to Him not only to serve but also to survive! It was this or the army for me—and I have a powerful dislike of blood.”
“You’ve made a strange choice of profession, then,” said Alessandra, barely able to keep herself from laughing.
Paolo slumped in his chair, like a boat that’s suddenly lost its wind. “It’s true, it’s true! But I have an even greater aversion to legal texts.” He looked utterly miserable. “The truth is,” he whispered, leaning close again, “I can hardly read.”
“Then why are you here? There are many choices for a man, apart from priest, lawyer, or medico .” Alessandra thought, as she said this, that the same was not at all true for her own gender. What could one be but a nun or a wife? Widows often could and did take on the work of their husband. But no woman could set out to be anything—except, perhaps, a servant.
“I ask myself that same question, all the time! Why am I here? All these bits of books piling up in my room now, and I can hardly read them. You can’t know how it bedevils me! It takes me three times as long to parse out a text as the other fellows. And by the time I get to theend, I’ve forgotten the beginning. Half the time the letters dance around and change places and convey another meaning entirely.” He groaned. “I’ve failed my first-year exams three times now!”
Alessandra was about to say “There, there!” and offer comfort—but stopped herself just in time, remembering that men didn’t do this. She tried to think of what Nicco would say. “Bloody hell, Paolo!”
He looked at her, his eyes brimming with gratitude. “That’s what I say, Sandro, old friend. Bloody hell!”
“Bloody hell!” echoed the merchant across the table from them.
The servant boy, Tonio, had come in to clear the tables. Alessandra saw the other boarders hasten to pocket whatever hard rolls were left before Tonio took them away.
As he passed her, he bent close to her ear and whispered, “Meet me at the privy, then.”
At the privy? She wished Nicco were there to tell her whether that was something men did, too. She looked at Tonio, hoping to catch some clue from his expression. Then he winked at her. Alessandra hesitated, then winked back at him.
In her room, she held her head in her hands and moaned. She had no idea what anything meant anymore! Emilia, utterly worn out from the previous day’s journey, was still sleeping. Alessandra put a roll in Emilia’s hand, took a deep breath, then left to go out into the city, determined, beyond anything, not to go anywhere near the privy in Signora Isabella’s boardinghouse.
Ten
Alessandra—now “Sandro” to her fellow students—found out a good deal during her first days in Bologna. The principal lectures were all given in the morning at locations decided on the spur of the moment by the students, who were completely in charge of the hiring and firing of masters. Lectures were held wherever a space could be found, depending on the weather and the master’s willingness to let the students gather at his home, if he had one. A few of the most highly revered masters were able to afford to rent a second house especially for this purpose—amongthem, Alessandra learned, was the renowned and well-respected professor of medicine, Mondino de’ Liuzzi, who was the very reason she’d wanted so much to study in Bologna.
She was waiting for one such lecture to start—this one out in the square, as the magister had earned his degree in philosophy only the year before and was teaching to support the continuation of his studies. Alessandra’s ears pricked up at the mention of a woman doctor at the University of Paris.
“Oh, she’s history!” said a fat youth with pockmarked skin. “Haven’t you heard? She’s been restrained from ever practicing again.”
“Did they burn her?” someone else asked.
“No,” sighed the fat youth, sounding bored. “Only banished her.”
Alessandra felt more conscious than ever
“You’ve made a strange choice of profession, then,” said Alessandra, barely able to keep herself from laughing.
Paolo slumped in his chair, like a boat that’s suddenly lost its wind. “It’s true, it’s true! But I have an even greater aversion to legal texts.” He looked utterly miserable. “The truth is,” he whispered, leaning close again, “I can hardly read.”
“Then why are you here? There are many choices for a man, apart from priest, lawyer, or medico .” Alessandra thought, as she said this, that the same was not at all true for her own gender. What could one be but a nun or a wife? Widows often could and did take on the work of their husband. But no woman could set out to be anything—except, perhaps, a servant.
“I ask myself that same question, all the time! Why am I here? All these bits of books piling up in my room now, and I can hardly read them. You can’t know how it bedevils me! It takes me three times as long to parse out a text as the other fellows. And by the time I get to theend, I’ve forgotten the beginning. Half the time the letters dance around and change places and convey another meaning entirely.” He groaned. “I’ve failed my first-year exams three times now!”
Alessandra was about to say “There, there!” and offer comfort—but stopped herself just in time, remembering that men didn’t do this. She tried to think of what Nicco would say. “Bloody hell, Paolo!”
He looked at her, his eyes brimming with gratitude. “That’s what I say, Sandro, old friend. Bloody hell!”
“Bloody hell!” echoed the merchant across the table from them.
The servant boy, Tonio, had come in to clear the tables. Alessandra saw the other boarders hasten to pocket whatever hard rolls were left before Tonio took them away.
As he passed her, he bent close to her ear and whispered, “Meet me at the privy, then.”
At the privy? She wished Nicco were there to tell her whether that was something men did, too. She looked at Tonio, hoping to catch some clue from his expression. Then he winked at her. Alessandra hesitated, then winked back at him.
In her room, she held her head in her hands and moaned. She had no idea what anything meant anymore! Emilia, utterly worn out from the previous day’s journey, was still sleeping. Alessandra put a roll in Emilia’s hand, took a deep breath, then left to go out into the city, determined, beyond anything, not to go anywhere near the privy in Signora Isabella’s boardinghouse.
Ten
Alessandra—now “Sandro” to her fellow students—found out a good deal during her first days in Bologna. The principal lectures were all given in the morning at locations decided on the spur of the moment by the students, who were completely in charge of the hiring and firing of masters. Lectures were held wherever a space could be found, depending on the weather and the master’s willingness to let the students gather at his home, if he had one. A few of the most highly revered masters were able to afford to rent a second house especially for this purpose—amongthem, Alessandra learned, was the renowned and well-respected professor of medicine, Mondino de’ Liuzzi, who was the very reason she’d wanted so much to study in Bologna.
She was waiting for one such lecture to start—this one out in the square, as the magister had earned his degree in philosophy only the year before and was teaching to support the continuation of his studies. Alessandra’s ears pricked up at the mention of a woman doctor at the University of Paris.
“Oh, she’s history!” said a fat youth with pockmarked skin. “Haven’t you heard? She’s been restrained from ever practicing again.”
“Did they burn her?” someone else asked.
“No,” sighed the fat youth, sounding bored. “Only banished her.”
Alessandra felt more conscious than ever
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