her from their studies.

Of the learned El Muallima we are told that she transplanted Karaite
doctrines from the Orient to Castile, where she propagated them. The
daughter of the prince of poets, Yehuda Halevi, is accredited with a
soulful religious poem hitherto attributed to her father, and Rabbi
Joseph ibn Nagdela's wife was esteemed the most learned and
representative woman in Granada. Even in the choir of Arabic-Andalusian
poets we hear the voice of a Jewish songstress, Kasmune, the daughter
of the poet Ishmael. Only a few blossoms of her delicate poetry have
been preserved.[31] Catching sight of her young face in the mirror, she
called out:

"A vine I see, and though 'tis time to glean,
No hand is yet stretched forth to cull the fruit.
Alas! my youth doth pass in sorrow keen,
A nameless 'him' my eyes in vain salute."

Her pet gazelle, raised by herself, she addresses thus:

"In only thee, my timid, fleet gazelle,
Dark-eyed like thee, I see my counterpart;
We both live lone, without companion dwell,
Accepting fate's decree with patient heart."

Of other women we are told whose learning and piety inspired respect,
not only in Talmudic authorities, but, more than that, in their sisters
in faith. Especially in the family of Rashi (Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac),
immortal through his commentaries on the Bible and the Talmud, a number
of women distinguished themselves. His daughter Rachel (Bellejeune), on
one occasion when her father was sick, wrote out for Rabbi Abraham Cohen
of Mayence an opinion on religious questions in dispute. Rashi's two
granddaughters, Anna and Miriam, were equally famous. In questions
relating to the dietary laws, they were cited as authorities, and their
decisions accepted as final.

Zunz calls the wife of Rabbi Joseph ben Jochanan of Paris "almost a
rabbi"; and Dolce, wife of the learned Rabbi Eleazar of Worms, supported
her family with the work of her hands, was a thorough student of the
dietary laws, taught women on Jewish subjects, and on Sabbath delivered
public lectures. She wore the twofold crown of learning and martyrdom.
On December 6, 1213, fanatic crusaders rushed into the rabbi's house,
and most cruelly killed her and her two daughters, Bella and Anna.

Israel having again fallen on evil times, the rarity of women writers
during the next two centuries needs no explanation. In the sixteenth
century their names reappear on the records, not o