By my troth it is no addition to her
wit—nor no great argument of her folly, for I will be horribly in
love with her.
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Summary: Act II, scene ii
The bitter and wicked Don John has learned of the upcoming
marriage of Claudio and Hero, and he wishes that he could find a
way to prevent it. Don John’s servant Borachio devises a plan. Borachio
is currently the lover of one of Hero’s serving women, Margaret.
He suggests that Don John go to Claudio and Don Pedro and tell them that
Hero is not a virgin but a whore, a woman who has willingly corrupted
her own innocence before her marriage and at the same time chosen
to be unfaithful to the man she loves. In order to prove this accusation,
Don John will bring Don Pedro and Claudio below the window of Hero’s
room on the night before the wedding, where they should hide and
watch. On the balcony outside Hero’s room, Borachio will make love
to Margaret—whom he will have convinced to dress up in Hero’s clothing.
The watchers will then see a woman who resembles Hero making love
with Borachio, and will thus believe Don John’s claim that Hero
has been false to Claudio. Very pleased with the plan, Don John
promises Borachio a large reward if he can pull it off and prevent
the planned wedding.
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Act II, scene ii →
Summary: Act II, scene iii
Meanwhile, ignorant of the evil that Don John stealthily
plots, Benedick’s friends enact their own benign trick to get Benedick
and Beatrice to fall in love. They know that Benedick is currently
wandering around in the garden, wondering aloud to himself how, although
he knows that love makes men into idiots, any intelligent man can
fall in love. He ponders how Claudio can have turned from a plain-speaking,
practical soldier into a moony-eyed lover. Benedick thinks it unlikely
that he himself will ever become a lover.
Suddenly, Benedick hears Don Pedro, Claudio, and Leonato approaching,
and he decides to hide among the trees in the arbor and eavesdrop.
Don Pedro and Claudio, noticing him there, confer quietly with each
other and decide it’s time to put their scheme into effect. They
begin to talk loudly, pretending that they have just learned that
Beatrice has fallen in love with Benedick. Benedick, hidden in the
arbor, asks himself in shock whether this can possibly be true. But
Don Pedro, Leonato, and Claudio embellish the story, talking about
how passionately Beatrice adores Benedick, and how they are afraid
that her passion will drive her insane or spur her to suicide. She dares
not tell Benedick, they say, for fear that he would make fun of
her for it—since everyone knows what his mocking personality would
do. They all agree that Benedick would be a fool to turn her away,
for he currently seems unworthy of so fine a woman as Beatrice.
The others go in to have dinner, and the amazed
Benedick, emerging from the arbor, plunges himself into profound
thought. Don Pedro’s plan has worked: Benedick decides that he will
“take pity” upon the beautiful, witty, and virtuous Beatrice by
loving her in return. He has changed his mind, and far from wanting
to remain an eternal bachelor, he now desires to win and marry Beatrice.
Beatrice appears, having been sent out to fetch Benedick in to dinner.
She deals as scornfully as usual with him, but he treats her with
unusual flattery and courtesy. Confused and suspicious, Beatrice
mocks him again before departing, but the infatuated Benedick interprets
her words as containing hidden messages of love, and he happily
runs off to have a portrait made of her so that he can carry it
around with him.
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Act II, scene iii →
Analysis: Act II, scenes ii–iii
Don John’s malice resurfaces in Act II, scene ii, as we
see him plotting to split Hero and Claudio. Once again, we must
wonder about his motives, as his desire to hurt others so badly
is inconsistent with his claim to be a low-grade villain. Borachio’s
statement that his plan, if it succeeds, is sure “to misuse the
Prince, to vex Claudio, to undo Hero, and kill Leonato” makes it
clear that Don John’s schemes have some darker purpose in mind (II.ii.24–25).
In the Renaissance, the virginity of an upper-class woman
at the time of her marriage carried a great deal of importance for
not only her own reputation but also for that of her family and
her prospective husband. Adultery, unchaste behavior, or premarital
sex in a noblewoman could be a fighting matter—one that could spur
a parent to disown or even kill a daughter, a betrayed husband to
murder his wife or rival, or a defender to challenge a woman’s accuser
to a duel to the death in order to clear her name. If the entire
community were to believe Hero unchaste, then her honor, name, and
reputation would suffer permanently; Claudio would suffer considerably more
than simple vexation; and the stress might well “kill” Leonato.
This plot is far more than a merely troublesome game.
