No More Learning

You will say, perhaps, that you have been ill-used by your
fellow-citizens, who have withheld from you your paternal property. I
disapprove not your just indignation; but Heaven forbid I should believe
that, righteously and honestly, any injury, from whomsoever we may
receive it, can justify our taking part against our country. It is in
vain for you to allege that you have not incited him to war against our
country, nor lent him either your arm or advice. How can you be happy
with him, whilst you are hearing of the ruins, the conflagrations, the
imprisonments, the deaths, and the rapines, that he spreads around him? "

Petrarch's answers to these and other reproaches which his friends sent
to him were cold, vague, and unsatisfactory. He denied that he had
sacrificed his liberty; and told Boccaccio that, after all, it was less
humiliating to be subservient to a single tyrant than to be, as he,
Boccaccio, was, subservient to a whole tyrannical people. This was an
unwise, implied confession on the part of Petrarch that he was the slave
of Visconti. Sismondi may be rather harsh in pronouncing Petrarch to
have been all his life a Troubadour; but there is something in his
friendship with the Lord of Milan that palliates the accusation. In
spite of this severe letter from Boccaccio, it is strange, and yet,
methinks, honourable to both, that their friendship was never broken.

Levati, in his "_Viaggi di Petrarca_," ascribes the poet's settlement at
Milan to his desire of accumulating a little money, not for himself, but
for his natural children; and in some of Petrarch's letters, subsequent
to this period, there are allusions to his own circumstances which give
countenance to this suspicion.

However this may be, Petrarch deceived himself if he expected to have
long tranquillity in such a court as that of Milan. He was perpetually
obliged to visit the Viscontis, and to be present at every feast that
they gave to honour the arrival of any illustrious stranger. A more than
usually important visitant soon came to Milan, in the person of Cardinal
Egidio Albornoz, who arrived at the head of an army, with a view to
restore to the Church large portions of its territory which had been
seized by some powerful families. The Cardinal entered Milan on the 14th
of September, 1353. John Visconti, though far from being delighted at
his arrival, gave him an honourable reception, defrayed all the expenses
of his numerous retinue, and treated him magnificently.
He went out
himself to meet him, two miles from the city, accompanied by his nephews
and his courtiers, including Petrarch. Our poet joined the suite of
Galeazzo Visconti, and rode near him. The Legate and his retinue rode
also on horseback. When the two parties met, the dust, that rose in
clouds from the feet of the horses, prevented them from discerning each
other. Petrarch, who had advanced beyond the rest, found himself, he
knew not how, in the midst of the Legate's train, and very near to him.
Salutations passed on either side, but with very little speaking, for
the dust had dried their throats.

Petrarch made a backward movement, to regain his place among his
company. His horse, in backing, slipped with his hind-legs into a ditch
on the side of the road, but, by a sort of miracle, the animal kept his
fore-feet for some time on the top of the ditch. If he had fallen back,
he must have crushed his rider. Petrarch was not afraid, for he was not
aware of his danger; but Galeazzo Visconti and his people dismounted to
rescue the poet, who escaped without injury.

The Legate treated Petrarch, who little expected it, with the utmost
kindness and distinction, and, granting all that he asked for his
friends, pressed him to mention something worthy of his own acceptance.
Petrarch replied: "When I ask for my friends, is it not the same as for
myself? Have I not the highest satisfaction in receiving favours for
them? I have long put a rein on my own desires. Of what, then, can I
stand in need? "

After the departure of the Legate, Petrarch retired to his _rus in
urbe_.