No More Learning

Among the fetes that were given to Charles, a ball was held at Avignon,
in a grand saloon brightly illuminated. Thither came all the beauties of
the city and of Provence. The Prince, who had heard much of Laura,
through her poetical fame, sought her out and saluted her in the French
manner.

Petrarch went, according to his custom, to pass the term of Lent at
Vaucluse. The Bishop of Cavaillon, eager to see the poet, persuaded him
to visit his recluse residence, and remained with Petrarch as his guest
for fifteen days, in his own castle, on the summit of rocks, that seemed
more adapted for the perch of birds than the habitation of men. There is
now scarcely a wreck of it remaining.

It would seem, however, that the Bishop's conversation made this
retirement very agreeable to Petrarch; for it inspired him with the idea
of writing a "Treatise on a Solitary Life. " Of this work he made a
sketch in a short time, but did not finish it till twenty years
afterwards, when he dedicated and presented it to the Bishop of
Cavaillon.

It is agreeable to meet, in Petrarch's life at the shut-up valley, with
any circumstance, however trifling, that indicates a cheerful state of
mind; for, independently of his loneliness, the inextinguishable passion
for Laura never ceased to haunt him; and his love, strange to say, had
mad, momentary hopes, which only deepened at their departure the
returning gloom of despair. Petrarch never wrote more sonnets on his
beloved than during the course of this year. Laura had a fair and
discreet female friend at Avignon, who was also the friend of Petrarch,
and interested in his attachment. The ideas which this amiable
confidante entertained of harmonizing success in misplaced attachment
with honour and virtue must have been Platonic, even beyond the feelings
which Petrarch, in reality, cherished; for, occasionally, the poet's
sonnets are too honest for pure Platonism. This lady, however, whose
name is unknown, strove to convince Laura that she ought to treat her
lover with less severity. "She pushed Laura forward," says De Sade, "and
kept back Petrarch. " One day she recounted to the poet all the proofs of
affection, and after these proofs she said, "You infidel, can you doubt
that she loves you?
" It is to this fair friend that he is supposed to
have addressed his nineteenth sonnet.

This year, his Laura was seized with a defluxion in her eyes, which made
her suffer much, and even threatened her with blindness. This was enough
to bring a sonnet from Petrarch (his 94th), in which he laments that
those eyes which were the sun of his life should be for ever eclipsed.
He went to see her during her illness, having now the privilege of
visiting her at her own house, and one day he found her perfectly
recovered. Whether the ophthalmia was infectious, or only endemic, I
know not; but so it was, that, whilst Laura's eyes got well, those of
her lover became affected with the same defluxion. It struck his
imagination, or, at least, he feigned to believe poetically, that the
malady of her eyes had passed into his; and, in one of his sonnets, he
exults at this welcome circumstance. [J] "I fixed my eyes," he said, "on
Laura; and that moment a something inexpressible, like a shooting star,
darted from them to mine. This is a present from love, in which I
rejoice. How delightful it is thus to cure the darling object of one's
soul! "

Petrarch received some show of complacency from Laura, which his
imagination magnified; and it was some sort of consolation, at least,
that his idol was courteous to him; but even this scanty solace was
interrupted. Some malicious person communicated to Laura that Petrarch
was imposing upon her, and that he was secretly addressing his love and
his poetry to another lady under a borrowed name. Laura gave ear to the
calumny, and, for a time, debarred him from her presence. If she had
been wholly indifferent to him, this misunderstanding would have never
existed; for jealousy and indifference are a contradiction in terms. I
mean true jealousy. There is a pseudo species of it, with which many
wives are troubled who care nothing about their husbands' affection; a
plant of ill nature that is reared merely to be a rod of conjugal
castigation. Laura, however, discovered at last, that her admirer was
playing no double part.