Don John The Bastard - Shakespeare Short Story

Ruby Red

Thousands of stories have been told over the years about the wrong doings and catastrophes caused by bastards. Everybody views them as troublesome, and quite rightly so, for when a young and innocent boy gets told that he will be hated his entire life, he is forced to grow to meet that reality, as there is no other option than to fit into their role as seen by society. So here's another story to add to the thousands, about a bastard son, and his royal half brother.

My name is Don John, however I was known all around Messina as 'The Bastard'. Nobody even knew my name apart from the few that cared enough to support me during my younger years when I could not look after myself. My childhood years have been mostly forgotten, as I was forced to grow up so fast, and the only good thing I have from them is my younger half sister Marcella. I never knew my real mother, Meretrice, for she died after having Marcella when I was still too young to speak or walk, although I am led to believe she was rather beautiful. Marcella never knew her father as he left the night she was conceived, however I was lucky enough to know mine. He was the king of Messina, and a very noble man despite his adulterous behavior with a woman that was not his wife. When he heard of the tragedy of my mother dying, he took pity on me and did all that he could to welcome me and Marcella into his family. His wife, Lucia, had just birthed a baby boy named Don Pedro who was the heir to the throne. She was a lovely and fair lady, who welcomed Marcella with loving arms, although as nice as she treated myself, it was clear the way she felt about having to raise a boy that belonged illegitimately to her husband, and not to her.

As the years passed it became more prominent of the differences between myself and my half brother. I was forever living in his shadow, and never got treated as well as he did, but I was alright with this, because I had other things in my life that were worth far more than royalty and power. Marcella was always there for me, and Don Pedro and I were good friends despite our heritage. The three of us were as close as real siblings, although Marcella and Don Pedro were not related at all, and we often had a lot of fun taking advantage of the family's land surrounding the palace. Never once did it occur to us as children that anything in life could possibly go wrong. As we grew up, our naivety was replaced by responsibility, and we were quick to be told that life, in fact, had more to it than endless days playing in the sun. Don Pedro had duties to fulfill as the prince of Messina, and Marcella was expected to help the servants, and spent most of her time working as a chambermaid. Meanwhile, I did all I could to find work outside of the palace, and struggled to make money. Thankfully, at the end of each hard day, the three of us could give each other company and spend our nights like we spent our childhood.

It wasn't until I was well into my young adult years that anything particularly bad happened to me. It was a midsummer's day, and I was tired after being outside in the heat for so long. I remember walking up the path to the palace in the dark, and seeing the warm faint glow of candlelight coming from Marcella's window in the maids quarters. I thought it was odd that she was in her bedroom this early into the night and not socialising downstairs with everybody else, but I was too exhausted to pay much attention to the matter, and instead shook the thought off and went inside to get a cold drink and turn in early for the night. I said goodnight to those still working in the kitchens, and staggered up the stairs to my bedroom. As I passed the door of Marcella's bedroom I heard a series of unusual noises coming from inside. First a horrified gasp and panicked whispering, followed by an alarming clatter and faint crying. I knocked on the door, wondering what Marcella was doing, and much to my surprise, the person who I met at the door was not my half sister, but instead my half brother. He bid me goodnight and hurried down the stairs in a fluster.

Upon looking past the doorway, I saw Marcella lying on the floor by her bedside, crying as if she had never felt such despair. I rushed to her side, and pulled her into a comforting hug, asking her what had happened and why Don Pedro had been with her. To which she replied that Don Pedro had come uninvited, confessed his affection for her, and asked for her hand in marriage. Marcella buried her head into my shoulder and I let her tears soak through my shirt. "I don't love him!" she exclaimed. "He's my most wondrous companion, but I don't love him and I shan't marry him!".

It became apparent to me that she was lying on the floor. The glass of a vase was lying shattered next to her, and surrounding her were white lilies. "I did hath't to telleth him i didn't wanteth to marry him, and he hit me. I fell back 'gainst the wall and then he simply did leave". My anger was through the roof. How dare he ask my little sister to marry him. How dare he take a hand to her. This was beyond unacceptable and he was not going to get away with this. I picked Marcella up in both arms and placed her on her bed, I then told her not to worry, and left, closing the door to her room carefully so as not to make a sound. I thundered down the stairs and straight over to the fireplace where Don Pedro stood holding a glass of wine, looking soullessly into the flames. I halted behind him, "Don Pedro" I cried furiously. He turned quickly, but not quickly enough to dodge the wine bottle that I had taken from the fireplace and smashed across his face. The glass crashed to the tile below, and the small remainder of the ruby liquid mixed with the crimson of his blood, soaking my tear-stained shirt. "How dare thee did hurt mine sister, thee foul snake hearted daw". He rose from the floor, clutching his face. "Thy dim witted sister did turn down mine handeth in feather-bed. The lady is the real daw. The lady ought to knoweth what's valorous for herself". He fumbled around with his other hand looking for something sturdy to lean against, but was instantly knocked back to the ground when my fist collided with his jaw.

Don Pedro used what was left of his energy to crawl as far away as possible from me, but his efforts were made worthless, as he was in no more of a better position than he was in mere seconds ago. I reeled my arm back, ready to offer him another blow, but as the space closed between my fist and his face, I thought about what Marcella would think if she knew I was causing violence just below where she was asleep. I stopped just centimeters away from contact and stepped back from the near unconscious Don Pedro. I watched as he pulled himself onto his feet and stared me dead in the eye with pure malice. He limped towards me, trembling, however the pain that he was in didn't stop him from attacking back. He kicked out, and the next thing I felt was the cold hardness of the blood soaked floor against my cheek. He kicked me in the stomach over and over again until I had the sense to grab his ankle and unbalance him, causing him to come clattering down next to me, winding him. I took the opportunity and launched myself on top of him. I had my hands around his neck and was watching him struggle from beneath me when I heard the desperate scream from behind me. At first I thought to ignore it, for whoever it was would just get in my way, however it only took me seconds to realise that the girl watching me attack my half brother, was Marcella.

I loosened my grip on Don Pedro, and pricked my ears to listen for the words of pained disapproval from Marcella, but they never came. Or at least if they did I never heard them due to the ringing in my ears that came about after being head butted from beneath me. That was it. I wasn't taking this any longer. We both scrambled to our feet and distanced each other at opposite sides of the room. My vision was blurred, but I wasn't going to give up. I wrapped my hands around the first thing my fingers could find, a small blunt circular thing that felt heavy enough to cause serious damage if aimed at the head. I blindly launched the object towards Don Pedro with all my might. I heard whatever it was colliding with his thick skull, and then I heard a dull thud as his body fell to the floor. There was a chilling silence which followed, but was soon replaced as the room filled with shocked whispers from the traumatised spectators. I rubbed my eyes until I could see again, however, when I opened them, I was greeted by the worst sight imaginable. There he was, Don Pedro looking down in awe at the body of my half sister, lying dead on the tile, in a pool of her own blood.

Her funeral was at dawn the next morning. I wasn't able to attend for I was trapped in a cell. The first I heard from anybody was from the king himself. My father. I had only ever met him once, when he took me from my dead mother's arms, and gave me a new chance at life. But there he was, standing on the other side of the bars that separated me from the life that he had given me. I was told that what hit her was the engagement ring that Don Pedro planned on giving her, encrusted with a dazzling ruby. "I hath't cometh to inform thee that thee shalt be leaving the palace. I hath't been advised to execute thee, in fear yond thee harm anybody else. However, I couldst not killeth mine own son, for I hath't just did lose mine only daughter. Marcella wast mine daughter and thy true sister. Don pedro now knoweth the truth, and sends his condolences and apologies. He did doth ask me to giveth thee this". The king handed me a single ruby red rose and unlocked the cell doors. I waited until he was out of sight before whispering to myself  "I had rather be a canker in a hedge than a rose in his grace".