Much Ado About Nothing - Episode 3 - Between The Sheets

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Well, folks, we're back with more Play On Podcasts, epic audio adventures reimagining timeless tales. And I, of course, am executive producer Michael Goodfriend. We're deep in the midst of our production of Much Ado About Nothing. And things are truly getting juicy. The witty barbs, the scheming, interpersonal machinations, and the desperate search for love make for a rich tapestry of character dynamics and commentary on Elizabethan society. And underneath it all...

is the theme that everyone seems to want to talk about without directly talking about it. Sex. Apologies to any young ears who might be listening, but sex is a big part of the play, overtly or otherwise. In fact, at the time this play was written, people in England sometimes referred to certain parts of the female...

anatomy as nothing or no thing. So it's almost like the title is making fun of how men make a big deal out of Anyway, one thing that is constantly referred to throughout the play is cuckoldry, or people cheating on their spouses, specifically women cheating on their husbands. There are a lot of jokes about men being cuckolded throughout Much Ado, and as Dr. Gail Kern-Pastor points out in her brilliant essay about it for the Folger Shakespeare Library, there's a reason for that.

She notes that during the 16th century, marriage for love was kind of a new concept. Up to that point, it was mainly a strategic move for strengthening intergroup bonds and sharing resources. And many people saw the single life. as a means of greater freedom and happiness. But Dr. Pastor argues that all the suspicion of cheating is only on display in the story just to prove how strong the power of marital love can be when it wins out in the end.

Hey, love is indeed a powerful thing, but so is what happens between the sheets. Episode 3, Between the Sheets. For the best listening experience, be sure to use headphones or earbuds. And remember, the world must be peopled.

So Claudio is marrying Leonato's daughter. Yes, my lord, but I can stop it. Any obstacle, any trouble, any upset will be balm to my soul. I'm sick with hatred of him, and whatever goes against his inclinations is in step with mine. How can you disrupt this marriage? Not honestly, but so secretly that my... Dishonesty won't be found out. But how? My lord, I believe I told you some time ago how attractive Margaret, hero's maid, is to me. I remember.

Well, suppose I got her to look out at her mistress's bedroom window, late at night, when no respectable young lady would dream of doing so. What life is there in that to be the death of this marriage? There's poison in it. But it's up to you to extract it. Go to your brother. Tell him he's harming his honor by marrying the renowned Claudio to a filthy slut.

Be sure to say what a fine man Claudio is and how much you respect him. And just how am I going to prove to him that Kiro is a filthy slut? You'll prove it well enough to deceive the prince, drive Claudio to despair, and kill Leonardo. Will that satisfy you? I'd do anything to harm them. Go then. Find some opportunity to get Dom Pedro and Count Claudio alone. Tell them you know Hero loves me.

pretend you're eager to be of service to them that you're concerned for your brother's honor since he arranged this marriage and for claudio's reputation now that he's about to be palmed off with a whore masquerading as a chaste young virgin Say that's why you're telling them all this. They'll want proof, obviously. Tell them that you can get it. The proof in question will in fact consist of them singing me.

under Hero's bedroom window, hearing me call Margaret Hero and Margaret call me Barraccio. You must bring them to see this the night before the wedding. I'll arrange for Hero not to be in her room. The evidence of her wickedness will be so convincing that jealousy will be as good as proof and the whole business will be wrecked. Oh, well, I'll do it. I don't care what happens as long as it's bad. End.

There's a thousand ducats in it for you if we succeed. Stick to your story, leave the rest to me. I'll find out when the wedding is to be.

I'm going to bed. Barkeep, please. I need a drink. A bourbon, please. We miss you. It never ceases to amaze me how one man seeing what a clown another man turns into when he falls in love will, after laughing at such folly in someone else, become the object of his own scorn by falling in love himself. Oui, oui, monsieur. It's true. Back again. Oui, yes, of course. Thank Claudio. I can remember when the only music he'd listen to was the drum and the bugle.

And now he'd rather hear someone sing a syrupy song accompanied by a harp. Only a week ago, he'd have walked ten miles to see a new flak jacket. He used to speak plainly and to the purpose like a gentleman and a soldier, and now he's turned into a kind of... Prose poet. His conversation is like a meal at the latest restaurant. One weird dish after another. Will I ever... undergo such a transformation. Ah, who knows?

I don't think so. I can't promise love will never turn me into an oyster or another of the lowest of God's creatures, but I'll never act that way until he has. One woman is beautiful, I'm fine. Another is intelligent, good luck to her. Another selfless, prudent, kind, not a problem. Till all good qualities come together in one woman, no one woman will make me fall for her. She'll be rich. That's for sure. And smart.

She can forget it. Good, or I won't go near her. Sweet-natured, of good family. Interesting to talk to. And her hair. Ah, her hair can be whatever color it likes.

Oh, here comes Leonardo and the Prince and Monsieur Love. I'm trapped. I can't bear it. I'll hide under the table. Welcome, gentlemen. Get this party going. Can't you use a drink, son? I will have an Albarino. Albarino is my drink. A barkeep. This is on me. A Manhattan, please. Straight up. This boy a bourbon straight. Do you see him crouching under the table there? Blame me, my lord.

We'll lead this crouching fox a merry dance. Leonardo, what was it you were telling me the other day? That your niece Beatrice was in love with Benedict? What? Ow. Stuck on. Stuck on. We have the foul in our sights. Who would have thought it? Beatrice, of all people. Right. And then to choose Benedict. whom she's given every outward sign of loathing. I don't believe it. Is this how the land lies? It's incredible. All I know is...

She does love him. In fact, she's practically out of her wits with passion for him. She is so deep in love, it is impossible to conceive the full extent of her adoration. You don't think she might be pretending. Good point. She might be. No. No one could act love so convincingly. Really? What makes you say that? Bait the hook well. This fish is going to bite. What makes me say that? Well, for instance, she'll... Sit. Well, you heard my daughter tell you how. She did?

She did sit. She sits, you say. Oh, yes. Yep. Astonishing. I thought she was, how shall I put it, love proof. I thought so too. And above all, Benedict proof. I think this was a trick, but Leonardo wouldn't go in for practical jokes. Has she told him? No, and she swears she never will. Poor girl, she is in torment. In torment? That's right.

Hero was telling me the same thing only this morning. Oh. How? How? Says Beatrice. How can I write him and tell him I love him when I've treated him with such... contempt that's what she says whenever she's about to write to him she will be up 20 times a night she'll sit there in her night dress writing sheets and sheets my daughter tells us everything

Speaking of sheets, did you hear that joke of heroes? Yes, yes. Beatrice had written him a letter and was reading it over and my daughter Hero says to her... Now Beatrice and Benedict are between the sheets. That was it. Then she tore the letter into a thousand pieces and started scolding herself for being so stupid as to write to someone who was so sure to reject her.

I am judging by my own behavior, she went on, since I would certainly send him packing if he wrote to me, even though I love him. Then she falls on her knees and starts crying and sobbing and praying and cursing and tearing her hair. Benedict! Sweet Benedict! God help me. That's right, she does. My daughter told us she's afraid she may do herself some mischief. She's in such a state.

If she won't tell him, someone should. What would be the point? He'd only make fun of her. She'd be worse off than if she'd kept quiet. If he did, it'd be a good deed to hang him. She's an excellent creature. She's beautiful, good natured, chaste. And intelligent. Except for being in love with Benedict. Intelligence is no match for love.

Love wins that particular contest nine times out of ten. I'm very sorry for her. And why wouldn't I be? I am her uncle and her guardian. If only she felt like that about me. I'd have married her like that. She's not rich, so what? The girl's a peach. She's gold dust. Someone should tell Benedict. Who knows? He may change his tune when he hears how she feels about him. Do you think that would be wise? Hero thinks she may die. She says she'll die if he doesn't love her.

She'll die rather than tell him she loves him. And if he declares himself, she'll die before she gives up fighting with him. Quite right. And anyways, if she tells him how she feels, he'll only spurn her. He likes nothing better than to make someone feel smart. He's a good man. He's a good looking man. Yes, and smart. And smart. He does show the odd spark of something not unlike intelligence. Anyway, I'm sorry for your niece.

What you say, we go find Benedict and tell him. No, she's a sensible woman. She'll get over it. I am afraid her heart may break first. I say we find out more about this from Hiro. Meanwhile, let's live well alone. I'm extremely fond of Benedict. I wish he'd look into his soul and learn some modesty. Then… he might realize how little he deserves. Such a remarkable woman. Monsieur, dinner is ready. Dinner is served. Shall we go? Good night, monsieur.

If he's not crazy about her after this, I'm a monkey's uncle. We must set the same trap for Beatrice. Leonato, your daughter and her maids can take care of that. The best bit will be when each thinks the author's in love with them and they're not at all. I can't wait to see that scene. It'll be the funniest dumb show yet. Let's send Beatrice to fetch him in to dinner.

Is this some kind of joke? But Leonardo wouldn't go in for that. This can't be a trick. Their conversation was totally serious. Their source is hero. They seem to pity Beatrice. She's got it bad. Love me. Well, it must be requited. I heard how they criticized me. What was it? He likes nothing better than to make someone feel small? They think I'll act proud and spurn her if she declares herself, which it seems she'd rather die than do. I never thought...

I'd marry. I mustn't be proud. Blessed are they who, when they hear themselves criticized, address their shortcomings. They say she's exquisite. It's true. Good-natured. Also true. Intelligent. Except for loving me. Well... It's hardly a sign of intelligence, but it won't be a sign of stupidity either, since I am going to be horribly in love with her. There'll be wisecracks, of course, at my expense, because I've spoken out so vociferously against marriage, but... Damn it!

Can't a man change his mind? People sometimes find they adore some dish or other when they're old that they couldn't stand when they were young. Let them mock me. Such paper bullets of the brain can't change my feelings one jot. The world must be... peopled!

When I said I'd die a bachelor, I didn't think I'd live long enough to get married. Here comes Beatrice. My God, geez. I think I can see some signs of love about her. I have been sent against my will. to fetch you into dinner. Sweet Beatrice, thank you for taking the trouble. I took no more trouble for those things than you took trouble to thank me. If it had been any trouble, I wouldn't have done it. Then you take pleasure in this little embassy?

Yes. About as much as you might put on the point of a knife and choke a jackdaw with. Well, if you have no stomach, good day to you. sent against my will to fetch... I've been sent against my will. I've been sent against my will to fetch you into dinner. There's a double meaning in that. I took no more trouble for those things than you took the trouble to... Thank me. In other words, any trouble I take for you is as easy as thanks.

If I don't take pity on her, I'm a scoundrel. If I don't love her, I'm a swine. Oh! Oh, I'm, I'm, I'm gonna get her picture.

Good madam, Antonia has gone to the parlor. There she found your cousin Beatrice chatting with Pedro and Claudio. She whispered in Beatrice's ear and told her, We walk in the orchard and our whole discourse is all about her. She said she overheard us and told Beatrice to hide in this dappled garden. Here she'll skulk and eavesdrop. Okay, when Beatrice comes, we'll saunter up and down talking about one topic. Benedict!

If I should name him, then your part would be to praise him more than any man deserved. I must keep telling you how Benedict is sick with love for Beatrice. From such wood, young Cupid's crafty arrows often made wounding by hearsay only. Now begin for a look where Beatrice, like, a lapwing runs, hugging the ground to hear our conversation. There's my cousin and Margaret.

The fun of fishing is to watch the fish cut through the silver stream with golden oars, then greedily gulp down the treacherous bait. And so we fish for Beatrice. See her now hiding in that honeysuckle hedge? Not my hair. Oh. I'll play my part well. You can count on me. Then let's get closer to her. Let her ear not lose a single fragment of our bait. Branches! No, really, Margaret. She's too disdainful. But that's her nature. Independent, wild. She's like a young hawk on a cliff.

You're sure Benedict is in love with Beatrice? What? According to the prince and Claudio. And they want you to break the news to her? Oh, they practically entreated me to tell her. But I said no. If they loved Benedict, they ought to let him struggle with his love and never breathe a word of it to Beatrice. Did you say so? Senior Benedict is surely fit for Beatrice's bed. What is she? Cleopatra? Nefertiti?

There is no woman he's not worthy of. I doubt you'll meet a more deserving man. But nature never made a woman's heart of prouder stuff than that of Beatrice. disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes despising all they see her piercing mind values itself so highly that to her All other stuff seems worthless. She can't love. Affection's wholly alien to her nature. She loves herself so much. I fear you're right. Mm-hmm.

It wouldn't be a good idea at all for her to know. No. She'd only mock his love. Oh, too true. Too true. I never met a man so wise. So noble or so young and handsome that she won't spell him backwards. Is he handsome? Beatrice will say, he ought to be my sister. Tall? He's a pointless lance. Short. He's a diamond that's been badly cut. Speaks well, a vein that's blown by every wind. Silent, a block that can be blown by none. In this way she'll turn each man inside out.

slighting good qualities, despising truth, debunking merit and sincerity. You're right. Her carping does her little credit. To be as unconventional and strange as Beatrice is not to be desired. But who dares tell her? What about you? If I spoke to her, she'd mock me into air. Oh, how she'd laugh and jeer till I was dizzy. Shoot her wit till I lay dying. No, let Benedict, like covered fire.

Burn himself up in size and waste away. Better to die like that than with derision, which is death by tickling. But tell her anyway. See what she says. No. I shall go instead to Benedict. And tell him he must wrestle with his passion. No, hero, don't. Out of my face. Yes, I will. I'll devise some truthful calamities to slur my cousin with. You never know how one well-aimed bad word may poison love. You mustn't do your cousin so much wrong.

She cannot be so lacking in good sense, as clever and perceptive as she is, or said to be, but she'll turn up her nose at such a prize as Signor Benedict. He is the only man in Italy. Except for my dear Claudio, of course. I hope you won't be angry with me, madam. If I should speak my mind. But Benedict... Figure... Bearing, conversation, courage is reckoned the best man in Italy. The best. It's true. His reputation's excellent. Yes, and it has been earned with excellence. Yes. Wow. Let's go in.

I've dresses I must show you. Help me choose. Tomorrow I must look my very best. Madam, I promise you, we've caught our fish. Yes. If so, then... Chance is king in love's affairs. Some Cupid shoots and others he ensnares.

My ears have just caught fire. Can this be true? Are scornful, proud to be my only praise? Contempt and haughty pride? I'm done with you. Scant glories ever garnered from such traits. But, Benedict, love on. I will requite you. Your loving hand will tame my too wild heart. Love me. And my changed manners will incite you to bind us so close we shall never part. They say you're worthy of me. And I know I needed no one's word to tell me so.

The play on podcast series, Much Ado About Nothing, was written by William Shakespeare and translated into modern English verse by Ranjit Bolt. All episodes were directed by Brendan Fox. Radio play by Catherine Eaton. Executive producer, Michael Goodfriend. This podcast was recorded under a SAG-AFTRA agreement. The cast is as follows. Tracy Lane as Beatrice. Reg Rogers as Benedict. Taya Guarino as Hero. Zion Jang as Claudio.

Carmen Lechivada as Don Pedro, Alejandra Escalante as Margaret and Conrad, Demosthenes Crisson as Leonardo, Dee Nelson as Antonia, Brian Owen as Dogberry, Stephen Michael Spencer as Boraccio, Evan Zess as Naval Cadet Oatcake and Sea Coal. Luis Moreno as Don John and the Sexton. Mary Bacon as Deacon Francis and Virgis. Casting by the Telsey Office, Karen Castle, CSA.

Voice and text coach, Julie Faux. Original music composition mix and sound design by Lindsay Jones. Vocal arrangement and music direction by Stephen Michael Spencer. Sound engineering and mixing by Saraharu Yagi. Mix engineer and dialogue editor, Larry Walsh. Podcast mastering by Greg Cortez at New Monkey Studio. Coordinating producer, Transcend Streaming, Kira Bowie and Liana Keys.

The Play On Podcast series, Much Ado About Nothing, is produced by Next Chapter Podcasts and is made possible by the generous support of the Hits Foundation. Visit nextchapterpodcasts.com for more about the Play On Podcast series. Visit playonshakespeare.org for more about Play on Shakespeare. Subscribe to Play on Premium for ad-free episodes and join our Patreon for exclusive merchandise and early commercial-free releases. Go to nextchapterpodcast.com for our bonus content.

where you'll find interviews with the artists, producers, and engineers who brought it all to life. And remember, the world must be people. Join Play On Premium to get merch like t-shirts, hoodies, and coffee mugs, ad-free episodes, and bonus content video featuring interviews with the actors, producers, playwrights, and directors who brought it all to life. Go to ncpodcasts.com and subscribe to Play On Premium to support the art and the artists.