He thus relates it, in a letter to his friend,
Neri Morandi:--"I have a great volume of the epistles of Cicero, which I
have taken the pains to transcribe myself, for the copyists understand
nothing.
Neri Morandi:--"I have a great volume of the epistles of Cicero, which I
have taken the pains to transcribe myself, for the copyists understand
nothing.
Petrarch
I think I may
flatter myself that he will be an honest man. He has talent; but what
avails talent without study! He flies from a book as he would from a
serpent. Persuasions, caresses, and threats are all thrown away upon him
as incitements to study. I have nothing wherewith to reproach myself;
and I shall be satisfied if he turns out an honest man, as I hope he
will. Themistocles used to say that he liked a man without letters
better than letters without a man. "
In the month of August, 1357, Petrarch received a letter from
Benintendi, the Chancellor of Venice, requesting him to send a dozen
elegiac verses to be engraved on the tomb of Andrea Dandolo. The
children of the Doge had an ardent wish that our poet should grant them
this testimony of his friendship for their father. Petrarch could not
refuse the request, and composed fourteen verses, which contain a sketch
of the great actions of Dandolo. But they were verses of command, which
the poet made in despite of the Muses and of himself.
In the following year, 1358, Petrarch was almost entirely occupied with
his treatise, entitled, "De Remediis utriusque Fortunae," (A Remedy
against either extreme of Fortune. ) This made a great noise when it
appeared. Charles V. of France had it transcribed for his library, and
translated; and it was afterwards translated into Italian and Spanish.
Petrarch returned to Milan, and passed the autumn at his house, the
Linterno, where he met with an accident, that for some time threatened
dangerous consequences.
He thus relates it, in a letter to his friend,
Neri Morandi:--"I have a great volume of the epistles of Cicero, which I
have taken the pains to transcribe myself, for the copyists understand
nothing. One day, when I was entering my library, my gown got entangled
with this large book, so that the volume fell heavily on my left leg, a
little above the heel. By some fatality, I treated the accident too
lightly. I walked, I rode on horseback, according to my usual custom;
but my leg became inflamed, the skin changed colour, and mortification
began to appear. The pain took away my cheerfulness and sleep. I then
perceived that it was foolish courage to trifle with so serious an
accident. Doctors were called in. They feared at first that it would be
necessary to amputate the limb; but, at last, by means of regimen and
fomentation, the afflicted member was put into the way of healing. It is
singular that, ever since my infancy, my misfortunes have always fallen
on this same left leg. In truth, I have always been tempted to believe
in destiny; and why not, if, by the word destiny, we understand
Providence? "
As soon as his leg was recovered, he made a trip to Bergamo. There was
in that city a jeweller named Enrico Capri, a man of great natural
talents, who cherished a passionate admiration for the learned, and
above all for Petrarch, whose likeness was pictured or statued in every
room of his house. He had copies made at a great expense of everything
that came from his pen. He implored Petrarch to come and see him at
Bergamo. "If he honours my household gods," he said, "but for a single
day with his presence, I shall be happy all my life, and famous through
all futurity. " Petrarch consented, and on the 13th of October, 1358, the
poet was received at Bergamo with transports of joy.
flatter myself that he will be an honest man. He has talent; but what
avails talent without study! He flies from a book as he would from a
serpent. Persuasions, caresses, and threats are all thrown away upon him
as incitements to study. I have nothing wherewith to reproach myself;
and I shall be satisfied if he turns out an honest man, as I hope he
will. Themistocles used to say that he liked a man without letters
better than letters without a man. "
In the month of August, 1357, Petrarch received a letter from
Benintendi, the Chancellor of Venice, requesting him to send a dozen
elegiac verses to be engraved on the tomb of Andrea Dandolo. The
children of the Doge had an ardent wish that our poet should grant them
this testimony of his friendship for their father. Petrarch could not
refuse the request, and composed fourteen verses, which contain a sketch
of the great actions of Dandolo. But they were verses of command, which
the poet made in despite of the Muses and of himself.
In the following year, 1358, Petrarch was almost entirely occupied with
his treatise, entitled, "De Remediis utriusque Fortunae," (A Remedy
against either extreme of Fortune. ) This made a great noise when it
appeared. Charles V. of France had it transcribed for his library, and
translated; and it was afterwards translated into Italian and Spanish.
Petrarch returned to Milan, and passed the autumn at his house, the
Linterno, where he met with an accident, that for some time threatened
dangerous consequences.
He thus relates it, in a letter to his friend,
Neri Morandi:--"I have a great volume of the epistles of Cicero, which I
have taken the pains to transcribe myself, for the copyists understand
nothing. One day, when I was entering my library, my gown got entangled
with this large book, so that the volume fell heavily on my left leg, a
little above the heel. By some fatality, I treated the accident too
lightly. I walked, I rode on horseback, according to my usual custom;
but my leg became inflamed, the skin changed colour, and mortification
began to appear. The pain took away my cheerfulness and sleep. I then
perceived that it was foolish courage to trifle with so serious an
accident. Doctors were called in. They feared at first that it would be
necessary to amputate the limb; but, at last, by means of regimen and
fomentation, the afflicted member was put into the way of healing. It is
singular that, ever since my infancy, my misfortunes have always fallen
on this same left leg. In truth, I have always been tempted to believe
in destiny; and why not, if, by the word destiny, we understand
Providence? "
As soon as his leg was recovered, he made a trip to Bergamo. There was
in that city a jeweller named Enrico Capri, a man of great natural
talents, who cherished a passionate admiration for the learned, and
above all for Petrarch, whose likeness was pictured or statued in every
room of his house. He had copies made at a great expense of everything
that came from his pen. He implored Petrarch to come and see him at
Bergamo. "If he honours my household gods," he said, "but for a single
day with his presence, I shall be happy all my life, and famous through
all futurity. " Petrarch consented, and on the 13th of October, 1358, the
poet was received at Bergamo with transports of joy.