Here they learned that a troop of horse and foot had
been waiting for them in ambush near Scandiano, but had been forced by
the bad weather to withdraw before their arrival; thus "_the pelting of
the pitiless storm_" had been to them a merciful occurrence.
been waiting for them in ambush near Scandiano, but had been forced by
the bad weather to withdraw before their arrival; thus "_the pelting of
the pitiless storm_" had been to them a merciful occurrence.
Petrarch
As to myself, I will quit this inhuman country before three
days are past, and hasten to you who can make all things agreeable to me
except a sea-voyage. "
Petrarch at length brought his negotiations respecting the prisoners to
a successful issue; and they were released by the express authority of
Andrew. Our poet's presence being no longer necessary, he left Naples,
in spite of the strong solicitations of his friends Barrilli and
Barbato. In answer to their request that he would remain, he said, "I
am but a satellite, and follow the directions of a superior planet;
quiet and repose are denied to me. "
From Naples he went to Parma, where Azzo Correggio, with his wonted
affection, pressed him to delay; and Petrarch accepted the invitation,
though he remarked with sorrow that harmony no longer reigned among the
brothers of the family. He stopped there, however, for some time, and
enjoyed such tranquillity that he could revise and polish his
compositions. But, in the following year, 1345, his friend Azzo, having
failed to keep his promise to Luchino Visconti, as to restoring to him
the lordship of Parma--Azzo had obtained it by the assistance of the
Visconti, who avenged himself by making war on the Correggios--he
invested Parma, and afflicted it with a tedious siege. Petrarch,
foreseeing little prospect of pursuing his studies quietly in a
beleaguered city, left the place with a small number of his companions;
but, about midnight, near Rheggio, a troop of robbers rushed from an
ambuscade, with cries of "Kill! kill! " and our handful of travellers,
being no match for a host of brigands, fled and sought to save
themselves under favour of night. Petrarch, during this flight, was
thrown from his horse. The shock was so violent that he swooned; but he
recovered, and was remounted by his companions. They had not got far,
however, when a violent storm of rain and lightning rendered their
situation almost as bad as that from which they had escaped, and
threatened them with death in another shape. They passed a dreadful
night without finding a tree or the hollow of a rock to shelter them,
and had no expedient for mitigating their exposure to the storm but to
turn their horses' backs to the tempest.
When the dawn permitted them to discern a path amidst the brushwood,
they pushed on to Scandiano, a castle occupied by the Gonzaghi, friends
of the lords of Parma, which they happily reached, and where they were
kindly received.
Here they learned that a troop of horse and foot had
been waiting for them in ambush near Scandiano, but had been forced by
the bad weather to withdraw before their arrival; thus "_the pelting of
the pitiless storm_" had been to them a merciful occurrence. Petrarch
made no delay here, for he was smarting under the bruises from his fall,
but caused himself to be tied upon his horse, and went to repose at
Modena. The next day he repaired to Bologna, where he stopped a short
time for surgical assistance, and whence he sent a letter to his friend
Barbato, describing his misadventure; but, unable to hold a pen himself,
he was obliged to employ the hand of a stranger. He was so impatient,
however, to get back to Avignon, that he took the road to it as soon as
he could sit his horse. On approaching that city he says he felt a
greater softness in the air, and saw with delight the flowers that adorn
the neighbouring woods. Everything seemed to announce the vicinity of
Laura. It was seldom that Petrarch spoke so complacently of Avignon.
Clement VI. received Petrarch with the highest respect, offered him his
choice among several vacant bishoprics, and pressed him to receive the
office of pontifical secretary. He declined the proffered secretaryship.
Prizing his independence above all things, excepting Laura, he remarked
to his friends that the yoke of office would not sit lighter on him for
being gilded.
In consequence of the dangers he had encountered, a rumour of his death
had spread over a great part of Italy. The age was romantic, with a good
deal of the fantastical in its romance. If the news had been true, and
if he had been really dead and buried, it would be difficult to restrain
a smile at the sort of honours that were paid to his memory by the less
brain-gifted portion of his admirers. One of these, Antonio di Beccaria,
a physician of Ferrara, when he ought to have been mourning for his own
deceased patients, wrote a poetical lamentation for Petrarch's death.
The poem, if it deserve such a name, is allegorical; it represents a
funeral, in which the following personages parade in procession and
grief for the Laureate's death.
days are past, and hasten to you who can make all things agreeable to me
except a sea-voyage. "
Petrarch at length brought his negotiations respecting the prisoners to
a successful issue; and they were released by the express authority of
Andrew. Our poet's presence being no longer necessary, he left Naples,
in spite of the strong solicitations of his friends Barrilli and
Barbato. In answer to their request that he would remain, he said, "I
am but a satellite, and follow the directions of a superior planet;
quiet and repose are denied to me. "
From Naples he went to Parma, where Azzo Correggio, with his wonted
affection, pressed him to delay; and Petrarch accepted the invitation,
though he remarked with sorrow that harmony no longer reigned among the
brothers of the family. He stopped there, however, for some time, and
enjoyed such tranquillity that he could revise and polish his
compositions. But, in the following year, 1345, his friend Azzo, having
failed to keep his promise to Luchino Visconti, as to restoring to him
the lordship of Parma--Azzo had obtained it by the assistance of the
Visconti, who avenged himself by making war on the Correggios--he
invested Parma, and afflicted it with a tedious siege. Petrarch,
foreseeing little prospect of pursuing his studies quietly in a
beleaguered city, left the place with a small number of his companions;
but, about midnight, near Rheggio, a troop of robbers rushed from an
ambuscade, with cries of "Kill! kill! " and our handful of travellers,
being no match for a host of brigands, fled and sought to save
themselves under favour of night. Petrarch, during this flight, was
thrown from his horse. The shock was so violent that he swooned; but he
recovered, and was remounted by his companions. They had not got far,
however, when a violent storm of rain and lightning rendered their
situation almost as bad as that from which they had escaped, and
threatened them with death in another shape. They passed a dreadful
night without finding a tree or the hollow of a rock to shelter them,
and had no expedient for mitigating their exposure to the storm but to
turn their horses' backs to the tempest.
When the dawn permitted them to discern a path amidst the brushwood,
they pushed on to Scandiano, a castle occupied by the Gonzaghi, friends
of the lords of Parma, which they happily reached, and where they were
kindly received.
Here they learned that a troop of horse and foot had
been waiting for them in ambush near Scandiano, but had been forced by
the bad weather to withdraw before their arrival; thus "_the pelting of
the pitiless storm_" had been to them a merciful occurrence. Petrarch
made no delay here, for he was smarting under the bruises from his fall,
but caused himself to be tied upon his horse, and went to repose at
Modena. The next day he repaired to Bologna, where he stopped a short
time for surgical assistance, and whence he sent a letter to his friend
Barbato, describing his misadventure; but, unable to hold a pen himself,
he was obliged to employ the hand of a stranger. He was so impatient,
however, to get back to Avignon, that he took the road to it as soon as
he could sit his horse. On approaching that city he says he felt a
greater softness in the air, and saw with delight the flowers that adorn
the neighbouring woods. Everything seemed to announce the vicinity of
Laura. It was seldom that Petrarch spoke so complacently of Avignon.
Clement VI. received Petrarch with the highest respect, offered him his
choice among several vacant bishoprics, and pressed him to receive the
office of pontifical secretary. He declined the proffered secretaryship.
Prizing his independence above all things, excepting Laura, he remarked
to his friends that the yoke of office would not sit lighter on him for
being gilded.
In consequence of the dangers he had encountered, a rumour of his death
had spread over a great part of Italy. The age was romantic, with a good
deal of the fantastical in its romance. If the news had been true, and
if he had been really dead and buried, it would be difficult to restrain
a smile at the sort of honours that were paid to his memory by the less
brain-gifted portion of his admirers. One of these, Antonio di Beccaria,
a physician of Ferrara, when he ought to have been mourning for his own
deceased patients, wrote a poetical lamentation for Petrarch's death.
The poem, if it deserve such a name, is allegorical; it represents a
funeral, in which the following personages parade in procession and
grief for the Laureate's death.
