Florence was more than ever agitated by
internal commotions, and was this year afflicted by plague and famine.
internal commotions, and was this year afflicted by plague and famine.
Petrarch
He had
now, in 1339, put the first hand to his epic poem, the Scipiade; and one
of his friends, De Sade believes that it was the Bishop of Lombes,
fearing lest he might injure his health by overzealous application, went
to ask him for the key of his library, which the poet gave up. The
Bishop then locked up his books and papers, and commanded him to abstain
from reading and writing for ten days. Petrarch obeyed; but on the first
day of this literary Ramazan, he was seized with ennui, on the second
with a severe headache, and on the third with symptoms of fever; the
Bishop relented, and permitted the student to return to his books and
papers.
Petrarch was at this time delighted, in his solitude of Vaucluse, to
hear of the arrival at Avignon of one of his dearest friends. This was
Dionisio dal Borgo a San Sepolcro, who, being now advanced in years, had
resigned his pulpit in the University of Paris, in order to return to
his native country, and came to Avignon with the intention of going by
sea to Florence. Petrarch pressed him strongly to visit him at Vaucluse,
interspersing his persuasion with many compliments to King Robert of
Naples, to whom he knew that Dionisio was much attached; nor was he
without hopes that his friend would speak favourably of him to his
Neapolitan Majesty. In a letter from Vaucluse he says:--"Can nothing
induce you to come to my solitude? Will not my ardent request, and the
pity you must have for my condition, bring you to pass some days with
your old disciple? If these motives are not sufficient, permit me to
suggest another inducement. There is in this place a poplar-tree of so
immense a size that it covers with its shade not only the river and its
banks, but also a considerable extent beyond them. They tell us that
King Robert of Naples, invited by the beauty of this spot, came hither
to unburthen his mind from the weight of public affairs, and to enjoy
himself in the shady retreat. " The poet added many eulogies on his
Majesty of Naples, which, as he anticipated, reached the royal ear. It
seems not to be clear that Father Dionisio ever visited the poet at
Vaucluse; though they certainly had an interview at Avignon. To
Petrarch's misfortune, his friend's stay in that city was very short.
The monk proceeded to Florence, but he found there no shady retreat like
that of the poplar at Vaucluse.
Florence was more than ever agitated by
internal commotions, and was this year afflicted by plague and famine.
This dismal state of the city determined Dionisio to accept an
invitation from King Robert to spend the remainder of his days at his
court.
This monarch had the happiness of giving additional publicity to
Petrarch's reputation. That the poet sought his patronage need not be
concealed; and if he used a little flattery in doing so, we must make
allowance for the adulatory instinct of the tuneful tribe. We cannot
live without bread upon bare reputation, or on the prospect of having
tombstones put over our bones, prematurely hurried to the grave by
hunger, when they shall be as insensible to praise as the stones
themselves. To speak seriously, I think that a poet sacrifices his
usefulness to himself and others, and an importance in society which may
be turned to public good, if he shuns the patronage that can be obtained
by unparasitical means.
Father Dionisio, upon his arrival at Naples, impressed the King with so
favourable an opinion of Petrarch that Robert wrote a letter to our
poet, enclosing an epitaph of his Majesty's own composition, on the
death of his niece Clementina. This letter is unhappily lost; but the
answer to it is preserved, in which Petrarch tells the monarch that his
epitaph rendered his niece an object rather of envy than of lamentation.
"O happy Clementina! " says the poet, "after passing through a transitory
life, you have attained a double immortality, one in heaven, and another
on earth. " He then compares the posthumous good fortune of the princess
to that of Achilles, who had been immortalized by Homer. It is possible
that King Robert's letter to Petrarch was so laudatory as to require a
flattering answer. But this reverberated praise is rather overstrained.
Petrarch was now intent on obtaining the honour of Poet Laureate. His
wishes were at length gratified, and in a manner that made the offer
more flattering than the crown itself.
Whilst he still remained at Vaucluse, at nine o'clock in the morning of
the 1st of September, 1340, he received a letter from the Roman Senate,
pressingly inviting him to come and receive the crown of Poet Laureate
at Rome.
now, in 1339, put the first hand to his epic poem, the Scipiade; and one
of his friends, De Sade believes that it was the Bishop of Lombes,
fearing lest he might injure his health by overzealous application, went
to ask him for the key of his library, which the poet gave up. The
Bishop then locked up his books and papers, and commanded him to abstain
from reading and writing for ten days. Petrarch obeyed; but on the first
day of this literary Ramazan, he was seized with ennui, on the second
with a severe headache, and on the third with symptoms of fever; the
Bishop relented, and permitted the student to return to his books and
papers.
Petrarch was at this time delighted, in his solitude of Vaucluse, to
hear of the arrival at Avignon of one of his dearest friends. This was
Dionisio dal Borgo a San Sepolcro, who, being now advanced in years, had
resigned his pulpit in the University of Paris, in order to return to
his native country, and came to Avignon with the intention of going by
sea to Florence. Petrarch pressed him strongly to visit him at Vaucluse,
interspersing his persuasion with many compliments to King Robert of
Naples, to whom he knew that Dionisio was much attached; nor was he
without hopes that his friend would speak favourably of him to his
Neapolitan Majesty. In a letter from Vaucluse he says:--"Can nothing
induce you to come to my solitude? Will not my ardent request, and the
pity you must have for my condition, bring you to pass some days with
your old disciple? If these motives are not sufficient, permit me to
suggest another inducement. There is in this place a poplar-tree of so
immense a size that it covers with its shade not only the river and its
banks, but also a considerable extent beyond them. They tell us that
King Robert of Naples, invited by the beauty of this spot, came hither
to unburthen his mind from the weight of public affairs, and to enjoy
himself in the shady retreat. " The poet added many eulogies on his
Majesty of Naples, which, as he anticipated, reached the royal ear. It
seems not to be clear that Father Dionisio ever visited the poet at
Vaucluse; though they certainly had an interview at Avignon. To
Petrarch's misfortune, his friend's stay in that city was very short.
The monk proceeded to Florence, but he found there no shady retreat like
that of the poplar at Vaucluse.
Florence was more than ever agitated by
internal commotions, and was this year afflicted by plague and famine.
This dismal state of the city determined Dionisio to accept an
invitation from King Robert to spend the remainder of his days at his
court.
This monarch had the happiness of giving additional publicity to
Petrarch's reputation. That the poet sought his patronage need not be
concealed; and if he used a little flattery in doing so, we must make
allowance for the adulatory instinct of the tuneful tribe. We cannot
live without bread upon bare reputation, or on the prospect of having
tombstones put over our bones, prematurely hurried to the grave by
hunger, when they shall be as insensible to praise as the stones
themselves. To speak seriously, I think that a poet sacrifices his
usefulness to himself and others, and an importance in society which may
be turned to public good, if he shuns the patronage that can be obtained
by unparasitical means.
Father Dionisio, upon his arrival at Naples, impressed the King with so
favourable an opinion of Petrarch that Robert wrote a letter to our
poet, enclosing an epitaph of his Majesty's own composition, on the
death of his niece Clementina. This letter is unhappily lost; but the
answer to it is preserved, in which Petrarch tells the monarch that his
epitaph rendered his niece an object rather of envy than of lamentation.
"O happy Clementina! " says the poet, "after passing through a transitory
life, you have attained a double immortality, one in heaven, and another
on earth. " He then compares the posthumous good fortune of the princess
to that of Achilles, who had been immortalized by Homer. It is possible
that King Robert's letter to Petrarch was so laudatory as to require a
flattering answer. But this reverberated praise is rather overstrained.
Petrarch was now intent on obtaining the honour of Poet Laureate. His
wishes were at length gratified, and in a manner that made the offer
more flattering than the crown itself.
Whilst he still remained at Vaucluse, at nine o'clock in the morning of
the 1st of September, 1340, he received a letter from the Roman Senate,
pressingly inviting him to come and receive the crown of Poet Laureate
at Rome.
