Marquise's Reviews > Much Ado About Nothing

Step aside, Romeo and Juliet! Make room for Master Shakespeare's most amusing and hottest couple!


("Beatrice and Benedick," by Hughes Merle)

I wasn't expecting this to be so good as it turned out. The Bard is a better dramatist than comedian from what I've read of his work so far, and his comedic plots tend to be borderline silly, which is the point, it being comedy after all. But whatever one thinks of his humorous plays, one thing is undeniable: the man can write beautifully! His command of language is astonishing--no wonder he put so many words in the dictionary--and he plays with words and phrases with such ease as if he'd been born to create language, his puns have layers of irony that escaped me at first, and I've had to reread each Scene and Act twice over, which I never do, just to grasp the full meaning of everything. In fact, I was reading two editions at the same time, the Arden annotated one and Signet, and from this experience I recommend you read the annotated one, there are parts that have subtler nuances quite worth learning about!

The plot has the vintage Shakespeare storytelling: two handsome noblemen arrive to Messina with the entourage of Prince Pedro of Aragon on a visit to Leonato of Sicily, and there they fall for the governor's daughter and niece respectively, Hero and Beatrice. But whilst Claudio is quick to admit his infatuation and express his desire to marry the beautiful Hero, his bosom friend Benedick is adamantly against both love and marriage despite the obvious sexual tension between him and Beatrice.

Don Pedro. I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.
Benedick. With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord, not with love. Prove that ever I lose more blood with love than I will get again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a ballad maker’s pen and hang me up at the door of a brothel house for the sign of blind Cupid.
Don Pedro. Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument.
Benedick. If I do, hang me in a bottle° like a cat and shoot at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on the shoulder and called Adam.

The object of his funnily contradictory affection is equally opposed to love and marriage, and wastes no chance to get back at Benedick. Even before he appears on the stage, she's already called him a fractious swordfighter ("Mountanto"), a womaniser ("challenged Cupid to the flight"), a glutton ("he's a valiant trencherman"), unmanly ("And a good soldier to a lady"), a dummy ("he's no less than a stuffed man"), and incapable of besting a woman ("four of his five wits went halting off"), and so much more within just one short first scene. And when they finally met, sparks fly and the banter is sublime, the best I've read in a comedy or otherwise!

Benedick. What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?
Beatrice. Is it possible Disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to Disdain if you come in her presence.
Benedick. Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies,° only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for truly I love none.
Beatrice. A dear happiness to women! They would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humor for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.

The sexual tension between them is so off the charts, and some of the phrases are so blindingly bawdy that I am left amazed and wondering, "How did good old Will get away with publishing that?"

Becoming weary of this incessant barbed exchange of pleasantries and recognising the attraction both are so industriously denying, the people round them decide to take the bull by the horns and, led by well-intentioned meddler Prince Pedro, decide to contrive a plan to get them to admit to their feelings. Divided in two teams, the males arrange for "casually" talking within Benedick's earshot so he "accidentally" overhears them discuss how Beatrice is sick with love for Benedick, and the females arrange to do the same within Beatrice's earshot, letting her know that Benedick is a hair-breadth away from dying from lovesickness.



The hilarious result can be guessed at, both lovers are trapped into believing the farce and start to behave better towards the other, mindful of not hurting the other's feelings. Thankfully, though, the banter continues as piquant as ever.

Then disaster strikes when Don Juan, the rotten illegitimate brother of Prince Pedro, tells lies that lead to the break-up of Hero and Claudio.



Humiliated by the public rejection and scorn of her betrothed, Hero is left for dead, and would have had not the priest that was going to marry her come up with a plan reminiscent of the one in "Romeo and Juliet": fake the bride's death.



It doesn't go horribly wrong as in Juliet's case, thank the blind god, and it leads to Claudio eventually realising his mistake and righting it. In solving the mystery of how Hero was wronged, a new creation of Shakespeare shines through in its absurdly comic incompetence: Constable Dogberry, who has this tendency to use the wrong word for the right meaning, like "opinioned" for pinioned, "dissembly" for assembly, "suspect" for respect. And in the middle of this tragicomic episode, Benedick finally says the verboten words upon seeing Beatrice bawling her eyes out at her cousin's disgrace and offering to champion the lady's honour:

Benedick. Surely I do believe your fair cousin is wronged.
Beatrice. Ah, how much might the man deserve of me that would right her!
Benedick. Is there any way to show such friendship?
Beatrice. A very even way, but no such friend.
Benedick. May a man do it?
Beatrice. It is a man’s office, but not yours.
Benedick. I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?

But before him and Claudio can duel, things are solved in typical Shakespearean fashion, with the reappearance of the "dead" damsel. And the two couples are married, and I assume live happily bantering ever after.



I've always found it easy to grasp Shakespeare's language, and I never had read annotated versions of any of his plays before, this is my first time looking at the endnotes, and I confess that this contributed to the very sexy feel of the play to me. I hope others will also grab such an edition for more enjoyment of the delightful wordplay. Oh, and the inclusion of a kiss also surprised me greatly. I had a good chuckle imagining how it'd look in period Elizabethan theatre, where women couldn't act and female roles had to be taken up by males. Very humorous to think about!