When they reached the
territory
of
Verona, near the lake of Guarda, they were struck by the beauty of the
prospect, and stopped to contemplate it.
Verona, near the lake of Guarda, they were struck by the beauty of the
prospect, and stopped to contemplate it.
Petrarch
Can you fear at present to enter a country where you
have triumphed since your childhood?
"By the singular favour of Heaven we have regained the ancient right of
being governed by a prince of our own nation. [L] Let Germany say what
she will, Italy is veritably your country * * * * * Come with haste to
restore peace to Italy. Behold Rome, once the empress of the world, now
pale, with scattered locks and torn garments, at your feet, imploring
your presence and support! " Then follows a dissertation on the history
and heroes of Rome, which might be wearisome if transcribed to a modern
reader. But the epistle, upon the whole, is manly and eloquent.
A few days after despatching his letter to the Emperor, Petrarch made a
journey to Verona to see his friends. There he wrote to Socrates. In
this letter, after enumerating the few friends whom the plague had
spared, he confesses that he could not flatter himself with the hope of
being able to join them in Provence. He therefore invokes them to come
to Italy, and to settle either at Parma or at Padua, or any other place
that would suit them. His remaining friends, here enumerated, were only
Barbato of Sulmona, Francesco Rinucci, John Boccaccio, Laelius, Guido
Settimo, and Socrates.
Petrarch had returned to Padua, there to rejoin the Cardinal of
Boulogne. The Cardinal came back thither at the end of April, 1350, and,
after dispensing his blessings, spiritual and temporal, set out for
Avignon, travelling by way of Milan and Genoa. Petrarch accompanied the
prelate out of personal attachment on a part of his journey. The
Cardinal was fond of his conversation, but sometimes rallied the poet on
his enthusiasm for his native Italy.
When they reached the territory of
Verona, near the lake of Guarda, they were struck by the beauty of the
prospect, and stopped to contemplate it. In the distance were the Alps,
topped with snow even in summer. Beneath was the lake of Guarda, with
its flux and reflux, like the sea, and around them were the rich hills
and fertile valleys. "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.
have triumphed since your childhood?
"By the singular favour of Heaven we have regained the ancient right of
being governed by a prince of our own nation. [L] Let Germany say what
she will, Italy is veritably your country * * * * * Come with haste to
restore peace to Italy. Behold Rome, once the empress of the world, now
pale, with scattered locks and torn garments, at your feet, imploring
your presence and support! " Then follows a dissertation on the history
and heroes of Rome, which might be wearisome if transcribed to a modern
reader. But the epistle, upon the whole, is manly and eloquent.
A few days after despatching his letter to the Emperor, Petrarch made a
journey to Verona to see his friends. There he wrote to Socrates. In
this letter, after enumerating the few friends whom the plague had
spared, he confesses that he could not flatter himself with the hope of
being able to join them in Provence. He therefore invokes them to come
to Italy, and to settle either at Parma or at Padua, or any other place
that would suit them. His remaining friends, here enumerated, were only
Barbato of Sulmona, Francesco Rinucci, John Boccaccio, Laelius, Guido
Settimo, and Socrates.
Petrarch had returned to Padua, there to rejoin the Cardinal of
Boulogne. The Cardinal came back thither at the end of April, 1350, and,
after dispensing his blessings, spiritual and temporal, set out for
Avignon, travelling by way of Milan and Genoa. Petrarch accompanied the
prelate out of personal attachment on a part of his journey. The
Cardinal was fond of his conversation, but sometimes rallied the poet on
his enthusiasm for his native Italy.
When they reached the territory of
Verona, near the lake of Guarda, they were struck by the beauty of the
prospect, and stopped to contemplate it. In the distance were the Alps,
topped with snow even in summer. Beneath was the lake of Guarda, with
its flux and reflux, like the sea, and around them were the rich hills
and fertile valleys. "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.
