Nothing would be more natural for a priest than to enter a church. She began to walk faster. There was only one other hurdle — the guards at the entrance of the Palazzo Comunale.
Luck was with her again. Both guards were talking to an officer. When she went past, they briefly looked at her and then continued their conversation. Where is the nearest church? she wondered, while walking briskly toward the next side street. Any time now the alarm would be raised. With close to one hundred churches in Pisa, one was bound to be nearby, she tried to reassure herself. Turning the corner, she saw two churches a few steps farther down. She entered the larger one by a side entrance. There were four side chapels where she could hide, pretending to pray. A priest, bent low by age, was just emerging from a confessional. The ideal hiding place! Lingering in the obscurity of a pillar, she waited for him to disappear and then entered the curtained confessional.
The small enclosed space felt claustrophobic, nor could she wait too long before making her way out of the city with the gates closing at sundown. She pondered whether it would be safest to keep up the disguise until she was outside — there were always hundreds of robed priests around — or if she should discard the robe. She was just about to leave the confessional, when the faint, but insistent, high-pitched ringing of a bell reached her. The alarm for her escape? She settled back on the hard bench. A girl’s voice startled her.
"Padre, I have sinned."
For in instant, panic gained the upper hand before she caught hold of herself and murmured the phrase her old confessor had said to her so many times: "My child, confess and repent and the good Lord will absolve you."
"Padre, I’ve met Giovanni in secret and I let him kiss me."
As the girl spoke, shouts and the noise of boots on the cobblestones outside the church distracted her. The front door opened, creaking loudly, and she could distinguish individual voices. Summoning up all her wits, she responded to the girl.
"Child, do you love him?"
Quick footsteps resounded down the main aisle.
"Yes, Padre."
"Then you have done no harm. But be strong and remain pure until you are wedded."
The footsteps came to a halt.
"No penance is needed," she added after a pause.
"Thank you, Padre. May I go now?" The girl’s voice sounded joyful.
"Yes, my child. God bless you."
The footsteps resounded once more, the door creaked again, and then silence. She started breathing deeply and slowly and let her pulse calm down, silently thanking the unknown girl.
She remained sitting another while before she mustered the courage to abandon her hiding place. In contrast to earlier, the street was busy with folks of all ages and walks of life. She almost retreated again into the church when it occurred to her that the more people around the less she would be noticed. Holding her bible to her chest, she joined the crowd. The sun was close to setting, and she welcomed the anonymity bestowed by the dim light filtering down from the thin strip of sky between the tall buildings. Sticking to narrow alleys, she went past Monte di Pietà and reached the main street leading to the Porta a Lucca, the northern city exit. She hastened her step as the gate came into view.
Guards were pushing the huge doors closed while she was still more than three hundred feet away. She was not going to make it and started running, almost dislocating her hood. Out of breath, she reached the gate just as the guard wanted to give the door a last push.
She called out: " Messer officer, I have to get outside to administer the last rites to a dying man." For once her quick wit did not let her down.
"Padre, you came just in the nick of time. I’ll open it enough for you to get through, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to come back in again," the guard replied, chuckling, and added: "You’re mighty young for such an onerous duty."
" Grazie ," she said,
Luck was with her again. Both guards were talking to an officer. When she went past, they briefly looked at her and then continued their conversation. Where is the nearest church? she wondered, while walking briskly toward the next side street. Any time now the alarm would be raised. With close to one hundred churches in Pisa, one was bound to be nearby, she tried to reassure herself. Turning the corner, she saw two churches a few steps farther down. She entered the larger one by a side entrance. There were four side chapels where she could hide, pretending to pray. A priest, bent low by age, was just emerging from a confessional. The ideal hiding place! Lingering in the obscurity of a pillar, she waited for him to disappear and then entered the curtained confessional.
The small enclosed space felt claustrophobic, nor could she wait too long before making her way out of the city with the gates closing at sundown. She pondered whether it would be safest to keep up the disguise until she was outside — there were always hundreds of robed priests around — or if she should discard the robe. She was just about to leave the confessional, when the faint, but insistent, high-pitched ringing of a bell reached her. The alarm for her escape? She settled back on the hard bench. A girl’s voice startled her.
"Padre, I have sinned."
For in instant, panic gained the upper hand before she caught hold of herself and murmured the phrase her old confessor had said to her so many times: "My child, confess and repent and the good Lord will absolve you."
"Padre, I’ve met Giovanni in secret and I let him kiss me."
As the girl spoke, shouts and the noise of boots on the cobblestones outside the church distracted her. The front door opened, creaking loudly, and she could distinguish individual voices. Summoning up all her wits, she responded to the girl.
"Child, do you love him?"
Quick footsteps resounded down the main aisle.
"Yes, Padre."
"Then you have done no harm. But be strong and remain pure until you are wedded."
The footsteps came to a halt.
"No penance is needed," she added after a pause.
"Thank you, Padre. May I go now?" The girl’s voice sounded joyful.
"Yes, my child. God bless you."
The footsteps resounded once more, the door creaked again, and then silence. She started breathing deeply and slowly and let her pulse calm down, silently thanking the unknown girl.
She remained sitting another while before she mustered the courage to abandon her hiding place. In contrast to earlier, the street was busy with folks of all ages and walks of life. She almost retreated again into the church when it occurred to her that the more people around the less she would be noticed. Holding her bible to her chest, she joined the crowd. The sun was close to setting, and she welcomed the anonymity bestowed by the dim light filtering down from the thin strip of sky between the tall buildings. Sticking to narrow alleys, she went past Monte di Pietà and reached the main street leading to the Porta a Lucca, the northern city exit. She hastened her step as the gate came into view.
Guards were pushing the huge doors closed while she was still more than three hundred feet away. She was not going to make it and started running, almost dislocating her hood. Out of breath, she reached the gate just as the guard wanted to give the door a last push.
She called out: " Messer officer, I have to get outside to administer the last rites to a dying man." For once her quick wit did not let her down.
"Padre, you came just in the nick of time. I’ll open it enough for you to get through, but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to come back in again," the guard replied, chuckling, and added: "You’re mighty young for such an onerous duty."
" Grazie ," she said,
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