Free Imprimatur by Rita Monaldi, Francesco Sorti Page B

a vase of holy water.
    Dismayed and praying heaven with all my heart that it should not deprive me of my master's kindness, I went up to the three chambers under the eaves that had remained empty since the departure of Si­gnor Pellegrino's wife, in order to look for holy water and some holy image to hang above the sick man's bed.
    These were the apartments where the late Signora Luigia had lived. They had remained almost unchanged, as the new host's family sojourn there had been so brief.
    After a rapid search, I discovered above a rather dusty table, next to two reliquaries and a sugarloaf Agnus Dei, a terracotta statue of John the Baptist under a crystal bell; in his hands, he held a glass phial filled with holy water.
    Beautiful holy images hung from the walls. The sight of them affected me deeply, and as I reflected on the sad events of my young life, a lump rose in my throat. It was not right, I thought, that there should be only profane images in the dining chambers, however charming: a picture of fruit, two with wooded landscapes and figures, two more oblong paintings on sheepskin, with various birds, two vil­lages, two Cupids breaking a bow over their knees, and lastly, the one and only concession to the Bible, a licentious depiction of Susannah bathing, watched by the Elders.
    Absorbed in these reflections, I chose a little picture of the Madonna of Sorrows which was hanging there and returned to the apartment, where Cristofano was busying himself around my poor master.
    After arranging the picture and the holy water near the sickbed, I felt my strength abandon me and, collapsing in a corner, I burst into tears.
    "Courage, my boy, courage."
    I found again in the physician's tone of voice that paternal, jovial Cristofano who had in the past few days so raised my mood. Like a father, he took my head in his hands and I could at last unburden my­self. I explained to him that the man who had taken me in, thus saving me from extreme misery, was dying. Signor Pellegrino was a good man, albeit of bilious humour, and although I had been but six months in his service, it seemed to me that I had always been with him. What would become of me now? Once the quarantine was over, even if I were to survive, I would be left without any means of support and I did not even know the new parish priest of Santa Maria in Posterula.
    "Now everyone will need you," said he, raising my dead weight from the ground. "I myself was coming to look for you, as we have to calculate our resources. The subsidy which we shall receive from the Congregation for Public Health will be very small indeed, and we shall have to ration our provisions carefully."
    Still sniffling, I reassured him that the pantry was far from empty, but he wished nonetheless to be taken there. The pantry was in the cellars and only I and Pellegrino possessed a key to it. From now on, said Cristofano, I was to keep both copies in a place known only to myself and him, so that no one could help themselves to the provi­sions. By the faint light that filtered in through the grates, we en­tered the pantry, which was on two levels.
    Fortunately, my master, being a great steward and cook, had never failed to see to it that we were furnished with all manner of odoriferous cheeses, salt meats and smoked fish, dried vegetables and tomatoes, as well as rows of wine and oil jars which, for an instant, delighted the eye of the physician and caused his features to soften. He comment­ed only with a half-smile, and continued: "If there are any problems, you will advise me, and you will also tell me if anyone seems to be in ill health. Is that clear?"
    "But will what has befallen Signor Pellegrino also happen to oth­ers?" I asked with tears again filling my eyes.
    "Let us hope not. But we shall have to do everything possible to ensure that it does not happen," said he, without looking me in the eyes. "You, meanwhile, may continue to sleep in the chamber with him, as you already did last night