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ntroductory Remarks,

THE sparkling comedy of "MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING" is like one of those feminine fascinators, who, in real life-despite of some irregularity of feature and some trifling incongruities of conduct-charm all beholders, and convert the sternest would-be critics into delighted admirers. The comic and serious portions of the dialogue relieve each other admirably. There is rather too much salt, perhaps, and that not invariably attic, in the verbal encounters of Benedick and Beatrice; but the combatants are, at any rate, always alive, and never fail, either in reading or on the stage, to infuse a portion of their superabundant vitality into the most lethargic spectator or reader. The better natures, too, of this cantankerous pair, "too wise to woo peaceably," are finely drawn forth by the wrongs of the amiable Hero. The tender friendship, and instinctive glowing scorn of meanness, falsehood, and cruelty, evinced by Beatrice on this trying occasion, however vehemently expressed, are to us proof potential that she is no less capable of ardent, genuine love: of "taming her wild heart to the loving hand" of any gallant possessing sufficient sense and sympathy to feel and appreciate its innner and less obvious qualities. The meridian sunbeams do not the less warm and invigorate the earth, because they flicker in our eyes, and will not indulge them in a long and placid gaze. Marriage, to such natures as those of Benedick and Beatrice, comes like evening, with its illumined clouds, its softened lights, and balmier odors. We cannot allow ourselves to doubt for a moment, even with Mr. Campbell, that these brilliant lovers, when they thoroughly understood each other, led very harmonious and contented lives. Of the depth of Benedick's sentiment, "the wise may make some scruple of a doubt," although the tendency of evidence is, upon the whole, decidedly in his favor; but Beatrice, our life upon it, subsided into a charming, reasonable wife, and a most affectionate, devoted mother.

Of the serious characters, the Friar is the only one to whom we can thoroughly accord our personal liking. Goodness and wisdom seem to stand on either side of him, as visible supporters. His speeches, in what may be termed the accusation scene, are perhaps the finest things in the play. Don Pedro, however, and his bastard Brother, Leonato, Antonio, and Claudio, are all exhibited with Shakspeare's usual nicety of discrimination, and enlivened with numerous masterly touches of poetic truth.

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Merely to name that marvelous "pretty piece of flesh," Dogberry, is to give signal for "the lungs to crow like chanticleer." Blessings on his good-nature and his bad grammar! We respect the one, while laughing at the other. Truly, he would not hang a dog with his good will; much more a man who hath any honesty in him." When the heart speaks, there is no fear of a blunder. In this feeling, honest Dogberry, thou wert the "right master constable," after all. Affectionately we commit thee to thy pleasant destiny. Happy, and making happy, long mayst thou bestride thine innocent hobby, charging watchmen and detecting plots, till thou and the world grow tired of each other. Methinks we see thee at this moment, cantering off, Goodman Verges seated humbly behind thee ("if two men ride of a horse, one must ride behind"), yet turning round benignantly to vent the pregnant admonition to thine admiring satellites, "An there be any matter of WEIGHT chances, call up ME!" And so they will, of course. Depend upon it, your worship will not easily be forgotten by those who have once had the advantage of hearing thine erudite exposition of "the statutes," and sitting with the docility of little children at the foot of the learned tribunal over which (in the richest of thy two justly-vaunted gowns) thou presidest with a dignity so amusing and so self-complacent.

"MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING" was originally published in quarto, and entered at Stationers' Hall, August 23, 1600. The serious incidents of the plot, in their main features, appear to have been derived from one of the "CENT HISTOIRES TRAGIQUES" of Belleforest, who in his turn copied from the Italian novelist, Bandello.

J. O.

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Much Ado About Nothing.

SCENE I. Before LEONATO's House.

ACT I.

Enter LEONATO, HERO, BEATRICE, and others,

with a Messenger.

much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping!

Beat. I pray you, is Signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no?

Mess. I know none of that name, lady; there

Leon. I learn in this letter, that Don Pedro of was none such in the army of any sort. Arragon comes this night to Messina.

Mess. He is very near by this; he was not three leagues off when I left him.

Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?

Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. Leon. A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honor on a young Florentine, called Claudio.

Mess. Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, indeed, better bettered expectation, than you must expect of me to tell you how.

Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece?
Hero. My cousin means Signior Benedick, of
Padua.

Mess. O, he is returned; and as pleasant as ever

he was.

Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina, and challenged Cupid at the flight: and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt.—I pray you, how hath he killed and eaten in these wars? many But how many hath he killed? for indeed, I promised to eat all of his killing.

Leon. Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much; but he 'll be meet with you, I doubt it not.

Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these

Leon. He hath an uncle here in Messina will wars. be very much glad of it.

Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not shew itself modest enough without a badge of bitterness.

Leon. Did he break out into tears?
Mess. In great measure.

Leon. A kind overflow of kindness.

There are

no faces truer than those that are so washed. How

Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencher-man, he hath an excellent stomach.

Mess. And a good soldier too, lady.

Beat. And a good soldier to a lady; but what is he to a lord?

Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man: stuffed with all honorable virtues.

Beat. It is so, indeed; he is no less than a

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