Page 21 (1/2)

Ah, yes, I was all too ready for this

Chapter 3

3

OH, HOW LONG the days could be without hihted There caone on most important errands The house must run as if he were there

I slept in his empty bed, and no one questioned me I searched the house for any personal trace of hiued me I feared he would never come back

But he always came back

When he caht ainst his hard chest My weight was nothing to hirow taller and heavier every day

I would never be anything but the seventeen-year-old boy you see now, but how could a ht as he heft me with such ease? I a child

I liked it best-if I had to share with the others-when he read to us aloud

Surrounding himself with candelabra, he spoke in a hushed and sympathetic voice He read The Divine Comedy by Dante, the Decameron by Boccaccio, or in French The Romance of the Rose or the poees we must understand as well as we understood Greek and Latin He warned us that literature would no longer be confined to the classic works

We sat in silence around him, on pillows, or on the naked tile Some of us stood near him Others rested back on their heels

So those melodies he'd learned from his teacher, or even the wilder ribald tunes he'd picked up in the streets He sang mournfully of love andeyes

I had no jealousy I alone shared the Master's bed

Sometimes, he even had Riccardo sit outside the bedroom door and play for us Obedient Riccardo never asked to come inside

My heart raced as the curtains closed around us The Master pulled openit playfully, as if it were no