class="verse">I shall consult with my solicitor,

[Exit with dignity.

Curtain.

Much Ado about Nothing.

The end of “Much Ado about Nothing” must always leave the sympathetic playgoer in tears. The future looks black for everybody concerned. Claudio’s jealous disposition will make him a most uncomfortable husband for the resuscitated Hero, while Benedick and Beatrice are likely to find that a common taste in badinage is not the most satisfactory basis for matrimony. When it is added that Don John’s genius for plotting is sure in the end to get him into trouble one feels that nothing can be gloomier than the prospects of the entire cast.

MORE ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

Scene.—The garden of Benedick’s house at Padua. Benedick is sitting on a garden seat, sunning himself indolently. Beatrice is beside him, keeping up her reputation for conversational brilliancy by a series of sprightly witticisms.

Beatrice.

Very likely I do talk twice as much as I should. But then, if I talk too much you certainly listen far too little, so we are quits. Do you hear?

Benedick.

[Opening his eyes slowly.] Eh?

Beatrice.

I believe you were asleep! But there—’tis a great compliment to my wit. Like Orpheus, I can put even the savage beasts to sleep with it. [Benedick’s eyes close again, and he appears to sink into a profound doze.] But if the beasts go to sleep there’s no use in being witty. I suppose Orpheus never thought of that. Come, wake up, good Signior Beast. [Prods him coquettishly with her finger.] Have you forgotten that the Duke is coming?

Benedick.

[Drowsily.] When will he be here?

Beatrice.

Ere you have done gaping.

Benedick.

[Terribly bored by this badinage.] My dear, if only you would occasionally answer a plain question. When do you expect him?

Beatrice.

[Skittish to the last.] Plain questions should only be answered by plain people.

Benedick.

[Yawning heartily.] A pretty question then.

Beatrice.

Pretty questions should only be asked by pretty people. There! What do you think of that for wit!

Benedick.

Really, my dear, I can hardly trust myself to characterise it in—er—fitting terms. [Rings bell. Enter Page.] When is the Duke expected?

Page.

In half-an-hour, Sir.

Benedick.

Thank you.

[Exit Page.

Beatrice.

[Pouting.] You needn’t have rung. I could have told you that.

Benedick.

I am sure you could, my dear. But as you wouldn’t——

Beatrice.

I was going to, if you had given me time.

Benedick.

Experience has taught me, my dear Beatrice, that it is usually much quicker to ring! [Closes his eyes again.]

Beatrice.

How rude you are!

Benedick.

[Half opening them.] Eh?

Beatrice.

I said it was very rude of you to go to sleep when I am talking.

Benedick.

[Closing his eyes afresh.] It’s perfectly absurd of you to talk when I am going to sleep.

Beatrice.

[Girding herself for fresh witticisms.] Why absurd?

Benedick.

Because I don’t hear what you say, of course, my love.

Beatrice.

[Whose repartees have been scattered for the moment by this adroit compliment.] Well, well, sleep your fill, Bear. I’ll go and bandy epigrams with Ursula.

[Exit Beatrice. Benedick looks cautiously round to see if she is really gone, and then heaves a sigh of relief.

Benedick.

Poor Beatrice! If only she were not so incorrigibly sprightly. She positively drives one to subterfuge.

[Produces a book from his pocket, which he reads with every appearance of being entirely awake.

Enter Don Pedro, as from a journey.

Benedick does not see him.

Don Pedro.

Signior Benedick!

Benedick.

[Starting up on hearing his name.] Ah, my dear Lord. Welcome to Padua.

Don Pedro.

[Looks him up and down.] But how’s this? You look but poorly, my good Benedick.

Benedick.

I am passing well, my Lord.

Don Pedro.

And your wife, the fair Beatrice? As witty as ever?

Benedick.

[Grimly.] Quite!

Don Pedro.

[Rubbing his hands.] I felt sure of it! I made the match, remember! I said to old Leonato “She were an excellent match for Benedick” as soon as I saw her.

Benedick.

[Sighing.] So you did, so you did.

Don Pedro.

[Puzzled.] I’m bound to say you don’t seem particularly happy.

Benedick.

[Evasively.] Oh, we get on well enough.

Don Pedro.

Well enough! Why, what’s the matter, man? Come, be frank with me.

Benedick.

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