The Day the Jester Cried

In the second installment of 'Paintings in Words' by Jayden Beaufoy, she examines the painting 'Stańczyk during a ball at the court of Queen Bona in the face of the loss of Smolensk' Jayden weaves an excellent and heartbreaking tale which explores a mysterious court jester who's usually happy and joyful demeanor finally cracks when he discovers that his homeland has been invaded.

The Day the Jester Cried

By Jayden Beaufoy (Editor and Chief of 'The Inkwell Ledger')

A crisp white piece of paper had drifted from his left hand to the wooden floor below him. The words on the paper were written in coal-black ink and each letter was beautifully written in calligraphy that only the wealthy were taught.

A young man, in his mere twenties, had collapsed against a chair made of thick wood, his shoulders crumpled in sadness and his gaze was focused on the ground. A solemn loose-lipped frown was etched on his face. From afar he looked like a statue due to his unnerving stillness.

The man was dressed in bright red. His trousers were the color of blood and the hem of the pants were tucked into a pair of leather Plantagenet shoes, which were colored in such a dark red that they almost appeared to be black. 

The man wore a thick shirt. The fabric was adorned with a diamond pattern. Some of the diamonds were colored in a beautiful shade of Rosso corsa and the others were a simple off-white. The sleeves of the shirt covered the man's arms and they too had a similar pattern, except the diamonds followed a purely red color scheme in the shades barn red and Carmine. 

Covering the long-sleeved shirt was a cherry-colored cape. Heavy gold buttons were stitched into the left side of the fabric, but the man had forgone them, allowing the shirt underneath to reveal itself. The hem of the cap was cut into a 'U' pattern.

The man was a jester, but his attire didn't look like a typical Jester's uniform until your gaze drifted onto the hat that sat atop his head. The headgear was expectantly red with three points that pointed in a different direction. At the tip of points was a small gold bell that would jingle every time the jester took a step or turned his head. One point was bigger than the rest and it was positioned in the middle of the hat. Numerous bells lined the middle of the point in a perfectly straight line.

The man would stick out in a crowd in his attire, and to some, the bright shades of red would be obnoxious, but the minute they would lay eyes upon the man up close, they would no longer harbor annoyance toward him, because they would recognize him as the enigmatic and highly respected Stańczyk, a court jester employed by the three Polish kings. 

The man's recognizable attire tended to distract people from his facial features. His cheekbones were prominent, and his nose was large and pointed at the tip. An eccentric beard was his most distinctive facial feature. A chocolate brown beard grew just below his chin, and a handlebar-esque set of hair grew above his top lip. The hair was thin and whispy similar in appearance to a cloud. If you happened to get close to him (very few did) and were granted the honor to gaze upon his face then his beard and mustache would be his most notable feature, besides his dark brown eyes which seemed to draw you in and never let you go.

While Stańczyk was known for humorously pattering around the ballroom and doing circus tricks and dances for the people of the royal court he took on a different appearance as he crumpled further into the chair. 

He was despondent, the reason being the piece of paper that had fallen onto the floor. The letter had left him so devastated that he had forgone his duty for the night. Just outside of the room that Stańczyk had hidden himself in was a massive party. Members of the royal court laughed and danced over plates of food and glasses of wine. It was a lively ball that Stańczyk was meant to entertain, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

The Jester had been preparing his routine in an office-like room that led directly into the ballroom when he laid eyes upon a discarded letter. Out of sheer curiosity, he snatched the letter from the table it sat on and he read the contents, effectively collapsing against the chair as he took in the words delicately written on the wrinkled paper.

Smolensk, his fatherland, had been lost to the Grand Duchy of Moscow, though he didn't remember much about his homeland, having left when he was young, At that moment laughter didn't seem appropriate to the jester.

A cold just of wind blew into the compact room and the thin curtain that covered the window danced with the gust of air. Goosebumps emerged on the jester's face as he rubbed his forehead in contemplation. 

The ballroom erupted in cheers as the celebration continued and Stańczyk jolted at the loud noise. He let out a shaky breath and his gaze drifted up toward the window. How is one supposed to accept the dire fate of their homeland? It is merely impossible, and for most, it is something they never have to experience.

Another gust of wind blew into the room and the Jester closed his eyes and allowed the wind the wash over him, for a second, he felt at peace until the wind slowed and he was brought back down to earth, his troubles, his despondence returning like a fatal blow.