No More Learning

"It must be confessed," said the Legate to
Petrarch, "that your country is more beautiful than ours. " The face of
Petrarch brightened up. "But you must agree," continued the Cardinal,
perhaps to moderate the poet's exultation, "that ours is more tranquil. "
"That is true," replied Petrarch, "but we can obtain tranquillity
whenever we choose to come to our senses, and desire peace, whereas you
cannot procure those beauties which nature has lavished _on us_. "

Petrarch here took leave of the Cardinal, and set out for Parma. Taking
Mantua in his way, he set out from thence in the evening, in order to
sleep at Luzora, five leagues from the Po. The lords of that city had
sent a courier to Mantua, desiring that he would honour them with his
presence at supper. The melting snows and the overflowing river had made
the roads nearly impassable; but he reached the place in time to avail
himself of the invitation. His hosts gave him a magnificent reception.
The supper was exquisite, the dishes rare, the wines delicious, and the
company full of gaiety. But a small matter, however, will spoil the
finest feast. The supper was served up in a damp, low hall, and all
sorts of insects annoyed the convivials. To crown their misfortune an
army of frogs, attracted, no doubt, by the odour of the meats, crowded
and croaked about them, till they were obliged to leave their unfinished
supper.

Petrarch returned next day for Parma. We find, from the original
fragments of his poems, brought to light by Ubaldini, that he was
occupied in retouching them during the summer which he passed at Parma,
waiting for the termination of the excessive heats, to go to Rome and
attend the jubilee.
With a view to make the journey pleasanter, he
invited Guglielmo di Pastrengo to accompany him, in a letter written in
Latin verse. Nothing would have delighted Guglielmo more than a journey
to Rome with Petrarch; but he was settled at Verona, and could not
absent himself from his family.

In lieu of Pastrengo, Petrarch found a respectable old abbot, and
several others who were capable of being agreeable, and from their
experience, useful companions to him on the road. In the middle of
October, 1350, they departed from Florence for Rome, to attend the
jubilee. On his way between Bolsena and Viterbo, he met with an accident
which threatened dangerous consequences, and which he relates in a
letter to Boccaccio.

"On the 15th of October," he says, "we left Bolsena, a little town
scarcely known at present; but interesting from having been anciently
one of the principal places in Etruria. Occupied with the hopes of
seeing Rome in five days, I reflected on the changes in our modes of
thinking which are made by the course of years. Fourteen years ago I
repaired to the great city from sheer curiosity to see its wonders. The
second time I came was to receive the laurel. My third and fourth
journey had no object but to render services to my persecuted friends.
My present visit ought to be more happy, since its only object is my
eternal salvation. " It appears, however, that the horses of the
travellers had no such devotional feelings; "for," he continues, "whilst
my mind was full of these thoughts, the horse of the old abbot, which
was walking upon my left, kicking at my horse, struck me upon the leg,
just below the knee. The blow was so violent that it sounded as if a
bone was broken. My attendants came up. I felt an acute pain, which made
me, at first, desirous of stopping; but, fearing the dangerousness of
the place, I made a virtue of necessity, and went on to Viterbo, where
we arrived very late on the 16th of October. Three days afterwards they
dragged me to Rome with much trouble.