He had
inherited
his
father's affection for Petrarch.
father's affection for Petrarch.
Petrarch
MARK'S PLACE, VENICE.
]
The plague now again broke out in Italy; and the English and other
predatory troops contributed much to spread its ravages. It extended to
many places; but most of all it afflicted Milan.
It is probable that these disasters were among the causes of Petrarch's
leaving Milan. He settled at Padua, when the plague had not reached it.
At this time, Petrarch lost his son John. Whether he died at Milan or at
Padua is not certain, but, wherever he died, it was most probably of the
plague. John had not quite attained his twenty-fourth year.
In the same year, 1361, he married his daughter Francesca, now near the
age of twenty, to Francesco di Brossano, a gentleman of Milan. Petrarch
speaks highly of his son-in-law's talents, and of the mildness of his
character. Boccaccio has drawn his portrait in the most pleasing
colours. Of the poet's daughter, also, he tells us, "that without being
handsome, she had a very agreeable face, and much resembled her father. "
It does not seem that she inherited his genius; but she was an excellent
wife, a tender mother, and a dutiful daughter. Petrarch was certainly
pleased both with her and with his son-in-law; and, if he did not live
with the married pair, he was, at least, near them, and much in their
society.
When our poet arrived at Padua, Francesco di Carrara, the son of his
friend Jacopo, reigned there in peace and alone.
He had inherited his
father's affection for Petrarch. Here, too, was his friend Pandolfo
Malatesta, one of the bravest condottieri of the fourteenth century, who
had been driven away from Milan by the rage and jealousy of Barnabo.
The plague, which still continued to infest Southern Europe in 1362, had
even in the preceding year deprived our poet of his beloved friend
Socrates, who died at Avignon. "He was," says Petrarch, "of all men the
dearest to my heart. His sentiments towards me never varied during an
acquaintance of thirty-one years. "
The plague and war rendered Italy at this time so disagreeable to
Petrarch, that he resolved on returning to Vaucluse. He, therefore, set
out from Padua for Milan, on the 10th of January, 1362, reckoning that
when the cold weather was over he might depart from the latter place on
his route to Avignon. But when he reached Milan, he found that the state
of the country would not permit him to proceed to the Alps.
The Emperor of Germany now sent Petrarch a third letter of invitation to
come and see him, which our poet promised to accept; but alleged that he
was prevented by the impossibility of getting a safe passage. Boccaccio,
hearing that Petrarch meditated a journey to the far North, was much
alarmed, and reproached him for his intention of dragging the Muses into
Sarmatia, when Italy was the true Parnassus.
In June, 1362, the plague, which had begun its ravages at Padua, chased
Petrarch from that place, and he took the resolution of establishing
himself at Venice, which it had not reached. The course of the
pestilence, like that of the cholera, was not general, but unaccountably
capricious. Villani says that it acted like hail, which will desolate
fields to the right and left, whilst it spares those in the middle. The
war had not permitted our poet to travel either to Avignon or into
Germany. The plague had driven him out of Milan and Padua. "I am not
flying from death," he said, "but seeking repose.
The plague now again broke out in Italy; and the English and other
predatory troops contributed much to spread its ravages. It extended to
many places; but most of all it afflicted Milan.
It is probable that these disasters were among the causes of Petrarch's
leaving Milan. He settled at Padua, when the plague had not reached it.
At this time, Petrarch lost his son John. Whether he died at Milan or at
Padua is not certain, but, wherever he died, it was most probably of the
plague. John had not quite attained his twenty-fourth year.
In the same year, 1361, he married his daughter Francesca, now near the
age of twenty, to Francesco di Brossano, a gentleman of Milan. Petrarch
speaks highly of his son-in-law's talents, and of the mildness of his
character. Boccaccio has drawn his portrait in the most pleasing
colours. Of the poet's daughter, also, he tells us, "that without being
handsome, she had a very agreeable face, and much resembled her father. "
It does not seem that she inherited his genius; but she was an excellent
wife, a tender mother, and a dutiful daughter. Petrarch was certainly
pleased both with her and with his son-in-law; and, if he did not live
with the married pair, he was, at least, near them, and much in their
society.
When our poet arrived at Padua, Francesco di Carrara, the son of his
friend Jacopo, reigned there in peace and alone.
He had inherited his
father's affection for Petrarch. Here, too, was his friend Pandolfo
Malatesta, one of the bravest condottieri of the fourteenth century, who
had been driven away from Milan by the rage and jealousy of Barnabo.
The plague, which still continued to infest Southern Europe in 1362, had
even in the preceding year deprived our poet of his beloved friend
Socrates, who died at Avignon. "He was," says Petrarch, "of all men the
dearest to my heart. His sentiments towards me never varied during an
acquaintance of thirty-one years. "
The plague and war rendered Italy at this time so disagreeable to
Petrarch, that he resolved on returning to Vaucluse. He, therefore, set
out from Padua for Milan, on the 10th of January, 1362, reckoning that
when the cold weather was over he might depart from the latter place on
his route to Avignon. But when he reached Milan, he found that the state
of the country would not permit him to proceed to the Alps.
The Emperor of Germany now sent Petrarch a third letter of invitation to
come and see him, which our poet promised to accept; but alleged that he
was prevented by the impossibility of getting a safe passage. Boccaccio,
hearing that Petrarch meditated a journey to the far North, was much
alarmed, and reproached him for his intention of dragging the Muses into
Sarmatia, when Italy was the true Parnassus.
In June, 1362, the plague, which had begun its ravages at Padua, chased
Petrarch from that place, and he took the resolution of establishing
himself at Venice, which it had not reached. The course of the
pestilence, like that of the cholera, was not general, but unaccountably
capricious. Villani says that it acted like hail, which will desolate
fields to the right and left, whilst it spares those in the middle. The
war had not permitted our poet to travel either to Avignon or into
Germany. The plague had driven him out of Milan and Padua. "I am not
flying from death," he said, "but seeking repose.
