Rashi's Daughters, Book III: Rachel (20 page)

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Authors: Maggie Anton

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She learned more the next day when Guy de Dampierre came for
disner
. The canon, head of Troyes’ cathedral school, was a regular guest, timing his visits for Monday or Thursday when the Torah portion was read in synagogue and expounded at Salomon’s table. These were also days when clerics were permitted to eat meat.
“Here we are again at the plagues in Egypt.” Guy rubbed his hands in anticipation of discussing that week’s scriptural passage. “I’ve been thinking about the problem of God hardening Pharaoh’s heart.”
“Which problem is that?” Judah poured the cleric some wine. “Our Sages have several difficulties with this text.”
“Since it was God who hardened Pharaoh’s heart, then what is Pharaoh’s sin and why does he deserve to be punished?”
Salomon wagged his finger at Guy. “It does not say ‘God hardened his heart’ in the first five plagues, only that ‘Pharaoh’s heart was hardened.’ Our sage, Reish Lakish, taught:
When the Holy One warns a man once, twice, and even a third time, and he still does not repent, only then does the Holy One close his heart against repentance so that He can extract punishment. So it was with wicked Pharaoh. The Holy One sent five plagues to him and he took no notice, so He then said: You have stiffened your neck and hardened your heart, so I will add to your stubbornness.”
Judah and Miriam, recognizing the text from Midrash Rabbah, nodded at each other. “Pharaoh ignored five opportunities to repent and free the Israelites,” Judah said. “Only then, after Pharaoh proved himself unworthy, did the Holy One intervene.”
“That would be an excellent explanation if not for the fact that God tells Moses earlier, ‘I will harden Pharaoh’s heart, that I may multiply My signs and marvels in the land of Egypt,’ ” Guy said. “How do your Jewish Sages explain this?”
Miriam’s forehead wrinkled. “So the Holy One knew in advance what Pharaoh would do, even hardened his heart to make him do it, and then punished him anyway? It doesn’t seem just.”
Salomon sighed. “After Pharaoh acted so wickedly it became clear to the Holy One that Pharaoh did not have the spirit to repent with a whole heart,” he explained. “It was therefore right that the Holy One hardened Pharaoh’s heart in order to multiply His signs so that all would recognize His power.”
“Very good, Papa,” Judah said. “You should be sure to write that in your Torah commentary.”
Thus far Rachel had only partly followed the conversation; her mind was too preoccupied with Eudes’ untimely death and her near-miraculous escape from his clutches. Still, she wanted to be sure she understood Papa properly. “So if repentance is not possible, the Holy One is justified to use this person as a tool to benefit those who can repent, such as Israel.”
Salomon nodded and turned to Guy. “What do you think?”
The canon smiled. “On this matter, we agree. In our scriptures, it is written:
Shall we say is God unjust? Heaven forbid. For scripture says to Pharaoh: ‘I enthroned you for this purpose, that I might display My power in you and that My name might be proclaimed in all the earth.’ Thus God has mercy on whom He wants to have mercy, and He hardens whom He wants to harden. You may say to Me: ‘Then why does God still blame us? For who can resist His will?’ But who are you, O man, to question God? Shall what is formed ask Him who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’ Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?”
Papa looked so pleased that Rachel hesitated asking what happens with ordinary people. Since God knows before a man is born how he will behave during his life, how can a man like Eudes be blamed and punished for his sinful acts or one like Papa praised and rewarded for his virtue?
She was about to ask when Miriam turned to Guy and changed the subject. “Could you please express our community’s deepest condolences to the Countess Adelaide?”
Guy sobered. “Of course.” Then his eyes began to twinkle. “There seems to be some question about how Count Eudes died.”
Rachel gulped. “We heard it was a hunting accident.”
“When his body was found on the ground with a fatal head wound, it was
assumed
that he’d been thrown from his horse and hit his head.” Guy raised his eyebrows and everyone at the table leaned in closer.
“And you think this assumption may be wrong?” Salomon asked.
“I don’t know.” Guy said, helping himself to more cake. “But I heard that the wound looked more like one from an attack than one received in an accident. If he was dazed by his fall, it would be easy to take a branch or rock and finish the job.”
“But who would want him dead?” Rachel asked.
Besides me
.
Guy shrugged. “The number is too great to count: the father or brothers of his previous mistress who died in childbirth, other nobility who covet his land, members of his court who prefer his brother Hugues, or Heaven knows how many who seek revenge for some perceived injury or insult.”
“Or perhaps it wasn’t murder at all,” Miriam said. “If his horse was so spooked as to throw him, perhaps the animal kicked him as well.”
“In all probability you are correct.” Guy sighed. “However, people much prefer to discuss the possibility of foul deeds.”
 
Guy returned to Salomon’s a week later. “It is audacious of me to ask you for a favor that will only waste your time, but I have come to think that to truly understand scripture, I must ascertain the
Hebraica veritas
from the original Hebrew.”
Cheered by Eudes’ death, Rachel couldn’t resist teasing him. “You just realized that the Bible wasn’t given in Latin?”
He smiled and took his customary seat at the table. “I grant that many of my colleagues seem unaware of that fact.”
“If you wish to read Hebrew, someone will need to teach you.” Salomon stroked his beard in thought. “And that someone should be a Jew, although I cannot in good conscience ask any of my students to take time away from their studies.”
To everyone’s surprise, Joheved’s son Shmuel spoke up. “I’ll tutor him, Grandpapa . . . if he teaches me Latin in return.”
Before Salomon could protest, Miriam also volunteered. “I’d be happy to teach him.” She looked at Guy questioningly. “If he doesn’t mind learning along with my children.”
“I’m sure both of you would be excellent instructors,” Guy said. “And I’d consider it an honor to teach Shmuel Latin. I’ve heard excellent reports of his scholarship.”
When Salomon consented, Guy arranged a study schedule with his new teachers and bid them adieu.
When the canon was out of hearing, Judah turned to his nephew in astonishment. “What possessed you to agree to teach Hebrew to the Notzrim?”
“So I can learn Latin.” Shmuel glared at Guy closing the courtyard gate behind him. “The
minim
misuse our Torah to prove their heresies, and I want to know what their scripture says so I can refute them.”
“Amen,” Salomon said.
* * *
On an unseasonably warm day in early March, Shmuel and Guy were sitting in Salomon’s courtyard as the cleric tried to explain a rule of Latin grammar by comparing it to French. They were too engrossed in their discussion to hear the gate open and close, until an elderly, yet commanding, voice interrupted them.
“If you want your student to truly understand grammar, Guy de Dampierre, you should have him study Priscian’s
Institutiones grammaticae
.”
Shmuel spun around to take in the two black-robed monks standing before them. The elder, grey-haired and gaunt, whose arm was supported by his companion, looked to be the oldest man Shmuel had ever seen. The younger monk’s tonsure was completely brown, and Shmuel judged him to be around forty.
Guy looked at the two in astonishment before jumping up to embrace the old monk, the man who had admonished him. But before he could say anything, Salomon burst out of the kitchen door.
“Robert, what brings you here?” Salomon must have realized how rude he sounded because he quickly said, “I’m delighted to see you, of course, but why aren’t you in Molesme?”
The monk sighed. “It’s a long story.”
Now Rivka, Judah, Miriam, and Rachel were outside, eyeing the new arrivals with apprehension.
“Please, come in and tell it.”
Salomon waved everyone toward the house, while Rivka called to her daughters, “Rachel and Miriam, bring some free-press wine from Montier-la-Celle for your father’s guests.”
Salomon chuckled and turned to the elderly monk, “You picked a good time to visit, Robert. The vintage from your old abbey is one of the finest in years.”
“Robert was prior of Montier-la-Celle in the days when we first began using its grapes for our wine,” Miriam explained to Rachel as they filled jugs in the cellar. “Then, when you were still little, he founded his own monastery at Molesme.”
“I remember how upset Papa was when he left. They used to study together.” Maybe that was why Papa liked Guy’s visits.
“I’ve never seen the other monk before,” Miriam said.
The younger cleric was Étienne, a fellow member of Robert’s abbey. Over bread, wine, and cheese, they learned that he was born in Angleterre, studied in Paris and Rome, and was returning from the latter city when he stopped in at Molesme.
“I was so impressed with Robert’s piety that I joined his community,” Étienne explained in heavily accented French. “So when he decided to leave Molesme on account of its laxity, I came with him.”
The salon was filled with questions directed at Robert.
“Molesme lax?” Salomon shook his head. “Surely strict discipline was one of your hallmarks.”
Judah couldn’t understand how a monastery could become lax, since men entered it to devote themselves to the Almighty. Guy didn’t see how Robert could just leave Molesme when he was the abbot. Wouldn’t the pope make him return?
Over bread and cheese, which Rivka pushed on the slender monks, Robert explained that the trouble started ten years ago, when the canon Bruno of Reims became a monk and Molesme began to attract rich benefactors. Ultimately their reputation not only brought unwanted wealth but also unsuitable new members: younger sons forced on them by their noble patrons.
Robert blamed himself. “If I’d been a better abbot, a firm disciplinarian, and if I’d had strength to reject unfit candidates the nobility foisted on us and rally my monks to strict dedication to Benedict’s rule—then I would be worthy to lead Molesme. But I can neither bear the slackers nor reform them.”
“Then what do you intend to do?” Salomon asked.
“I plan to found a new house,” the abbot replied. “But first I must get Étienne settled in Troyes. Here, I am confident, he can continue his excellent education.”
Étienne blushed at the compliment. “Guy wrote to Abbot Robert about the importance of learning Hebrew, and he thought it was a shame that, despite my years of study, there remains a subject of which I am ignorant. We agreed that I should not leave the scholar’s world for the monastic one until I have mastered
Hebraica veritas
.”
Robert gazed hopefully at Salomon, “I want Étienne to learn Hebrew from true scholars, so I must again ask for your help. Will you teach him?”
Salomon paused to stroke his beard, and Rivka whispered to him, “We’d finally have a chance to repay our debt to him for sharing Montier-la-Celle’s grapes with us.”
Salomon turned to Robert and nodded.
Guy broke into a grin. “So, Shmuel, are you ready for another student? And you, Miriam?”
Shmuel shrugged. “It should be no more difficult to teach two than one. And with another teacher, I can learn Latin faster.”
“I will gladly add Étienne to our little class,” Miriam said to Guy with a smile. “It will be good for you to have a study partner more at your level.”
 
Rachel didn’t think Guy or Étienne took their vows of chastity lightly; nevertheless she preferred to avoid the men. But as the final months of Joheved’s pregnancy arrived, Miriam announced her intention of helping with the lambing in Ramerupt until the baby came, leaving Rachel to reluctantly assume her sister’s teaching responsibilities.
But Guy’s usual levity was dampened by Étienne’s severity, and Étienne was so devoted to his studies, ignoring her gender, that at first Rachel thought he was a Ganymede. But she soon saw that his passion for learning had replaced carnal desire and, with a sudden insight, realized that the same thing had probably happened to Papa.
No wonder Mama hasn’t been happy with him.
Rachel was starting to enjoy their studies when Lent intervened, forcing Guy and Étienne to suspend their lessons. Then no sooner was Easter past than Joheved gave birth to another boy, sending Salomon’s entire household to Ramerupt to await the brit milah. Now for the third time, Joheved and Meir named a newborn son Salomon, again depriving Rachel of the opportunity to honor their father that way.
Rachel and Miriam were riding at the rear as their families returned to Troyes after the brit milah, when Miriam motioned Rachel to come along side her. “I’m worried about Joheved: she shouldn’t be bleeding this much after eight days.”
“Surely you can do something to help her,” Rachel said.
“I’m giving her mugwort juice mixed with sage, pennyroyal, and willow seed plus mallow and beet soups,” Miriam replied. “But they cannot be effective unless she is well rested.”
“She’ll be getting plenty of rest now that everyone’s gone home.” Rachel couldn’t see why Miriam was telling her this.
“Joheved will not rest if we celebrate Passover at Ramerupt. No matter how much I caution her, she will insist on supervising the preparations.”
“So one of us will do it instead.”
Miriam shook her head and, using her midwife’s voice of authority, declared, “The only way to prevent Joheved from rising from her bed is to celebrate Passover at Troyes, not Ramerupt, with Joheved a guest rather than the hostess.”

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