Much Ado About Nothing Beatrice and Hero
My Dear Hero,
I care for you deeply and often feel pangs of maternal sentiment toward you, which although most bizarre, provokes within me a strong inclination to protect you from the masked absurdity that festers amongst our terribly backward society. Darling Hero, perhaps it is the illusory charm of flattery that has cast you under this spell and sucked you of spirit and free will, but I feel a sisterly duty to remind you of what you are becoming: a blithe and bonny play toy for the Prices and Counties! You have agreed to wed a man with whom you have exchanged scarcely a dozen words and whom is hardly yet a man given his considerably deficient wit incapable of wooing you itself! The juvenile games of Claudio and his fellow Adams concern me, for I worry how they all will choose to mould you against their backdrop of ever changing priorities.
Please keep this is mind, I write this out of love.
Yours,
Beatrice.
Dear Beatrice,
I know you mean well but your letter is coloured with undertones of self regard and you profess an expertise on the subjects of love and marriage that I must call into question seeing as you yourself have never experienced such things. Your notorious wit that you pride yourself upon, although charming and intelligent, appears to disguise a bitterness for the world, and for its men in particular that I fear may render you eternally unfit for love. Disdain and scorn are wasted feelings darling Beatrice, and perhaps one day you will come to realise this if you only open your heart to the sweet delight of courtship.
I have known you since you were a small child and can therefore deem your shrewdness a guise for vulnerability, but I know that inside you are a compassionate, warm natured woman and I wish that a husband can come to know this.
Yours,
Hero
My Dear Hero,
Your happiness is all that matters to me during this grave time in which I am writing and I wish for you to know that I would do anything to restore the name that
I care for you deeply and often feel pangs of maternal sentiment toward you, which although most bizarre, provokes within me a strong inclination to protect you from the masked absurdity that festers amongst our terribly backward society. Darling Hero, perhaps it is the illusory charm of flattery that has cast you under this spell and sucked you of spirit and free will, but I feel a sisterly duty to remind you of what you are becoming: a blithe and bonny play toy for the Prices and Counties! You have agreed to wed a man with whom you have exchanged scarcely a dozen words and whom is hardly yet a man given his considerably deficient wit incapable of wooing you itself! The juvenile games of Claudio and his fellow Adams concern me, for I worry how they all will choose to mould you against their backdrop of ever changing priorities.
Please keep this is mind, I write this out of love.
Yours,
Beatrice.
Dear Beatrice,
I know you mean well but your letter is coloured with undertones of self regard and you profess an expertise on the subjects of love and marriage that I must call into question seeing as you yourself have never experienced such things. Your notorious wit that you pride yourself upon, although charming and intelligent, appears to disguise a bitterness for the world, and for its men in particular that I fear may render you eternally unfit for love. Disdain and scorn are wasted feelings darling Beatrice, and perhaps one day you will come to realise this if you only open your heart to the sweet delight of courtship.
I have known you since you were a small child and can therefore deem your shrewdness a guise for vulnerability, but I know that inside you are a compassionate, warm natured woman and I wish that a husband can come to know this.
Yours,
Hero
My Dear Hero,
Your happiness is all that matters to me during this grave time in which I am writing and I wish for you to know that I would do anything to restore the name that