Behold Rome, once the empress of the world, now
pale, with scattered locks and torn garments, at your feet, imploring
your presence and support!
pale, with scattered locks and torn garments, at your feet, imploring
your presence and support!
Petrarch
In proportion as you know the grandeur of the
undertaking, consummate it the sooner. Let not the love of your
Transalpine dominions detain you longer. In beholding Germany, think of
Italy. If the one has given you birth, the other has given you
greatness. If you are king of the one, you are king and emperor of the
other. Let me say, without meaning offence to other nations, that here
is the head of your monarchy. Everywhere else you will find only its
members. What a glorious project to unite those members to their head!
"I am aware that you dislike all innovation; but what I propose would be
no innovation on your part. Italy is as well known to you as Germany.
Brought hither in your youth by your illustrious sire, he made you
acquainted with our cities and our manners, and taught you here the
first lessons of war. In the bloom of your youth, you have obtained
great victories. 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.
undertaking, consummate it the sooner. Let not the love of your
Transalpine dominions detain you longer. In beholding Germany, think of
Italy. If the one has given you birth, the other has given you
greatness. If you are king of the one, you are king and emperor of the
other. Let me say, without meaning offence to other nations, that here
is the head of your monarchy. Everywhere else you will find only its
members. What a glorious project to unite those members to their head!
"I am aware that you dislike all innovation; but what I propose would be
no innovation on your part. Italy is as well known to you as Germany.
Brought hither in your youth by your illustrious sire, he made you
acquainted with our cities and our manners, and taught you here the
first lessons of war. In the bloom of your youth, you have obtained
great victories. 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.
