Michael:

One of the distinguishing features of Much Ado is the amount of prose in relation to verse. I wonder why this is. The sparring between Beatrice and Benedict is prose, and so, as we would expect, are the low-life scenes of Dogberry and the watch. The scenes concerning Hero and Claudio are verse.

The opening of the first scene, really just a few lines, is concerned with plot, but just enough to explain Don Pedro and his officers coming to visit Leonato in Messina. I can’t think of other plays set in Messina, but there must be some. But right away, l. 28, Beatrice asks after “Signor Montanto,” Benedick, whom she begins to mock over the next sixty or so lines. This sets up the duel between them for the next 20 or so lines. The witty dueling is mainly sharp, but seemingly good humored sparring between what appear to be old acquaintances, maybe not friends exactly, but good humored associates. Beatrice appears to win this set when Benedick bows out, and Beatrice complains that he has bowed out before, seemingly when she has got the best of him. This suggests that their good humored jousting has a history, and thus their acquaintance goes back as well: “I know you of old,” Beatrice says at the end.

We hear nothing more about the war, which doesn’t appear to mount to much, that has brought Don Pedro’s troops to Messina.

Benedick’s light mockery continues when Claudio begins to tell him about his interest in Hero, the daughter of their host Leonato. Benedick seems to have no interest in women or marriage and twits Claudio about his sudden interest. He seems to treat Claudio’s interest as a kind of interruption of male friendship, something that suggest perhaps a young man’s state of mind, not ready to admit the next phase of life. And some joking about cuckoldry seems to support it.

Claudio finds a more sympathetic interlocutor in Don Pedro, who must be a bit older than the two “boys.” Significantly Claudio asks Don Pedro if Leonato has any other children, a question that clearly pertains to Hero’s financial prospects. It needn’t necessarily indicate any mercenary motives on Claudio’s part, but it is a question that suggests a serious interest in marriage. What is odd, however, is Don Pedro’s offer to woo Hero in masked disguise for Claudio. Is he concerned about Claudio’s inexperience?

But then Antonio tells his brother Leonato that Don Pedro has told Claudio that he will woo Hero, not for Claudio but for himself. It’s a “good sharp fellow” who has reported this to Antonio.

And then Don John, Pedro’s brother, reveals himself to Conrade as someone who revels in mischief. No reason is given for his destructive motives, a serious “motiveless malignancy,” it appears.
Another of Don John’s companions, Borachio — does his name suggest drunkenness? — comes in with the correct intel, that it’s Claudio that Don Pedro is wooing Hero for, though he interprets it as Pedro obtaining Hero, then transferring her to Claudio. Here Don John sees enough material to make mischief. He also suggests a quasi motive for his desire to destroy Claudio, that he was preferred over him.

So a plot is suggested as well as the somewhat mysterious relation between Beatrice and Benedick. Only the latter two seem to promise real interest.

Dusty:

Yes, it’s notable that most of the first two acts are in prose. The only verse in the first two acts comes in Act 1, when Don Pedro and Claudio have an exchange about Hero, and in Act 2, when Claudio has a soliloquy. The shift to verse comes in Act 4, perhaps to signal that the play is then veering toward tragedy.

The quiet opening of 1.1 reminds me that the director (Kenneth Branagh) of the 1993 filmed version, though an experienced Shakespearean actor himself, wanted a louder one, with Don Pedro and his fellow soldiers, on horseback, ride vigorously into Messina, the rising and falling of the riders suggesting bluntly that this is going to be a sexy comedy.

Yes, Beatrice and Benedick seem to have known each other, and to have sparred with each other in a “merry war,” for some time. The first scene quickly sets up Claudio as having suddenly decided for marriage and Benedick resolved to “live a bachelor.” The audience, sensing that this is a comedy, expects each of them to encounter obstacles and surprises, and especially expects that it will be fun to watch Benedick, “the savage bull,” to submit to the “yoke” of marriage. I agree that Don Pedro offer to help Claudio is unexplained: Claudio has not suggested any diffidence about wooing Hero. He has only suggested that he although he is ready to marry, he thinks he had better proceed slowly (“with a longer treatise”), but Don Pedro thinks he should proceed apace.

Don Pedro’s plan to woo Hero for Claudio is instantly overheard in 1.2 but misunderstood, and reported to Leonato, the kind of “mistake” that, in comedy, leads to temporary trouble. But in the next scene (1.3) it is overheard correctly. (Overhearing, whether unintentional or deliberate, plays a big role in this play.) As you say, Don John’s motivation is not clear. Maybe, as you suggest, he resents having been passed over, and is jealous of Claudio, now the “right hand” of Don Pedro. He is melancholy and discontented, a confessed “plain dealing villain.” Does he remind us more of Richard III than of Iago? Here is another obstacle for Claudio to overcome, but at this point I don’t think we worry a lot: we’re still in a comedy.

Dusty:

In Act 2 Beatrice, like Benedik, resolves not to marry. So the audience looks ahead to her getting her comeuppance too. In the masked scene that follows all the men and women seem to tease each other the way B and B tease each other, so maybe this kind of sparring between men and women is part of Sicilian culture.

I was surprised when Claudio, thinking he has been betrayed by Don Pedro, turns against Hero (rather than against Don Pedro). Is this a sign that he’s impulsive and unreliable as a lover, or a suggestion that homosociality trumps heterosexual love? And I was puzzled by Beatrice saying that Benedik “lent” his heart to Beatrice “awhile” (2.1.277). Does this mean that Benedick unpersuasively wooed her once?
The first misunderstanding is cleared up, and Claudio now declares his love for Hero. It’s notable that she is speechless. Is this a sign of her modesty, or another sign that men in this play take for granted their dominance over women? Then another little surprise when Don Pedro seems at 2.1.326 to imagine pursuing Beatrice for himself, but he quickly switches to the role of Cupid. Having proven to be successful in facilitating the match between Claudio and Hero, he now proposes, with help, to promote a match between Beatrice and Benedik, though this time it will be against the declared wishes of the principals. Once again we get confirmation that we are in the comfortable world of romantic comedy.

2.2 returns to Don John, who is determined to “cross” the marriage between Hero and Claudio. So we have plotters working to bring B and B together, and other plotters working to break up the match between the other lovers. Borachio will offer what in Othello will later be called “ocular proof.” But I think the audience doesn’t worry – – – yet.

In 2.3 Benedick at first seems to be laughing at Claudio for falling in love (query: had Claudio formerly scorned love?), but we quickly realize that he is talking about himself, and trying to reassure himself that he will not lapse into love, but realizing that he may be vulnerable: “May I be so converted . . .” I cannot tell; I think not.” We then get a scene of broad comedy, in which the plotters (Don Pedro, Leonato, and Claudio) all aim to be overheard (more overhearing) by Benedick. The scene is funny in a relaxed way, as we (and the plotters) look forward to the eventual meeting of Beatrice and Benedick. When it comes, it’s only a brief exchange at the end of the scene, just a taste of what is to come later.

But as the plotters prepare to bait the hook for Benedick, they call for a song that Benedick will overhear, and it’s somewhat surprisingly a song about men as “deceivers,” advising women to realize that “the fraud of men was ever so,” and therefore to ignore their wooing and live single. Why this song now? Is it another sign that women should beware men?

Michael:

I had forgotten the way the ’93 Branagh film began, certainly more arresting than the somewhat prosaic beginning of the play. I recall the rather annoying portrayal of Dogberry — by Keanu Reeves was it?

Yes, I think Beatrice’s reference to the loan of Benedick’s heart and his winning of her heart “with false dice” indicate their past interest in each other. And it seems to contribute to their mutual acerbity to each other now. But of course it also indicates where things will go. Their symmetrical antipathy to marriage also lets the audience know as much.

And the more Benedick protests his antipathy to marriage in 2.3, we understand, the more likely he will go in that direction. Bathasar’s song is curious in that it seems as if it should be sung by a woman, warning women against trust in men, but it’s sung amongst a gathering of men. But it’s warning will be fulfilled before long.

The scene of the gulling of Benedick is amusing, and the account of Beatrice’s pining for him seems simply to exaggerate the situation, but without her wit. And Benedick is easily won, which may suggest that his earlier acerbity was put on.
Am I right that Beatrice is consistently more witty than Benedick? Her wit seems sharper, more imaginative.

Michael:

Act 3 begins with the coordinate gulling of Beatrice. Her response to the overhearing of Benedick’s supposed love for her (3.1. 107-116) is something we saw in the sonnet collection, an abbreviated sonnet.

The men now tease Benedick with his changed appearance, and he claims to have a toothache. But we also learn that he has shaved his beard, which Leonato suggests makes him look younger. The homeosocial teasing now sets him off from the “guys.” And he exits with Leonato, Beatrice’s uncle, presumably to discuss his desire to woo Beatrice.

Don John and Don Pedro seem to have little trouble to convince Claudio to think again about his marriage proposal to Hero. They will give him the ocular proof that night.

3.3 brings in Dogberry and the watch, whom we almost feel we’ve seen before, no doubt because Dogberry’s characteristic language is malaprop, or otherwise getting things backward, as at ll. 14-15. The discussion about policing between Dogberry and the Watchman seems generally sensible: be as minimalist as possible and catch as much sleep as you can on your watch. Of course the watch will prove useful in the plot, pretty much in spite of themselves.

Borachio and Conrade discuss and describe the villainy in the supposed overhearing of Hero’s welcome to Borachio, actually Margaret of course disguised in Hero’s cloths. It recapitulates the gulling of Benedick and Beatrice, but now with sinister intent, and it’s overheard by Seacoal and the Watchman, even though they don’t quite understand it.

I’m not sure we know why Beatrice is feeling out of sorts when she come in to the meeting of Hero and Margaret, or why Hero had said her heart is “exceedingly heavy.” Beatrice is unexpectedly not witty, as if she’s been transformed by thought of Benedick’s love for her. Instead Margaret and Hero are mildly witty.
When the watch come to Leonato with their intel, Leonato’s haste and their inability to speak plainly defer the understanding of the plot against Hero.

And now the sudden turn to tragic possibilities.

Dusty:

I’m not sure why Hero should speak in verse in 3.1, when she is setting up the trick on Beatrice. You would think Shakespeare would reserve verse for the “serious” part of the play.

We now have three separate plotting schemes in the play, two of which are coordinated: arranging to have Benedick overhear his friends; arranging to have Beatrice overhear Hero; and arranging to have Claudio and Don Pedro spy on (but not overhear) Margaret, thinking she is Hero. I think we are meant to think that Hero’s charge that Beatrice is not only proud but “self-endeared” is accurate, as indicated by Beatrice’s own response when she overhears it.
In 3.2 Benedick’s friends, even though they have worked to get him to become a lover, now tease him for it. (The same thin happens in 3.4, when Hero and Margaret tease Beatrice.) I suppose Shakespeare wants to continue the comedy. In the latter part of the scene Claudio and Don Pedro are extraordinarily credulous, quick to believe Don John’s accusations and quick to doubt Hero. It would be hard to play this as comedy, which means we have to entertain serious doubts about male perfidy.
In 3.3, with Dogberry and Verges, after some amusing malaprops and linguistic blunders we get yet another instance of overhearing, a plot device that Shakespeare relies on pretty heavily in this play. At this point the audience probably assumes that Don John’s wickedness will be discovered in time. In 3.5, when Dogberry and Verges try to report what they’ve heard, we’re still in the world of comedy, and assume that things will turn out well.

Dusty:

Act 4 brings the big public scene, in which Claudio and everybody else on stage speak in verse. It’s quite cruel and shocking that Claudio not only breaks off the marriage without any examination of the evidence — except to interview Borachio– but that he leads her to the altar and then publicly shames her. (Note, by the way, that pre-marital sex between engaged couples seems OK in Messina.) And it’s even more cruel and shocking that Hero’s father quickly joins the other men in denouncing Hero. Her only defender is the Friar. Benedick raises doubts about “John the Bastard,” though it’s not clear why he is suspicious.

The Friar’s plan to save Hero by staging her “death” is another device that Shakespeare deploys elsewhere, in Romeo and Juliet and in The Winter’s Tale, though the objective this time is to get Claudio to reconsider and regret his accusation — and if that fails to spirit Hero off to a convent.

Daringly, this leads directly to the long-delayed meeting of Beatrice and Benedick, but it’s not the comic scene of embarrassed lovers that we were led to expect it would be. Instead, it’s a rather touching scene at first, with one-line exchanges in which each confesses love, but it suddenly turns “tragic,” or maybe melodramatic, when Beatrice bids Benedick to “Kill Claudio.” That seems a little “harsh” (as kids would say now). Wouldn’t it be enough for Benedick to go to Claudio, press him for his “evidence,” and persuade him to withdraw his accusation? (That’s in fact what Benedick seems to agree to do.)

We’re not long left fearing for the worst, because in the next scene (4.2) Dogberry and Verges now manage, despite themselves, to expose Don’s John’s villainous plot. And the scene closes with Dogberry comically topping himself with his final speech: “O that I had been writ down an ass!” By now I think we’re pretty sure that things will eventually turn out well, though we don’t know just how or when.

As a legal side note, it’s interesting that what is overheard by the watch is now admitted as conclusive evidence. And yet we have previously seen in Acts 2 and 3 instances in which what is designed to be overheard is in fact false, or at least misleading. And we saw back in Act 1 two instances of overhearing, one of which got things wrong and one got them right.

Michael:

The most shocking figure in the wedding scene is Leonato, the father. He starts out instructing the friar to be brief, but then participates in all the encircling of Hero after Claudio’s accusation. Then he delivers a 23-line speech that underscores the accusation, totally ignoring Hero’s protestations of innocence. He takes Beatrice’s admission that she had not been Hero’s bedfellow the night before as confirmation of Hero’s guilt: “Hence from her, let her die.” The friar, who doesn’t seem to know her, sees her innocence, which Leonato continues to disbelieve. Now that the play is veering toward tragedy, the friar comes up with the “romance” suggestion of a reported death that will soften Claudio. Which seems decidedly optimistic.
Benedick’s faith in Hero seems what redeems him at this point, just as he declares his love for Beatrice. The setting of their mutual declarations in the middle of Hero’s disgrace and abandonment by her father seems to keep it from becoming romantic. And her request, “Kill Claudio,” puts his character as a lover into a test that requires separation from the homosociality of his war buddies. And when he raises his hand to swear love, Beatrice demands that he use it another way, presumably to kill Hero’s slanderer.

Michael:

With Act 5 Leonato has a rather long-winded rejection of counsel that ends with the vow to confront Claudio and Don Pedro. Finally Leonato is able to accuse them, which leads to a quarrel and the strange possibility of a duel between the old men. Don Pedro is steadfast in his belief in Hero’s guilt. Benedick’s entry at this point separates him from his old companions and he refuses the wit that he was earlier characterized by. Claudio says rather nastily that they nearly had their noses snapped off by two old men without teeth. But Benedick doesn’t laugh and delivers his challenge to Claudio, refusing all attempts at wit.

When Don Pedro and Claudio encounter the watch, Borachio’s confession forces them to see that they’ve done and draws Claudio’s vow to do anything Leonato will have him do. The singing of an epitaph and the marrying of his niece seem a strange penitence for Leonato to demand. Why would they want to be allied with such a cruel and heartless sort as Claudio. Claudio’s character seems one of the unsettled elements of the play; the actor playing him would have work to do to make him simpatico enough for the concluding union with Hero. But it appears we must accept this element of Claudio

The short scene with Benedick and Margaret restores some lightness, including his attempt to sing, then the confession of his inability to compose love verse, not having been born under a rhyming planet. With Beatrice’s entrance there’s a brief return to wit, though under the shadow of Hero’s unhappiness. Benedick’s concluding lines suggest an attempt at a lover’s farewell, but with a prosaic follow-up.

Puzzling why Claudio needs someone to read his epitaph for Hero. Once again music accompanies the solemn moment in the play. I don’t know why graves should yawn and yield their dead. Perhaps the solemnity of the scene is meant to rehabilitate Claudio to some extent.
The friar has the last word on Hero’s innocence, but Leonato wants to extend that to Don Pedro and Claudio because of their “error.” Odd that Margaret continues to be blamed. With some tentativeness Benedick raises the question of the friar’s services to him and Beatrice. One would think that music must come with the entrance of the women with Antonio, but it’s not noted.

The final meeting of Benedick and Beatrice toys with their mutual hesitance toward each other, but then they capitulate when papers containing Benedick’s “halting sonnet” and Beatrice’s paper expressing love for Benedick are brought forward. Beatrice is given no lines, but must convey her acquiescence with gesture.

We usually think of this play alongside AYLI. This time through both of them, I think I favor Much Ado. The Beatrice and Benedick scenes seem both witty and satisfying, and Benedick is clearly less a stick that Orlando. The problems of Claudio’s lack of appeal might be solved with good acting, making sure we see his faults as immaturity and the influence of his military pals.

Have you ever seen or heard Berlioz’s Beatrice et Benedict? I haven’t, but it’s said to have some lovely music. Not often performed.

Dusty:

On the whole, I find Act 5 unsatisfying. In 5.1 Leonato, who is a party to the Friar’s plot, now suddenly, and without explanation, has second thoughts about Hero’s guilt/innocence. His long speech expressing inconsolable grief is puzzling, and turns out, only at the end, to be because he now thinks Hero has been “belied.”

It’s notable that in this scene Benedick challenges Claudio privately, a sharp contrast to Claudio’s public accusation of Hero. But the whole business of Benedick’s challenge, prompted by Beatrice’s demand that he “kill Claudio,” seems muddled. First, Beatrice’s demand, as I suggested before, seems extreme. Just as Claudio and Don Pedro, when presented with fake proof, jump to the conclusion that Hero is false, without seeking confirmatory evidence or giving Hero a chance to reply, so Beatrice demands that Benedick kill Claudio without questioning him or giving him a chance to explain himself, or to withdraw his accusation. Second, it’s not clear how Benedick is going to conduct the challenge. Then it turns out, as the Friar’s plan matures and supplants Beatrice’s plan, Claudio is going to be “punished” by visiting Hero’s tomb and then fake-marrying Hero’s cousin. So Beatrice’s plan has to be quietly dropped, though Benedick doesn’t get around to withdrawing his challenge until after the love matches are concluded.

You’re right to wonder why Leonato would want Claudio in his family, whether as the husband of his niece or his daughter. Claudio seems to get off the hook pretty easily.

Once the plan of the fake marriage is announced at th end of 5.1 , I think the audience is reassured that all will turn out well.

5.2 gets Beatrice and Benedick together, in private. I wonder how the scene should be played. On the one hand, Benedick opens their exchange with offering to kiss Beatrice, and then explains the challenge to Claudio. They gently tease each other, but on the whole their wit seems muted. The scene breaks off with them in full accord. It’s a little odd then that in 5.4, when they meet again, they go back to teasing, and have to be talked into accepting marriage. And now Benedick finally kisses her.

I suppose that Claudio is somewhat rehabilitated by displaying his grief in verse. He seems to be a better poet than Benedick: what does that mean? But he still seems to be callous. Even though the play began with Claudio as almost lovesick, he is ready to take another wife as part of his punishment/penance, and has very little to say, except “Another Hero!,” when his old beloved unmasks. He leaves a bad taste in the audience’s mouth, and I am not sure whether “good acting” would be enough to get rid of it. He doesn’t deserve the reward he gets.

After the men have been shown to be less than the women — Beatrice, as you rightly say, is a better with than Benedick, and Claudio is morally inferior to Hero — it is the men who get the closing lines. Hero says nothing after line 64, when she certifies that “I am a maid,” and Beatrice says nothing after line 96, when she says she will marry Benedick. But we get another thirty-plus lines, when Benedick gets the floor, makes up with Claudio, and tells his pals to cut out the joking about married men.

The comedy ends conventionally with a dance, but not before word is brought in that Don John has been captured and will be punished, which brings resolution on the level of justice, and ties up the last loose end.