native she doth owe.
A dangerous rhyme, master, against the reason of white and red.
If she's made of white and red, her faults will never be known. For blushing cheeks reveal wrongs, and pale cheeks show fear. But if she's guilty or at fault, you won't be able to tell, because her cheeks stay the same color as they naturally do. That's a dangerous argument, master, against the theory of white and red complexions.
If she's pale and rosy, her mistakes stay hidden. Because blushes expose guilt, and paleness shows shame. But if she did something wrong or failed, you couldn't tell at all, where her cheeks would stay exactly the color nature gave her. That's actually bad logic, master, for the whole white-and-red thing.
if shes pale n rosy no1 knows shes bad blush = guilt pale = fear but she wont show either so u cant tell bad argument master
Is there not a ballad, boy, of the King and the Beggar?
Isn't there a popular song, boy, about the King and the Beggar?
Isn't there like a ballad or something, kid, about a King and a Beggar?
theres a song bout a king n beggar right
The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since, but I
think now ’tis not to be found; or if it were, it would neither serve
for the writing nor the tune.
The world definitely had such a ballad about three generations ago, but I think it can't be found now; and even if it could be, it wouldn't work for either the lyrics or the melody.
Yeah, the world totally had a song like that maybe a hundred years ago, but I don't think you can find it anymore. And honestly, if you could, it wouldn't fit your story or your tune anyway.
was a thing long ago but its gone. wouldnt work anyway tho
I will have that subject newly writ o’er, that I may example my
digression by some mighty precedent. Boy, I do love that country girl
that I took in the park with the rational hind Costard. She deserves
well.
I'll have that story rewritten fresh, so I can use it as an example of my own romantic mistake, backed by a great precedent. Boy, I love that country girl I captured in the park with that sensible farm laborer Costard. She deserves to be loved.
I'm gonna get someone to write that story again so I can use it to justify my own romantic mess—backed up by a famous example. Kid, I'm in love with that farm girl I met in the park, the one with the smart laborer Costard. She's worth it.
gonna rewrite that story as excuse 4 my love. i like that park girl. shes worth it
[_Aside_.] To be whipped: and yet a better love than my master.
She deserves to be whipped, and yet she's a better love than yours.
She'd deserve a whipping, and yet she'd still be a better love than yours.
shes worthy of whipping but still a better love than urs
Sing, boy. My spirit grows heavy in love.
Sing, boy. My heart is getting heavy with love.
Sing something, kid. I'm getting all weighed down by being in love.
sing. im getting heavy into this
And that’s great marvel, loving a light wench.
That's surprising, falling in love with a frivolous girl.
That's wild, being in love with a light, flaky girl.
wild ur in love w a flaky girl
I say, sing.
I say, sing.
I say, sing.
i say, sing
Forbear till this company be past.
Wait until these people have left.
Hold on until this crowd moves along.
wait til theyre gone
Sir, the Duke’s pleasure is that you keep Costard safe; and you must
suffer him to take no delight, nor no penance, but he must fast three
days a week. For this damsel, I must keep her at the park. She is
allowed for the dey-woman. Fare you well.
Sir, the Duke wants you to keep Costard safely locked up, and you must make sure he doesn't enjoy himself or suffer punishment—but he has to fast three days a week. As for this girl, I'm responsible for keeping her at the pasture. She's approved as the dairy maid. Goodbye.
Sir, the Duke says you've got to keep Costard under lock and key, and he can't have any fun or any real punishment either—just fasting three days a week. And this girl here I gotta watch over at the pasture. She's cleared to be the dairy maid. Take care.
dukes orders: lock up costard no fun no pain just fast 3x week. girl stays w me at pasture. shes dairy maid. bye
I do betray myself with blushing.—Maid.
I'm betraying my feelings with my blushes.—Girl.
I'm giving myself away by blushing.—Hey there.
im blushing n showing everything—girl
She speaks in the plainest English in the play, which makes her seem simple — but watch how each of her short lines deflates Armado's pretension with perfect accuracy.
Man.
Man.
Sir.
man
I will visit thee at the lodge.
I'll visit you at the lodge.
I'll come see you at the cabin.
ill visit u at the lodge
That’s hereby.
It's close by.
Yeah, it's right nearby.
it's close by
I know where it is situate.
I know where it is located.
I know where it's at.
yup i know the place
Lord, how wise you are!
My goodness, how smart you are!
Wow, you're so smart!
omg ur so smart
I will tell thee wonders.
I'll tell you amazing things.
I'll tell you things that'll blow your mind.
i got wild stories 4 u
Scene 1-2 is written almost entirely in prose — a deliberate choice. The King's court in Scene 1-1 speaks verse, at least for the solemn parts; Armado and Moth speak prose. This isn't an accident of register — in Shakespeare, prose tends to mark characters who are outside the poem's elevated world: servants, clowns, and people in comic distress. But Armado's prose is a very specific kind: it's not the plain vernacular prose of Costard and Dull, it's an ornate, latinate, clause-stacked prose that tries to sound like elevated verse and fails. It wants to be poetry and can't quite get there. Shakespeare uses this distinction with surgical precision: the lords' versified romance is essentially the same impulse as Armado's prose romance, differently dressed. Both will end up making the same mistakes. The difference is social performance, not substance.
With that face?
With that face?
With that face?
with that face
I love thee.
I love you.
I love you.
i love you
So I heard you say.
That's what I heard you say.
Yeah, that's what I heard from you.
yup i heard u
And so, farewell.
And so, farewell.
And so, farewell.
and so, farewell
Fair weather after you!
Good luck to you as you go!
Hope the weather's good for you!
godspeed
Come, Jaquenetta, away.
Come, Jaquenetta, away.
Come, Jaquenetta, away.
come, jaquenetta, away
Villain, thou shalt fast for thy offences ere thou be pardoned.
Villain, you'll fast to make up for your wrongs before you can be pardoned.
You bad guy, you're gonna starve as punishment for what you did before I let you off.
ur gonna fast b4 i pardon u
Well, sir, I hope when I do it I shall do it on a full stomach.
Well, sir, I hope when I do it I'll do it on a full belly.
Well, sir, I hope when I fast I'll at least do it after eating well.
hope i can eat 1st b4 fasting
Thou shalt be heavily punished.
You'll be severely punished.
You're gonna get it bad.
ur gonna get wrecked
I am more bound to you than your fellows, for they are but lightly
rewarded.
I owe you more than your other servants, because they're only lightly punished.
Actually I'm better off with you than your other guys, since they barely get disciplined.
better off w u than ur other guys theyre barely punished
Take away this villain. Shut him up.
Take this criminal away. Lock him up.
Get this guy out of here. Throw him in lockup.
take him away lock him up
Come, you transgressing slave, away!
Come on, you rule-breaking servant, let's go!
Come on, you rule-breaker, move it!
come on lets go
Let me not be pent up, sir. I will fast being loose.
Don't lock me up, sir. I'll fast while I'm free.
Don't put me in a cell, sir. I'll do the fasting while I'm walking around.
dont lock me up ill fast while free
No, sir, that were fast and loose. Thou shalt to prison.
No, sir, that would be a cheap trick. You're going to jail.
No way, that's not how this works. You're going to prison.
nope ur going 2 jail
Well, if ever I do see the merry days of desolation that I have seen,
some shall see.
Well, if I ever see happy times like I've seen before, some people will see it too.
Well, if I ever get back to the good old days like before, you all are gonna see it happen.
if i see good times again u will 2
What shall some see?
What will some people see?
What exactly are they gonna witness?
what they gonna see tho
Nay, nothing, Master Moth, but what they look upon. It is not for
prisoners to be too silent in their words, and therefore I will say
nothing. I thank God I have as little patience as another man, and
therefore I can be quiet.
Nothing, Master Moth, except what they look at. Prisoners shouldn't talk too much, so I'll say nothing. I thank goodness I've got as little patience as any other person, so I can stay quiet.
Nothing, Master Moth, just what they see. Prisoners aren't supposed to run their mouths, so I'm keeping shut. I'm actually grateful I've got no more patience than anyone else, so I can stay silent.
nothing just whats in front of them. prisoners dont talk so im shutting up
I do affect the very ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is
baser, guided by her foot, which is basest, doth tread. I shall be
forsworn, which is a great argument of falsehood, if I love. And how
can that be true love which is falsely attempted? Love is a familiar;
Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love. Yet was Samson so
tempted, and he had an excellent strength; yet was Solomon so seduced,
and he had a very good wit. Cupid’s butt-shaft is too hard for
Hercules’ club, and therefore too much odds for a Spaniard’s rapier.
The first and second cause will not serve my turn; the _passado_ he
respects not, the _duello_ he regards not. His disgrace is to be called
boy, but his glory is to subdue men. Adieu, valour; rust, rapier; be
still, drum, for your manager is in love. Yea, he loveth. Assist me,
some extemporal god of rhyme, for I am sure I shall turn sonnet.
Devise, wit; write, pen; for I am for whole volumes in folio.
I love even the ground, which is base, where her shoe, which is even baser, guided by her foot, which is the basest thing, steps. I'll break my oath, which proves I'm dishonest, if I love. And how can love be real if it's dishonestly tried? Love is a familiar spirit; Love is a devil. There's no evil spirit except Love. Yet Samson faced this temptation and had great strength; yet Solomon faced this temptation and had brilliant wit. Cupid's blunt arrow is too powerful for Hercules' club, and therefore too much for a Spaniard's sword. The usual rules of sword-fighting won't help me; he doesn't respect the basic thrust, he doesn't care about the formal duel. His shame is being called a boy, but his glory is controlling men. Goodbye, valor; rust, sword; stay silent, drum, because your master is in love. Yes, he loves. Come help me, some inspiration from the gods for poetry, because I'm sure I'll write sonnets. Invent something, wit; write, pen; I'm ready for whole volumes of poetry.
I'm in love with the very ground she walks on—the ground itself is common, but her shoe is even more common, guided by her foot which is the most common thing there is. If I love, I'll break my promise, which means I'm a liar. How can love be real love if it's based on lying? Love is a familiar demon; Love is straight-up evil. There's no other evil spirit but Love. Even Samson got tempted this way and he was incredibly strong; even Solomon got tempted and he was super smart. Cupid's stupid little arrow can beat Hercules' club no problem, so it's way too much for my sword. The normal fencing moves don't work; he doesn't care about the thrust, he doesn't respect the formal rules. The worst thing for him is being called a boy, but his power is that he makes men submit. Forget about being brave; get rusty, sword; stay still, drum, your master is in love now. Yeah, he's really in love. Give me some divine help with poetry, because I know I'm about to start writing sonnets. Think of something, brain; write something, pen; I'm ready to produce whole books of verse.
in love w ground she walks on if i love im a liar love is evil even strong guys n smart guys get hit Cupids stronger than my sword normal moves dont work im gonna lose help me write poetry im gonna make sonnets
The Reckoning
The main plot's comic oath-breaking is mirrored instantly in the subplot: Armado, the play's other would-be ascetic, has already fallen. Moth's running commentary — delivered in asides the audience hears but Armado doesn't — makes the scene feel like a private performance within a performance. We leave it sensing that love in this play is not an obstacle to overcome but a force of nature that makes fools of everyone.
If this happened today…
Imagine a self-serious LinkedIn thought leader who posts long threads about discipline and stoicism, then privately DMs his personal assistant — a teenager half his age who clearly has three times his emotional intelligence — asking him to name famous CEOs who were known to date interns, to prove it's fine. The assistant plays along, deadpan, listing names while adding footnotes that quietly demolish the whole premise. Then the guy's HR department delivers a complaint, and he responds by putting the complainer on a performance improvement plan, then writes a journal entry about how love is destroying him.