SOURCE: Partee, Morriss Henry. “The Comic Equilibrium of Much Ado about Nothing.” Upstart Crow 12 (1992): 60-73.

[In the following essay, Partee probes the thematic conflicts of Much Ado about Nothing by exploring the play's structural tensions between comedy and tragedy. The critic also examines the function of the Beatrice-Benedick subplot as a device that steers the story away from its more disturbing concerns—including adultery, illegitimacy, and sexual transgression—in order to highlight the play's themes of reconciliation, joy, and matrimony.]

Finding the balance between the two plots of Much Ado About Nothing continues to challenge readers. While most critics agree that Claudio's relationship with Hero forms the underlying structure of the play, the Benedick and Beatrice material has always attracted far more interest and acclaim. This fascination with the background or subplot calls into question Shakespeare's artistry—the ponderous comedy of situation may seem unworthy to co-exist with, much less to contain, the brilliant light-hearted comedy of manners. Such a literary reading proceeds from the questionable assumption that every dramatic figure should have the full panoply of emotional depth assigned to actual people. The diversity of attributes assigned to Benedick and Beatrice naturally offers the intuitions of critics far more scope for explication than does the relatively straightforward narrative of attraction, betrayal, and reconciliation that surround Hero and Claudio. On the other hand, respect for the play's original (and primary) status as an immediate dramatic production may correct this distortion of the subsequent literary artifact. Attention to the temporal succession of episodes in performance (whether publicly in the theater or privately in the study) reveals a superb generation and release of tension in the small world of Messina.

Framed by the ongoing broader political antagonism of Don Pedro and Don John of Arragon, Much Ado About Nothing successfully tempers the potential tragedy of Claudio's actions with the resolution of the deep-seated conflict between Benedick and Beatrice. The momentary hiatus in the antagonism between the brothers from Arragon offers the bastard the opportunity for introducing his machinations into the fragile arena of Messina. This displaced animosity complicates the transition of Count Claudio from his prior military obligation to Don Pedro to the romantic concerns long held by Benedick, his new friend and social inferior. To mute the effect of such intense animosity in the main plot, Shakespeare not only employs superficial, often incoherent characterization but also implants extensive implausibility into the action. These logical discontinuities help the audience to look past local incidents of emotional involvement with these one-dimensional dramatic figures. In addition, the playwright creates a background of unusual vitality. The emergence of Beatrice and Benedick from their isolation and underlying melancholy generates sufficient interest to help distance the intense confrontation of the primary action. The play's comic irresolution into forgiveness ultimately detaches all characters from the consequences of their action. Much ado fades into nothingness.

I. ANXIETY IN MESSINA

Shakespeare encapsulates the tension surrounding Claudio's betrayal of Hero in the church scene by placing this potentially tragic action within the broader context of Don Pedro's inexplicable incursion into Messina. Assigning the glory of the military overthrow of Don John to Count Claudio, Shakespeare gives Don Pedro chiefly personal and political authority. Therefore, the ruler of Arragon must bear full responsibility for casually introducing the malevolence of his illegitimate sibling into the unsuspecting and defenseless society of Messina. Moreover, this leader not only fails to provide subsequent monitoring of his brother's activities but also offers the opportunity for the bastard's machinations. Neglecting political responsibility, Don Pedro demonstrates interest primarily in socializing with Leonato and confirming his subordinates in marriage. The shadow brother simply takes his cues from Don Pedro. Perverting the theatrical devices which Don Pedro benignly uses to secure the marriages of his subordinates, Don John continually seeks to “appropriate a power the play seeks to lodge with the legitimate brother.”¹

Shakespeare circumscribes the ability of Don Pedro to function as a stabilizing force in this work. Although the play gives no definitive age for him, his susceptibility to the conspiracy of Don John, his status as a potential lover, and his close association with the exceptionally young Claudio could suggest youth and inexperience.² And although the alliance of Claudio and Don Pedro appears secure—indeed, Richard A. Levin³ argues their relationship to be excessively enmeshed—even the secluded Hero knows that political relationships are inherently unstable.⁴ Moreover, further distancing his status as a ruler from the focus of the play, Don Pedro's ambiguous role as a potential lover himself challenges class structure. Where even Hero, the daughter of the governor of Messina, is beneath his birth (II. i. 165), Don Pedro's proposal of marriage to the dependent Beatrice reveals a disregard for his social obligations to his state (II. i. 326; II. iii. 168-70).⁵

The highly structured and fragile society in Messina magnifies the impact of such destabilizing forces. Whereas Venice always represents an exotic and sophisticated city for Shakespeare, Messina—which can with reasonable confidence rely on the watch of Dogberry for security—suddenly receives an influx of a conspicuously cosmopolitan army: Don Pedro of Arragon, Claudio of Florence, and Benedick of Padua. “Messina is at once a world with too much control and too little—the worst of all possibilities since it causes confusion and anger, as well as the feeling of being manipulated.”⁶ The absence of an alternate, more ideal, world intensifies the sense of compression and magnifies the impact of scandal as Shakespeare portrays “the absoluteness of the evil of slander.”⁷ The unquestioned acceptance of patriarchal authority heightens the sense of constriction. Although the dependent Beatrice can flaunt these demands with impunity, Hero (like Cordelia in King Lear) manifests—at least on the surface—an almost supernal docility concerning her marriage.⁸

The governor of this city, the aged and feeble Leonato, demonstrates neither insight nor authority. A clear terminus to his authority already appears in the emphasis on his having only one child, a female in an intensely patriarchal society (I. i. 294-95; IV. i. 127-28). His primary function—besides welcoming Don Pedro to Messina—consists of enunciating the expectations of the patriarchy to Hero. An uneasy mixture of violence and passivity, this figure alternates between raging at Hero and railing at her abusers (IV. i. 190-200; V. i. 45-109). Lack of a strong secular center of political authority necessitates the sudden insertion of the Friar as the agent of social reconciliation. Leonato then lapses into almost complete submission: “Being that I flow in grief, / The smallest twine may lead me” (IV. i. 249-50). Nor does he develop initiative. When the watch has vindicated Hero, his determined refusal to confront disruptive influences (V. i. 259-61) resembles more the ineptitude to which Dogberry counsels the watch (III. iii. 28-82) than the rage of an abused father and magistrate.

An awareness of time's passing gives an undercurrent of urgency to Much Ado About Nothing. Reflecting comedy's typical employment of the fantasy of a timeless eternity, Beatrice contemplates an eternity of jesting with bachelors in heaven (II. i. 48-49), while Hero fantasizes about being married forever tomorrow (III. i. 101). But more profoundly, the special characteristics of this play come from “the manner in which ‘time and place’ do not ‘cease to matter,’ but matter very greatly.”⁹ The spacial limitation of the setting solely to Messina emphasizes the effect of time on the characters. Even the bland Hero has melancholy premonitions of the future; her heart is exceedingly heavy as she thinks of her wedding dress (III. iv. 24-25). Beatrice more specifically foresees the decay of marital relationships (II. i. 72-80), and Benedick laments the ephemerality of reputation (V. ii. 77-80). Timing, of course, profoundly affects the plot. Dogberry's inability to communicate his apprehension of the malefactors to Leonato in timely fashion precipitates the anguish of Hero; the news of Don John's stealthy departure comes just in time to confirm the confessions of Borachio and Conrade.

The compression of the ambience of Messina encourages the audience to see a personal inertia in the dramatic figures. The pun on the similar pronunciation of nothing and noting in the title of the play immediately introduces the theme of static contemplation. The lack of autonomy of the characters reduces them to mere noting or observing of others.¹⁰ Claudio has carefully noted Hero before going to war (I. i. 298), and the sparring of Beatrice and Benedick necessarily proceeds from close observation of each other. The plot itself depends on even more disengagement: eavesdropping or overhearing dominates the action. Dogberry instructs the watch to observe but not to apprehend malefactors. Don Pedro and Claudio are content merely to overhear the supposed infidelity of Hero. Obviously, a less emotionally restricted Claudio would have immediately confronted the woman he supposes to be Hero and her paramour, thus exposing the stratagem of Don John. And, of course, a major source of humor in the play derives from the benign gulling of Beatrice and Benedick as they listen in on supposedly private counsels.

This temperamental passivity leads to a dangerous deadening of the intellect in the dramatic figures. “Throughout the play every character is required to observe and judge, and almost every character judges poorly.”¹¹ All levels of society are affected. The highly placed Don Pedro and Claudio as well as Leonato misjudge Hero while the lowly Dogberry can see the ignorance of Verges, but not his own (III. v. 9-12). Incapable of focusing on any topic and bewildered by words, Dogberry can penetrate the treachery of Borachio only by implausible fortune. Throughout the play this constable maintains his concern for dignity; he fears (correctly) that the villains do not respect his place and years (IV. ii. 74-75). Neither Benedick nor Beatrice can see through the deception of the overhearing, and even when they are teased later, they show no indignation at being manipulated. All of the lovers in this romantic comedy must rely on external agents to establish satisfactory relationships. Benedick and Beatrice as well as Claudio “suffer from self-absorption, with its corollary of misplaced faith in the sufficiency of one's own knowledge, and thus all three are easily led into mistakes about themselves and about others.”¹² A complete resolution of this stubbornness is far from assured. Benedick concludes with his determination to be indifferent to the opinions of others. “Since I do purpose to marry, I will think nothing to any purpose that the world can say against it, and therefore never flout at me for what I have said against it” (V. iv. 105-08).

The conspicuous sexual tension which so obviously drives Claudio's aggression towards Hero transpires against a subtle background of the melancholy surrounding the minor characters. Shakespeare assigns some interiority to the buffoon Dogberry by the startling discordant revelation that this constable has had losses (IV. ii. 84). And we discover that Hero and Beatrice have “noted” the dour expression of the caged and defanged Don John (II. i. 3-5). The humor surrounding Benedick and Beatrice especially derives from compensation for unhappiness. The past in Much Ado About Nothing holds few explicitly pleasant memories for these socially subordinate characters. We find that the mother of Beatrice cried as her daughter was born (II. i. 334-35), and at the news of Hero's engagement, Beatrice declares herself to be sunburned and unmarriageable. Benedick likewise has difficulty in securing longterm relationships. According to Beatrice, Benedick has trouble keeping friends, possibly because of his excessive dependency on them (I. i. 86-90). Isolation intensifies grief. Benedick aptly declares that “every one can master a grief but he that has it” (III. ii. 28-29). Like Brabantio in Othello and Macduff in Macbeth, Leonato scornfully refuses verbal consolation. Declaring his radically unique status, the grieving father would admit only a person with a mirror image of his suffering to offer comfort (V. i. 5-32).

Exclusive focus by critics on the compensating mechanism of wit generated between Benedick and Beatrice improperly ignores the underlying distress that necessitates the humor in the first place. Both figures show signs of continued injury caused by the verbal thrusts within the play. Although the merry war between Beatrice and Benedick offers the conventional society of Messina a momentary release from its tedium (I. i. 61-64), Beatrice recalls with some chagrin the earlier disruption of her relationship with Benedick (II. i. 278-82). Skillfully mocking Benedick's military and personal standing with Claudio and Don Pedro, Beatrice taunts Benedick by saying that as the Prince's jester he is often not noticed, but laughed at and beaten. Then he falls into a melancholy and does not eat (II. i. 146-150). Benedick worries about the possible truth of this jest, and indeed in act five Don Pedro and Claudio seek him out to amuse themselves (V. i. 122-24). And on the other hand, Benedick ridicules not only the appearance but also the wit of Beatrice, her one defense against her inherent lack of social standing as a poor relation of Leonato.

Verbal hostility extends far beyond these two sparring lovers. From the beginning, a constant verbal sparring tempers the emotional bonding between friends. A persistent, low-grade irritability persists throughout the entourage both of Don Pedro and Leonato. Benedick sneers at Claudio's interest in love just as Margaret will jibe at the newly smitten Beatrice later. This barely disguised hostility comes closer to the surface in the “honest slanders” (III. i. 84) which Hero applies to the hidden Beatrice (III. i), Claudio to the hidden Benedick (II. iii). Whereas socially mandated decorum initially maintains cordiality between the two leaders themselves, Leonato unproductively confronts Don Pedro and Claudio while awaiting vindication of Hero. And Claudio in his turn displays an unseemly contempt for the old man who was to be and is to be his father-in-law (V. i. 115-16).

The ubiquitous references to adultery and illegitimacy provide an ominous social context for the extreme innocence of Claudio. The malevolent Don John, of course, represents the tangible embodiment of bastardy. None of the figures in this play find that moral codes materially aid them in managing the torment and frustration arising from their fundamental ambivalence concerning chastity and sexuality.¹³ Jealousy powerfully drives Claudio to suspect first Don Pedro and then the illusory lover of Hero. Although Claudio demonstrates sufficient eloquence among his fellow males, he cannot verbally woo Hero. This lack of intellectual communication finds a counterpart in his emotional retardation. Oblivious to the difficulty in radical changes in human bonding patterns, he glorifies his absolutely platonic relationship with Hero as the necessary legitimate precursor to marriage (IV. i. 53-54).

Nevertheless, jesting can offer some relief. Words have, as Beatrice recognizes, a power to keep people “on the windy side of care” (II. i. 315). The alternative to revealing one's sorrow is to “waste inwardly” (III. i. 78). “The play's lighthearted, witty bawdy expresses and mutes sexual anxieties; it turns them into a communal joke and provides comic release and relief in specific ways.”¹⁴ Accordingly, Leonato jests publicly about the possible illegitimacy of Hero, and Benedick constantly reflects his masculine insecurity concerning being cuckolded. Beatrice herself recognizes the possibility of Benedick's impregnating her. She would not have him put her down, lest she “should prove the mother of fools” (II. i. 286).

However entertaining in itself, the gulling of Beatrice and Benedick nevertheless introduces a potentially tragic antagonism into the unravelling of the primary plot. As in A Midsummer Night's Dream, the leader—here Don Pedro—suggests a dramatic entertainment for alleviation of the frustrations attendant upon upcoming nuptials. Accordingly, in language of violence which constantly recognizes an intrusion upon the autonomy of Beatrice and Benedick, the conspirators seek to incorporate the wounded, but fiercely independent, agents into the general amorous ambience of Messina. The virtually instantaneous success of the schemers testifies to the fragility of the delusional—indeed self-destructive (III. i. 26-28)—animosity which has been generating the verbal sparring of the two. Nevertheless, social honor stands in the way of true intimacy. Stripping the focus of authority from the friar, Beatrice abjures the passivity of Leonato. She would have Benedick “Kill Claudio” (IV. i. 289). Such fierce loyalty to her friend, however intrinsically admirable, under the best circumstances offers a momentary threat to the ultimate harmonious union of a repentant Claudio and a vindicated Hero. At the worst outcome, this action of revenge against the young and formidable warrior could very well result in the death of her lover. Transposed into the genre of romance, Claudio as “an apprentice Othello” could easily kill someone, and Benedick certainly lacks the heroic stature of his literary predecessor, the Rinaldo of Ariosto's Orlando Furioso.¹⁵ Beatrice (and the audience) would have no way of knowing at this point that mere dismissal would greet Benedick's challenge to Claudio (V. i. 145-50).

The major tension of the play, of course, derives from Claudio's repudiation of Hero. The brittleness of this society and the explicit presentation of this attack on stage give this episode an unusual, almost inappropriate, weight. Reverberations of the passion displayed in the church scene make problematic any easy resolution into unrestrained good cheer. The personal authority of Rosalind will enable the audience to look past the attempted fratricide which underlies As You Like It, and the resilience of Viola will help shift our focus from the social unrest in the court of Orsino and in the household of Olivia in Twelfth Night. But in Much Ado About Nothing Hero lacks the personal dimension and Beatrice lacks the social standing to intervene effectively; as “obsessed by illusory dishonor, the Bastard's dupes intensify their own serio-comic ordeals.”¹⁶ The brutal public denouncement of Hero's supposed private sins generates not only her humiliation but also the intense anger of her father first towards her and then towards her accusers. Shakespeare certainly set himself a challenge to maintain a comic equilibrium in the midst of such raw tensions.

II. IMPLAUSIBILITY AND THE COMIC RESOLUTION

The energy with which Shakespeare invests the conflicts in Much Ado About Nothing requires a variety of on-going powerful devices to drain away the tension. Exaggerated implausibilities within the plot itself help to segment the potentially tragic action into episodes of merely comic intensity. The title's combination of energy and negation in its “much ado” and “nothing” has identified for the audience the ultimate lack of meaning at the outset of the performance; evil (represented by the one-dimensional Don John) has initially no cause and finally no effect. Whereas cunning in a motiveless malignancy like Iago would threaten the equilibrium of any play, here Don John lacks initiative and perspicacity. Completely out of touch with social and personal issues, he seems to believe firmly that Don Pedro truly woos Hero for himself (II. i. 155-57). Moreover, he relies entirely on Borachio for planning the deception of Claudio. A self-proclaimed plain dealing villain, he resorts to the coarsest of subterfuges. Appropriately, the least sophisticated clown in Shakespearean comedies foils this one-dimensional villain; full revelation of his duplicity can be only a matter of course—when, not if.

Despite the intensity of Claudio's confrontation with Hero, Shakespeare surrounds this encounter with sufficient absurdity to allow the audience a measure of comic detachment. First, we might reasonably expect the rumors and uncertainty surrounding Don Pedro's intentions in wooing Hero to have warned all concerned about jumping to conclusions in subsequent matters of wooing. Especially dubious would be any insights from Don John, who eagerly verified the rumor about the supposed treachery of his brother (II. i. 169-70). Second, obscurity surrounds the chamber-window scene, an event “whose non-representation is a precise corollary of its inscrutability.”¹⁷ Whereas a tragedy will place on stage Othello's overhearing of Cassio's supposed gloating to Iago of the infidelity of Desdemona, we learn about this deception in the comedy through the narration by the drunken Borachio (III. iii. 144-63), “a virtuoso display of lateral thinking.”¹⁸ We thus see the results of Don Pedro's own account of this episode (IV. i. 88-94) already knowing of the detection of the subterfuge. Third, Shakespeare gives no plausible explanation concerning the substitution of Margaret for Hero. Although Beatrice has been her bedfellow for the entire previous year, neither she nor Hero offers any reason for this particular hiatus.

The lack of diverse characteristics assigned to the figures in the main plot helps the audience focus on the external plot rather than conjecturing about some pain in an imaginary felt life. The major characters manifest a comic inconsistency rather than a tragic complexity. The conventional comic exclusion of productive work from the focus of the play prevents them from striking the audience with full humanity. The cessation of the civil war in Arragon leads to an indefinite holiday in Messina, a location where the primary enterprise consists of romance. Only a few of the lesser figures—the friar, the sexton, the boy—and the incompetent watch engage in their professional activities. This limitation of necessary human activity automatically eliminates a major source of character depth. The ineluctable ambiguity surrounding Don Pedro, the most powerful authority in the play, frustrates his emergence as a sympathetic, coherent character. He remains forever trapped within the layers of the playwright's revisions; the text itself, probably deriving from Shakespeare's foul-papers, offers “a becoming, a process, not a finished product.”¹⁹ Prospective characters such as the wife of Leonato and the son of Antonio appear in hints, only to vanish into wordless, actionless oblivion.²⁰ Thus we should not be too surprised that Don Pedro's initial status as a rival lover to Claudio conflicts with his later role as a genial “love-god” (II. i. 384-86). “The misapprehension of the father and uncle as to who the suitor is, since it promises a contretemps which never in fact occurs, has the effect of a false start.”²¹ As I have argued concerning the Antonio of The Merchant of Venice,²² Don Pedro fades from his early significance as the pace of the play speeds increasingly toward the reconciliation and marriage of the young lovers. Originally the heroic conqueror of Don John, Don Pedro becomes merely a fellow penitent with Claudio, and he simply joins Leonato and his brother, the insignificant Antonio,²³ as one of the triad of uninvolved spectators to the nuptials of the reconciled young lovers.

The character inconsistency of the confederates involved in defaming Hero with the window scene cuts deeply into the plausibility of the action. Margaret in particular remains an enigma. A close friend of Hero as well as a witty and generally sympathetic figure, she apparently participates vigorously and convincingly in the treacherous impersonation of Hero. Despite the improbability of her remaining naïve during such an extended charade, Borachio declares that she had no awareness of the circumstances surrounding her role of mimicking Hero (V. i. 300-03). Presumably present along with the entire entourage of Hero at the wedding, Margaret nevertheless remains silent during Claudio's violent confrontation of Hero. And ultimately, the investigation (conducted entirely off-stage) of Leonato largely exonerates her: “Margaret was in some fault for this, / Although against her will” (V. iv. 4-5).

The male conspirators likewise yield their potential character consistency to the demands of the plot. Borachio offers sufficiently diverse characteristics to defy a coherent psychological interpretation. He clearly knows the likely effects of his scheme: “to misuse the Prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato” (II. ii. 28-29). Yet Borachio not only instantly surrenders to the incompetent watch but also readily confesses his villainy to Don Pedro (V. i. 230-44). Moreover, the relationship itself of Borachio and Margaret stems from plot necessity rather than from any subtle characterization. Whereas the uncle which Claudio has in Messina gives a possible dimension to the youth's interest in Hero, the general membership of Borachio in the entourage of Don John of Arragon gives this schemer no such depth. In addition, Don John puts a seal on the ineptitude of villainy in this play. Even if Borachio had not confessed, the bastard's unexplained sudden flight would at the very least cause suspicion of his role in the defamation of Hero. Reflecting the fundamental lack of passionate intensity throughout this play, even Don John will face no real sanctions. Shakespeare's putting his ultimate disposition in the hands of the humorous Benedick instead of the more aggrieved Claudio suggests a light penance for this scapegoat. “As the pipers strike up and the dance begins, we realize that it is appropriate that Benedick, rather than the Prince or Leonato or Claudio, advise us that we ‘think not on him till tomorrow’.”²⁴

The deliberate shallowness of Shakespeare's depiction of Hero and Claudio facilitates their bland adaptability to the demands of the plot. The playwright matches the youth of Claudio (I. i. 12-15) to that of Hero (I. iii. 56); the Count's awkwardness and essential passivity as a lover and Hero's complete apathy concerning the choice of a spouse reduce the appearance of individual autonomy. Claudio in particular appears “in a series of cameos. … We are to penetrate successive frames of mind as significant points in a passionate history and make the necessary imaginative leaps for ourselves to link them together.”²⁵ Only in the renunciation scene at the church does this type of the courtly lover assume “an inner life.”²⁶ The totality with which he gives himself away to Hero (II. i. 308-09) deprives Claudio of any subsequent response to love and beauty in the future when he thinks she is unfaithful (IV. i. 105-08).

However repulsive his public shaming of Hero appears, Claudio's error proceeds from ignorance and mistaking (V. i. 275), and he preserves some measure of our sympathy in the intense grief which accompanies his denunciation of Hero (IV. i. 100-108). Claudio's penance may seem light, but comedy does not require the more severe logic of tragedy, particularly not when the comedy is concerned to show the failure of suspicion and success of trust.”²⁷ At Hero's vindication, Claudio again gives up his autonomy in accepting blindly any revenge proposed by Leonato.

Unreconstructed aggressiveness has been exorcised in the church scene and the ritual expiation makes possible a second chance.”²⁸ Hero's symbolic death, sanctioned by the holy friar, gives both of them a new identity: “when I liv'd, I was your other wife, / And then you lov'd, you were my other husband” (V. iv. 60-61). As Leonato says, she died only while her slander lived. Repentance having created a new character for Claudio, a spirit of forgiveness can now free him and other characters from the consequences of their action. The revenge of Leonato towards Claudio dies with his marriage to the supposed cousin of Hero (V. i. 292).

In addition, the successful resolution of the long-term conflict in the subplot mitigates the intensity of the brief acrimony of the lovers in the main action. The verbal pyrotechnics set off between Beatrice and Benedick provide a brilliant descant to the main action. “Shakespeare's definitive treatment of the amorous agon occurs in Much Ado About Nothing; there is probably no other amorous agon in world literature that can match it in profundity, tenderness, wit, and sheer joyfulness.”²⁹ The reconciliation of these lovers has already begun by the time of the conflict between Claudio and Hero. Given the pretext of the staged overhearings, Benedick and Beatrice swiftly testify to the strength of their underlying bonding by the speed of their recognition of their true feelings. Granted the autonomy of conscious recognition of their hidden feelings, they voluntarily decide to change their behavior. Benedick will be “horribly in love with her” (II. iii. 235) while Beatrice will tame her “wild heart” to his “loving hand” (III. i. 112).

Shakespeare stresses the durability of this transformation. Their new-found resolutions withstand the test of some friendly social ridicule as Claudio and Don Pedro mock Benedick for shaving and perfuming himself (III. ii. 44-51) while Hero and Margaret tease Beatrice for having “turn'd Turk” (III. iv. 57). And, indeed, separated by the assertiveness of Beatrice from his male friends, “Benedick never returns to the old male camaraderie.”³⁰ Moreover, Shakespeare provides his typical reassurance to the audience concerning the stability of this newly re-established relationship by extending the time between initial declaration and final resolution, for Benedick must prove himself to Beatrice by confronting Claudio. Shakespeare completes his approval of their alliance by allowing them a return at the end to healthy teasing (V. iv. 91-97), a distancing that the playwright consistently deems necessary to a successful marital relationship.

In short, the critic may retain an indignation at the actions of Claudio and Don Pedro, of course, but such a reader carries a grudge longer than the concerned figures in the play do.³¹ Holding that Don Pedro and Claudio have “the very bent of honor” (IV. i. 186), these characters blame only Don John. Despite psychological probability, few signs of anger remain at the end of the play. Hero eagerly accepts her role of the wife of Claudio, and Claudio shows no resentment towards Benedick or Leonato for their challenges to him. Even though “the ambivalence in the insistence on women's chastity right along with the appreciation of her sexual responsiveness remains at the end of the play,”³² the marriages will alleviate at least momentarily the real melancholy and the isolation which appeared at the beginning of the play. The suffering of both sets of the lovers during the course of the play prevents the overly facile romantic relationships that Shakespeare deems dangerous to married love, and the inherent comic discontinuity of episodes and characters allows the dramatic figures a fresh, uncomplicated start.

Notes

1. Jean E. Howard, “Renaissance Antitheatricality and the Politics of Gender and Rank in Much Ado About Nothing,” Shakespeare Reproduced: The Text in History and Ideology, ed. Jean E. Howard (New York: Methuen, 1987), p. 176.

2. Reflecting Shakespeare's pervasive admiration of twins, Portia in The Merchant of Venice reasons that friends who spend a great deal of time together begin to resemble each other: “There must be needs a like proportion / Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit” (III. iv. 14-15).

3. Love and Society in Shakespearean Comedy: A Study of Dramatic Form and Content (Newark: Univ. of Delaware Press, 1985).

4. III. i. 9-11. All quotations are from The Riverside Shakespeare, ed. G. Blakemore Evans (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1974).

5. Beatrice recognizes how inappropriate such a proposal is. She would not marry him “unless I might have another for working-days. Your Grace is too costly to wear every day” (II. i. 327-29).

6. Joseph Westlund, Shakespeare's Reparative Comedies: A Psychoanalytic View of the Middle Plays (Chicago: Univ. of Chicago Press, 1984), p. 39. See also Jonas A. Barish, “Pattern and Purpose in the Prose of Much Ado About Nothing,” Rice University Studies, 60 (1974), p. 24 and Carol Cook, “‘The Sign and Semblance of Her Honor’: Reading Gender Difference in Much Ado About Nothing,” PMLA, 101 (1986), p. 193.

7. Joyce H. Sexton, “The Theme of Slander in Much Ado About Nothing and Garter's Susanna,” Philological Quarterly, 54 (1975), p. 420.

8. See Harry Berger, Jr, “Against the Sink-a-Pace: Sexual and Family Politics in Much Ado About Nothing,” Shakespeare Quarterly, 33 (1982), p. 304.

9. Barbara Everett, “Much Ado About Nothing,” Critical Quarterly, 3 (1961), p. 320.

10. Antony B. Dawson, “Much Ado About Signifying,” Studies in English Literature, 22 (1982), p. 213.

11. Dorothy C. Hockey, “Notes Notes, Forsooth …,” Shakespeare Quarterly, 8 (1957), p. 354.

12. Delora G. Cunningham, “Wonder and Love in the Romantic Comedies,” Shakespeare Quarterly, 35 (1984), p. 263.

13. Mary C. Williams, “Much Ado about Chastity in Much Ado About Nothing,” Renaissance Papers (1984), p. 43.

14. Carol T. Neely, Broken Nuptials in Shakespeare's Plays (New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1985), pp. 40-41.

15. John Traugott, “Creating a Rational Rinaldo: A Study in the Mixture of the Genres of Comedy and Romance in Much Ado About Nothing,” Genre, 15 (1982), p. 60.

16. Paul and Miriam Mueschke, “Illusion and Metamorphosis in Much Ado About Nothing,” Shakespeare Quarterly, 18 (1967), p. 61.

17. Mark Taylor, “Presence and Absence in Much Ado About Nothing,” The Centennial Review, 33 (1989), p. 6.

18. John K. Hale, “‘We'll Strive to Please You Every Day’: Pleasure and Meaning in Shakespeare's Mature Comedies,” Studies in English Literature, 21 (1981), p. 244.

19. Much Ado About Nothing, ed. F. H. Mares (Cambridge: Cambridge Univ. Press, 1988), p. 148.

20. Stanley Wells, “Editorial Treatment of Foul-paper Texts: Much Ado About Nothing as a Test Case,” RES [Review of English Studies], 31 (1980), pp. 3-4.

21. Harold Jenkins, “The Ball Scene in Much Ado About Nothing” in Shakespeare: Text, Language, Criticism: Essays in Honor of Marvin Spevack, ed. Bernhard Fabian (Hildescheim: Georg Olms: 1987), p. 100.

22. “Love and Responsibility in The Merchant of Venice,” Greyfriar: Siena Studies in Literature, 29 (1988), p. 15.

23. Leah Scragg, “The Shakespearean ‘Antonio’,” ELN [English Language Notes], 23 (1985), pp. 14-15.

24. Philip Traci, “‘Come, 'tis no matter. / Do not you meddle’: Too Much Ado in Shakespeare's Comedy,” The Upstart Crow, 4 (1982), p. 111.

25. David Cook, “‘The Very Temple of Delight’: The Twin Plots of Much Ado About Nothing” in Poetry and Drama, 1570-1700: Essays in Honour of Harold F. Brooks, ed. Antony Coleman (London: Methuen, 1981), p. 34.

26. Karen Newman, Shakespeare's Rhetoric of Comic Character: Dramatic Convention in Classical and Renaissance Comedy (London: Methuen, 1985), p. 110.

27. Richard Henze, “Deception in Much Ado About Nothing,” Studies in English Literature, 11 (1971), pp. 200-01.

28. Ruth Nevo, Comic Transformations in Shakespeare (London: Methuen, 1980), p. 166.

29. Frank J. Warnke, “Amorous Agon, Erotic Flyting: Some Play Motifs in the Literature of Love” in Auctor Ludens: Essays on Play in Literature, ed. Gerald Guinness (Philadelphia: John Benjamins, 1986), p. 106.

30. Marilyn L. Williamson, The Patriarchy of Shakespeare's Comedies (Detroit: Wayne State Univ. Press, 1986), p. 48.

31. Francis G. Schoff, “Claudio, Bertram, and a Note on Interpretation,” Shakespeare Quarterly, 10 (1959), p. 15.

32. Williams, p. 44.