Much Ado About Nothing: A Verse Translation
My verse translation of Much Ado About Nothing matches Shakespeare's play line-by-line with the same syntactic complexity and vocabulary range as the original. All blank verse lines remain in verse with accurate and authentic iambic pentameter.
Play Statistics
Unique words in original: 2,907
Unique words in translation: 3,269
Excerpt
from Act Three
Although Shakespeare's play is about 70% prose, this scene is in verse. Beatrice, who speaks prose in most of the play, uses rhyming verse as the scene closes. Like Shakespeare's original, I maintain her ABAB rhyme pattern and close with a couplet.
Scene One. Leonato’s Garden
[Enter HERO, MARGARET, and URSULA]
HERO
Good Margaret, run into the parlor.
There you will find my cousin Beatrice
Conversing with the Prince and Claudio.
Whisper and say to her that I and Ursula
Are in the orchard, and the whole exchange
Is talk of her. Say that you overheard us
And have her hide inside the densest bower,
Where honeysuckles, ripened by the sun,
Forbid the sun to enter—like favored ones
Raised high by princes, who in turn rise up
Against the power that bred them. Hide her there
To overhear our talk. That’s all we ask for.
Do your part well, and leave the rest to us.
MARGARET
I’ll make her come at once, I guarantee you.
[Exit MARGARET]
HERO
Now, Ursula, when Beatrice arrives,
As we tread back and forth along this path,
Our talk must only be of Benedick.
And when I mention him, let your role be
To praise him more than any man could merit.
My words to you will say how Benedick
Is sick with love for Beatrice. From such substance
Is little Cupid’s crafty arrow made
And wounds by hearsay only.
[Enter BEATRICE on the opposite side of a bower]
Now get set.
She’s coming like some pheasant in the brush,
Close to the ground, to listen in on us.
URSULA
[aside to Hero] The angler’s greatest thrill is when the fish
Cuts through the silver stream with golden oars
And greedily devours the treacherous bait.
So we will fish for Beatrice, who is now
Concealed behind this honeysuckle screen.
And do not worry—I know what to say.
HERO
[aside to Ursula] Then let’s move near her, so her ear gets all
The sweet, deceptive bait we lay for it.—
[HERO and URSULA move toward the bower]
[aloud] No, truly, Ursula, she is too disdainful.
I know her spirit’s scornful and as wild
As hawks snatched from a cliff.
URSULA
But are you sure
That Benedick loves Beatrice so completely?
HERO
The Prince says so, and my fiancé too.
URSULA
Did they ask you to tell her of it, madam?
HERO
They strongly asked that I inform her of it,
But I persuaded them, if they loved Benedick,
To tell him he must wrestle with these feelings
And never make them known to Beatrice.
URSULA
But why do this? I’m sure the gentleman
Is quite deserving of as fine a bed
As Beatrice will ever lie upon.
HERO
O God of love! I know that he deserves
As much as can be yielded to a man,
But Nature never built a woman’s heart
Of prouder stuff than used on Beatrice.
Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes,
And sell short all they see; her repartee
Regards itself so highly that to her
All other talk lacks worth. She cannot love
Or call up any thought or image of it—
She’s that self-centered.
URSULA
Surely that is so.
And thus, no doubt, not good for her to learn
About his love, for she’ll make fun of it.
HERO
You speak the truth. If I show her a man
Who’s wise, who’s noble, young and nicely formed,
She’d spell all these words backwards: if fair-skinned,
She’d swear the gentleman must be her sister;
If tan, then, Nature, drawing some freak creature,
Has smudged the ink; if tall, a lance too dull;
If short, a miniature too crudely carved;
If speaking, he’s a spinning weather vane;
If silent, he’s a block no wind can move.
Thus, for each man, she turns the wrong side out,
And always doubts as true and virtuous
What plain and simple honesty should buy.
URSULA
Yes, yes, such carping is not admirable.
HERO
It’s not. To be so odd, so far from normal,
As Beatrice is, cannot be admirable.
But who would dare to tell her? If I spoke,
She’d mock me into dust. She’d wear me down
With ridicule and crush me with her wit.
Let Benedick, like fire deprived of air,
Consume himself with sighs, waste from within—
A better death than dying from her scorn,
Which is as bad as tickling him to death.
URSULA
Still tell her of it. Hear what she will say.
HERO
No. I will go to Benedick instead,
And tell him he should fight against his passion.
And, trust me, I’ll devise some harmless slander
To stain my cousin with. One can’t conceive
How much an ill word does to poison fondness.
URSULA
O, do not do your cousin such a wrong.
She cannot be so lacking in true judgment,
Considering the quick and excellent wit
For which she is so praised, as to refuse
So rare a gentleman as Signior Benedick.
HERO
He is the finest man in Italy,
With one exception, my dear Claudio.
URSULA
O please, do not be angry with me, madam,
For favoring him: Signior Benedick,
In build, in manner, intellect, and valor,
Is rated highly throughout Italy.
HERO
Indeed, his reputation’s excellent.
URSULA
Earned by his excellence, not simply had.
When is your marriage, madam?
HERO
After tomorrow, every day. Come in.
Look through my wardrobe and advise me on
What dress will look the best on me tomorrow.
URSULA
[aside to Hero] Believe me, she is snared. We’ve caught her, madam.
HERO
If true, love drops by chance on any lap.
Some Cupid kills with arrows, some he’ll trap.
[Exit HERO and URSULA]
[BEATRICE comes out of hiding]
BEATRICE
What fire burns in my ears? Can this be true?
Am I condemned this much for pride and scorn?
Contempt, farewell and girlish pride, adieu!
Behind a back like mine no glory’s born.
And, Benedick, love on; this heart I’ll tame
To trust your loving hand—that’s your reward.
If you love me, my kindness will inflame
Your love to bind us with a holy cord.
For others say much of your worth, and I
Can place more trust in what these words imply.
[Exit]
© 2008 by Kent Richmond