Love, in Much Ado About Nothing, is always involved with tricks, games and disguises. Every step in romance takes place by way of masquerade. Hero is won for Claudio by Don Pedro in disguise. Benedick and Beatrice are brought together through an elaborate prank. Claudio can be reconciled with Hero only after her faked death. Altogether, these things suggest that love—like a play or masquerade—is a game based on appearances, poses and the manipulation of situations.
Love, in Much Ado, is like chemistry. If you put people together in a certain way, a certain result occurs. Lovers in the play are like masked dancers: the pose and the situation matter more than who the other dancer really is. The lover is a piece in the game, a mask in the crowd, and everyone—no matter who they are—falls victim in the same way. Don Pedro manipulates Benedick and Beatrice like a scientist conducting an experiment, or a playwright setting a scene. The play suggests that love is not love without its masquerade-like sequence of poses and appearances, even if they must be imagined or faked.
Love and Masquerade ThemeTracker
Love and Masquerade Quotes in Much Ado About Nothing
“I cannot be said to be a flattering honest man, it must not be denied but I am a plain-dealing villain.”
“He that hath a beard is more than a youth, and he that hath no beard is less than a man; and he that is more than a youth is not for me; and he that is less than a man, I am not for him.”
“Speak low, if you speak love.”
“Friendship is constant in all other things
Save in the office and affairs of love:
therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues;
Let every eye negotiate for itself
And trust no agent; for beauty is a witch
Against whose charms faith melteth into blood.”
“One woman is fair, yet I am well; another is wise, yet I am well; another virtuous, yet I am well; but till all graces be in one woman, one woman shall not come in my grace.”
“…of this matter
Is little Cupid’s crafty arrow made,
That only wounds by hearsay.”
“Even she: Leonato’s Hero, your Hero, every man’s Hero.”
“Seest thou not, I say, what a deformed thief this fashion is? how giddily he turns about all the hot bloods between fourteen and five-and-thirty?”
“But mine , and mine I lov'd , and mine I prais'd,
And mine that I was proud on, mine so much
That I myself was to myself not mine,
Valuing of her; why, she— O! she is fallen Into a pit of ink…”
“I was not born under a rhyming planet.”