Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel (16 page)

Rachel had been hoping for such a fancy speech, but still it was a surprise to hear from the count’s lips. She drew herself up tall. “But what a strange falcon we would consider him, who ignores partridges and pheasants to seek his quarry among the sparrows,” she began.

Her heart was pounding; yet she kept her voice calm as she continued with more of the courtly love ritual’s strange formality. “I am honored that a count finds a humble woman such as myself worthy of his love, but I am afraid to accept a man of such a grand and lofty family.”

Eudes’ eyebrows rose in surprise, then his expression slowly changed to one of grudging respect. “Every man ought to ask for love where its persuasion impels him. Surely a falcon flies better when it takes a resourceful lark than when taking a fat quail that runs in a straight line.”

“But it is not natural for a man of such high rank to faithfully love a woman of a lower one, and if he does, he will soon come to loathe her.” She turned her palfrey around and began riding back to town.

Eudes quickly caught up with her. “Love that arises solely from delight in a woman’s beauty is excellent in any class and not sought from the privilege of rank alone.”

Was the count threatening her by mentioning the privileges of rank? Rachel fought her fear to answer him properly. “Your great haste seems to violate the custom of courtly love, for the wise lover, when conversing for the first time with a lady whom he has not previously known, should not ask specifically for gifts of love but should show himself pleasant and courteous.”

Eudes seemed taken aback by her words, and they rode in silence while he fashioned his response. “I now see that all I’ve heard about you is true, for it is clear from your answer that you are as wise as you are fine in character.”

“Yet I believe you have spoken thus because you think I will be only too willing to grant what you ask. Therefore there is good cause to be suspicious of your love.” Rachel smiled inwardly.
Does he really think his kind words will win me so easily?

Eudes was not so quickly dismissed. “If my feelings are too strong to resist, I plead necessity as a defense against your charge of unworthiness. If I have any lack of judgment in love, I must seek the love of a woman with great wisdom and worth to remedy this.”

They were fast approaching the city walls, and Rachel had no intention of riding past them in the count’s company. He seemed willing, perhaps even amused, to participate in this courtly love pastime, so she dare not repudiate him outright.

“Though you might, by your arguments, compel me to love you,” she said. “There is another reason that keeps me from doing so. Suppose you did win my love? If it came to the ears of the people, they would ruin my good name. It is better, then, to refrain from entering into such an affair than to suffer so much that we must end it after it has begun.”

“I ask only for you to consider my suit and not reject the love of a count, for only a man of such high rank is worthy of a love such as yours.”

Rachel remembered how she’d planned to delay him. “A woman whose love is sought should either promise it to her suitor or deny it outright. But if she is in doubt as to the character of the man she may say to him: do good deeds before you seek the reward for good deeds.”

Church bells ringing at midday prevented Eudes from replying. Intending to walk the rest of the way home, Rachel started to dismount.

“Wait,” Eudes called out. “Keep the horse so we may ride and discuss this matter again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is our Sabbath.” Now would come the first test. Would Eudes easily accept the limitations of her religion?

“Then we’ll ride again on Monday morning.” He paused, apparently realizing that he had been too forceful for a courtly lover. “If this palfrey pleases you, I ask you to keep her as a small token of my affection.” He smiled at her expression of astonishment. “I hope that by Monday I will have more good deeds to my credit.”

Rachel nodded and waved Eudes adieu. Lost in thought, she almost rode past her destination, the stables where Aunt Sarah’s horse used to board. She had been so worried about possible punishments for rejecting the count that she had not considered the rewards she might receive for accepting him. Look at those diamonds he’d given Marie.

Papa himself had told her that it wouldn’t be a sin, and that Eliezer would have to take her back afterward. But what would happen when Eliezer returned at the end of the month? She shivered in disgust—how could she possibly shuttle back and forth between Eudes’ bed and her husband’s?

nine

For three weeks Count Eudes wooed Rachel with increasing fervor. He sent more gifts—perfume, silk hose, a pearl necklace and earrings. She rode with him several times a week, he making new protestations of love and she finding new ways to discourage him without entirely rejecting him. But with the Cold Fair only days away, Eudes growing impatient, and Eliezer due to arrive anytime, Rachel knew the moment had come to take the action she so dreaded.

When they arrived at the St.-Jacques Gate at the end of their afternoon ride, she gazed up at the count in what she hoped was an expression of adoration. “Your persistence and devotion have indeed moved my heart, Your Grace, and I am inclined to accept your proposal of love.”

“I have devoted myself to your service.” His eyes glinted with lust. “Nothing could give me greater happiness than knowing that my deeds may obtain from you the reward I desire.”

Rachel took a deep breath. “I ask of you merely one more deed, one that requires great nobility of spirit.”

Eudes looked at her with distrust, so she reached out and took his hand, something she had never done before. “My husband will return to Troyes any day. If you can restrain your passion until the Cold Fair ends, if you can hide your love so well that all believe it has died, then when the year begins and my husband is gone, I will be yours.”

“Today I am the most joyful of men.” He didn’t try to hide his triumph. “Rest assured that your love will be safe with me.” He bent over to kiss her hand, and it was clear that he intended to kiss her lips next.

Rachel pulled just far enough away. “I am pleased that my answer has given you happiness, but to keep anybody from having reason to suspect evil of us, it is proper that our discussion should end here.”

He took a swig from the wineskin hanging from his saddle, and then saluted her with it. “To the New Year, my beautiful Mistress Rachel. I eagerly await celebrating it with you.”

With a great sigh of relief, Rachel rode toward home. She would leave her mare at the stables, where everyone assumed the animal belonged to Miriam. At afternoon services, she thanked the Merciful One for sparing her so far, and she prayed fervently that Eudes should forget about her and that word of their liaison never come to Eliezer’s ears. When Eliezer arrived in Troyes that evening, she greeted him with greater enthusiasm than when he’d escaped from the bandits in Burgundy.

 

With her husband’s return, Rachel was even more determined to learn about becoming a cloth merchant. It wasn’t just that she missed Eliezer while he was gone: their children suffered from his absence as well. Little Rivka barely remembered who he was, while Shemiah should be learning Torah from his father. If Eliezer continued spending so much time away from home, their children would see Salomon and Judah as father figures. But what frightened her most was the fact that each journey Eliezer took entailed a risk that he might not return at all.

So Rachel suggested to Salomon that they visit the widow Alette and see her loom.

“If we earn enough in Sepharad, Eliezer can use our profit to buy kermes and indigo from Maghreb.” Rachel’s eyes shone with excitement. “Luxury woolens bring the most money, but they require the finest dyes.”

Despite his anxiety over her deception with Eudes, Salomon couldn’t help but smile. “If we get a good price for this year’s vintage, perhaps I can also invest in your venture.”

“Oh, Papa.” She threw her arms around him. “That would be wonderful. And if the vintage is very good, we might be able to buy some Tyrian purple.”

When they reached Alette’s home, they saw that her brother Albert did the weaving while she, her daughters, and her neighbors spun the wool.

“It takes eight of us to spin enough yarn for one loom,” Alette told Salomon.

Their workroom was located in the front room of the house, with the loom taking up most of the space. Unlike Sybille’s vertical loom, this one was set up like a long table. The many warp threads were pulled taut parallel to the length of it, toward the end where Albert sat. In the center, two square frames were suspended perpendicular to the threads. From these hung many small rings with one warp thread running through each. Albert held up a shuttle similar to the one Sybille used to weave linen.

“What are these frames for?” Rachel asked, and then added to Salomon, “The Talmud didn’t describe anything like this.”

“These are the heddles,” Alette said. “Their rings keep the warp threads in place so the weft can easily move between them.”

She gestured to her brother, who pressed a foot pedal underneath the loom. Abruptly a pulley hoisted one of the heddle frames, its rings lifting half the warp threads up with it. Albert sent the shuttle between the raised warp threads and the remaining half below. Then he worked another pedal, which caused the first heddle to lower and its mate to rise.

Immediately he sent the shuttle across to the other side, and pulled the weft tightly toward him. As with Sybille’s linen, they watched with appreciation as Alette’s wool turned into fabric. Eventually Albert paused and rolled the woven cloth onto the rod in front of him while Alette unrolled more warp threads from the rod at the far end of the loom.

Salomon smiled in approval. “I thought Sybille’s loom was efficient, but this is clearly an improvement.”

Albert nodded. “We can weave twice as fast as on my sister’s old hanging loom. But it needs a man to work it. First to pull the warp threads tight and tie them on the end rods—”

“Which means the warp threads must be both strong enough to support the weft and elastic enough to stretch onto the frame,” Alette interrupted. “That’s why we prefer to spin our own thread, so we can control the quality.”

“Attaching the warp threads must be what the Mishnah means by ‘stretching,’ ” Rachel whispered to Salomon.

“My brother is also useful to lift the heavy finished cloth off the loom at the end. But mostly we need his long arms so we can weave a wider cloth.” Albert held out his arms and indeed, he just touched both sides of the loom.

“May I try it?” Salomon asked.

Albert offered the older man his bench. Salomon tapped the foot pedals a few times, watching intently as one heddle rose and then the other, each taking half the warp threads with it. He lowered the appropriate frame, took up the shuttle and carefully pushed it halfway across the warp before reaching around with his other hand to pull it through the rest of the way.

Salomon nodded slowly. “Now I see what you mean.”

Albert resumed his position at the loom. Rachel felt hypnotized as she stared at his feet pumping the pedals, the heddles bobbing up and down, and the shuttle flying across the warp.

“How long is a finished bolt of broadcloth?” she asked.

“About forty to fifty cubits,” he replied, his pace not slowing in the slightest.

“And how long does it take to weave?”

“About two weeks,” Alette said. “Our family can produce twenty such pieces a year; twenty-five if we’re lucky.”

“I have a proposal for you.” Rachel addressed both siblings. “Would you be willing to weave for me if I supplied the combed wool?”

Alette and Albert exchanged puzzled looks. “You’d buy all the fabric we weave?” he asked.

Rachel grinned. “And you’d have no expenses at all.”

“Where’s your profit?” Alette asked.

“We’ll pay everyone by the piece and take our profit on the finished dyed cloth.”

The proud look on Papa’s face as they walked home made it clear that he understood her idea. “Joheved’s manor can provide the wool, our family and Alette’s spin it, Albert weave it, and Eliezer can import the dyes. Then we’ll pay the dyer by the piece and sell the finished product at the Cloth Fair.”

Rachel took his arm and her voice rose with excitement. “Then we’ll hire more spinsters and more weavers and more dyers until we’re earning so much money that Eliezer never has to travel again.”

 

Eudes was true to his word and left Rachel alone for the month of November while Eliezer was home. She was grateful for being able to push her troubles with the count out of her mind, but it wasn’t long before she had other concerns to occupy her. Mama was ill with ague, leaving Rachel to host the many guests who dined with Salomon during the fair. She and Miriam also had to supervise the servants as they scrubbed clean the winepress, utensils, vats, and casks. Heaven forbid that off-odors should result from their negligence.

In addition every pruning knife had to be cleaned and sharpened, and all the straws prepared that they would need for tying up the vines in the spring. But these tasks required little intellectual skill, leaving Rachel vulnerable to increasing anxiety over Eudes’ future designs. In desperation she asked Miriam to discuss Talmud with her while they worked.

Her sister agreed readily. “Let’s review the section about Hanukkah.”

“I thought you already studied that with Joheved.”

Miriam’s cheeks flushed pink. “When Joheved and I were learning it, I wanted to stop because it was too hard. Now that I’m more experienced, I’d like to see how difficult it really is.”

“I’d love to,” Rachel replied, glad that Miriam had chosen a demanding
sugia
. “I only got to read Papa’s
kuntres
to myself.”