_Satis quod sufficit._
Enough is sufficient.
That's enough.
enough is enough
I praise God for you, sir. Your reasons at dinner have been sharp and
sententious, pleasant without scurrility, witty without affection,
audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and strange
without heresy. I did converse this _quondam_ day with a companion of
the King’s, who is intituled, nominated, or called, Don Adriano de
Armado.
I thank God for you, sir. Your arguments at dinner were sharp and wise, pleasant without being rude, witty without being affected, bold without being arrogant, learned without being stubborn, and strange without being heretical. I talked just the other day with one of the King's companions, who is titled, named, or called Don Adriano de Armado.
I really respect you, sir. The things you said at dinner were smart and thoughtful, funny without being mean, clever without being pretentious, bold without being rude, educated without being stubborn, and original without being crazy. I ran into one of the King's friends the other day who goes by Don Adriano de Armado.
respect u sir u were smart at dinner funny but not mean clever but not fake bold but not rude met kings friend don adriano
_Novi hominem tanquam te._ His humour is lofty, his discourse
peremptory, his tongue filed, his eye ambitious, his gait majestical
and his general behaviour vain, ridiculous, and thrasonical. He is too
picked, too spruce, too affected, too odd, as it were, too peregrinate,
as I may call it.
His mood is arrogant, his speech is bossy, his tongue is polished, his eyes show ambition, his walk is majestic and his overall behavior is vain, ridiculous, and boastful. He's too carefully dressed, too refined, too affected, too strange, you might say, too much of a traveler, as I might call it.
He's arrogant, talks down to people, uses fancy language, acts like he's important, walks around like a king, and generally acts vain and ridiculous. He's overdressed, too refined, too fake, too weird—basically too much like someone who's traveled everywhere and picked up all these pretentious habits.
hes arrogant bossy fancy walks like hes important vain and ridiculous oderdressed too refined too weird
A most singular and choice epithet.
A most unique and excellent choice of words.
That's a really perfect way to describe him.
perfect description
He draweth out the thread of his verbosity finer than the staple of his
argument. I abhor such fanatical phantasimes, such insociable and
point-devise companions, such rackers of orthography, as to speak
“dout” _sine_ “b”, when he should say “doubt”, “det” when he should
pronounce “debt”—_d, e, b, t_, not _d, e, t_. He clepeth a calf “cauf”,
half “hauf”; neighbour _vocatur_ “nebour”, neigh abbreviated “ne”. This
is abhominable, which he would call “abominable”. It insinuateth me of
insanie. _Ne intelligis, domine?_ To make frantic, lunatic.
He stretches out his wordiness more than the substance of his argument. I hate such fanatical nonsense, such antisocial and precise companions, such butchers of correct spelling, who speak 'dout' without the 'b' when they should say 'doubt', 'det' when they should say 'debt'—d, e, b, t, not d, e, t. He calls a calf 'cauf', half 'hauf'; neighbor he calls 'nebour', the neigh in neighbor he shortens to 'ne'. This is disgusting, which he would call 'abominable'. It makes me want to lose my mind. You understand, master? To make someone mad, crazy.
He talks and talks but never actually says anything worth hearing. I hate those kinds of crazy, unsocial people who are so careful about rules they break the rules—like saying 'dout' instead of 'doubt', or 'det' instead of 'debt'. He calls a calf a 'cauf', half a 'hauf', neighbor a 'nebour', he cuts off the neigh sound. It's disgusting. And he gets angry when people mispronounce words like 'abominable' when he's the one mispronouncing everything! It drives me insane. You get it? Like, makes you want to go crazy.
he talks too much without saying anything i hate people who butcher words say dout not doubt det not debt cauf hauf nebour its disgusting drives me crazy
_Laus Deo, bone intelligo._
Praise God, I understand well.
I totally get it.
i get it
_Bone? Bone_ for _bene?_ Priscian a little scratched; ’twill serve.
Bone instead of bene? Your grammar is a little bit broken, but it will work.
Wait, bone for bene? Your Latin grammar's a little off, but I get what you're saying.
ur latin is bit off but ok
_Videsne quis venit?_
Do you see who is coming?
Do you see who's coming?
see who's coming?
_Video, et gaudeo._
I see, and I am glad.
I see, and I'm pleased.
i see and i'm happy
_Chirrah!_
_Chirrah!_
_Chirrah!_
_chirrah _
_Quare_ “chirrah”, not “sirrah”?
Why 'chirrah' instead of 'sir'?
Why are you saying 'chirrah' instead of just 'sir'?
why chirrah not sir
Men of peace, well encountered.
Gentlemen of peace, I'm glad to meet you.
Hey guys, nice to see you.
hey guys nice to meet u
Scene 5-1's central metaphor — language as a feast from which these characters steal scraps — captures the play's entire critique of performative learning. Holofernes and Armado are not ignorant; they have absorbed real Latin, real classical allusions, real rhetorical structures. But they have absorbed the surface without the depth: they use words to perform intelligence rather than to think. The play's title (Love's Labour's Lost) points to this: all the labor these men have put into language ends up producing nothing — the love letters fail, the pageant is mocked, the oaths collapse. Words without feeling are scraps.
Most military sir, salutation.
Most military sir, my greetings to you.
A hearty greeting to you, sir.
hello sir
[_Aside to Costard_.] They have been at a great feast of languages and
stolen the scraps.
They've been to a great feast of languages and stolen the scraps.
They've picked over scraps from a huge buffet of fancy language.
they hit a language buffet and stole all the leftovers lol
O, they have lived long on the almsbasket of words. I marvel thy master
hath not eaten thee for a word, for thou art not so long by the head as
_honorificabilitudinitatibus_. Thou art easier swallowed than a
flap-dragon.
Oh, they've lived a long time on scraps of language. I'm surprised your master hasn't eaten you for a word, since you're not as long as the word honorificabilitudinitatibus. You're easier to swallow than a flap-dragon.
Wow, you guys have been living on leftovers of words forever. I'm surprised your boss hasn't eaten you as a word snack, since you're not even as long as the word honorificabilitudinitatibus. You'd be easier to swallow than a flap-dragon.
u live on word scraps ur boss gonna eat u ur not even as long as honorificabilitudinitatibus u easier to swallow
Peace! The peal begins.
Quiet! The show is beginning.
Shh! It's starting.
shh its starting
[_To Holofernes_.] Monsieur, are you not lettered?
Monsieur, are you not educated?
Monsieur, you're supposed to be an educated man, aren't you?
arent u supposed to be smart
Yes, yes, he teaches boys the hornbook. What is _a, b_, spelt backward
with the horn on his head?
Yes, yes, he teaches the alphabet to boys. What is the alphabet spelled backward with a horn growing out of his head?
Yeah, he teaches kids their ABCs. So what's the alphabet backward when he's got a horn on his head?
he teaches kids abc what is abc backward with horn on head
_Ba, pueritia_, with a horn added.
Ba, childhood, with a horn added.
Ba, like a tiny baby with a horn.
ba baby with horn
_Ba_, most silly sheep with a horn. You hear his learning.
Ba, you silly sheep with a horn. That's the extent of his learning.
Ba, you silly sheep with a horn. That's all he knows.
ba silly sheep with horn thats his education
_Quis, quis_, thou consonant?
What, what, you consonant?
What are you calling me a consonant?
what im a consonant
The third of the five vowels, if you repeat them; or the fifth, if I.
The third vowel if you're counting them, or the fifth if I'm counting.
If you count them, I'm the third vowel, but if I count them, I'm the fifth.
im the third vowel if u count if i count im the fifth
I will repeat them: _a, e, i_—
Let me recite them: a, e, i—
I'll run through them: a, e, i—
a e i
The sheep. The other two concludes it: _o, u_.
The sheep. The other two complete it: o, u.
Baa. The other two finish it: o, u.
sheep sound done o u
Now, by the salt wave of the Mediterraneum, a sweet touch, a quick
venue of wit! Snip, snap, quick and home! It rejoiceth my intellect.
True wit!
Now, by the salt water of the Mediterranean, what a brilliant little display of wit! Quick, sharp, and to the point! It delights my mind. That's real wit!
Wow, by the Mediterranean! That was brilliant! Quick, sharp, and perfect! I love that kind of wit!
by the mediterranean thats brilliant wit quick sharp perfect i love it
Offered by a child to an old man—which is wit-old.
Offered by a young person to an old person—which is old-fashioned wit.
Given by a kid to an old guy—which is kind of ancient wit.
kid gives wit to old guy which is old-fashioned
What is the figure? What is the figure?
What is the literary device? What is the figure of speech?
What kind of wordplay is that? What's the technique?
what is the wordplay
Anthony Dull has barely twenty lines in the entire play, and his function seems to be to have everything said above his head. But Shakespeare gives him two of the play's most pointed moments: the riddle about the moon in 4-2 (which the scholars don't immediately solve), and this scene's closing line ('Nor understood none neither, sir'). Dull is honest about his ignorance in a play where everyone else performs understanding they don't have. His offer to play the tabor is more genuinely useful than any of Holofernes's elaborate schemes. The play's title could apply to him too — he's been laboring at comprehension all play long and gotten nowhere — but he's also the only character who never pretends otherwise.
Horns.
Horns.
Horns.
horns
Thou disputes like an infant. Go whip thy gig.
You argue like a baby. Go play with your spinning top.
You argue like a little kid. Go play with your top.
u argue like a baby go play with ur top
Lend me your horn to make one, and I will whip about your infamy _unum
cita_. A gig of a cuckold’s horn.
Lend me your horn to make one, and I'll spin your shame around quickly. A top made from a cuckold's horn.
Give me your horn and I'll make a top, then whip up your embarrassment all over the place. A spinning toy made from a cheater's horn.
give me ur horn ill make top spread ur shame around from cheater horn
An I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy
gingerbread. Hold, there is the very remuneration I had of thy master,
thou halfpenny purse of wit, thou pigeon-egg of discretion. O, an the
heavens were so pleased that thou wert but my bastard, what a joyful
father wouldst thou make me! Go to, thou hast it _ad dunghill_, at the
fingers’ ends, as they say.
If I had only one penny in the world, you'd get it to buy gingerbread. Here, take this—it's the exact payment your master gave me, you tiny purse of wit, you little egg of common sense. Oh, if only the heavens had made you my bastard child, what a happy father I'd be! Come on, you've got it completely at your fingertips, as they say, completely mastered.
If I only had one penny, I'd give it to you for gingerbread. Here, this is the exact payment your boss gave me, you worthless little wit, you pathetic attempt at common sense. Oh man, if you were my kid, I'd be so proud! You've got it down, you know everything there is to know.
if i had one penny ud get it this is what ur boss paid me ud make me proud if u were my kid u know everything
O, I smell false Latin! _Dunghill_ for _unguem_.
Oh, I smell bad Latin! Dunghill instead of unguem.
Whoa, that's bad Latin! You mixed up dunghill with unguem.
thats bad latin
Arts-man, preambulate. We will be singuled from the barbarous. Do you
not educate youth at the charge-house on the top of the mountain?
Learned man, let's walk. We'll separate ourselves from common people. Don't you teach young people at the school on top of the mountain?
Hey, learned guy, let's walk over here. Let's get away from these crude people. So you teach kids at that school up on top of the mountain, right?
lets walk away from these crude people u teach kids at school on mountain
Or _mons_, the hill.
Or mons, which means hill in Latin.
Or mons, meaning hill.
mons hill in latin
At your sweet pleasure, for the mountain.
As you prefer to call it, for the mountain.
Whatever you want to call it, sure, the mountain.
whatever u want call it
I do, _sans question_.
I do, without question.
Of course I do.
of course
Sir, it is the King’s most sweet pleasure and affection to congratulate
the Princess at her pavilion in the posteriors of this day, which the
rude multitude call the afternoon.
Sir, it is the King's great pleasure to greet the Princess at her tent in the back part of this day, which common people call the afternoon.
Sir, the King really wants to go see the Princess at her tent in the afternoon—you know, that back part of the day that regular folks call the afternoon.
king wants to see princess at her tent in afternoon
The posterior of the day, most generous sir, is liable, congruent, and
measurable for the afternoon. The word is well culled, chose, sweet,
and apt, I do assure you, sir, I do assure.
The back part of the day, most generous sir, is appropriate, fitting, and measurable for the afternoon. The word is well selected, chosen, lovely, and apt, I assure you, sir, I do assure.
The back part of the day, sir, is perfect for describing the afternoon. That's a really well-chosen, lovely, and fitting word, I promise you, I really do promise.
posterior of day perfect for afternoon great word choice
Sir, the King is a noble gentleman, and my familiar, I do assure ye,
very good friend. For what is inward between us, let it pass. I do
beseech thee, remember thy courtesy; I beseech thee, apparel thy head.
And among other importunate and most serious designs, and of great
import indeed, too—but let that pass. For I must tell thee it will
please his Grace, by the world, sometime to lean upon my poor shoulder
and with his royal finger thus dally with my excrement, with my
mustachio. But, sweet heart, let that pass. By the world, I recount no
fable! Some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart
to Armado, a soldier, a man of travel, that hath seen the world. But
let that pass. The very all of all is—but, sweet heart, I do implore
secrecy—that the King would have me present the Princess, sweet chuck,
with some delightful ostentation, or show, or pageant, or antic, or
firework. Now, understanding that the curate and your sweet self are
good at such eruptions and sudden breaking-out of mirth, as it were, I
have acquainted you withal, to the end to crave your assistance.
Sir, the King is a noble gentleman and my close friend, I assure you, a very good friend. As for what passes between us privately, never mind. I beg you to remember your manners; I beg you, cover your head. And among other urgent and serious matters of great importance too—but never mind. For I must tell you the King sometimes likes to lean on my shoulder and play with my mustache with his royal finger. But, my friend, never mind. By the world, I'm not making this up! The King chooses to give Armado, a soldier and traveler who has seen the world, certain special honors. But never mind. The main thing is—but, my friend, I ask you for secrecy—that the King wants me to show the Princess some delightful performance, or show, or pageant, or theatrical piece, or fireworks. Now, knowing that you and the priest are good at creating sudden bursts of entertainment and laughter, I'm asking for your help.
Sir, the King is a great guy and my best friend, believe me. Whatever we talk about privately, forget about it. I'm asking you nicely to remember your manners and cover your head. And I've got a bunch of other really serious stuff to deal with—but never mind about that. I'm just saying the King likes to lean on my shoulder sometimes and mess with my mustache. But anyway, that's not the point. I'm not making this up! The King gives me special honors because I'm a soldier and a sophisticated guy who's traveled. But that's not important. The real thing is—and I need you to keep this secret—the King wants me to put on some amazing show for the Princess. Some kind of performance, pageant, play, or fireworks. Since I know you and the priest are really good at making people laugh with quick entertainment, I'm asking if you can help me out.
king is my best friend he leans on my shoulder plays with my mustache im not making it up he gives me honors he wants me to put on show for princess something amazing can u help
Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies. Sir Nathaniel, as
concerning some entertainment of time, some show in the posterior of
this day, to be rendered by our assistance, the King’s command, and
this most gallant, illustrate, and learned gentleman, before the
Princess, I say, none so fit as to present the Nine Worthies.
Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies. Sir Nathaniel, as for some entertainment for this afternoon, some show to be given with our help, by the King's command, and with this most excellent, distinguished, and learned gentleman assisting us, before the Princess, I say, nothing is more suitable than to present the Nine Worthies.
Sir, here's what you should do—present the Nine Worthies to her. Sir Nathaniel, for this afternoon entertainment, for the show the King wants, with our help and with this excellent learned gentleman assisting us, I honestly think there's nothing better than the Nine Worthies.
present the nine worthies for afternoon entertainment kings command best show ever
Where will you find men worthy enough to present them?
Where will you find men good enough to play them?
But where are we going to find people who can actually play those parts?
where will we find people to play them
Joshua, yourself; myself; and this gallant gentleman, Judas Maccabaeus.
This swain, because of his great limb or joint, shall pass Pompey the
Great; the page, Hercules.
Joshua, you will play him; I will play one; and this excellent gentleman will play Judas Maccabaeus. This farmhand, because of his large build, will play Pompey the Great; and the young servant will play Hercules.
You'll be Joshua, I'll play another one, and this guy will be Judas Maccabaeus. This big farmhand can play Pompey the Great because he's so big; and that small page kid can play Hercules.
u joshua me another this guy judas maccabaeus big farmhand pompey kid page hercules
The Nine Worthies tradition presented nine exemplary figures from three traditions: pagan (Hector, Alexander, Julius Caesar), Hebrew (Joshua, David, Judas Maccabaeus), and Christian (Arthur, Charlemagne, Godfrey of Bouillon). Usually performed as a formal pageant with elaborate costumes and set speeches, it was a prestigious civic entertainment. What makes Holofernes's plan immediately absurd is the math: nine roles, five performers. His solution — to play three himself — is simultaneously practical and megalomaniacal. The casting of Moth as infant Hercules is an inspired workaround; the casting of Costard as Pompey because he's 'great' in size is the funniest logic in the scene. The whole enterprise announces its own failure before it has begun.
Pardon, sir; error. He is not quantity enough for that Worthy’s thumb;
he is not so big as the end of his club.
Excuse me, sir; that's wrong. He's not big enough for that hero's thumb; he's not as big as the end of Hercules' club.
Sorry sir, that's not right. That kid isn't even as big as Hercules' thumb; he's definitely not as big as the end of his club.
thats wrong the kid isnt even as big as hercules thumb
Shall I have audience? He shall present Hercules in minority. His enter
and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will have an apology for
that purpose.
May I explain? He shall play Hercules as a child. His entrance and exit shall be strangling a snake; and I will write an explanation for that.
Let me explain. He'll play Hercules when he was young. He'll come on stage by strangling a snake and leave the same way; I'll write a little explanation for it.
hell play young hercules come on strangling snake leave strangling snake il explain why
An excellent device! So, if any of the audience hiss, you may cry “Well
done, Hercules, now thou crushest the snake!” That is the way to make
an offence gracious, though few have the grace to do it.
That's a brilliant idea! So if the audience boos, you can shout 'Well done, Hercules, now you crush the snake!' That's how you turn a disaster into something great, though not many people can do it.
That's genius! If people start booing, you just yell 'Great job, Hercules, now crush that snake!' and you can turn a disaster into something amazing. Not many people know how to save a bad moment like that though.
brilliant idea if people boo yell well done turns disaster into something great
For the rest of the Worthies?
What about the other worthies?
So what about the other Nine Worthies?
what about the others
I will play three myself.
I will play three of them myself.
I'll play three of them.
ill play three
Thrice-worthy gentleman!
O, three times worthy gentleman!
What a triple threat of a gentleman!
three times worthy
Shall I tell you a thing?
Can I tell you something?
Want to hear something?
wanna hear something
We attend.
We attend.
We attend.
we attend
We will have, if this fadge not, an antic. I beseech you, follow.
If this doesn't work out, we'll have an amusing entertainment. I beg you, follow me.
If this whole thing doesn't come together, we'll do something funny instead. Please, come with me.
if this doesnt work well do something funny come with me
_Via_, goodman Dull! Thou has spoken no word all this while.
Come on, Goodman Dull! You haven't spoken a word this whole time.
Hey Dull! You haven't said anything at all this whole time.
hey dull u havent said anything
Nor understood none neither, sir.
And I haven't understood anything either, sir.
And I didn't understand any of it either, sir.
i didnt understand anything
_Allons!_ we will employ thee.
Let's go! We'll put you to work.
Come on, we'll find something for you to do.
lets go well use u
I’ll make one in a dance, or so; or I will play on the tabor to the
Worthies, and let them dance the hay.
I'll dance in it, or something like that; or I could play the drum for the Worthies while they do a country dance.
I could dance in it, or I could play the drum while they all dance a country dance.
ill dance or play drums while they dance country dance
Most dull, honest Dull! To our sport, away.
Most dull, honest Dull! Let's go have our fun.
You're perfect, Dull! Let's go have some fun.
perfect lets go have fun
The Reckoning
A pure intermission scene—comic relief between the Act 4 eavesdropping crisis and the Act 5 finale. It does essential staging work: establishing the Nine Worthies plan that will make up most of 5-2's second half. But its real value is the portrait of academic and aristocratic vanity colliding: Armado and Holofernes are mirror images, each performing intelligence in a different register, each failing in the same way.
If this happened today…
Two LinkedIn influencers meet at a networking event. One is obsessed with classical philosophy and Latin quotes. The other drops jargon from an entirely different discipline. Each privately thinks the other is a poseur. Meanwhile the intern next to them whispers perfectly devastating commentary under his breath, and the intern's friend—who has been present the whole time—cheerfully admits he understood none of it and offers to DJ the after-party.