Chapter Four:

The Lonely Swan

Upon fleeing the party, Don Jon had sought out the only place that seemed right, the fountain. He had traveled the familiar path with practiced ease, rushing through the pitch black maze of hedges until he reached the courtyard at its center, the cracked cobblestones seeming to glow in the soft silvery moonlight. Of course, the beauty of the courtyard did him no good now.

"John! I am sorry! I didn't know!"

Oh, how fresh, how reassuring. It didn't matter that Beatrice 'didn't know', in fact it was better that way, it gave him all the more reason to tell her. He bit his lip to keep the words from coming before he could organize the pain, the sorrow, and the anger so intense it turned his face a fiery red, into a flurry of insults almost elegant enough to be a poem, of sorts. What he did not know however, was that like so many parts of his life, this plan was destined to fall apart. As he readied himself to speak, as he opened his mouth ready to berate her for everything that she had done to him and more, Beatrice blinked. A single tear escaped her eye, glistening softly in the moonlight as it rolled down her cheek, before dropping into the darkness.

That tear was all that it took for the young man's anger to vanish. Don Jon was frozen, suddenly at a loss for words as he realized that all of his insults were now useless, Beatrice was already in pain. As he watched, there was another tear, and another trailing tiny glistening rivulets behind them as they fell away into oblivion.

"I am sorry, so sorry! But I love Benedick now! We are engaged! I cant just go back, don't you understand? Why must you go?" Beatrice sobbed, frantically wiping the tears from her eyes in a hopeless effort to hide the depth of her sorrow.

"Beatrice, do not cry like this! You are like a beautiful swan whose wings have been broken! Your sadness is surely not as great as that."

"You know Jon, aside from my father you are the first man to see me cry, and indeed to cause me to do so" she sniffed "I certainly would not have expected that" laughing ever so slightly through her tears, she stepped closer.

He reached out to her, gently placing his hands on her trembling shoulders. For a moment, they stood there, both at a loss for words. Then, Don Jon broke the silence.

"Beatrice"

Upon hearing her name, she looked up at him, the tears in her eyes glistening like stars in the moonlight.

"Beatrice" he continued "Eyes as beautiful as yours do not deserve to drown in unnecessary tears. I pray you, do not cry for me, my swan, for your wings will heal. I know you will fly again. Now, I must go, before I dishonor the name of Don Jon anymore in your eyes" with that, he took her hand, kissed it softly, and turned to slip away into the darkness. After a few steps, he remembered something, turning once more, he said "I understand if you do not care to remember me, but if you do I pray that it is as the man I was, and not the boy I have become as of late."

"I won't forget you, John" Beatrice called to him as he turned once again. He gave no answer, but to keep walking, until the shadows enveloped him completely.

Don Jon did not look back as he walked, nor did he look back once he reached the house, or even after he had safely bolted his study door behind him. Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed the crumpled sonnet and tossed it to the floor, where it belonged. The sonnet was useless now. After all, he had actually managed to tell Beatrice exactly what she needed to hear, and he had meant every word. So, why was he so sad?