No More Learning

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_. In a letter dated thence to his friend the Prior of the Holy
Apostles, we find him acknowledging feelings that were far distant from
settled contentment. "You have heard," he says, "how much my peace has
been disturbed, and my leisure broken in upon, by an importunate crowd
and by unforeseen occupations. The Legate has left Milan. He was
received at Florence with unbounded applause: as for poor me, I am again
in my retreat. I have been long free, happy, and master of my time; but
I feel, at present, that liberty and leisure are only for souls of
consummate virtue. When we are not of that class of beings, nothing is
more dangerous for a heart subject to the passions than to be free,
idle, and alone. The snares of voluptuousness are _then_ more dangerous,
and corrupt thoughts gain an easier entrance--above all, love, that
seducing tormentor, from whom I thought that I had now nothing more to
fear. "

From these expressions we might almost conclude that he had again fallen
in love; but if it was so, we have no evidence as to the object of his
new passion.

During his half-retirement, Petrarch learned news which disturbed his
repose. A courier arrived, one night, bringing an account of the entire
destruction of the Genoese fleet, in a naval combat with that of the
Venetians, which took place on the 19th of August, 1353, near the island
of Sardinia.