At first the rabbi had thought to study some simple texts of Mishnah and Talmud with the boy, but once the sea journey had aroused such powerful poetic feelings in him, he had postponed rational studies until they were on shore again, and in consequence it was no wonder that when Ben Attar roused him from his sleep and asked him to dissemble his true nature in the morning, so as not to muddle the minds of the local folk by confronting them with the spectacle of two alien and possibly incompatible faiths sharing a single ship, the rabbi manifested no alarm at the surprising request. The verses he had composed during the past days had rendered his personality gentler and more pliant, and so long as he was not required to consume forbidden foods he was ready to shroud his head like Abu Lutfi and disguise himself as a Muslim, until it became plain what kind of welcome the inhabitants of Rouen were reserving for them.
With the light of dawn, however, the only token of welcome in Rouen was the insistent, solemn clangor of bells that filled the air of the small port. Was the ringing intended to gather the faithful for Sunday mass, or to encourage the oarsmen on the boats to board the strange ship and ascertain its true nature? Either way, Abd el-Shafi gave orders for the mainmast to be adorned with some colored pennants that had been hoisted in the ship’s engagements with Christian fleets in the past, but as a token of peace he also lowered a large rope ladder, so as to encourage the ship’s night jailers to become her morning guests. Eventually some armed men came on board, headed by one of the lords of the town, who was amazed not only by the distance the ship had traveled from the Maghreb but also by its original form. It was immediately apparent that here in the port of Rouen there were great experts on ships—how else to explain the chief man’s protracted and minute inquisition into the nature and use of the great sail, the Arab lateen sail, which performed on its own more than a number of small sails did on a Christian ship? Eventually the man went down with his men to inspect the hold and to gape at the two young camels, whose trembling increased so much at the touch of the Christians that the slave was compelled to quieten them with gurgling sounds. Since these Christians had never set eyes on a real camel, they were treated to an account of its qualities, and especially its ability to do without water and food. Then they were offered the usual visitors’ tour. They were invited to sniff the spices, to feel the skins and cloths, to test the blades of the daggers with their thumbs, which they also dipped in the olive oil, and then they were asked to taste the dried figs and dates and carobs and raisins, and to conclude with a pinch of white salt, which was also wrapped for them in a fine paper as a gift.
It was only when they climbed back up on deck and looked around to see if there was anything left to examine on this wonderful ship that they peered cautiously at the two women, who hurriedly veiled their faces to hide their blushing smiles. The lord bowed deeply, while the Jewish merchant, unable to contain himself, asked the rabbi, who served as translator from Arabic to the mixture of Latin and Frankish of the men of Rouen, to invite the visitors to examine the rest of his fabrics, from which the women’s dresses were made. But the lord happened to be more impressed by the women themselves than by what they were clothed in, and so the invitation to do business was politely declined on the grounds that they had shortly to attend mass, and instead Rabbi Elbaz was asked to write on a parchment the names of all the travelers and the animals and their personal relationship to one another.
Only after the lord had left the ship, not before insisting cordially but firmly that the travelers should honor them by visiting the city and its churches, did Elbaz whisper to Ben Attar that he had taken it upon himself to inscribe the second wife as the sister of the first, to prevent unnecessary gossip among the Christians, whom the approaching millennium was infecting with excessive piety. At first Ben Attar was shocked. Was this not a retreat or even a betrayal of the principle in whose name the whole expedition had been conceived? But once he had grasped the rabbi’s considered caution, he said to himself that there was no reason to despair of him. Even if the sea had changed him into a poet, the dry land would restore his senses.
And so, their personal and religious status having been especially adapted to the purpose of visiting the infidel town and particularly of participating in the mass of an alien faith, twelve travelers disembarked, leaving only a single sailor with Abu Lutfi to guard the ship. To protect the Jews, Abd el-Shafi insisted on accompanying them ashore, and indeed on reinforcing their disguise by adding four of his crew. They also decided to take the young slave with them, lest he escape during their absence to the shore that he so longed for. They stripped him of his tatters and clothed him in a white robe, which emphasized the blackness of his face and his hands and feet.
After so many wave-tossed days, the voyagers’ minds were dizzied somewhat by the solidity of the cobbles they walked on, and so they tended to huddle together at first, if only to allay the terror caused by the sound of the bells, which from a distance, on board ship, had seemed soothing and kindly, but here, among the narrow streets of Rouen, shook the gray air with an insistent menace. Indeed, the streets of Rouen were narrow and winding, and the houses seemed miserable and small to the North Africans, who wondered not only at the unpainted and unplastered gray stone but also at the absence of flowerbeds and ornamental trees. Only occasionally did they halt to feast their eyes on a thick blackened beam that reinforced and adorned the small doorway of a mean house.
Since most of the folk of Rouen were at the mass, the travelers soon lost their way in the empty streets, but a local lad, who at first stood rooted to the spot at the sight of the visitors, bestirred himself and ran to announce their arrival. At once a pair of monks came to meet them and addressed them cordially in clear Latin phrases. It was for the glory and joy of Christ that the honored unbelievers should take part in their worship, they announced to the newcomers, opening for them the heavy great door of the cathedral.
By comparison with the spacious mosques that the visitors were familiar with in North Africa and Andalus, their soft couches and the blue arabesques that adorned their walls, the cathedral of Rouen seemed cramped and sad in its dark severity, and it had a sweet-sour smell blended of incense and sweat, for even on this summer day the congregation was dressed in heavy, dark clothes. The two women had a moment of revulsion as they entered, but it was already too late, all eyes were upon them, and the service was interrupted to allow a ripple of astonishment to spread down the rows of worshippers, as the women’s softly billowing robes and the men’s baggy trousers passed through their ranks. The sight of the black pagan in his hooded coat and the brightly colored oriental silks made it seem as though the mythological figures painted on the walls of the church had descended and come to life in their midst.