Paul dropped his hand below the table and quickly but gently squeezed Julia’s arm at the elbow. His touch distracted her so she looked at him, and he shook his head, his eyes flickering to the front of the room and back to her.
She seemed to be awakened from her reverie. “Of course, Professor.
Another time.” For good measure, she averted her eyes and waited without expression for the class to begin.
Gabriel’s mind was racing. If he couldn’t speak with her today, he would have to go days and perhaps weeks without explaining. He couldn’t wait that long. Their separation was eating away at him. The longer he waited, the less receptive she was going to be to his explanation. He had to do something.
He had to find some way of communicating with her. Immediately.
“Um, I’ve decided that rather than have a normal seminar today, I will deliver a lecture. I’ll be examining the relationship between Dante and Beatrice. In particular, what transpired when Dante met Beatrice the second time and she rejected him.”
Julia stifled a gasp and looked up at him in horror.
“I’m sorry to have to do this,” his voice took on a conciliatory tone,
“but I was left with no other choice. A misunderstanding has emerged that must be dealt with before it’s too late.” His eyes met hers for mere seconds, and he lowered his gaze to his notes. Of course, his notes were of no use for this particular lecture.
Julia’s heart raced. Oh, no. He wouldn’t….
Gabriel inhaled deeply and began. “Beatrice represents many things for Dante. Most importantly, an ideal of womanhood and femininity. Beatrice is beautiful. She’s intelligent and charming. She has all of the character qualities Dante believes are essential to the ideal woman.
“He first encounters her when they are both very young, too young for any kind of relationship. Rather than sully their love with any kind of pedestrian or tawdry entanglement, he chooses to adore her reverently but distantly, in deference to her age and experience.
“Time passes. He meets Beatrice again. She has matured into a talented young lady; she is even more gifted and beautiful. Now his feelings for her are much stronger, even though he is married to someone else. He pours his affection into writing poetry and pens several sonnets for Beatrice, but none for his wife.
“Dante does not know Beatrice. He has little contact with her. Even so, he adores her from afar. After she dies at the age of twenty-four, he celebrates her in his writings.
“In The Divine Comedy, Dante’s most famous work, Beatrice helps to persuade Virgil to guide Dante through Hell because she, as one of the redeemed in Paradise, is unable to descend into Hell to rescue him. Once Virgil sees Dante safely through Hell, she joins him and guides him through Purgatory and into Paradise.
“In my lecture today, I wish to pose the following question: where was Beatrice and what was she doing in between her two meetings with Dante?
“He waited for her for years. She knew where he lived. She knew his family; she was friendly, very friendly, with them. If she cared about him, why didn’t she write to him? Why did she make no attempt to contact him? I think the answer is obvious: their relationship was entirely one-sided. Dante cared for Beatrice, but Beatrice cared nothing for Dante.”
Julia almost fell off her chair.
All of the graduate students were following his lecture diligently and taking copious notes, although Paul, Julia, and Christa, who were familiar with Dante, found precious little that was new in his lecture. With the exception of the last full paragraph, which had nothing whatsoever to do with Dante Alighieri and Beatrice Portinari, at all.
Gabriel’s eyes wandered to Julia’s and lingered there almost a beat too long, before he turned to Christa, smiling flirtatiously. Julia fumed. He was doing that on purpose — purposefully looking at her and then focusing all of his attention on Christa-the-Gollum, just so she could see how easily she would be replaced.
Fine. If he wants to play the jealousy game, bring it.
Julia began to tap her notebook with her pen just loud enough to be distracting. When Gabriel’s narrowed eyes darted around to look for the noise and landed on her left hand, she slid her right hand closer to Paul and gave his hand a squeeze. He looked over at her with a heart-melting smile, and she gazed up into his eyes through her eyelashes. She parted her lips, exposing her teeth, and gave Paul the loveliest, sweetest smile she could muster.
A half-groan, half-cough from the front of the room caused Paul to rip his eyes away from her and stare straight at the very angry face of Professor Emerson. Paul withdrew his hand from Julia’s immediately.
Smirking now, and still continuing his lecture without fumbling a word, Gabriel began to write on the board. More than one graduate student reacted in shock when they saw what he had written: In real life, Beatrice was only too happy to leave Dante in Hell because she couldn’t be bothered to keep her promise.
Julia was the last person to look up because she was still huffing about what had just happened. By the time she saw the board, Gabriel was leaning his back against it with his arms folded and a very smug expression on his face. Julia determined then and there that even if he had her expelled, that smug expression was going to be wiped off his face. Immediately.
She put her hand up and waited until he called on her. “That’s really arrogant and self-serving, Professor.”
Paul tightened his fingers on her arm, slightly tugging at her. “Are you crazy?” he whispered.
Julia ignored him and continued. “Why blame Beatrice? She’s the victim in all of this. Dante met her when she was under eighteen. It wasn’t possible for them to be together, unless he’s a pedophile. Are you telling us that Dante is a pedophile, Professor?”
One of the female students gasped.
Gabriel scowled. “Of course not! He has true affection for her, and this affection is undiminished even during their separation. If she had ever had the courage to ask him, he would have told her that. Unequivocally.”
Julia moved her head to one side and narrowed her eyes. “That’s a bit difficult to believe. Everything in Dante’s later life seems to revolve around sex. He can’t relate to women in any other way. And he’s certainly not sitting at home alone on Friday and Saturday nights waiting for Beatrice. So he must not have cared for her.”
Gabriel’s face grew very red, and he unfolded his arms, taking a step in her direction. Paul immediately put his hand up, trying to distract The Professor, but Gabriel ignored him and came a step closer.
“He is a man, after al , and needs…uh…companionship. And if it makes it any more palatable, those women were just helpful friends. Nothing more. His draw to Beatrice is undiminished. He simply despaired of waiting for her, since it was obvious that he was never going to see her again. And that’s her fault, not his.”
She smiled sweetly as she prepared her knife. “If that’s affection, I’ll take hatred. And just what were these friends so helpful with, Professor?
Hmmmm? They’re not friends — they’re pelvic affiliates. Wouldn’t a friend want the other person to have a good life? A happy life? And not be clawing after fleeting pleasure like a randy old sex addict?”
Julia saw Gabriel wince, but she ignored his reaction and plowed ahead. “It’s commonly known that Dante’s dalliances were anonymous and tawdry. He tended to pick up women at the meat market, I believe, and when he was finished, he simply threw them away. That doesn’t sound like someone who would appeal to Beatrice. Not to mention the fact that he has a mistress named Paulina.”
Immediately, ten pairs of eyes swung inquisitively to Julia. She flushed a deep red but continued, somewhat flustered. “I — I found something once by a woman from Philadelphia who unearthed evidence of their relationship. If Beatrice lacked affection for Dante and rejected him later in life, it was completely justified. Dante was a self-absorbed, cruel, and arrogant man-whore who treated women like toys for his own personal amusement.”
Now at this point, both Christa and Paul were wondering what in the holy hell had just happened to their Dante seminar, for neither of them knew anything about a female Dante expert from Philadelphia or a mistress named Paulina. They silently pledged to spend more time in the library from now on.
Gabriel glared at the back of the room. “I believe I’m somewhat familiar with the woman you’re talking about, but she isn’t from Philadelphia. She’s from some podunk village in rural Pennsylvania. And she doesn’t know what she’s talking about, so she should refrain from pronouncing judgment.”
Julia’s cheeks flamed. “That’s an ad hominem objection. Her place of origin doesn’t diminish her credibility. And Dante and his family were from a podunk village too. Not that Dante would ever admit it.”
Gabriel’s shoulders shook slightly as he tried to control himself. “I’d hardly call the Florence of the fourteenth century podunk. And with respect to the mistress, that’s just shoddy research. In fact, I’ll go further. That woman’s head is filled with nothing more than appalling rubbish, and she doesn’t have a shred of evidence for her conjectures.”
“I wouldn’t dismiss her evidence out of hand, Professor, unless you’re prepared to discuss it in detail. And you haven’t given us an argument, just an abusive attack,” she countered, arching an eyebrow at him and trembling slightly.