Act Four, Scene One is basically the scene in Much Ado About Nothing. First we have the horrifying behavior of
Claudio in ruining the wedding by accusing Hero of being unfaithful, and then
Leonato’s rage, and then the smoldering anger of Beatrice and Benedick’s
swooping in to challenge Claudio to a duel, while he and Beatrice finally admit
that they love each other. There are so many intense emotions felt throughout
by the characters as the audience is taken on a roller coaster ride of despair
and lividity while knowing this will somehow lead into the pleasant ending of a
comedy, which typically is a wedding.
But
first, to recap what has happened which led up to this scene: Claudio and Hero
fell in love; Benedick and Beatrice once were in a relationship before he left
her, Don Pedro is trying to get them back together, and finally, Don John is
enacting what revenge he can for losing a civil war to Don Pedro by trying to
cause as much mayhem as possible, which included enlisting the help of several
cunning assistants in making it look as if Hero were unfaithful in having sex
with another guy on the eve of her wedding. Dogberry would have been able to
foil this plot if was not handicapped by his own ineptitude and Leonato’s
impatience.
This
wedding scene is handled well in Joss Whedon’s theatrical adaptation;
particularly in Clark Gregg’s Leonato’s confusion on lines 6-7 of the play
script, and Alexis Denisof’s Benedick’s attempt to get things back on track
with lines 20-21. Claudio believes he’s doing the right thing, which does not
make his actions and words any less horrendous in this scene, but it does sort
of allow the audience to understand where he is coming from in calling Hero “a
rotten orange” (31) and “an approved wanton” (43). As an example of body
language, which cannot come through the bare skeleton of the script’s dialogue,
in the film Don John(played by Sean Maher) casually snatches up a cupcake as he
strolls away from the wedding, his task completed. This adds the perfect amount
of “What a jerk!” felt by the audience.
Is there a more painful utterance in Shakespeare than
Claudio’s speech from 99-103? “O Hero! What a Hero hadst thou been if half thy
outward graces had been placed about thy thoughts and counsels of thy heart?
But fare thee well; most foul, most fair! Farewell, thou pure impiety and
impious purity!” Mignon Fogarty explains in a “Grammar Girl” blog post titled
“Why Did People Stop Saying ‘Thou’?” that it was generally addressed to a
social inferior; which adds to this passage’s heartbreak. Hero faints and is
presumed dead, and the Friar proposes a long-winded, well-intentioned, but
dubious solution which is generally agreed upon.
Some time later, (line 255 in the same scene in the script,
a separate scene in the film,) Benedick comes upon Beatrice weeping bitterly.
They agree that Hero was wronged (259-260), and the enormity of this calamity
forces them to admit freely what the audience has been wanting to hear for so
long: “I do love nothing in the world so well as you.” “You have stayed me in a
happy hour. I was about to protest that I loved you.” (267, 282-283) This
touching scene is then flipped immediately on its head with Beatrice’s request
that Benedick kill Claudio (288). Beatrice’s fury at Benedick’s reluctance to
comply is portrayed brilliantly by Amy Acker; the tongue is the only war tool
available to the woman of Elizabethan times, and Beatrice is a master fencer
with it, lashing him with barbs such as “You dare easier be friends with me
than fight with mine enemy,” (297-98) and more deeply wounding, “Or that I had
any friend who would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into curtsies,
valor into compliment,” (315-17) Benedick does not wish at all to do battle
with his friend, of course; yet the honor of the family of his wife-to-be is at
stake here, so the carefree acquaintances of military days must pass into the
mists of time. After one more question to sum up the situation, he charges
forward into action: “I will challenge him.” (329) Just before and just after
that, he says some odd things worth pondering: “Think you in your soul the
Count Claudio hath wronged Hero?” (326-27) and “As you hear of me, so think of
me.” (331-32)
It could still be the love endorphins talking, but a highly
agitated woman would be liable to say anything
was the opinion of her soul at the moment. This seems like a very
quicksand-like foundation to go confront one’s best friend about in a matter of
life and death, even if the woman asked is his new girlfriend. Also, almost
everything in this play revolves around eavesdropping, overhearing
conversations and misinterpreting that information. Benedick is casting his
reputation to the wind and hoping that all will turn out aright; does he know
that Don John has left by this point, so the chance of further mischief is
slight? Or is he saying that with complete faith in her loyalty? Possibly this
“growing up” of putting her and her family ahead of his army pals is what will
allow Beatrice to keep her faith in his actions and abilities. It would depend
greatly on how that scene was played, how we as audiences are supposed to
interpret that. Finally, could Shakespeare have intended this to be a “breaking
the fourth wall” moment, where both Beatrice and Benedick know that they are in
a play, and that things will turn out happily by the curtain? In that case, it
wouldn’t matter what other people said about him, because the outcome of the
conflict would be assured. This is not a likely explanation, but it is
interesting to think about, even though it is likely wild speculation.
At this scene’s conclusion, roughly half the characters
believe Hero is dead, Claudio could potentially be killed(but he lives, the conflict
ends peaceably), and turns out that Fogberry had the answer to Don John’s
participation the whole time. Both sets of couples are wedded, the audience
breaths a sigh of relief, either shaking their heads in puzzlement of the
play’s ending, which focusing on the imminent capture of Don John, or chuckling
at the lighthearted ending of Whedon’s film, where Benedick urges Don Pedro to
find a wife. In my opinion, the movie ends on a note more in keeping with the
lighthearted elements of this play.
Works
Cited
Fogarty, Mignon.
“Why Did People Stop Saying ‘Thou’?” Grammar
Girl, Quick and Dirty Tips. 12 December 2014. Web. 23 November 2015.
Much Ado About Nothing. Dir. Joss
Whedon. Perf. Amy Acker, Alexis Denisof, Reed Diamond, Clark Gregg, Fran Kranz,
Sean Maher, Jillian Morgese. Lionsgate and Roadside Attractions. 2012. Netflix. Web. 15 September 2015.
Shakespeare,
William. Much Ado About Nothing. 1599?
William Shakespeare: The Complete Works. Ed.
Stephen Orgel and A.R. Braunmuller. P.p. 371-400. New York: Penguin Books,
2002. Print.
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