Nor had he forgiven himself.
Samuel, on the other hand, had enjoyed great success. Since that time, he’d become the official doctor of Bamberg and, on occasion, had even attended the prince-bishop in letting his blood. The two former students corresponded from time to time, and Samuel, who was still single, always inquired about Simon’s family. So Simon was excited when they received the invitation to visit Bamberg. He wanted to finally see his old friend Samuel again, and he hoped to hear about recent advances in medicine that might be useful to him in Schongau.
Besides, Simon enjoyed-more than he wanted to admit to himself-wandering by himself through the little alleyways of Bamberg. He loved his two boys, but they could be incredibly tiring-especially Paul, a little hellion who tended to break out in temper tantrums. Simon hadn’t said when he would be back, so he was free to enjoy these precious moments visiting the many churches and chapels, buying a package of his beloved coffee beans in the spice market (despite the outrageous cost), and shopping for clothing fabric.
As Simon strolled past St. Martin’s Church, he saw a young girl standing by the church portal. Her hair had been shorn; she wore braids of straw and held a wooden tablet informing passersby that she’d had a casual affair with a young man prior to marriage. Some of those passing by spat on the ground in front of the girl, while others regarded her with pity. Simon’s face darkened; he couldn’t help thinking about how he and Magdalena had also been exposed to mockery and hatred in Schongau, before they’d finally been permitted to marry.
It’s always the same. Bathhouse owners, amateur doctors, and hangman’s children. . we’ll always be shunned as dishonorable, all our lives. Probably even in the sophisticated city of Paris they’d be singing lewd songs, making fun of us.
After stopping several times to get directions, Simon finally stood in front of the Burgher’s Enclave, adjacent to the distinguished Jesuit college, near the Hay Market. Several buildings surrounded an elegant interior courtyard full of flowers and fruit trees. Simon had learned that the head city clerk and the city physician were housed there. Gazing on the freshly roofed buildings, carefully pruned apple trees, and meticulously clean yard, he couldn’t help but think of his own wretched bathhouse back home.
Perhaps Father was right, after all. I’m just a miserable failure.
Then he thought of Magdalena, the boys, and all the exciting things that had happened since then, and his gloom evaporated.
Excitedly Simon knocked on the door that he had been directed to, and waited. After a while he heard footsteps, and an elderly woman-presumably Samuel’s housekeeper-opened the door. She was haggard, severe looking, unusually tall for a woman, and had her hair tied in a tightly wound bun. She cast a disapproving glance down at the short bathhouse owner in his rumpled clothing.
“The doctor is not in,” the haggard old woman snarled. “If you have an ailment that needs tending, come back tomorrow.” She scowled. “On Friday mornings, Master Samuel treats common people.”
Simon choked back the nasty reply on the tip of his tongue. “I’m an old friend of his,” he said instead, smiling. “Where could I see him now?”
The housekeeper pursed her lips. “People like you wouldn’t be admitted there. Herr Doktor is over at Geyerswörth Castle with His Holiness the bishop. One of his”-she hesitated-“uh, chambermaids has a woman’s ailment that only Master Samuel is able to cure. But that’s no business of yours.”
“Aha, a chambermaid. I’ll wager she’s a bit younger, prettier, and, no doubt, more affectionate than your average chambermaid. Well, in any case, good day to you.”
While the housekeeper was still frowning and trying to figure out the meaning of what he’d just said, Simon had already turned away and left the Burgher’s Enclave. As it always did when someone alluded to his low social standing, a barely controllable rage rose up in him. Once again he swore to himself that his children and grandchildren would someday be better off than their father, who, despite all his talent, had made it no further in life than the post of a dishonorable bathhouse owner in a backwater town. Would things have turned out differently if he’d completed his studies in Ingolstadt? Would he, too, have become the personal physician of a duke or bishop?
Simon was still seething as he turned into a small lane leading to the hangman’s house, along the city moat. Then, on the spur of the moment, he decided to give it a try, after all, and go to Geyerswörth Castle to look for Samuel. There was no reason for the old woman to have turned him away so rudely; his clothing, though a bit rumpled, was still quite appropriate. His petticoat breeches and smart feathered hat had cost him a fortune. Simon attached great importance to his appearance, trying to make up for his small stature.
At the next corner he inquired about the way to the castle and was directed toward the left branch of the Regnitz. Soon he could make out, a bit upstream and not far from the city hall, a long island on whose northern half stood a magnificent building decorated with oriels and turrets. Stained-glass and lead-lined crown-glass windows reflected the light of the afternoon sun. It looked like a slightly smaller version of a royal hunting lodge. Suddenly, Simon was no longer so sure he should ask to see his friend Samuel in this splendid building.
Summoning up his courage, however, he strode across the bridge to a large doorway with two oaken wings, where the bishop’s guards stood on duty. Along the way he’d straightened his clothing a bit, and the soldiers who looked him up and down were not hostile toward him.
“Is the city physician available?” Simon asked, trying to sound both blasé and accustomed to giving orders.
One of the guards frowned. “He’s inside with one of the girls. Why do you ask?”
“Well, uh. . he forgot his package of Bengali fire beans.” Impulsively, Simon held up the small purse of coffee beans he’d just bought. “Without these, the patient’s treatment will probably be ineffective. I need to take them to the doctor right away.”
“Bengali fire. . what?” The guard’s forehead creased. “Do you think that will help cure the girl’s accursed French disease?”
Simon smiled inwardly. Now he at least knew what the bishop’s so-called maid was suffering from. The French disease, also known as syphilis, was a contagious and extremely dangerous sexual infection, often leading to madness and eventually death. It was especially feared in the royal courts, as there was practically no cure. The bathhouse owner shook the bag so that the beans rattled inside.
“A cure is possible only with the use of Bengali fire beans,” he announced solemnly. “They come directly from the West Indian Islands, and the prince-bishop paid a fortune for them. They’re effective for only one hour, and after that they start going bad.”
“For heaven’s sake!” It was clear from the look on the guard’s face that he was imagining what was in store for him if the bishop had any reason to complain. “Then get yourself in right away. The Jew must have forgotten to bring his medicine,” he grumbled softly, but Simon had already slipped by him and entered the shaded inner court of the palace. He could feel the suspicious gazes of the other guards like arrows in his back, so he hurried along, his head held high, toward a stone archway that appeared to lead to the back of the castle.
As soon as he’d passed through the arch, he stopped, overwhelmed by the sight in front of him. Before him lay a large park, with lines of green hedges bounded by two branches of a river. Some bushes were shaped in the form of animals, others stood in waving rows, and still others had leafy tops. Between the rows there were beds of all kinds of roses, many of which had faded. In the middle of the park stood a fountain with graceful statues; holy water sprayed from the antlers of a bronze stag. Colorful, exotic birds chirped in a nearby aviary, and next to it was a gleaming hothouse containing dark-green lemon trees. After all the filth and stench outside in the alleyways, this scene seemed so bizarre that Simon almost thought he was dreaming. A loud voice calling his name finally brought him back to the present.