It would be all to easy to dismiss the character of Dogberry in William Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing as so much comedic nonsense, as just another excuse for a few laughs in a play that seems to grow darker and darker as it rolls on towards the final act. Indeed, Dogberry may be both of those things, but amidst his linguistic foibles, his legal incompetance, and perhaps most importantly his seeming complete lack of self-awareness, it is easy to miss the fact that he's also quite a bit more complicated. An "officer," certainly; a "wise fellow," perhaps; "as pretty a piece of flesh as any in Messina," well, probably not-but what Dogberry can certainly claim bragging rights to is a key role in highlighting the action of the rest of play (IV.ii.80-2). He becomes, at various points, a kind of foil to several of the characters whose wit is fundamental to the action of the play, a buttress against the lagging comedic action of the middle acts, and a symbol of overarching stability, of rightful order even, in a town that knows very little of potential evil.

Much has been made of Dogberry's linguistic incompetance; partially because Shakespeare's knowing mutilation of the constable's lines demonstrates a brilliant manipulation of language, but mostly because Dogberry is just simply hilarious. So hilarious, in fact, that we have to wonder if there isn't an element of tragedy in the character. There seems to be echoes here of the Mel Brooks line, the one that goes something like, "tragedy is when I stub my toe, comedy is when you fall down a sewer and die." Certainly there can be said to be both bits of the comedic and the tragic pent up in Dogberry. It would be all to easy to delve into some psychoanalysis of Dogberry's assertion that he is a man who "hath had losses" as a means of generating sympathy for the guy, but, in all honesty, this is not really neccesary (IV.ii.84). Because in a play where words represent a sort of ultimate power-where Benedick's and Beatrice's love lives and dies by the sword play of their wit, and Caudio nearly crushes Hero to death with his misguided wrath-it is not too hard to imagine the impotence of a character who cannot clearly convey the simplest of ideas.

The play quite rightly is "much ado about nothing," the "ado" having been created over the careless wielding of words. Dogberry's character is essential in completing the other side of this dialectic; he is a somewhat less than developed foil to characters like Don John and Claudio, who destroy with words in counterpoint to the one person who posesses the knowledge-just not the words-to set things right. Throughout the play we see words brandished with incredible power. Take Don John, and the effortless way he plants, with a few words, seeds of doubt that will ultimately be Claudio's undoing. "Leonato's Hero," he calls her, "your hero, every man's Hero"; sure, he sets up an elaborate scheme to back up his artifice, but one wonders if the effort wasn't wasted (III.ii.106-7). Claudio seems already convinced by Don John's artful turns of phrase-such "mischief strangely thwarting" needs little impetus to become buried in Claudio's brain (III.ii.132). Shakespeare as well seems convinced that Claudio has taken the Don's baited words, as he wastes no space in illustrating the actual scene of Hero's supposed infidelity. The scene in which Claudio is fooled takes on a new resonance, however, when considered in terms of another: the scene in which Dogberry sets about what should be a relatively simple task in revealing the treachery to Leonato. Here Dogberry's conversational impotence contrasts sharply with Don John-and nearly every other character in the play-for it is in terms of Dogberry, the would be hero, that we understand the semantical mess that drives much of the conflict in the play. In this scene we find Dogberry and his equally mishappen sidekick, Verges completely incapable of rousing Leonato's attention. Dogberry drags out what he has to say in an annoying, self-important preface in a matter that should "decern" (instead of concern) Leonato greatly (III.v.3). He then exchanges a few quips with Verges in an attempt to be witty which culminates in the classic muffed line, "Comparisons are odorous," before losing Leonato's attention completely (16). The end result is Hero's nearly tragic rebuff. Dogberry becomes an essential reference point in a play about "nothing"-nothing, that is, except the potential power in misused words.