Gill, Katherine. Women and the Production of Religious Literature in the Vernacular 1300-1500 in Creative Women in Medieval and Early Modern Italy: A Religious and Artistic Renaissance 64-85

[Women and the Production of Religious Literature in the Vernacular 1300-1500]
Katherine Gill
Exchanging Words
Preaching and vernacular religious literature constitute a key site of literary innovation in the late Middle Ages. Sermons, original compositions in volgare, and vernacular translations also represent the principal vehicles for the exchange of religious ideas and the expression of religious attitudes. Preaching and translating were complementary enterprises. Not only did preaching often consist of extemporaneous translation of Latin texts to a non-Latin-speaking audience, but the success of this mediation created an appetite and hence a market for religious literature. This demand prompted translations, often quite free, of Latin devotional classics and saints' lives, texts that could then serve as matter for sermon composition or for private reading after the preacher's voice fell silent. The importance of preaching as a stimulus for translations and, consequently, the development of the vernacular as a literary language has been described by the literary historian Carlo Delcorno:
In the age of the Mendicants, preaching was transformed into a refined instrument of pedagogy, stimulating in the minds of listeners new horizons of expectations both on a religious and cultural plain. It is here that the feverish productivity of translators finds its full significance. The interrelatedness of translation and preaching illustrates the dynamic of revival, operating through the vertical transmission of (textual) content, which characterizes medieval culture.1
Here Delcorno, following Hans Robert Jauss, includes the audience's œhorizon of expectation” as an important element in the dynamic of literary innovation.2 We can place that image of the audience, expectant or [64] disinterested, both before and after the moment of a sermon's composition and delivery. For the horizons and interests of an audience are not simply created, by a preacher, translator, or author; they are also something with which a text's composer creates. These expectations can direct choices of subject, genre, style, and language. The audience can, therefore, play an important part in the genesis of a work, as well as in its public life.
Hence the social history of a text extends backward and forward from the moment of writing, embracing the initiatives of patrons, oral phases of gestation, intended audience, and actual audience response. Moreover, Volgarizazzione-at once translation, interpretation, and popularization-is among the most social of literary activities, the one most profoundly determined by interactions between translators and their audiences.3 This acknowledgment of the social dimensions of texts has encouraged literary historians to revise anachronistic notions of authorship or replace them with concepts such as œtextual communities” (highlighting the collective and colloquial dimensions of a work's gestation4 ) or œliterary institutions” (emphasizing the many stages, many interventions, many accommodations a literary work undergoes as it moves unstably toward its public life5 ). We have seen, then, a general shift of attention away from questions that privilege the role of an author, toward unnervingly expansive and more openended ones. "Where (in the broadest sense) does a work come from? How is it circulated? Who controls it?6
Urging a rigorous renunciation of modern notions about the ways written texts come into existence and how they function once they join their readers (or listeners) in a social life, literary theorists have provided a stimulus for new lines of questioning and research. If œthe historical life of a literary work is unthinkable without the active participation of its addressees,”7 we must now seek information that will enable us to envision how an audience did or might participate. If a full recognition of the collaborative nature of literary works requires that we see them in terms of multiple phases of production, with multiple hands and interests involved, we need to chart those phases, find those hands, and identify those interests. If translation is transaction, œil banco di cambio dello spirito,” what did each party give and gain?8
When we bring the expectation that audiences determine the genesis, the meanings, and the fortunes of texts to the subject of religious literature in the vernacular, our questions immediately begin to involve women. A proliferation of vernacular works written or translated for [65] women, commissioned or purchased by women, copied or illustrated by women can be documented to varying degrees in every region of late medieval Europe.9 Over fifty years ago Herbert Grundmann highlighted the relationships between women and mendicant friars as primary to the emergence of interest and initiative in developing religious prose, a development with strong impact on vernacular literature in general.10 In Italy, this vernacular impetus has been characterized as œun movimento . . . oceanico di traduzione,” markedly propelled by women's religious communities, ternaries, more or less informal groups of penitents, and confraternities.11 The prominence of women in the volgare market for religious books joins a high level of female literacy and a broad range of religious initiatives by women as factors that flag Italy as a promising site to test theories of premodern literary production and the female audience.12
Nevertheless, despite the acknowledged presence of women near the site of composition, in the audience, and in the manuscript traditions of the most popular examples of Italian vernacular literature, the significance of these coincidences remains, for the most part, unexplored.If the written text represents but one stage in a process, how are we to envision those other stages and the role of women in them? Much of the answer lies latent and diffuse, scattered in colophons, in dedicatory remarks, on flyleaves, in testaments and contracts, in account books, in old and modern inventories, in the footnotes to antiquarian studies of a single author, text, or institution. Thus the first task of this essay is to illustrate women at work in some of many dimensions of literary production and consumption.13 In order to bring women's more invisible roles into sharper focus, I will not here consider works incontestably attributed to female authors.14 Instead, I will look at what Jerome McGann would call the œliterary institution,” whose various elements (audiences, author/composers, translators, secretaries, scribes, editors, patrons, promoters, distributors, censors) shaped religious literature in the vernacular.15
These collective components of the œliterary institution” very often coincide with a variety of religious institutions, whose character is the second focus of this essay. I will look especially at women's religious life and at some traditional assumptions about that life that have blocked recognition of the possibility of female collaboration and agency. By relating contemporary religious practices and social arrangements to some of the most popular early Italian devotional texts, I hope to shed some light on motives animating both texts and collective religious life.16 Among my literary sources, the early fourteenth-century translation of the Vitae patrum by [66] Domenico Cavalca (d. 1342) and the Colloquio spirituale by Simone da Cascina receive special attention.
Production and Distribution
I begin with the most material aspect of manuscript and book production: scribal activities and commercial exchange. The surviving account books and chronicles from a number of fifteenth-century women's religious communities show their members acting as scribes, illustrators, and distributors of manuscripts. In addition to executing various stages of production themselves, they also arranged for and paid others to carry out different steps. A fifteenth-century register of entrate e uscite from the Perugian Franciscan convent of Monteluce, notes payments received from abbesses, uncloistered religious women (designated as bisoche or pinzocbere),17 secular persons of both genders, and friars acting as agents for at least one other conventual scriptorium, Santa Lucia in nearby Foligno.18 A diverse central Italian clientele acquired breviaries, books of hours, and antiphons executed by various nuns at Monteluce. Members of this Perugian convent, which numbered seventy-odd women in the mid-fifteenth century, also copied and disseminated biographies and writings by Franciscan holy women, notably Angela of Foligno, Catherine of Bologna, and Eustochia of Messina. In addition, the nuns contracted out certain stages of production-binding to a nearby monastery of Franciscan friars at Monteripidio, illustration to lay miniaturists. Finally, we learn from the account books that Monteluce was, unsurprisingly, an avid consumer of manuscripts (and later printed books), purchasing them from friars, monks, and laypersons, keeping them to copy, designating them for the use of the community, or selling them again to others. At Monteluce in Perugia, as with a conspicuous number of fifteenth-century Clarissan monasteries affiliated with the Observant reform movement, writing and commissioning literary works accompanied this busy production and consumption of manuscripts and books.19
The complex interrelations that characterized the production of manuscript versions of devotional texts emerge even more clearly when we turn to the account books of a community that ran one of the first printing presses in Italy, San Jacopo di Ripoli in Florence, a convent that began as an association of recluses.20 Their entrate e uscite from the 1470s throw into relief the participation of many parties in the process of book production. [67]
The capital to acquire type matrices came from a generous lay woman, a loan from the prioress, and the gift of a bushel of flour from a Sister Costanza.Sisters were paid as compositors and, together with traveling preachers, laypersons, and street hawkers, acted as œmiddle persons” in the sale and distribution of their books.Payments record transactions with Italian and foreign illuminators, of both secular and clerical status. In a manner analogous to the arrangements of the nuns at Monteluce in Perugia, the sisters of San Jacopo worked in partnership with a nearby community of friars (San Marco) and responded to a œvulgar” market that included other nuns, pinzochere, monks, and laypersons.For example, they produced 1,300 copies of a Libro da compagnia ovvero fraternita dei Battuti, sold 1,000 Lives of Saint Margaret to a street singer, and supplied a diverse public with a constant stream of penitential psalms in both Latin and the vernacular.21
In its industriousness San Jacopo was not unique. The women of Corpus Domini, Catherine de Vegri's convent in Bologna, immediately availed themselves of the first printing press that came to town (in 1470) to publish the first in series of editions of Catherine's Le sette armi spirituali, making it a fifteenth-century best-seller.22 The extremely elegant breviary copied and illuminated in 1453 by Maria Ormani (leaving us her portrait on f. 89), makes clear that whatever community she belonged to fostered a high level of skill and learning.23 The Paradiso and Santa Caterina al Monte (alias San Gaggio) were likewise literary centers in the fifteenth century, Santa Caterina was so in the fourteenth as well.24 Moreover, the provenance of a number of fourteenth-century manuscripts indicate that, at least for Monteluce and San Jacopo, the fifteenth-century interest in texts was an amplified extension of earlier traditions.25 In 1600 the Index of Prohibited Books produced lists of books owned by monastic women which demonstrate that Monteluce, Santa Lucia, and Sant'Anna did not quickly lose their literary character.26
The account books of women's religious communities are, of course, just one type of source displaying the transfer of manuscripts and books to and from women. Testaments and inventories of monastic libraries and confraternities, some of which loaned out manuscripts, supplement the evidence of the account books.27 In 1435 Fra Augustino, the bishop of Gonessa and a prominent member of the Augustinian Order, left all his books to his sister Maria. In 1439 Jacobella de Tostis, the member of a Roman magnate clan and also of a group of pinzochere, gave a house which [68] was to be sold to buy a breviary worth one hundred florins; the breviary, together with two other prayer books, were designated for the use of members of her penitent community.28
Three testaments connected to Santa Lucia in Foligno are particularly revealing. In 1447, near the end of her life, having left her miserable twenty-year marriage with Galeazzo di Maletesta, Lord of Pesaro, for the religious regimen of Santa Lucia in Foligno, Battista da Montefeltro drew up a testament in which she charged her granddaughter Constantia, wife of Duke Alexander Sforza, with the transfer of her œlibrictum sermonum Iacobi de Vorragine, factum ad reverentiam gloriose virginis Marie” to Dominican friars in Foligno. In addition, Battista, now Sister Girolama, left her copy of Saint Jerome's letters to the Observant Franciscans in Pesaro. The rest of her private library went to Santa Lucia.29 Not long before Girolama made her bequests, the erudite nineteen-year-old daughter of a Perugian jurist, Elena Coppoli, had fled her unconsummated marriage and turned over all her possessions (which certainly included books) to Santa Lucia, where she took the religious name Cecilia. Sister Cecilia's mother, entering Santa Lucia about five years later, sacrificed one of her breviaries to her deceased husband's illegitimate son, a friar, before following in her daughter's footsteps.30
A healthy presence of aristocratic patronage assisted the volume and velocity of production and acquisition at Monteluce, Santa Lucia, and Sant'Anna (known since the fourteenth century, and despite its lay status, as lu munisterio delle Contesse). Alliance with the ascendant Observant Franciscans added, at least initially, to their range of patronal channels and connected these Umbrian communities with a network of newly created or newly revived monasteries throughout Italy.31 But testaments and other forms of legal documentation confirm similar patterns of interest and exchange through a wide social spectrum.32 In the 1363 testament of Bernardo Guidonis of Assisi we perceive the hope that his concubine is not pregnant and that his daughter Nina will remember his soul as she uses the psalter he leaves her.33 In 1448, Margarita œdomini Honofrii de Perusio,” the ministra (administrative head) of a thriving but nonaristocratic penitent community in Perugia, San Antonio de Padua (œvulgariter nuncupati et monasterio de le poverelle da Fuligne”), (œcommonly called the monastery of the poor sisters of Foligno”), in her eagerness to acquire manuscripts, had the misfortune to buy a missal and breviary recently stolen from the sacristy of San Rufino in Assisi.34 About the same time in [69] Florence, a former prostitute was compelled to give her book of hours to her pimp, a compromise arranged by the city priors, in order to gain the freedom to enter a women's community.35
Literary and Devotional Salons
Almost all the Italian vernacular authors and translators had some sort of close connection with religious women.36 Thus one finds with new texts, as with new saints in this period, that when you scratch one you find immediately a community, or a nexus of communities. Such is the case with three related Florentine communities: Santa Catherina al Monte, often called San Gaggio (or, colloquially, Cajo) in Florence, together with two communities founded by and for former courtesans, prostitutes, and, I suspect, clerical concubines.37 All three trace their origins back to the sermons and the organizational support of Simone Fidan of Cascia (d. 1348), an itinerant Augustinian preacher, translator, and author of religious texts.38 To the milieu of these communities we owe a number of important texts and translations. These include those authored by Simone himself: Ordine della Vita Cristiana (1333), the Latin De Gestis Domini Salvatoris (a Gospel paraphrase), and a number of letters;39 a translation of the De Gestis by Simone's literary and pastoral protªgª, Giovanni da Salerno; a Regola attributed to Saint Augustine, framed by Giovanni for convertite;40and Giovanni's translation of an Esposizione della Regola del San Agostino from a Latin version attributed to Hugh of Saint Victor. Simone also composed a Regola o Dottrina ad una Figliuola Spirituale, addressed to a woman in Rome. The women of San Gaggio managed to acquire the most important codices of Giordano da Pisa's Quaresimale as well as good copies of the works of other preachers and translators throughout the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. In the last quarter of the fifteenth century, Domencio Scarperia, hermit at the monastery of Santo Spinto in Florence, translated the Sermones of St. Bernard, as well as a large collection of Pseudo-Augustinian works for the San Gaggio community.41
Simone Fidati composed his Latin De Gestis at the request of Tommaso Corsim, a prominent Florentine who renounced an immense fortune to live out his days in a small house adjacent to San Gaggio. This community was founded-about a decade after the establishment of the convertite houses in 1344-by Monna Nera, a young widow of the notable [70] Manieri clan, with the support of Simone and additional funding by Corsini.42 While Tommaso lived, his service efforts on behalf of the community were so marked that Santa Caterna/San Gaggio earned the further soubriquette of œle donne di messer Tommaso.”When Monna Nera died (1376), Tommaso's wife, Monna Ghita, took over the leadership of the community. A confraternity associated with the church of Santo Spirito, an institution important for both Dante and Boccaccio, also sponsored San Gaggio. The confraternity of Santa Maria Novella (Dominican) and of Orsanmichele (a lay oratory) were also involved at various times in the maintenance and legal representation of San Gaggio and Santa Elisabetta, as well as other women's groups.
Monna Nera's community and the convertite houses, like the texts they requested, received, or conserved, were born of friendship and a sense of partnership shared by diverse individuals and groups. Acknowledging an otherwise unknown Florentine woman in the prologue to his Arbor vitae crucifixe Jesu, Ubertino da Casale wrote:
She [Cecilia] taught me the whole process of the highest contemplation of the life of Jesus and the hidden things in my heart and many other things as well.43

Even though the texts themselves repeatedly signal reciprocity in the writer's relationship to an immediate audience, we tend to forget the alliances between institutional and literary history.

Remembering your request, I have tried, my sister, to write for you this Ammonizione, as you have asked ... because I know your mind's passion for divine scripture and that you try to live according to what you read. [I know that] I do not profit from doing what your charity has taken care to ask; but if through this work you advance in divine love, and then I will have a part of your profit.44
To establish the contribution of women to the contents of religious texts, even those addressed directly to them, is more difficult than the task of documenting their ownership of manuscripts or their role as scribes and typesetters. We have to probe a variety of sources to begin to imagine their inclusion in the authorial role (what Foucault would call the authorfunction) or to identify points at which female intervention might have shaped the ideas transmitted by sermons, translations, or new literary [71] compositions. Looking first at the work of preachers, we find that chance indications do survive. In fact, exempla and sermons appear to have been quite permeable to women's voices and interests. The notes of a thirteenth-century preacher reveal that his conversations with Parisian Beguines shaped the sermons he addressed to them.45 Gli Assempri of the Sienese Augustinian prior Filippo degli Agazzari (d. circa 1422) cites women as sources for some of his edifying true stories, signing off with footnotes like œle sopra dete cose udi da due antiche e venerabigli donne”. (œI heard these things from two old and venerable ladies”).46 A letter of March 1496 shows how Caterina Rucellai prevailed on a friar of San Marco, to have Girolamo Savonarola retract a proposal he made during the course of a sermon.47 Likewise, Savonarola's own letters indicate the powerful effect the censorship of a Pisan abbess had on him.48 In the case of Giordano da Pisa (d. 1311) we have strong circumstantial evidence in the knowledge that a number of his vernacular Lenten sermons were delivered immediately after he had dined with members of women's religious communities; that the most important manuscript edition of Giordano's sermons was owned by the female community of Santa Caterina al Monte; that other copies of his sermons were owned and copied by women; and that his preaching was supported with at least one woman's testamentary bequest.49
For most literary historians, this kind of evidence has remained merely circumstantial. In fact, faced with the ubiquitousness of religious women in the manuscript traditions and even in the rubrics of sermon collections, Delcorno concludes that religious women were among the first to copy the reportationes, or notes, taken from sermons, because their isolated enclosure excluded them from the preacher's publics.50 Moreover, while he insists that the merchants, artisans, and bankers who recorded Giordano's sermons œwere not passive secretaries,” but œintervened in the transmission process, shortening, amplifying and commenting on the sermon heard”,51 he grants religious women only the role of readers and conservators of manuscripts. Delcorno's occlusion of religious women from the most active sites of exchange derives from a somber projection of post-Tridentine ideals onto Trecento women's communities and a forgetfulness of the frequency of preaching, teaching, and discussion within women's communities. With such a view, it is difficult to imagine religious women as the manuscript producers (in the sense that a movie is produced) that we know they were; and it is even harder to begin to imagine collaborative authorship.[72]
The City a Desert
It should be clear by now that the activities already described took place in a field in which religious women were not tightly segregated from religious men or lay society. Following the movement of women through the movement of books, we have glimpsed the variety of communities and relationships that could express an individual's religious identity. œSo you would have liked to have entered a religious community,” wrote Simone Fidati in his Regola ovvero dottrina a una sua figliuola spirituale, addressed to a woman in Rome, œbut things did not work out that way, at least not with a habit and entrance into a monastery.” 52 Things did not work out that way for many women in the later Middle Ages. Others did not desire a religious vocation until later in life. Moreover, many who elected a religious life did not choose a cloistered or strictly regulated context. Religious culture in Due- and Trecento Italy was deeply marked by what historians today term the œpenitential movement,” a set of attitudes and a cultural disposition favoring experimentation, dramatic conversions, and quiet ad hoc arrangements.53 Hermits gathered in the grottos above the hilltown; clusters of recluses settled at the city gates; permanent clerical and clairvoyant guests resided in the affluent household; pilgrims journeyed in search of new beginnings; charismatic itinerant preachers, often recent converts, dramatically disconnected their listeners from material and familial ties.
I would like now to look closely at one work of translation, one closely tied to preaching imperatives, and to explore what might be called its œsocial history.” A translation of œlives and sayings of desert fathers” was executed by Domenico Cavalca together with a team of collaborators at the Dominican monastery of Santa Caterina at Pisa during the early decades of the fourteenth century.54 These consisted of rather free translations of Latin texts, most of which had been culled in turn from Greek collections memorializing figures associated with eremitic and communal experiments of the third and fourth centuries.55 The title œLives of the Holy Fathers” (Vite dei santi padri) is rather misleading, for on almost every page we find famous and forgotten holy women: Mary Magdalene, the elder and younger Melania, female hermits, women's communities, converted prostitutes, as well as sisters, sponsors, and clients of the masculine desert œfathers.”56 Cavalca's translation (or better, version) of the Life of the Magdalene illustrates well the tone and spirit of the works emanating from Santa Caterina in this period.57 [73]
Citing Jerome as his source, Cavalca begins his version by informing his audience that the Magdalene had been betrothed to John the Evangelist, who then jilted her on their wedding night in order to withdraw to the desert. Their wedding, he continues, was the very marriage at Cana where Jesus turned the water into wine. The Gospel writers frequently omit details like this, explains the narrator, because, as here, everyone would have known who the bride and groom were. Furthermore œthey had too much to write to include everything, so we have to fill in the gaps. In any case,” he adds genially, œI like to think this is how it happened.” Mary, very much in love with John, was utterly distraught after her abandonment. In dishonor she returned to confinement in her family's house, confused and stunned because œthe man to whom she had given all her love had given himself to a love she herself did not yet understand.” (œI bring this up,” intervenes the narrator, œbecause worldly people have too much blamed Mary for the bad life she lived for a short time.”) Mary Magdalene had œtoo much spirit” to stay cooped up at home. So she spent her days socializing, in order to ease her desperation and œto keep herself from dying of inner pain.”The narrator explains that this is how the Magdalene acquired the reputation as a loose woman and came to be called a prostitute, which is the way people in those old-fashioned times referred to women who were too socially visible. It was rather an undiscriminating way of talking, the narrator admits, œbut that's how they were back then. I have often thought that the unrestrained behavior of many women today would make them seem worse than prostitutes to the ancients.”
This excerpt, abridged and paraphrased from the Life of the Magdalene, illustrates how colloquial Cavalca's work can be, in both its language and its form. Here, more markedly than in almost any other Life, his audience is congenially present to him, as he makes himself and his views frankly available to the audience. œIo mi penso, che . . .” begins many a sentence. It is a strategy that imitates and enhances the twice-told quality of his core sources, the anecdotes and pithy aphorisms with which early monks and hermits remembered their heroes and advised their followers. Translation and interpretation are closely intertwined. He makes the adjustments which, in his view, textual lacunae and cultural difference demand. As with the well-known Le meditazioni sulla Vita di Gesu Cristo, remembering and imagining flow seamlessly together.58 Shifting his focus continually from the past to the present, from the indirect discourse of narrative to direct address, Cavalca weaves the storyteller and audience into a single perspective, regarding with edified charity the life of Mary Magdalene.[74]
Along with his literary activities, Cavalca was involved in the life of several women's religious communities. In 1299 he intervened on behalf of the convent of Sant'Anna al Renaio, on the southern outskirts of Pisa, so that it might be released from some of the constraints of strict enclosure. He was also confessor and troubleshooter for a Pisan women's confraternity, the Misericordia. By 1334 this confraternity had assumed a residential character, having settled into houses belonging to a Pisan merchant and adjacent to a chapel dedicated to Santa Viviana. Assisted by Cavalca, the women of the Misericordia merged in 1342 with a group of convertite, a term usually rendered œreformed prostitutes,” but, as in Cavalca's ancient world, so in his contemporary one many a life situation might reside behind the words meretrice, convertite, and their synonyms.59 After uniting, both groups embraced a more formal modus vivendi. The combined community was soon known as the nuns of Santa Marta. Numerous bequests in Cavalca's testament, directed to communities other than Sant'Anna, the Misericordia, and Santa Marta, indicate an extensive network of female clients, friends, and supporters. After Cavalca's death in 1342, religious women maintained a vigorous connection with his literary corpus. The provenances of the most reliable manuscript editions of his works, as with Giordano da Pisa, are communities of nuns and pinzochere.60
The character of Cavalca's female audience and clientele highlights something very important to our understanding of his audience and vernacular works. The religious women in his immediate circle were not predominantly cloistered nuns, but lay women or uncloistered religious women living privately or communally. Pisa in the late Due- and early Trecento was typical of many Tuscan and Umbrian towns in that it harbored a multitude of persons who sought to conduct a religious life outside traditional institutions: hermits, recluses, reformed prostitutes.61 The deregulated convent, the woman's confraternity, the merchant's housemade-monastery, these are consistent with the data from archives and saints' vitae in a period marked more by conversion than by profession.Moreover, fluidity and malleability were characteristic not only of the religious associations and institutions, but also of the itinera of many pursuing a religious vocation. This was particularly true for women. The spiritual itineraries of many Italian saints and beata convey these women in and out of diverse vocations and affiliations: laywoman, recluse, pilgrim, hospital worker, foundress, abbess, oblate, confraternity sister, and so on.62 For example, as a penitent, the former concubine Margaret of Cortona successively worked as a birthing assistant, founded a hospital, and lived as a recluse in a well-to-do woman's house. Stability of categories [75] was not a strong feature of women's religious life on either the individual or the institutional level. Cavalca's decision to translate stories and letters which reflect the unsettled, pre- or proto-monastic period of the early church was certainly to some extent informed by the extra-institutional character of religious aspiration and activity he observed around him.
In forging a sort of Winesburg Ohio set in a Tuscanized Egypt or Palestine, in renewing his Latin texts with downhome interjections and armchair cultural anthropology, Cavalca created not only a literary monument and new syllabus for vernacular readers, but also a refracted image of his own society. The attractive inclusiveness and entertaining eccentricities of the motley population we meet in his œshort stories of the desert”63 would have lent a legendary strength to the institutionally ambiguous position of his spiritual friends and professional charges. In this spirit, an anonymous successor knit together Cavalca's vernacular vite and detti (œsayings”), making a work meant to serve women living a religious life outside a monastery, dedicating it to Paula and Eustochium, and passing it off as a work of Saint Jerome. Cavalca's work would also have served others, who, like himself, were called on to teach or manage affairs for such precarious enterprises as houses for reformed prostitutes and uncloistered women. His translations offer a kind and venerable mirror to contemporary individual and collective efforts to sustain a monasticism without walls.64
However Cavalca's pastoral and literary interests might have intertwined, he gained a wide and varied audience. A widowed mother commissioned an edition of Vite œper consolatione dell'anima sua e secondariamente a chonsolazione delle sue figliuole.”65 Among the notations of borrowed wigs, beards, and hats in the record books of confraternities, whose sacristies often functioned as a cross between theatrical warehouses and lending libraries, we can find reminders like the following: œIo antonio di set Agniolo ebbe in presto il livero di vita patruum comen°ando da Santo Pavolo primo romito”.66 Moreover, the frequency with which Cavalca's translations of desert anecdotes and aphorisms appear in subsequent vernacular works, especially in exchanges between spiritual friends, suggests a complementary oral currency.67 Even before Cavalca translated the Vite, Dominican preachers of the Duecento had been making on-the-spot translations to serve as exempla in their sermons.68 The desert lives were, in fact, recommended reading for preachers in training.69 In a manner analogous to the use and transmission of exempla by preachers, the little stories popularized by Cavalca became a way in which men and women [76] talked to each other about the struggles and goals of spiritual life. Angela of Foligno quotes and paraphrases from the sayings of Evagrius translated in the Vite dei santi padri.70 The telegraphic form and colloquial style of the recently popularized ancient apothegmata also found imitators. For example, an admirer of a converso named Fra Silvestro framed his memorial to this saintly laybrother in the form of detti, each beginning, œHe was accustomed to say . . .”

The good old ancients gave themselves as breasts, for their contemporaries and for modern people; they have given themselves to be suckled, to be food, to sustain....

If someone wants to take up the religious life, give [the person] help, not advice.71
In his Reggimento e costumi di donna, the moralizing Francesco Barberino, who gives nothing but advice, writes disapprovingly that female converse profer their own detti, conducting themselves as œphilosophers or teachers”.72 He also observes, with his usual critical spin, that women will believe the words of a female recluse more often than they will believe a master in theology. Nevertheless, collections of detti circulated under the names of both Angela of Foligno and Clare of Montefalco. So too, the vite and canonization processes of female saints portray their subjects as counselors and conveyors of timely wisdom. Finally, more than a hundred years after Cavalca, the Franciscan charged with spiritual servicesincluding the acquisition of manuscripts, for the newly revived Perugian community of Monteluce-composed for the sisters his own detti. Among them we find the following authorization:
Speak in charity and you will speak theologically. One may understand the Scriptures without grammatica, namely by a certain light from God. Grammatica is nothing but a language.73
The case of Cavalca and his translation enterprise illustrates the interplay between audience and text both before and after the moment of writing. We can see in his translations a mirror of the social and religious situations of an audience and the provision of matter from which its members might gather sources for the construction of their own authority. This kind of interplay also occurs in texts giving evidence of men's use of women's words and stories. For example, women's stories did much to make the reputations of local saints, giving momentum to cult, backbone [77] to canonization process, and, ultimately, more matter for preaching. Women make up significant proportions of the witnesses giving testimony for the canonization processes of Clare of Montefalco, Nicol· of Tolentino, Bernardino of Siena, and Francesca of Rome. When, in composing liturgical offices for the recently canonized Bernardino and the recently translated Saint Monica, the curialist Mafeo Vegio drew primarily from female testimony.74 Additional evidence of vertical translation from the popular to the official is offered by some preachers, who, mixing contemporary œtrue stories” with edifying exempla taken from long-standing literary authorities, indicate female informants. The Assempri of the Sienese Augustinian, Filippo degli Agazzari, are an outstanding example of this practice.
In these oral and written exchanges, reciprocal acts of quotation, we can glimpse the creation of a shared religious culture. With detti, as with real life and legendary exempla, those who thought in the vernacular as well as those who thought in Latin could, together, raggionare, think about religious things-or argue about them. In the 1330s, in a public disputation staged to discredit him, the itinerant Dominican preacher Venturmo da Bergamo was presented with the question: Did the evil angel sin in the first instant of his creation? Venturino responded with the following anecdote from the popular Vitae patrum. A young monk read in the Epistle to the Hebrews that Melchizedek had no parents. He grew anxious, wanting to know the name of the priest's father, and took his worry to an old monk, who responded, œOne does not embrace the religious life to investigate vana et curiosa but what is valuable to ourselves and others.”75 Although he appears to have trumped the scholars here, Venturino's predicament and response suggest some of the tensions that fissured religious culture and plagued vernacular efforts, even in these most favorable centuries.
Grammatica Is Nothing but a Language
Several varieties of ambivalence organize the rhetoric of vernacular literature written for women as a genre. The two most sensitive issues were gender and language.76 Translation of religious writing, early associated with suspect religious groups, had been explicitly associated with women, and the friars' relationship to them, in 1242, when the Dominican General explicitly forbade translation in the context of cura monialium.77 At the beginning of the fourteenth century, a time when Latin loan words were rapidly enriching vulgar usage, the preacher Jacopo Passavanti appears [78] grammatically and intellectually frustrated as he complains about the difficulties of expressing religious ideas in the vernacular.78 Yet in Latin or in vernacular the preachers themselves show us the female audience and the unnervingly autonomous religious culture they desire to reach. Sermons irritably represent women busily engaged in private devotions performed before images or with rituals of holy water.79 Giordano da Pisa, only slightly older than Cavalca, mocks crazy men and women who withdraw into cells, seeking the desert, and bemoans the gravity of the offense when artisans and women discuss and interpret scripture-œespecially grave when these are women, because women are much farther from the Scripture and the letter than men.” Yet at the same time, he urges women to learn to read and acquire œbuoni libricciuoli.”80 Giordano, whose imagery is often rigidly hierarchical, borrowing the structures of PseudoDionysius, reserved special outrage for women who preached, even in the city that produced blessed Umilt· and copies of her sermons.81 Despite the best credentials, Giovanni da Salerno met with objections to the translations he made for the convertite of Santa Elisabetta: œThere are some people to whom it does not seem a good thing that I have done this, especially at the request of women.”82 Giovanni reminds his detractors of Saint Jerome. He defends himself by saying his translations are really nothing more than written versions of whar a preacher or confessor would offer.83 So the scuffles continued, and so too the production of vernacular works.
At stake in these arguments was not simply the proper role for religious women or lay spiritual circles. The role of the clergy, of confessors, of preachers was equally on the line. Giovanni Bonvisi's statement that œgrammatica is nothing but a language,” leveling the linguistic playing field as it does, would have represented a shocking demotion for scholastically trained Jacopo Passavanti or Giordano da Pisa. The popularity of Saint Jerome in late medieval Italy is symptomatic of the ambivalence aroused by vernacular language usage and the relationships between religious men and women. Jerome the penitent also represents the desire for a shared religious culture:84 œHelpless, I cast myself at the feet of Jesus, I watered them with my tears, I wiped them with my hair.”85
The ascendency of Jerome points us immediately to the practice of spiritual direction, which, like preaching, was closely bound up with the production of religious literature in the vernacular. Most authors of devotional literature were also confessors or spiritual mothers, sisters, sons, or fathers. Jerome the penitent, the desert pilgrim, the translator and [80] correspondent was just the kind of authority for a new vernacular age, with its emphasis on preaching, translating, and spiritual direction. He proved especially useful in authorizing literacy and religious relations between men and women. œTranslations,” he wrote, œmust address the whole human race,” not a specialized audience.86 That nonspecialized audience, which confronts any reader of Jerome's translations, but most notably the biblical books, was largely female.
At the beginning of the fourteenth century, the authentic Jerome was known primarily through his prologues to and commentaries on the books of the Bible, the majority of which are addressed to Paula, Eustochium, or both. But to have a true sense of Jerome as fourteenth-century Italy knew, promoted, and imitated him, one must turn to his dopelganger, Pseudo-Jerome, and volume 30 of the Patrologia Latina. In volume 30 we meet Pseudo-Jerome, pre-Erasmian Jerome, the œchaperone” of apocryphal texts.87 His work and identity would expand even more when he began to write in vernacular Italian,88 and his authentic and pseudonymous voices could blend so much more subtly in translation.
Jerome's authentic corpus provided grounds for authorial usurpation. œOf the letters to Paula and Eustochium, the number is infinite: I write them every day.”89 This professed infinity, backed by his Vulgate disclosures, created a literary possibility that medieval writers proved unable to resist. Over time authors with his nom de plume supplied the authoritative account of the Assumption of Mary.90 One composed, others elaborated an abridged psalter, which from the eleventh century formed the core of many prayer books owned by the laity, especially women.91 Jerome's real and invented responses to his female correspondents also worked their way into the liturgical setting through the Martyrologium Hieronymianum and similar collections, where they provide a conversational frame to feast day readings.92 As in the thirteenth-century apse mosaic in Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome, these inquisitive groups perch in the cornices of legends and liturgical sources, chatting informatively.
To Jerome's authentic letters reporting the hospitals, hospices, house monasteries, intellectual efforts, and pilgrimages of early Christian Roman women, new letters were slowly added, like the one to Celantia, a busy household administrator. Gathered as they were in medieval manuscripts, these letters functioned as small charters for women for whose diverse endeavors, talents, interests, and religious experiences did not match the limited ad status sermon format or formal ecclesiastical legislation. They [81] also authorized, even glamorized, male involvement with and sponsorship of women's religious interests.
After you gave up all to God, Unmarried, married, celibate women You illuminated with splendid words.93
This verse from a fourteenth-century laude would have traveled with the soulful a capella voices of a confraternity through late medieval city streets. Girolamo da Siena (d. 1420), an Augustinian associated with Santo Spirito in Florence, dedicated his work to desert saints, and appealed to his patron, Jerome.94 Giovanni Dominici (d. 1419) kept in a special register careful copies of his letters to his spiritual mothers and daughters.95 The reforming Franciscan preacher Bernardino of Siena located the birth of his vocation with an encounter with Jerome's letters, which he turned to after the death of his foster mother, a tertiary dedicated to hospital work.96 It becomes almost impossible to distinguish between pastoral and literary relationship: the amalgamated Jerome embraces and endorses both.
Much of the Pseudo-Jerome corpus, as with Pseudo-Augustine, consists of compositions written for women and immediately, or eventually, identified with women's religious experience.97 We see here how audience can create author. The audience was, of course, composite. The parts that interest us here consist of women who want a religious education, of persons who might judge negatively the activity of writing for women, and of men looking for a voice with which to speak of, and to, and even in the register of women's religious experience. Like Cavalca's œIo mi penso, che,” which enlarged the imaginative range within which the audience could place the Magdalene and all she might stand for, so Pseudo-Jerome helped enlarge the range of the male voice in religious literature. He also helped religious men forge a vocation that was both pastoral and literary.
Colloquy and Ventriloquy
Much has been written about confession and spiritual direction as an instrument of social and psychological control.98 If this were the whole story we would not see the kinds of communities or vernacular texts we encounter in the Tre- and Quattrocento. In practice the position of spiritual director was not as simple, limited, or authoritarian as often imagined. Very often confessors were friends or relatives; frequently a woman's spiritual [81] director or confessor would be significantly younger than she, a wealthy woman might be a young cleric's patron and he her protªgª. œMy mother, I embrace you a hundred thousand million times; may you be ardent.... You are to me as Christ in my heart.”99 So wrote Giovanni Colombim in two of his letters to the abbess and sisters of Santa Bonda in Siena. These are important perspectives to keep in mind when we approach vernacular writers for whom spiritual direction supplied both the context and content of their written work.
So it was with the writer to whom I now turn, Simone da Cascina, a Dominican active in the second half of the fourteenth century. Simone lived in the same monastery as Domenico Cavalca, which continued to provide spiritual services to several lay and monastic women's groups. Simone's Colloquio spirituale was composed about 1391 for an audience of religious women.100 Structured as a conversation among four personae, the Colloquio presents a written mimesis of the oral setting of spiritual direction and friendship. Each speaker displays a different religious disposition, a different idiom, and thus a different genre of religious expression.101 The text under discussion in the Colloquio is fundamentally an oral and dramatic one: the words and gestures of the mass.
The conversation of Simone's characters dramatizes an ideal of instruction and friendship. The first speaker is Caterina, a religious woman of unspecified status, whose questions prompt the responses of the other three speakers and generate the text. The second speaker is Simone, the author's homonynm, a master in theology, who offers to brighten Caterina's penitential mood with an explanation of the theological symbolism of the liturgical ritual. The third speaker, the Fraticello, is a companion of Simone, perhaps a lay brother or preacher, or both. He displays a zest for complex allegorical schemes, schemes both he and the others refer to as œbelle fantazie.”The final speaker, the Monachetta, is a passionate mystic. The interaction of these figures is marked by affability and mutual appreciation.
Good point sister ... I am glad you added that, maestro.... What's on your mind, Fraticello? ... Thank you Fraticello and I [Caterina] ask that when belle fantazie come into your mind that you not remain quiet.... Well said. 102
Moreover, the characters clearly have an impact on each other. At the onset, Caterina's rueful contemptus mundi provokes Simone's theological explication of the Mass. This inspires the mystical outpouring of the Mo [82] nachetta, which near the end brings the Fraticello to a sober, penitential frame of mind and tempers his impulse to construct ever more elaborate cathedrals of symbols.

The expressive foursome offer a conversational gloss on a text, the Mass, which is not primarily a written document, but a performance to which they all have equal access. Each character is involved in a process of responding to the liturgy, of making it his or her own, of elaborating on it in a particular idiom: penitential and meditational, theological, allegorical, mystical. None of these modes of response is autonomous; the characters respond to each other as well as to the Mass.

After Simone explains the meaning of the priest's vestments, he exhorts Caterina to enact her own ritual of vestment as she approaches the altar, mentally and psychologically putting off certain attitudes and putting on others.103 A theological comprehension of ritual objects and gestures (Simone's expertise) is insufficient-Caterina must invent and enter her own imaginative ritual. Implicit is the expectation that the Colloquio's audience, like the interlocutors, will engage in several levels of translation, appropriating various perspectives, participating in the imaginative processes set out for them, and translating the Mass into the words and images of their own idiom.
As the plot reaches the point of the elevation of the host, the Monachetta bursts out with a vernacular paraphrase of the Adoro te devote, demonstrating how well she has understood both the meaning of the mass and the Latin responsory hymn attributed to Thomas Aquinas.104 The contemplative Monachetta also reproduces at appropriate moments passages from Pseudo-Augustinian texts, which comprised the standard reading for religious women in the late Middle Ages. Thus she introduces her own paraliturgical practices into the liturgical performance. At the point of the Monachetta's most effusive and linguistically inventive outpouring, the Fraticello responds with the awed declaration: œThose are not the words of a woman.”105
The expectation that an audience would make texts their own, perform their own translations, and become in some sense living media for texts is both implicit and explicit in the Colloquia. While Simone encourages acts of translation and personal interpretation during the course of the Colloquia-Caterina's appropriation of the priest's vesting rituals, the Fraticello's allegorical excursuses, the Monachetta's vernacular reproductions of hymns and devotional readings-he is seized at the last moment with anxiety for the public life of their collaborative text. [83]
œBefore we part, [he says,] let's first pray to the true Judge of all things that our colloquio doesn't fall into the hands of bad intentioned persons. . . .”The Fraticello responds, œDon't worry, maestro, about whom it reaches. Persons of ill-will are not always believed.” œI know,” concedes Simone, œBut because of their cleverness and dissimulation there is still a danger.”œI have good hope for this our colloquio,” reassures the Fraticello. œIt will defend itself from the misinterpretation and deprecation of charlatans.” œSo let it be then,” concludes Simone. 106
The Colloquio demonstrates, even dramatizes, the importance of the role of an audience in the mind of an author. The inclusion of female voices signals the instrumentality of female religious experience to a work that, in turn will be offered to them. Simone de Cascina has assumed what Michael Baxendall has described as the role of a fifteenth-century religious painter: he has produced the work of a professional visualizer.107 He executes in a textual medium what the audience practices imaginatively.
More clearly than in most religious writing addressed to women, Simone da Cascina demonstrates how the audience is not an entity that can be placed objectively and discretely outside the text. The female audience is a presence in the mind of the writer. This presence creates a certain kind of imaginative and hence textual possibility, enabling the writer to express thoughts and sentiments that might be deemed inappropriate for another destination. Here Simone da Cascina works through female personae to express the sorrowful emotions of a penitent, curiosity and puzzlement in the face of divine truths, spontaneous prayer, and mystical speech. He effects a kind of ventriloquy, or scribal transvestism. In their letters, other religious writers of the period express emotion, or talk about its importance, and explore the themes of meditation and contemplation more frequently in letters addressed to women than in those to men.108 For instance, for all his professions that he intends to instruct, the rhetoric of Giovanni Dominici is more expressive than didactic or informative.109
Giovanni Boccaccio offers another example of this literary maneuver in The Elegy of Lady Fiammetta, in which he makes a feminized audience and a female voice the condition and vehicle of expression. At the start, Fiammetta addresses her audience: œI wish to recount my story to you, noble ladies ... consider these things ... and feel them with a woman's heart.”110 The subject is love. The ideal speaker and audience are thus female. Religious experience, like love, is also a gendered experience. œThe consolation that I seek is that I may become a true sister of Christ,” writes [84] Giovanni Colombim to his sisters in Christ, the religious women of Santa Bonda.111 Elsewhere he emphasizes his delight at being transformed by love into another.112 With Simone de Cascina, as with many of the male writers of letters addressed to women, voice and authorial persona appear to be modulated by a gendered "horizon of expectation." A female audience may elicit, permit, even authorize a rhetoric or a range of expressiveness that the writer might otherwise not have attempted. With Simone in his Colloquio this rhetoric is imitative, an attempt at literary echoing; it enlarges the readers' affective and intellectual experience of the text, and of the Mass.
By highlighting the oral, social (and sociable) context of the production of texts and translations, I have aimed to show how, if clerics offered women a theological education, women offered men a sentimental education in the widest sense. As Cesare Segre said, vernacularization is a state of mind before it is a language act.113
The audience of vernacular texts addressed to women has typically been envisioned as made up of institutionally constrained, rather isolated women with an interior focus. This has reduced the cultural import and influence ascribed to both the texts and the female readers. At stake is not so much the ordering of days and minds of legally dead women. Rather, choices of authority, voice, and genre addressed to religious women are engaged with issues pertaining to the professional identity of religious men as well as women. In the late fifteenth and sixteenth centuries these choices increasingly hinged on ideas about the proper ordering of civic, ducal, and ecclesiastic domains.114
Although it is a regular literary practice to doubt the authenticity of texts ascribed to medieval women authors, hypothesizing instead degrees of debt to male scribes, secretaries, and promoters, the same practice has rarely been applied to texts attributed to male authors. Perhaps, with a clearer perception of the dynamism that characterized women's social and religious roles, we can now begin to apply the same critical habits to works that carry the names of men and to their female collaborators.

1 Carlo Delcorno, "Predicazione volgare e volgarizzamenti," Mªlanges de lÃ÷cole Fran°aise de Rome, Moyen Age, Temps Modernes 89 (1977): 679-89, at p. 683; see also pp. 688-89.

2 Hans Robert Jauss, "Theory of Genres and Medieval Literature," in Towards an Aesthetic of Reception, trans. Timothy Bahti (Theory and History of Literature 2) (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1982), pp. 76-109, esp. 90-95, 99-101.

3 Gianfranco Folena, "`Volgarizzare' e tradurre': Idea e terminologia della traduzione dal Medio Evo italiano e romanzo all'Umanismo europeo," in La traduzione: Saggi e studi, ed. Giuseppe G. Petronio (Trieste: LINT, 1973), pp. 57-120; see especially 64ff. Also pertinent is Folena's "Textus testis: caso e necessit· nelle origini romanze," in Concetto, storia, miti e immagini del Medio Evo, ed. V. Branca (Florence: Sansoni, 1973), pp. 483-507; see p. 507 for the cultural impact of mendicant preaching and translation. More laypersons preached and translated than Folena or Delcorno acknowledge. Thus they give too stark an impression of high/ low and clerical/lay segregation.
Cesare Segre has emphasized volgarizazzione as a state of mind, one that precedes any act that might be called literary; see his Lingua, stile e societ· (Milan: Feltrinelli, 1974), and Volgarizzamenti del Due e Trecento (Turin: Unione tipograficoeditrice torinese, 1953)

4 Michel Foucault, "What Is an Author?" in Rethinking Popular Culture: Contemporary Perspectives in Cultural Studies, ed. Chandra Mukerji and Michael Schudson (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991), pp. 446-64; Brian Stock, The Implications of Literacy: Written Language and Models of Interpretation in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983).

5 Jerome J. McGann, A Critique of Modern Textual Criticism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983). "Authority is a social nexus, not a personal possession; and ... the initiation [of each new work] takes place in a necessary and integral historical environment of great complexity. Most immediately ... it takes place within the conventions and enabling limits that are accepted by the prevailing institutions of literary production" (p. 48). In the modern age "literary institutions" include author, editor, publisher, illustrator, printer, distributor. One task of this chapter is to block out and illustrate aspects of the literary institutions shaping vernacular religious texts in late medieval Italy.

6 Foucault, "What Is an Author?" p. 462.

7 Jauss, "Literary History as a Challenge to Literary Theory," in Towards an Aesthetic of Reception, p. 19.

8 "The spiritual exchange bank." Giuseppe de Luca, Scrittori di religione del Trecento: Testi Originali (Milan and Naples: Riccardo Ricciardi, 1954; Turin: Einaudi, 1977), vol. 2, p. 368.

9 Abundant evidence testifies to the importance of religious literature in the individual and collective life of women in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Susan Groag Bell provides a good orientation to this subject in "Medieval Women Book Owners: Arbiters of Lay Piety and Ambassadors of Culture," in Sisters and Workers in the Middle Ages, ed. Judith M. Bennett, Elizabeth A. Clark, Jean F. O'Barr, B. Anne Vilen, and Sarah Westphal-Wihl (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1989), pp. 135-61, which originally appeared in Signs 7/4 (Summer 1982). For a general catalogue of European didactic literature addressed to women, see Alice A. Hentsch, De la littªrature didactique du Moyen Age s'addressant spªcialement aux femmes (Cahors, 1903; rpt. Geneva: Slatkine, 1975). Ruth Kelso in her Doctrine for the Lady of the Renaissance (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1956) gives a bibliography of didactic literature and treatises addressed to women, pp. 326-462.
On use of manuscripts in women's religious communities, particularly in a liturgical (or paraliturgical) context, see Jeffrey F. Hamburger, "Art, Enclosure and the Cura Monialium: Prolegomena in the Guise of a Postscript," Gesta 31/2 (1992): 108-34, especially pp. 118-20, and his voluminous notes. For books of hours one may turn to the recent article by Virginia Reinburg and the bibliographies in Time Sanctified: The Book of Hours in MedievalArt and Life, ed. Roger Wieck (New York: George Braziller and the Walters Art Gallery, 1988). For Italy in particular see below nn. 11 and 12. Bibliographic directions to printed editions of works treated in this essay are supplied by F. Zambrini, Le opere volgari a stampa dei secoli XIII e XIV (Bologna, 1884; with S. Morpurgo's Supplemento c indici, Bologna, 1929).

10 Herbert Grundmann, in his study of twelfth- and thirteenth-century religious movements, was the first to insist that the relationship between religious men and women was crucial to the development of the vernacular prose literature and hence the vernaculars as literary languages. This literary and religious alliance was not, Grundmann notes, a natural outgrowth of the administrative imperatives of new (male) religious orders-on the contrary it ran counter to them-but rather developed from women's relationships with friars. See chapter 8 of the revised edition of Grundmann's Religiyse Bewegungen im Mittelalter: Untersuchungen pber die geschichtlichen Zusammenbdnge zwischen der Ketzerei, den Bettelorden und der religiysen Frauenbewegung inn 12. und 13. Jahrhundert und pber die geschichtlichen Grundlagen der Deutschen Mystik (Berlin: Everings Historische Studien, Band 268, 1935; rev. ed. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1961). I have used the Italian translation by Maria Ausserhofer and Lea Nicolet Santini, Movimenti religiosi nel Medioevo: Ricerche sui nessi storici tra l'eresia, gli Ordini mendicanti e il movimento religioso femminile nel XII e XIII seiolo e sui presupposti storici della mistica tedesca, (Bologna: Mulino, 1980). See also Grundmann's "Die frauen and die Literatur im Mittelalter," Archiv fpr Kulturgeschichte 26 (1936): 129-61. Grundmann focused on what he classified as "mystical literature."

11 "An oceanic movement of translation," Giuseppe de Luca, Letteratura di piet· a Venezia dal '300 al '600, Saggi di "Lettere italiane" III (Florence: Olschki, 1958), pp. 17-18. Even more valuable are de Luca's four-volume Scrittori di religione del Trecento: Volgarizzamenti (Milan and Naples: Riccardo Ricciardi, 1954; Turin: Einaudi, 1977); and his simultaneously published two-volume Scrittori di religione del Trecento: Testi originali. See his Introduction in Testi Originali, vol. 2, pp. 35886 (printed identically in Volgarizzamenti, vol. 4, pp. 761-90), for a thoughtful overview of vernacular religious literature. His short prefaces to each text selection frequently note female patronage, ownership, and execution and often offer valuable manuscript information as well.
With a catalogue of sixty Italian manuscripts containing translations of an immensely popular set of Pseudo-Augustinian texts, Genevi¿ve Esnos lends weight and specificity to de Luca's assertion of female interest in religious literature in her "Les traductions mªdiªvales fran°aises et italiennes des Soliloques attribuªs · Saint Augustine," Mªlanges d'Archªologie et dÃHistoire (Ecole Fran°aise de Rome) 79 (1967): 299-370.

12 For literacy see Franco Cardini, "Alfabetismo e cultura scritta nell'ªta comunale," in Alfabetismo ª cultura scritta (Perugia: Universit· degli studi di Perugia, 1978), pp. 147-86. Women's leadership in religious life is discussed later. There are four recent articles that treat vernacular works addressed to women in the period under consideration here. All the authors focus on didactic works and, with the exception of Gabriella Zarri, tell us more about male attitudes and literary convention than about women or context. The first is a misleadingly entitled article by Anna Benvenuti Papi, "Devozioni private e guide di coscienze femminili nella Firenze del Due-Trecento," Ricerche Storiche 16 (1986): 565-601; reprinted as "Padri Spirituali" in her collected essays, In castro poenitentiae: Santit· e Societ· femminile nell'Italia medievale, Italia Sacra 45 (Rome: Herder, 1990), pp. 205-46.
Gabriella Zarri lists sixty early printed works addressed to women, in her "La vita religiosa femminile tra devozone e chiostro," in Le sante vive: Cultura e religiosit· femminile nella prima et· moderna (Turin: Rosenberg and Sellier, 1990), pp. 21-50; for further discussion see her "Note su diffusione e circolazione di testi devoti (1520-1550)," in Libri, idee e sentimenti religiosi nel Cinquecento Italiano, collected papers from the conference of the same title, 3-5 April 1986, sponsored by Istituto di Studi Rinascimentali (Ferrara: Edizioni Panini, 1987), pp. 131-54. Although principally concerned with early printed books, the notes and observations in Zarri's articles are especially valuable.
Finally, there is Genevi¿ve Hasenohr Esnos's meticulous study of prescriptive rules authored by clerics, "La vie quotidienne de la femme vue par l'ªglise: l'enseignement des 'journªes chrªtienne' de la fin du moyen «ge," in Frau and Sptmittelalterlicher Altag: Internationaler Kongress Krems an der Donau z. bis 5. Oktober 1984, Veryffentlichungen des Instituts fpr mittelalterliche Realienkunde ysterreichs 9 (Philosophisch-Historische Klasse Sitzungsberichte, 473) (Vienna: òsterreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften,1986), pp. 19-102. Likewise, the masculine point of view is the real subject of her bibliographically useful "Mod¿les de vie fªminine dans la littªrature morale et religieuse d'Oc," in La femme dans la vie religieuse du Languedoc (XIIIe-XIVe s.), Cahiers de Fanjeaux 23 (Fanjeaux: Privat, 1988), pp. 152-70.

13 For women as the owners and producers of the best editions of works of the most famous preachers and vernacular writers of the Trecento, see Carlo Delcorno, Giordano da Pisa e l'antica predicazione volgare, Biblioteca di Lettere italiane, vol. 40 (Florence: Olschki,1975), pp. 79-80; Giordano da Pisa, Quaresimale Fiorentino 1305-1306, ed. Delcorno (Florence: Sansoni, 1974), p. lxxiii n. 5; and Delcorno, Preface to Simone da Cascina, Colloquio Spirituale, ed. Fausta Dalla Riva (Biblioteca di Lettere italiane, Studi e Testi 26) (Florence: Olschki, 1982), pp. n-13.

14 The following anthologies provide useful introductions to female religious writers: Scrittici mistiche italiane, ed. G. Pozzi and C. Leonardi (Genoa: Marietti, 1988); Medieval Women Writers, ed. Katharina M. Wilson (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1984-); and Women Writers of the Renaissance and Reformation, ed. Katharina M. Wilson (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1987).

15 See McGann, Critique of Modern Textual Criticism, pp. 51-54, for the idea of "literary institution" as developed for the eighteenth century. I am grateful to Anthony G. Grafton for directing me toward what has proven to be a useful organizing concept.

16 My approach follows that of Natalie Z. Davis, "Printing and the People," in Society and Culture in Early Modern France (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1975) . Davis suggests that the "the combined effort of author and reader" in the world of the early printed book can best be understood "first, if we supplement thematic analysis of texts with evidence about audiences that can provide context for the meaning and uses of books; second, if we consider a printed book not merely as a source for ideas and images, but as a carrier of relationships" (p.. 192).

17 Bizoche or bisoche and pinzochere are terms for uncloistered religious women; Romana Guarnieri, "Pinzochere," Dizionario degli Istituzioni di Perfezione (Rome: Edizione Paolina, 1980), pp. 1721-49.

18 For production and exchange of books at Monteluce, my principal sources are: Ugolino Nicolini, "I minori osservanti di Monteripido e lo `scritorium' delle clarisse di Monteluce in Perugia nei secoli XV e XVI," Picenum Seraphicum 8 (1971): 100-130; Memoriale di Monteluce: Cronaca del monastero delle clarisse di Perugia dal 1448 al 1838, ed. Chiara Augusta Laniati, with an introductory essay by Ugolino Nicolini (Assisi: Santa Maria degli Angeli, 1983) (see especially the inventory of books, pp. xxii-xxxvi); and Ignazio Baldelli, "Codici e carte di Monteluce," appendix to "Un Formulario di Cancelleria Francescana tra il XIII e XIV secolo," by Giuseppe de Luca, Archivio italiano per la storia della piet· (Rome: Edizioni di Storia e Litteratura,1951), vol. 1, pp. 387-93
Baldelli notes evidence for thirteenth- and fourteenth-century manuscript use, p. 387. The extensive documentation provided by Cesare Cenci in his Documentazione di vita assisiana, 1300-1530, 3 vols. (Grottaferrata [Rome]: Editiones Collegi S. Bonaventura ad Clara Aquas, 1974-76) offers several examples of friars and members of confraternities assisting in the acquisition of religious manuscripts and images (see n. 67 below). For German friars acting as artistic and literary agents, procuring commissions, see Hamburger, "Art, Enclosure," 120.

19 The scribal activity of Monteluce and Santa Lucia was accompanied by much literary activity, compositions, and translations both by sisters and by Franciscan friars with whom they had close ties. Both produced chronicles of their communities, wrote biographies of notable women within their communities and their order, and composed spiritual writings and poetry. See Ricordanze del monastero di S. Lucia osc. in Foligno (cronache 1424.-1786), ed. Angela Emmanuela Scandella, with an appendix on other Umbrian women's communities by Giovanni Boccali (Assisi: Edizioni Porziuncola, 1987), pp. xii-xiii, for collaboration with Monteluce and writings by sisters.

20 For the publishing activities at San Jacopo, which began in 1476, see P. Bologna, "La stamperia fiorentina del monastero di S. Jacopo di Ripoli e le sue edizione," Giornale Storico della Letteratura Italiana 20 (1892): 349-78; 21 (1893): 45-69; E. Nesi, Il diario della stamperia di Ripoli (Florence: B. Seeber, 1903); and M. A. Rouse and R. H. Rouse, Cartolai, Illuminators, and Printers in FifteenthCentury Italy (Los Angeles: Department of Special Collections, University of California Research Library 1988), especially pp. 38-60, 72-93.

21 Rouse and Rouse, Cartolai, p. 36 (payments to sisters as compositors); p. 38 (acquisition of matrices); pp. 45-47 (marketing); p. 59 (collaboration with illuminators).

22 Serena Spanû Martinelli, "La canonizzazione di Caterina Vegri: Un problema cittadino nella Bologna Seicento," in Culto dei santi, istituzioni e classi sociali in et· preindustrialie, ed. Sofia Boesch-Gajano and Lucia Sebastiani (L'Aquila and Rome: Japadre,1984), pp. 719-34, see p. 722 for printing.
See also Spanû Martinelli's "Per uno studio su Caterina da Bologna," Studi Medievali ser. 3, 12 (1971): 712-59, especially pp. 756-59; and idem, "La biblioteca del `Corpus Domini' bolognese: l'inconsueto spaccato di una cultura monastica femminile," La Bibliofilia 88 (1986): 1-23.

23 National Library of Vienna, 1923 [Theol. 729]; described by Hermann Julius Hermann in Die Handschriften and Incunabeln der italienischen Renaissance 4 vol. (Leipzig: K. W. Hiersemann, 1930-33), pp. 11-17.

24 The Florentine women's community known as Paradiso, a Brigittine foundation, was founded by Niccolaio degli Alberti, friend of the humanist Coluccio Salutati. One of its fifteenth-century members was Suor Orsola, daughter of Feo Belcari, translator of religious texts and author of a vita of Giovanni Colombini (d. 1367). Colombini, the Sienese leader of a religious movement that sent shock waves of dramatic conversions through Tuscany and resulted in a new religious order for men, the Gesuati, left a corpus of passionate letters between spiritual friends. On the Paradiso and manuscripts, see R. Piattoli, "Un capitolo di storia dell'arte libraria ai primi del Quattrocento: Rapporti tra il monastero fiorentino del Paradiso e l'Ordine francescano," Studi francescani 29 (1932): 1-21. For the Gesuati as sponsors of religious literature and the monastery of the Paradiso, see Georg Dufner, Die "Moralia" Gregors des Grossen in ihren italienischen Volgarizzamenti, Miscellanea Erudita 2 (Padua: Antenore, 1959), pp. 71-72; and Esnos, "Les Traductions." A codex containing one of the best versions of Domenico Cavalca's Frutti della lingua belonged to Fra Zanobi, the procurator of the Paradiso, and later to the sisters of the Annunciata, also in Florence (Florence: Biblioteca Centrale Nazionale, Conventi soppressi F.3.1372).

25 For San Jacopo's conservation of sermons, see De Luca, Testi originali, Preface to Giordano da Pisa. Earlier in the fifteenth century, Sister Angelica of San Jacopo di Ripoli in Florence copied Domenico Cavalca's Specchio di Croce, signing off with an echo of Catherine of Siena in her self-reference "indegna serva e schiava di Jesd Christo," see Florence, Biblioteca Riccardiana, cod. 2102, cited in Carlo Delcomo, "Cavalca Domenico," Dizionario biografico italiano (Rome: Societ· Grafica Romana, 1979), pp. 577-86, at p. 584. For the same work copied at Sant'Anna in Foligno, see Rome, Biblioteca Casanatense cod. 404 (fifteenth century), with the annotation: "Questo libro e chiamato lo specchio della croce e delle donne de santa anna de fuligno." On Monteluce's fourteenth-century library, see Baldelli, œCodici e carte di Monteluce." Studies that complement and expand Baldelli's brief observations about the copying habits at Monteluce, with reference to southern Italian convents, are those of Virginia Brown, "Flores Psalmorum and Orationes Psalmodicae in Beneventan Script," Medieval Studies 51 (1989): 424-66; idem, "The Survival of Beneventan Script: Sixteenth-Century Liturgical Codices from Benedictine Monasteries in Naples," in Monastica: Scritti raccolti in memoria del XV centenario della nascit· di S. Benedetto (480-1980), Miscellanea Cassinese 44, vol. i (Monte Casino: Pubblicazione Cassinese, 1981), pp. 237-355.

26 Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (BAV), Vat. lat. 11315, ff. 95v-101r, "Inventario delli libri che sono dentro il Monastero di Monte lucido di Perugia fatto alle 13 d'Aprile 1600," indicates that Monteluce's library remained well-stocked. Relevant to the discussion below, it is worth noting the early printed editions of Domenico Cavalca's Pungilingua and Specchio della Croce, a work entitled Sermoni del b. Ephrem, pseudonymous and authentic works of Augustine and Jerome, and in Vite de santi padri descritte da S. Hieronymo et altri Autori (most likely translated by Cavalca). Similar inventories in BAV, Vat. lat. 11315 for the "monache dette le murate della Citt· di Castello" (11v-114r), Santa Cecilia in Citt· di Castello (114r-116r), the "monasterio del paradiso" also of Citt· di Castello (116r-118r), and San Antonio of Padua in Perugia (101v-103v) indicate shared tastes in other Umbrian women's communities.
In BAV, Vat. lat. 11286, 375r-380v, the list of "libri expurgati" from religious communities in Perugia adds more to our picture of literary strength in Perugian women's communities by showing us what four more of Monteluce's neighbors (all of them initially penitent communities) lost. The lists are unspectacular. Books of unknown authorship and vernacular Scripture or Scripture commentary (even the penitential psalms) were prime targets. The only faintly heretical text shows up in several copies of a Venetian edition of Heinrich Herp's Specchio di perfezione, a work written between 1455 and 1460 at the request of a devout widow and confidante, which drew from Margherite Porete's (d. 1310) condemned Mirror of Simple Souls. On this work see Romana Guarnieri, Il movimento del libero spirito: Testi e documenti (Rome: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, 1965), p. 478

27 Susan Groag Bell made good use of testaments in her "Medieval Women Book Owners." For Beguine testaments in Belgium, see Michel Lauwers and Walter Simons, Bªguines · Tournai au Bas Moyen Age: Les communautªs bªguinales · Tournai du XIIIe au XV si¿cle (Torncacum: Etudes interdisciplinaires relatives au patrimoine culturel tournaisien, vol. 3) (Tournai: Archives du Chapitre Cathªdral and Louvain-la-Neuve: Universitª Catholique de Louvain, 1988), especially p. 33

28 For Maria and Jacobella, see Rome, Archivio Generalizio Augustiniana (AGA), C.3 Pergamena, an. 2 and 5; 9.

29 Cesare Cenci, "II testamento della b. Cecilia Coppoli da Perugia e di Battista (Girolama) di Montefeltro," Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 69 (1976): 219-31, especially pp. 225-31. For Battista's life, see A. Fattori, "Battista da Montefeltro," Picenum Seraphicum 2 (1916): 225-35, 337-45. For her literary corpus, including letters, laude (including one on Saint Jerome), sonnets, and sermons (including one delivered before Pope Martin V), see A. Fattori, "Rime inedite di Battista da Montefeltro," Picenum Seraphicum 3 (1917): 337-51; and P. O. Kristeller, Iter Italicum, I-II (Leiden: Brill, 1965-67), under "Malatesta Battista, Jeronima." Jerome represented for Battista not only a literary and spiritual patron, but also, as we know from her gifts to the Hieronimite community in Pesaro, an institutional client; see Cenci, "II testamento," p. 222 n. 4. For the literary-monastic milieu in which Battista moved, see A. Fantozzi, "La riforma osservante dei monasteri delle clarisse nell'Italia centrale," Archivum Franciscanum Historicum 23 (1930): 361-82, 488-550.

30 . Cenci, "Il testamento," p. 223 n. 2; A. Fantozzi, "Documenti intorno alla beata Cecilia Coppoli clarissa (1426-1500)," AFH 19 (1926): 212.

31 The communities of Santa Lucia, Monteluce, Sant'Anna, and Corpus Domini shared a number of features in addition to production, collection, and dissemination of texts. Except for Monteluce, which seems to have shifted its status (de facto if not de jure) several times, all had been until the mid-fifteenth century informally organized lay communities. At this point, they allied themselves with the Observant branch of the Franciscan Order and accepted a stricter rule. In the decades before this alliance and throughout the fifteenth century, they attracted a notable number of women from regionally powerful families. For a brief period the interests of the male Observants and the well-educated religious women appear to have harmonized, yielding, among other things, a lively literary culture extending through a network of women's communities. Both the books and the religious ideas of the women of Monteluce traveled as various sisters moved throughout central Italy reforming, reviving, or refounding communities for women. For this reform movement see, most fundamentally, Fantozzi, "La riforma osservante"; idem, "Documenti," 194-225, 334-84; Nicolini, Memoriale, pp. xx-xxi; and the essays in La beata Angelina da Montegiove e il movimento del Terz'Ordine regolare francescano femminile: Atti del convegno di studi Francescani, Foligno, 22-24. settembre 1983, ed. Raffaele Pazzelli and Mario Sensi (Rome: Analecta Tertii Ordinis Regularis Sancti Francisci, 1984).

32 The account books of Monteluce indicate inexpensive and moderately priced manuscripts.

33 Cenci, Documentazione di vita assisiana, vol. 1, p. 145. In addition, Bernardo's testament left money so that the pier next to his burial spot in San Francesco would be painted with a crucifix flanked by Mary, John the Evangelist, Francis, and the Magdalene. Bernardo's daughter Nina was a sister in the community of San Paolo of Assisi.

34 Cenci, Documentazione de vita assisiana, vol. 1, p. 591. San Antonio was a group of Franciscan penitents who, unlike the similar communities of Santa Lucia and Sant'Anna, resisted the Observant friars.

35 Gene Brucker, The Society of Renaissance Florence: A Documentary Study (New York: Harper and Row, 1971), pp. 211-12.

36 The principal male, vernacular, religious writers of this period include Domenico Cavalca, Giovanni dalle Celle, Gentile da Foligno, Simone Fidati da Cascia, Giovanni da Salerno, Simone da Cascina, Giovanni Colombini, Giovanni Dominici, Girolamo da Siena, Tommaso Caffarini, Pietro Arrivabene, and Girolamo Savonarola. These are the best-known writers and translators of the Tre- and Quattrocento whose activities, letters, dedications, and manuscript traditions connect them with religious women.

37 Accounts of the history of these interrelated communities are not wholly consistent. For a brief, clear account based on antiquarian sources see the notes of Benvenuti Papi, "Devozioni private," pp. 219-25. Benvenuti Papi also discusses Santa Caterina al Monte alias San Gaggio and its neighboring women's institutions in "Donne religiose nella Firenze del Due-Trecento: Appunti per una ricerca in corso," in Le mouvement confraternel au moyen «ge: France, Italie, Suisse (Rome: L'÷cole Fran°aise de Rome, 1987), pp. 62-68. Mary Germaine McNeil, the only author who tries to reconcile source discrepancies, gives a good account of the foundation of Santa Caterina in her Simone Fidati and His "De Gestis Domini Salvatoris," Ph.D. dissertation, Catholic University of America, Studies in Medieval and Renaissance Latin Language and Literature XXI (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America Press, 1950), pp. 27-29. A fuller but more confusing presentation is proffered by Nicola Mattioli, Il beato Simone Fidati da Cascia, dell'Ordine Romitano di S. Agostino e suoi scriti editi e inediti . . . , Antologia Agostiniana, 2 (Rome: Tipografia dei Campidoglio, 1898), p. 1. Mattioli published excerpts from the chronicles of San Gaggio, as did G. Bacchi in "II Monastero di `S. Elisabetta delle Convertite," Bollettino Storico Agostiniano 7 (1931): 145-47, 234-38; 8 (1932):150-52, 182-83; and Bacchi, "S. Caterina da Siena e le Agostiniane di S. GaggioFirenze," Bollettino Storico Agostiniano 3 (1927): 148-49.

38 The works of Simone Fidati and their translations by Giovanni da Salerno are either edited or described in the following studies by Nicola Mattioli: Il beato Simone Fidati; id. Fra Giovanni da Salerno dell'Ordine Romitorio di S. Agostino del secolo XIV e le sue opere volgare inedite ... con uno studio comparativo di altre attribute al P. Cavalca, Antologia Agostiniana, 3 (Rome: Scuola Tipografia Salesiana, 1901); Gli Evangeli del b. Simone da Cascia esposti in volgare dal suo discepolo fra Giovanni da Salerno, ed. Mattoli, Antologia Agostiniana 4 (Roma: G. d'Antonis, 1902).

39 Arrigo Levasti, ed., Mistici del Due e del Trecento (Milan: Rizzoli, 1960); L'Ordine della Vita Cristiana, or simply Vita Cristiana, is edited on pp. 609-82; a summary of the fife and works of Simone occurs at pp. 1004-5.

40 Convertite is a term designating penitent women, often those who had lived previously as concubines or prostitutes.

41 David A. Perini, "Scarperia (fr. Domenico de)," in Bibliographia augustiniana, 4 vols. (Florence: 1929-38), 2: 170-72.

42 This information is found in the community's late-fourteenth-century chronicle. For nine years before the foundation, Monna Nera, after having entrusted her children to her mother-in-law, had lived a religious life in her own home together with a circle of friends and followers. During this time she maintained a close relationship with the itinerant Simone Fidati. See Mattioli, Il beato Simone Fidati, p. 83; and McNeil, Simone Fidati and "De Gestis," pp. 27-29.

43 Ubertino da Casale, Arbor vitae crucifixe Jesu, ed. Charles T. Davis (Turin: Bottega d'Erasmo, 1961) at p. 4: "Nam ad provintiam Tusciae veniens sub titulo studii, inveni in multis viris virtutis spiritum Jesu fortiter ebulire. Inter quos vir Deo plenus Petrus de Senis, pectenarius, et devotissima Cecilia de Florentia, sic me introduxerunt ad arcana Jesu qui stupendum esset si scriberetur perspicitas ipsius eorundem. Nam prefata virgo . . . totum processum superioris contemplationis de vita Jesu et arcana cordis mei et alia multa de parvulo Jesu saepissime me instruxit." The Florentine communities of San Gaggio and Santa Elisabetta were linked, like Ubertino, to the literary and religious culture of the Spiritual Franciscans and the legacy of Angelo Clareno, who was Simone Fidati's teacher and spiritual guide.

44 An anonymous fourteenth-century writer put these words into the mouth of Saint Jerome, under whose name he published a series of exempla taken from the Vite dei santi padri; quotation is from the prologue of Il libro dell' Ammonizione di Santo Ieronimo a Santa Paula. See the similar statement by Giovanni da Salerno, Mattioli, Fra Giovanni da Salerno, p. 311: "Et per ciû, suore et figliuole in Christo, la cui charit· per vostra pura ed affamata fede mi constrense a trascrivere in vulgare alcune parole di questo tesoro evangelico et christiano." ("And so, sisters and cherished daughters in Christ, love of your pure and intense devotion impels me to translate into vernacular some words from this apostolic and Christian treasure.")

45 Nicole Bªriou, "La prªdication au bªguinage de Paris pendant l'annªe liturgique 1272-1273," Recherches Augustiniennes 13 (1978): 105-229. Bªriou shows, through attention to marginal notes in a preacher's manuscript, that Pierre Limoges composed some of his sermons to Beguines on the basis of conversations with the Beguine magistra; see pp. 121-22,194.

46 Filippo degli Agazzari, Gli Assempri, ed. Piero Misciattelli, 2d ed. (Siena: Edizioni Cantagalli, 1972), p. 8o for the venerable ladies. Confession was a rich source of exemplary tales for the preacher Filippo, who collected them firsthand or through the medium of colleagues who also heard confessions. Filippo (c. 1339 to c. 1422) was a friar at Lecetto, a hermitage linked closely to the efforts and promotion of Catherine of Siena, before he became prior of San Agostino in Siena. The manuscript preface to his Assempri gives a composition date of 1397.

47 Fran W. Kent, "A Proposal by Savonarola for the Self-Reform of Florentine Women (March 1496)," Memorie Domenicane, n.s. 14 (1983): 335-41.

48 Le lettere di Girolamo Savonarola, ora per la prima volta raccolte e a miglior lezione ridotte, ed. Roberto Ridolfi (Florence: Olschki, 1933). See especially pp. 3138 for Savonarola's response to the "admonizione" of the prioress of San Domenico in Pisa, dated Florence, 10 September 1493.

49 Delcorno, Giordano da Pisa, pp. 79-81. Rubrics accompanying Giordano's sermons contextualize the delivery or note Giordano's other activities of the day: "Sunday morning at the donne convertite, in the garden"; "to the women of San Domenico in Cafaggio"; "to the women at San Gaggio"; and with the date March 13, 1305, "dopo mangiare, al le donne da Ripole, [predicato] in platea." As for the material support of preachers by women, we know that in her testament of 1301, Betecca, widow of Enrico Villani, left Giordano da Pisa l00 soldi; see Delcorno, Giordano da Pisa, p. 104 n. 3. See later for bequests to the preacher and translator Domenico Cavalca n. 54.

50 Delcorno, Giordano da Pisa, pp. 79-80. With regard to the rubrics, Delcorno points out that the Italian a can mean either "to" or "at." For him the rubric "al le donne da Ripole" indicates simply that the sermons were given geographically near that community, not to the women. Two sermons delivered in women's religious houses are published by de Luca, Testi Originali, vol. 1, pp. 5-13; a third at Santa Maria Novella, the devotional center for larvae of male and female penitents who had colonized the surrounding neighborhood, a fourth to the confraternity of Orsanmichele, one of whose responsibilities was the legal representation of convertite communities. De Luca, observing the same marginal notes and rubrics as Delcorno, concludes that the women's communities provided the setting and auditors.
As for women making copies of sermons, see Delcorno, "Cavalca Domenico," pp. 577-86, at p. 584.
For Bonaventura's sermons for the sisters of Santa Chiara, see G. Cantini, "S. Bonaventura da Bagnorea 'Magnus Verbi Dei Sanor,"' Antonianum 15 (1940): 69. Another indication of textual exchange between the recluses of San Damiano, the Franciscan Order, and ultimately wider religious culture is the fact that Clare's breviary appears to have provided a model for liturgical practice at the Roman curia. See Augustine Cholat, Le Brªviaire de saint Claire conservi au Convent de Saint Damien · Assisi et son importance liturgique (Opuscules de Critique Historique, fasc. VIII) (Paris: Fischbacher, 1904), pp. 34-49; and Michel Andrieu, "LÃOrdinaire de la chapelle papale et le Cardinal Jacques Gaªtani Stefaneschi," Ephemerides Liturgicae 1/4 (1935): 230-6o.

51 Delcorno, "Predicazione volgare e volgarizzamenti," p. 684.

52 Regola ovvero dottrina a una sua figliuola spirituale, as found in BAV, Reginensis 1744, ff. 1r-79r; see Mattioli, Il beato Simone Fidati da Cascia, pp. 226-42, at pp. 230-31.

53 Italian scholars, whatever their regional focus, use one word most frequently to describe the effects and concrete manifestations of the penitential movement among the laity in the late Middle Ages; that word is "vast." Vast, too, is the scholarly literature on the categories of religious behavior associated with the penitential sensibility (reclusion, pilgrimage, confraternities, penitent communities, hospital foundations, and so on). Giovanna Casagrande has written a very useful review article, which serves as a guide to recent research: "II movimento penitenziale nei secoli del basso medioevo: Note su alcuni recenti contributi," Benedictina 30 (1983) 217-33. Pertinent here too is her "Forme di vita religiosa femminile nell'area di Citt· di Castello nel sec. III," in Il movimento religioso femminile in Umbria nei secoli XIII XIV: Atti del convegno internazionale di studio: Citt· di Castello 27-28-29 ottobre 1982, ed. Roberto Rusconi (Perugia: Regione dell'Umbria; Florence: La Nuova Italia, 1984), pp. 125-57. See also Anna Benvenuti Papi, "Penitenza e penitenti in Toscana: Stato della Questione e Prospettive della Ricerca," in Ricerche di Storia Sociale e Religiosa 17-18 (Rome: Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura and Editrice Ferraro, 1980), pp. 107-21; and idem "Donne religiose," pp. 41-82. At p. 112 n. 23 of "Penitenza e penitenti," Benvenuti Papi lists forty-four Florentine penitential women's communities, "corpuscoli semimonastici," for which the earliest surviving documentation falls between the thirteenth or early fourteenth centuries.

54 The popularity of Cavalca was enormous, accelerating through the fourteenth century and reaching its peak in the fifteenth. Over 500 manuscripts containing one or more of his original or translated works survive; over two hundred of these contain significant clusters of his Vite dei santi padri. The best edition of the Vite and the one used here is that edited by Bartolomeo Sorio with A. Racheli (Trieste: Lloyd Austriaco, 1858).
Fundamental for the fife and work of Cavalca is Delcorno's richly informative "Cavalca Domenico," pp. 577-86. For a descriptive census of Florentine manuscripts containing the Vite see idem, "Per l'edizione delle Vite dei santi padri del Cavalca: La tradizione manoscritta: i codici delle biblioteche fiorentine," Lettere Italiane 29 (1977): 265-89, and 30 (1978): 47-87. Although his principal interest is to note the influence of Guillaume Peyraut's (d. c. 1271) Summa de vitiis et virtutibus on Cavalca's Frutti della lingua, Renzo Lotti provides a useful summary of the state of Cavalca research in his "Sui Frutti della lingua del Cavalca," La Columberia 51, n.s. 37 (1986): 109-209, at pp. 110-21. Lotti's chronology of Cavalca's work, however, is less complete than Delcorno's in "Cavalca Domenico," at p. 578.
Cavalca's other translations include the Dialogo of Saint Gregory (c. 1329), Letter 22 of Saint Jerome (addressed to Eustochium), and the Atti degli apostoli. After completing his translations, Cavalca seems to have turned to compilations or treatises which drew heavily from his earlier translations together with translated passages from other popular Latin texts. In probable chronological order, these include: Specchio di Croce (in over l00 surviving manuscripts, his most original and popular composition); Medicina del cuore ovvero trattato della Pazienza; Specchio dei peccati (1333); Pungilingua; Frutti della lingua; Disciplina degli spirituali; Trattato delle trenta stoltzie; Esposizione del Simbolo degli Apostoli. Delcorno credits Cavalca with about 50 verse compositions which accompany his prose works; despite the density of vite and detti in the Epistola di san Girolamo ad Eustachio (or Libro dell Ammonizione), a work that was quickly attributed to Cavalca, Delcorno remains unpersuaded. See Delcorno, "Cavalca Domenico," p. 578.

55 On the sources of Vite dei santi padri, which include Jerome, Athanasius, Timothy of Alexandria as translated by Rufinus, Palladius, Evagius Ponticus, Pope Pelagius's collection of Verba Seniorum, Sulpicius Severus, Cassian, and James of Voragine, see Delcorno, "Cavalca Domenico," p. 580. Or, for more detail, Guy Philippart, "Vitae Patrum: Trois travaux rªcents sur d'anciennes traductions latines," Analecta Bollandiana 92, fast. 3-4 (1974): 353-65.

56 Cavalca concentrates on the accounts of the most famous desert mothers in his fourth and last section, assisting those later copyists and commissioners who wanted only female saints; for example, Rome, Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, Fondo San Pantaleo, 29 (dated July 2, 1455)

57 Cavalca's version of the Magdalen's life is one of his longest Vite and is found in Vite dei santi padri, ed. B. Sorio, pp. 329-86. 1 paraphrase from pp. 329-30. A comparison with James of Voragine's version in the Golden Legend, an utterly different reading, reveals Cavalca's charitable ease with both textual and social deviance.

58 Le meditazioni sulla Vita di Gesˆ Cristo, dated to the early fourteenth century and attributed to Giovanni de Caulibus, is a devotional work addressed to a woman associated with a Franciscan milieu in Umbria or Tuscany. See Isa Ragusa and R. B. Green, Meditations on the Life of Christ: An Illustrated Manuscript of the Fourteenth Century (Biblioth¿que Nationale, Paris, Ms. Ital. 115), trans. I. Ragusa (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1961).

59 For convertite, especially in Florence, of a later period, see Sherrill Cohen, "Asylums for Women in Counter-Reformation Italy," in Women in Reformation and Counter Reformation Europe: Public and Private Worlds, ed. Sherrin Marshall (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1989), pp. 16688; Sherrill Cohen, The Evolution of Women'sAsylums Since 1500 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992). For Milan, see Ruth Liebowitz, "Prison, Workshop and Convent: A House of Convertite in Counter-Reformation Milan," paper presented at the Sixth Berkshire Conference on the History of Women, Northampton, Massachusetts, i June 1984. Studying the depositions of 142 women interviewed by Carlo Borromeo's vicar in a 1579 apostolic visit conducted at Santa Valeria in Milan, Liebowitz notes the compulsory and degrading quality of sixteenth-century policies toward convertite, which left the women without freedom and without social or spiritual status.
For an attempt at functional specialization, see Richard Trexler, "A Widow's Asylum of the Renaissance: The Orbatello of Florence," in OldAge in Preindustrial Society, ed. Peter N. Sterns (New York: Holmes and Meir, 1983), pp. 119-49. For convertite and Rome, see Pamela Askew's very thoughtful chapter, "The Casa Pia: The Magdalen," in her Caravaggio's Death of the Virgin (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 199o), pp. 84-107. For institutions for girls at risk in early modern Rome, see Maria Elena Vasaio, "Il tessuto della virtˆ: Le zitelle di S. Eufemia e di S. Caterina dei Funari nella Controriforma," Memoria 11-12 (1984): 53-64.

60 For Cavalca's testament and the disputed date of death, see Delcorno, "Cavalca Domenico," p. 579. The previously cited inventories of Monteluce, Santa Lucia, Sant'Anna, and Corpus Domini all testify to the popularity of Cavalca in women's communities, especially his Vite and his Specchia di croce. See also the Roman manuscript Casanatense 4o4 (fifteenth century): "Questo libro e chiamato lo specchio della croce e delle donne de santa anna de fuligno."

61 Delcorno's article "Per (edizione delle Vite dei santi padri " offers a detailed census of Florentine manuscripts containing the Vite. From this list a number of fifteenth-century manuscripts can be securely connected to female use; as numbered by Delcorno they are #7, Redi 157 #16, Florence, Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, II i 115 (Magl. XXXVIII, 2), "questo libro ¿ delle monache di sancta Marta a montughi"; #18 Florence, BNC, III iii 89 (Magi. XXI, 123), "Questo libro · fatto scrivere mona ghostantia donna fu dj benedetto cicciaporci et quale libro · ffatto fare per consolatione dell'anima sua e secondariamente a chonsolazione delle sue figliuole " (subsequently owned by Constantia's daughters); #29, Florence BNC (Magl. XXXV, 217) bequeathed to the sisters of San Miniato ad Monte (Benedictine) by Monna Lionardo, who retained the use of it for her lifetime. To these we can probably add Rome, Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, San Pantaleo 29, dated July 2, 1455, which contains lives of holy women only. Even more examples are provided by Delcorno in "Cavalca Domenico." To these we may add the manuscript cited in Mattioli, Fra Giovanni da Salerno, p. 212, texts: "Iste liber est sororis Antonie filie olim domini Donati de Acciaolis Monialis istius monasterii sancti petri majoris de florentia."
The fifteenth-century Augustinian tertiary of Udine, Helen Valenti (d. 1458), was praised in a funeral oration by the Augustinian theologian Simon of Rome for always carrying with her a copy of Cavalca's Specchio di croce. For the oration, see BAV Rossiano 48, ff. 1a-26r; quoted by David Gutierrez, TheAugustinians in the Middle Ages, 1357-1517 (Villanova, PA: Augustinian Historical Institute, Villanova University, 1983), p. 215.

62 For experimentation and improvisation in response to a desire to live a religious life in Tre- and Quattrocento Umbria and Tuscany, see Mauro Ronzani, "Gli ordini mendicanti e le istituzioni ecclesiastiche presenti a Pisa nel Duecento,"
Mªlanges de l'Ecole Fran°aise de Rome: Moyen Age, Temps Modernes 89, 2 (1977): 667-77; idem, 'Penitenti e ordini mendicanti a Pisa sino all' inizio del Trecento," Mªlanges de l'÷cole Fran°aise de Rome: Moyen Age Temps Modernes 89, 2 (1977): 733-41. See also Anna Benvenuti Papi, "Fonti per la storia dei penitenti a Firenze nel XIII secolo," in L'ordine della penitenza di San Francesco, d'Assisi nel secolo XIII: Atti del convegno di studi francescani, ed. O. Sehmucki (Rome: Istituto Storico dei Capuccini,1973), pp. 279-301; idem, "I frati della penitenza nella societ· fiorentina del Due-Trecento," in I frati penitenti di San Francesco nella societ· del Due-Trecento: Atti del secondo convegno di studi francescani: Roma, 12-14 ottobre 1976, ed. Mariano D'Alatri (Rome: Analecta T.O.R., 1977), pp. 191-200; idem "Frati mendicanti e pinzochere in Toscana: dalla marginalit· sociale al modello di santit·," in Temi e problemi della mistica femminile trecentesca: Atti del XX convegno storico internazionale del Centro di Studi sulla spiritualit· medievale: Todi, ottobre 14-17 1979 (Rimini: Maggioli, 1983), pp. 107-35; and, "Le forme comunitarie della penitenza femminile francescana: Schede per un censimento toscano," in Prime manefestazioni di vita comunitaria maschile e femminile nel movimento francescano della penitenza (1215-1447): Atti del convegno di studi francescani: Assisi, 30 giugno-2 luglio 1981, ed. Raffaele Pazzelli and Lino Temperini (Rome: Commissione Storica Internazionale T.O.R., 1982), pp. 389-450. Additional bibliography can be found in n. 54 above.

63 Anna Benvenuti Papi presents the variety of religious forms of life in the late medieval period as confused and yielding "anarchy"; see n. 61 above and her essays in "In castro poenitentiae": Santit· e societ· femminile nell'Italia medievale. 1 am more in sympathy with the assessment of Giovanna Casagrande, who views this as a period of energy, institutional creativity, and conscientious lay leadership; see especially her Introduction to Chiese e conventi degli Ordini Mendicanti in Umbria nei secoli XIII e XIV: Inventario delle fonti archivistiche e catalogo delle informazioni documentarie: Gli archivi ecclesiastici di Citt· di Castello, ed. Giovanna Casagrande (Archivi dell'Umbria: Inventari e Ricerche, no. 12) (Perugia: Regione dell'Umbria and Editrice Umbra Cooperativa, 1987). Here, on pp. xxvii-xxviii, in contrast with Benventuti Papi, Casagrande characterizes the collective experiments of late medieval Italy as continuous and dynamic "una situazione incostante movimento." See also Casagrande's "Forme di vita religiosa," where, in contrast to Benvenuti Papi, she concludes that through lay communities women found more room to maneuver: "un loro spazio e margini di autonomia" (p. 157).

64 Delcorno, "Cavalca Domenico," p. 58o: "Lo stile del Cavalca coglie adeguatamente la dolcezza fiabesca che emana da queste `short stories' del deserto."

65 As the vita of a Marie d'Oignies or an Umiliava da Cerchi might serve as a model and substitute as a rule for religious women living outside a traditional institution, so Cavalca's translation could also function as both apology and model for extramural monasticism. His work, however, seems to me to stand in contrast to the hagiographies of holy women which "clericalized" women's religiosity with their focus on asceticism, the eucharist, and obedience. For a discussion of maleauthored hagiography as an effort to control through models see, among others, Andrª Vauchez, La saintetª en occident aux derniers si¿cles du moyen «ge, d'apr¿s les proc¿s de canonisation et les documents hagiographiques (Rome: Ecole Fran°aise de Rome; Paris: Diffusion de Boccard, 1981), pp. 435-49, 472-79; and Anna Benvenuti Papi, "Umiliava dei Cerchi: Nascita di un culto nella Firenze del Dugento," Studi Francescani 77 (1980): 87-117. A more subtle reading of clerical authors and their female subjects is offered by John Coakley in, among other articles, his "Friars as Confidants of Holy Women in Medieval Dominican Hagiography," in Images of Sainthood in Medieval Europe, ed. Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinski and Timea Szell (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1991), pp. 222-46; and Coakley, "Gender and the Authority of Friars: The Significance of Holy Women for Thirteenth Century Franciscans and Dominicans," Church History 60 (1991): +45-6o

66 Delcorno, "Per l'edizione," manuscript #18.

67 "For the strengthening of her soul and, secondarily the spiritual fortification and comfort of her daughters (by blood or affection)." R. Gu¿te, "Confraternite di S. Agostino, S. Francesco e San Domenico," in Il movimento dei disciplinati nel VII centenario dal sua initio (Perugia -1260), Convegno internazionale: Perugia, 2S -28 settembre 1960, Bollettino della Deputazione di Storia Patria per l'Umbria, Appendice 9 (1962), pp. 597-623, at p. 621. The intense interest of Italian confraternities in vernacular translations is seconded by Esnos, "Les traductions."

68 BAV Vat. lat. 11259 contains a collection of 18 letters of spiritual encouragement (16 addressed to women) dating from the first half of the fifteenth century. These are laden with quotations from Cavalca. On this collection see the excellent study by Genevi¿ve Hasenohr Esnos, "Un recueil inªdit de lettres de direction spirituelle du XVe si¿cle: le manuscrit Vat. lat. 11259 de la Biblioth¿que Vaticane," Mªlanges d'Archªologie et d'Histoire (÷cole Fran°aise de Rome) 82 (1970): 401-50o.

69 Delcorno, Giordano da Pisa, pp. 241-88, where the author gives a list of seventy exempla extracted from Giordano's sermons, a notable number of which derive from the Vitae patrum. Other examples of the use of the Vitae can be found in the sermons published by Carla Casagrande, Predice alle donne del secolo XIII: Testi di Umberto da Romans, Gilberto da Tournai, Stefano di Borbone (Milan: Bompiani, 1978). Raymond Creytens, "L'instruction des novices dominicains au XIII si¿cle," Archivum Fratrum Praedicatorum 20 (1950): 149 n.

70 Sergio Andreoli, "Gli esempi della B. Angela nel Memoriale di fr. Arnaldo," L'Italia Francescana 58 (1983): 435-52.

71 De Luca, Volgarizzamenti, 3: 528. "Diceva: I buoni antichi deono essere poppe degli altri e de' novelli; deonli lattare e nutrire, e sostenerli con benignit· e dolcezza.". . . "Diceva: Quando uno si vuol far frate, d·gli aiuto, e non consiglio." Another example is Fra Silvestro, who worked in the kitchen of a monastery: "Noi siamo dentro come la cipolla, che levato l'uno scolio, si trova l'altro" (ibid.). Scolio (or spolia) can have here the sense of either earthly husk or protective and resistant armor.

72 Francesco da Barberino, Reggimento e costumi di donna, ed. G. Sansone (Torino: 1957), Loescher-Chiantore 202 (work completed 1318-20). See also the passage from Ubertino da Casale's Arbor vitae crucifixe Jesu, cited in n. 43 above. For holy women as advisors: Benvenuti Papi, "Umiliana dei Cerchi," idem, "Margarita filia Jerusalem: Santa Margherita da Cortona ed il superamento mistico della crociata," in Toscana e Terrasanta nel Medioevo, ed. F. Cardini (Florence: Sanson 1982), pp. 117-38; idem, "Velut in sepulchro: Cellane e recluse nella tradizione agiografica italiana," in Culto dei santi, istituzioni e classi sociali in et· preindustriale, pp. 4-14--27.

73 "Parla per carit· e parlerai per teologia. Sensa grammatica se intende la Scriptura, cio¿ per uno certo lume di Dio. La grammatica non ¿ altro se no uno lenguaggio." See Nicolini, "I minori osservanti di Monteripido," p. 122, where he publishes "The sayings of beato Giovanni Bonvisi da Lucca."

74 Paris, Biblioth¿que Nationale, Latin 3341, ff. 229r-235r (St. Monica), ff. 240r-247r (St. Nicol· of Tolentino), and ff. 277r-293r (St. Bernardino); BAV, Vat, lat. 2110, ff. 124-28 (St. Bernardino); BAV, Ottoboniano lat. 903, ff: 19-33 (St. Bernardino); BAV, Ottoboniano lat. 1253, ff. 71-119 (St. Monica and St. Nicol· of Tolentino); and BAV Urb. lat. 59, ff. 307-14 (St. Monica).

75 Clara Gennaro, "Venturino da Bergamo e la peregrinatio romana del 1335," in Studi sul Medioevo Cristiano offerti a Raffaele Morghen (Rome: Istituto Storico Italiano per il Medioevo, 1974), pp. 376-406, at pp. 400-401.

76 Vittorio Coletti, Parole dal pulpito: Chiesa e movimento religiosi tra latino e volgare nell'Italia del Medioevo e del Rinascimento (Casale Monferrato: Marietti, 1983), see especially pp. 73-80, where the author provides a multitude of quotations demonstrating anxieties of preachers and translators about the dangers of giving (or even attempting to give) vernacular speakers an expanded vocabulary for religious thought and formulations.

77 Grundmann, pp. 407-8.

78 Delcorno, "Predicazione volgare e volgarizzamenti."

79 For example, the ad status model of Humbert of Romans: Predice alle donne del secolo XIII: Testi di Umberto da Romans, Gilberto da Tournai, Stefano di Borbone, ed. Carla Casagrande (Milan: Bompiani, 1978), p. 53. For similar annoyed observations by Giordano of Pisa regarding womns' disinterest in preachers, see Delcorno, Giordano da Pisa, p. 52.

80 See Delcorno, Giordano da Pisa, pp. 49-51, 224, for institutionally indifferent or hostile religious groups who have created their own religious subculture. For women as mediators and readers of Scripture, see pp. 51, 70

81 See Giordano's sermon in Orsanmichele, the home of the confraternity that supported female penitent communities throughout the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries (11 April 1305): "E perû non si dee fare ogni uomo predicatore; a chi predica, e no gli ¿ commesso, e non essendo da ciû, pecca gravemente. Non ¿ commesso ad ogni uomo l'ufficio del predicare; chª innanzi innanzi, a tutte le femine ¿ vietato in tutto e per tutto." De Luca, Testi originali, vol. 1, p. 23.

82 "Sono alcune persone a le quali forse che non pare ben fatto ch'io abbia facto questo spetialmente a pettitione di femine. Alle quali (persone) si potrebbe rispondere per molti modi chi volesse disputatre, contendere et litigare. Ma queste cotali persone non pare che sappiano o vero non pensano che in alcune contrade ¿ volgarizzata tutta la Bibbia et molti libri di sancti et di dottori. Et sancto Jeromimo molte scripture translatû da una lengua ad un altra per consolatione di alcune sue figliuole. Et Christo nostro salvatore, non credo che abbia meno caro le femine che gli uomini, e credo che saranno salve tante femine quanti huomini, et quanto la persona e plu ignorante et fragile, tanto con maggiore compassione dee essere aiutata se desidera l'aiutorio et vuollo." Mattioli, Fra Giovanni da Salerno, p. 309

83 Giovanni argues that if Simone Fidati, who prepared Latin versions of what Giovanni translated, were still alive he would be doing in person what Giovanni does in writing. Giovanni avers that he is not a good preacher, so he must replace the oral translation of preaching, with the written volgarizzamento. See Mattioli, Fra Giovanni da Salerno, pp. 304-12.

84 For the following section I am especially indebted to Daniel Russo's Saint Jerome en Italie: ªtude d'iconographie et de spiritualitª XIII XVI si¿cles (Rome and Paris: ÷cole Fran°aise de Rome, 1987); additionally, Eugene F. Rice, Jr., Saint Jerome in the Renaissance (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1985). The increased interest in Jerome in Italy radiated out from the Dominican studia, and takes us back again to Cavalca. For Russo's discussion of this "rediscovery" as a competitive response to Franciscan preaching and information relevant to Cavalca, see Saint Jerome en Italie, pp. 42-5o.

85 Jerome, Epistle 22, 7, The Principal Works of St. Jerome, trans. W H. Fremantle, with G. Lewis and W G. Martley, in the Select Library of Nicene and PostNicene Fathers of the Christian Church, 2d series, vol. 6: St. Jerome: Letters and Select Works (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1989, rpt. from 1892 ed.).

86 Jerome, Epistle 48, 4.

87 The epithet "chaparon d'apocryphes" comes from Pierre Salmon, Analecta Liturgica: Extraits des manuscrits liturgiques de la biblioth¿que Vaticane, contribution · l'histoire de la pri¿re chrªtienne (Vaticano City: Biblioteca Vaticana, 1974), p. 81; for Jerome and the abridged psalter, see pp. 76-82.
On the related career of Pseudo-Augustine see, in addition to Esnos, "Les traductions," Andrª Wilmart's fundamental "Les mªditations sur le Saint-Esprit attribuªes · saint Augustin," in Auteurs spirituels et textes dªvots du Moyen ®ge Latin: ªtudes d'histoire littªraire (Paris: Bloud et Gay, 1932), pp. 415-56.
For more evidence of the frequency with which popular religious texts originate in a female religious context, see D. M. Shepard, "Conventual Use of St. Anselm's Prayers and Meditation," Rutgers Art Review 9-10 (1988-89): 1-15; see also n. 97 herein.

88 For example, see the immensely popular Ammonizione addressed to Eustochium (and sometimes Paula, too), which proffered a series of masculine desert models taken from Cavalca's Vite.

89 So recorded Jerome, when he set about cataloging his own literary corpus in De viribus illustris; see Principal Works, p. xxviii.

90 B. Capelle, "La F’te de l'Assomption dans l'histoire liturgique," Ephemerides Theologicae Lovanienses 3 (1926): 33-45; and A. Ripberger, Der PseudoHieronymus-Brief IX "Cogitus me". Ein erster marianischer Traktat des Mittelalters von Paschasius Radbert (Fribourg: ÷ditions Universitaires Fribourg, 1962); A. Ripberger, ed., De assumptione Santae Mariae Virginis, Corpus Christianorum. Continuatio Mediaevalis, 56C (Turnholt: Brepols, 1985).

91 See Salmon, Analecta Liturgica, for the abridged psalter attributed to Saint Jerome, pp. 76-82. The earliest Vatican manuscript dates from the eleventh century. The abridged psalter, with the incipit Verba mea auribus, was initially faithful to biblical text in its selections; increasing liberties were taken with the texts of later manuscripts.
Like Jerome, Augustine had a powerful pseudonymous presence in the medieval literary imagination, shaped largely by texts addressed to women.

92 "Martyrologium Hieronymianum," ed. Henri Quentin and Hippolyte Delehaye in Acta sanctorum, Novembris Il.ii (Brussels, 1931).

93 A pocket-sized scroll, a long strip of parchment now in the Newberry Library, displays the verses of a fourteenth-century laude, one of which reads: Poscia et tuo tutto a dio donasti
Vergini, coniugate et continente Con splendida dottrina illuminasti. (Chicago: Newberry Library, Ms. 122, dated 1350-1400). My thanks to Paul Gehl for calling my attention to this new acquisition.

94 Petrus Brocardo, Gerolamo da Siena O.SA. (133Ž-142o): la vita-le opere-la dottrina spirituale, partial publication of dissertation, Theological Faculty of the Gregorian University in Rome (Turin: Pontificia Universitas Gregoriana, 1952).

95 Giovanni Dominici, Lettere spirituali, ed. M. T. Casella and G. Pozzi, Spicilegium Friburgense 13 (Fribourg: Editions Universitaires Fribourg, 1969).

96 Maria Ludovica Lenzi, Donne e madonne: L'educazione femminile nel primo Rinascimento italiano (Turin: Loescher Editore, 1982), p. 165

97 On Pseudo-Augustine, see Wilmart, "Les mªditations sur le SaintEsprit"; idem, "Deux prªfaces spirituelles de Jean de Fªcamp," Revue d'Ascªtique (1937): 3-44, 394-403; and J. Leclercq and Jean Paul Bonne, Jean de Fªcamp (Paris: J. Vrin, 1946).

98 For examples and additional bibliography, see Roberto Rusconi, "De la prªdication · la confession: transmission et contrüle de mod¿les de comportement au XIIIe si¿cle," in Faire croire: modalitªs de la diffusion et de la rªception des messages
religieux de XIIe au XVe si¿cle (Rome: ÷cole Fran°aise de Rome, 1981), pp. 67-85; Lester K. Little, "Les Techniques de la confession et al confession comme technique," in Faire croire, pp. 87-99; Benvenuti Papi, "Umiliana dei Cerchi"; and, at great length, Jean Delumeau, Sin and Fear: The Emergence of a Western Guilt Culture, 13th-18th Centuries, trans. Eric Nicholson (New York: St. Martin's, 1990).

99 De Luca, Testi Originali, vol. I, pp. 109, 104.

100 Simone da Cascina, Colloquio spirituale, pp. vi, 1-7.

101 For dialogue as a non-authoritarian and ideologically inclusive literary genre, see Jon R. Snyder, Writing the Scene of Speaking: Theories of Dialogue in the Late Italian Renaissance (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1989), esp. chap. 1 Another example of a work written by a friar for a women's religious community and framed as a dialogue that includes a member of its audience as one of the interlocutors is Il trattato di Terra Santa e dell'Oriente dir. Francesco Suriano, ed. G. Golubovich (Milan: Tipografia Editrice Artigianelli, 1900). Francesco Suriano, originally of Venice, wrote up his travels to the Holy Land at the request of the women of Santa Lucia in Foligno, one of whom was his sister Suore Sista, who propels the narrative with her questions. Women at Santa Lucia also copied and disseminated this work.
A similar work and similar conditions are represented by the Itinerario in Terra Santa, addressed to the community of San Bernardino in Padua by Gabrielle Capodilista. The convent of Corpus Domini in Bologna, an Observant Franciscan community like San Bernardino and Santa Lucia, had a copy of Capodilista's Itinerario in Terra Santa; see Spanû Martinelli, "La biblioteca del `Corpus Domini,"' p. 3 n. 5 and p. 16, where she notes that many Observant women's communities owned this work either in manuscript or in the popular incunabulum edition published in Perugia by Johann Wyndenast, Pietro di Colonia, and Giovanni di Bamberg (c. 1475)
One has to wonder at the coincidence of the appearance of these popular travel accounts in women's communities, all of which were formerly unenclosed, during a period in which the Observant friars were working hard to impose cloister on all Third Order Communities. Pilgrimage had been a very prominent feature of the female penitential life throughout the preceding two centuries.

102 Simone da Cascina, Colloquio spirituale, pp. 35-40 and passim.

103 Simone da Cascina, Colloquia spirituale, pp. 32-35

104 Simone da Cascina, Colloquia spirituale, p. 171. On this liturgical prayer, which was gaining in popularity just as Simone da Cascina was writing, see Andrª Wilmart, "La tradition littªraire et textuelle de l'Adoro to devote" in Auteurs spirituels et textes divots, pp. 361-414; and a response by F. J. E. Raby, "The Date and Authorship of the Poem Adoro te devote," Speculum 20 (1945): 236-38.

105 Simone da Cascina, Colloquia spirituale, pp. 175-77. Here the Fraticello attempts to efface gender with what can be read as a reflexive move to grant authority to the Monachetta's words. This is interesting since mystic speech is so frequently associated with women. This disassociation of speaker from speech, together with the fact that the Monachetta here does not speak to her audience but lets them overhear a contemplative conversation, corroborates the anxieties of gender and strategies of representation noted by John Coakley; see above, note 65.

106 Da Cascina, Colloquia spirituale, p. 220.

107 Michael Baxendall, Painting and Experience in Fifteenth Century Italy: A Primer of the Social History of Pictorial Style (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1972), esp. chap. 2.

108 See the letters of BAV Vat. lat. 11259, and those of Giovanni dalle Celle, Giovanni Colombini, Giovanni Dominici, and Girolamo da Siena. Both Colombini and Dominici indicate at several points that their female audience offers them the opportunity to express thoughts and feelings that offer at least as much "consolation" to the writer as to the women addressed.

109 Coletti, Parole dal pulpito, pp. 10I-6.

110 Giovanni Boccaccio, The Elegy of Lady Fiametta, ed. Mariangela CausaSteiner and Thomas Mauch (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990), p. 1

111 De Luca, Testi Originali, vol. I, p. 110.

112 De Luca, Testi Originali, vol. I, p.

113 See note 3 above.

114 Gabriella Zarri, "Le sante vive," in Le sante vive (note 12 above), pp. 87-164.