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Summary
Armado asks Mote to free Costard from his confinement. Mote returns with Costard, who has broken his shin, and the three have a comically digressive discussion.
Armado tells Costard that he is going to set him free on the condition that he will deliver a letter to Jaquenetta. Costard agrees, Armado gives him money, and he and Mote depart.
Berowne then enters and asks Costard to deliver a letter to Rosaline for him. Costard agrees, receives more money, and exits. After Costard leaves, Berowne delivers a long monologue in which he waxes poetic about his love for Rosaline.
Analysis
Much of the comedy in act 2 arose from the way the ladies flustered the lords by strategically misinterpreting their words. Act 3 takes this technique even further, showcasing just how slippery language can be when it’s reduced to little more than jovial wordplay. First, there’s an entire page’s worth of riffing on horse-related metaphors, which stems from an apparent reference to a line from a contemporary popular song: “The hobby-horse is forgot” (3.1.30). Next, there’s the exchange between Mote and Armado about the potential meanings of the phrase “swift as lead” (3.1.58). Then, in the most extreme display of silliness, there arises a lengthy and confounding exchange when Mote returns to Armado with Costard, who has injured his shin. In his typically inflated way, Armado asks to know what happened, saying: “Come, thy l’envoi begin” (3.1.76). Thus begins a 40-line sequence dense with comically confusing multilingual puns. In fact, the digression is so derailing that Armado eventually has to ask, “How did this argument begin?” (3.1.111–12). As if this wasn’t enough, Shakespeare concludes with a comic sequence where Costard misunderstands the words remuneration and guerdon as the names of coins.
The delight this scene clearly takes in what Armado calls the “sweet smoke of rhetoric” (3.1.65) may be interpreted as a sign of the romantic chaos that will shortly ensue. Both Armado and Berowne now find themselves hopelessly in love, and each man has employed his love of words in an effort to express his romantic affections. However, the fact that they each entrust the fool Costard to deliver their letters can only spell disaster. Not only does Costard get confused about the names of coins, but he also seems to have little sense for what these men are asking him. In a humorous exchange with Berowne, for instance, Costard agrees to do the lord a favor, but then nearly walks away before he finds out what it is (3.1.162–66):
COSTARD When would you have it done, sir?
BEROWNE This afternoon.
COSTARD Well, I will do it. Fare you well.
BEROWNE Thou knowest not what it is.
COSTARD I shall know, sir, when I have done it.
The various confusions of sense, meaning, and intention in this scene all bode ill for the fate of these love letters.
It’s worth noting how strange and unusual it is for acts 2 and 3 to be as short as they are. Each consists only of one scene, neither of which exceeds 300 lines. Added to the brevity of these scenes is the fact that not much happens in either. The entirety of act 2 is taken up with the arrival of the French ladies at the gates of the King’s court. Act 3 seems even less substantial, considering how much of it is devoted to digressive word games. And yet, despite the lack of conventional plotting, the story still seems to be moving along at a quick clip. Indeed, we already have five distinct couples who are smitten with each other—so much romance there’s barely enough space for all of it. Back in act 2, the lords and ladies each had just a few lines to express their desire, with the King and the Princess standing in as the model and chief example. Now, in act 3, it would seem to suffice that we only hear from Armado and Berowne about their growing infatuations. Shakespeare leaves it to the audience to fill in the blanks and infer that similar feelings are stirring in everyone’s hearts.
