And women loved Chiaro; for, in despite of the
burthen of study, he was well-favoured and very manly in his walking;
and, seeing his face in front, there was a glory upon it, as upon the
face of one who feels a light round his hair.
So he put thought from him, and partook of his life. But, one night,
being in a certain company of ladies, a gentleman that was there with
him began to speak of the paintings of a youth named Bonaventura,
which he had seen in Lucca; adding that Giunta Pisano might now look
for a rival. When Chiaro heard this, the lamps shook before him, and
the music beat in his ears and made him giddy. He rose up, alleging a
sudden sickness, and went out of that house with his teeth set.
He now took to work diligently; not returning to Arezzo, but
remaining in Pisa, that no day more might be lost; only living
entirely to himself. Sometimes, after nightfall, he would walk abroad
in the most solitary places he could find; hardly feeling the ground
under him, because of the thoughts of the day which held him in
fever.
The lodging he had chosen was in a house that looked upon gardens
fast by the Church of San Rocco. During the offices, as he sat at
work, he could hear the music of the organ and the long murmur that
the chanting left; and if his window were open, sometimes, at those
parts of the mass where there is silence throughout the church, his
ear caught faintly the single voice of the priest.
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