t an imperfect first sketch, the play must have succeeded
_Henry V_. On these grounds the play is best assigned to 1599. It was
first printed in quarto in 1602, but this version is extremely faulty,
besides being considerably shorter than that of the First Folio. The
quarto seems to have been printed from a stenographic report of an
acting version of the play, made by an unskillful reporter for a
piratical publisher.

+Source+.--The main plot resembles a story derived from an Italian
source which is found in Tarlton's _News out of Purgatorie_. For the
underplot and a number of details in the working out of the main plot,
no source is known.

+Much Ado About Nothing+.--In this play, as nowhere else, Shakespeare
has given us the boon of laughter--not the smile, not the uncontrolled
guffaw, but rippling, melodious laughter. From the beginning to the
end this is the dominant note. If the great trio of which this was the
first be classified as romantic comedies, we may perhaps say that in
speaking of the others we should lay the stress on the word 'romantic,'
in this, on the word 'comedy.' As regards the main plot, _Much Ado_
is, to be sure, the most serious of the three. When the machinations
of the villainous Prince John lead Claudio to believe his intended
bride {166} unfaithful, and to reject this pure-scaled Hero with
violence and contumely at the very steps of the altar, we have a
situation which borders on the tragic. The mingled doubt, rage, and
despair of Hero's father is, moreover, undoubtedly affecting.
Nevertheless, powerful as these scenes are, they are so girt about with
laughter that they cannot destroy our good spirits. Even at their
height, the manifestations of human wickedness, credulity, and weakness
seem but the illusions of a moment, soon to be dissipated by the power
of radiant mirth. It is not without significance that the deep-laid
plot should be defeated through the agency of the immortal Dogberry,
most deliciously foolish of constables. Nor is it mere chance that
Hero and Claudio are so constantly accompanied by Beatrice and
Benedick, that amazing pair to whom life is one long jest. In the
merry war which is constantly raging between these two, their shafts
never fail of their mark, but neither is once wounded. Like magnesium
lights, their minds send forth showers of brilliant sparks which hit,
but do not wound. But their wit is something more than empty sparkle.
It is the efferv