The poem

He was there, again.

"Sorry, I shouldn't come here" he said, taking back the hood on his shoulders.

"No you didn't, my mistress said you should stay at the palace. Plus, she's out"

"I know she's out, i'm here for you"

Great. It was worse than usual.

"I accept Madama Joanna doesn't need a man, but the problem is... I can't go on with the poem"

I put water on the fire and prepared two doses of valerian infusion. "I'm just the apprentice, messer Ariosto. The apprentice of a mechanic. I know nothing about poetry... and about your poem... well, Madama Joanna read it, I can ensure you... all the pages you brought here"

His eyes started shining. "She read it? What does she think of it?"

"She was a bit upset about Orlando's rage"

"Why?"

"Too many dead horses"

"Dead horses? What's the problem with horses?"

"Madama Joanna likes animals"

 Lodovico Ariosto scratched his head hard, like he was looking for a lever to turn off his thoughts. "Well... he will remain mad if I can't go on writing. And when I... try... the image of madama Joanna comes in front of me!"

The infusions were ready, i brought a cup to Ariosto. He bended over it like he wanted to drown himself in it.

"Listen, maestro" It's difficult to be trusted when you're just 15 and you're talking with a grown up man. Whining. "Madama Joanna is a mechanic. We both know that it's wildly bizarre, but she loves that and, unfortunately, she thinks just about that. You are not... wrong... it's just... she is what she is"

"Then... I will just stop writing... my master will probably kill me... and that's all"

I was truly sorry for that poor, crazy man so I had to give him something. Hope? Illusion? As I said, I was only the mechanic's apprentice. "You shouldn't. That's a really bad idea"

"Why are you saying that?"

"I'v been with madama Joanna for a year. Any time I saw her reading something, it was something of scientific. Except when your poem arrived. Your poem is the only piece of art that got my mistress's attention. Ever."

Ariosto sipped the last drops of infusion, deep thinking. "The only piece of art..."

"Ever"

He jumped on his feet, like infusion gave him supernatural energy "YES! Art! Art is the way! Art is always the way! Thanks, boy! Thanks very much!" He put the hood back on and went out. 

My mistress went back home an hour later.

"Something happened, my friend?" she asked.

"Nothing, madama Joanna"

Usually, when she come back from walking, she is eager to work so I followed her to the laboratory wheew she grabbed few tools and started bending iron bars.

After few moments I noticed that her lips were moving, but she wasn't speaking to me. I came closer.

"Le donne, i cavalieri, le armi, gli amori

le straordinarie imprese io canto

del tempo che furo che passaro i mori d'Africa il mare

e in Francia nocuer tanto"

I was sure I heard that.

"Excuse me, mistress, are you... reciting poems?"

She blushed. "Obviously not, my dear" and she went on working.