At this time he was
meditating
to recross the
Alps.
Alps.
Petrarch
She passes whole days in the open fields, when
the grasshoppers can scarcely endure the sun. Her tanned hide braves the
heats of the dog-star, and, in the evening, she arrives as fresh as if
she had just risen from bed. She does all the work of my house, besides
taking care of her husband and children and attending my guests. She
seems occupied with everybody but herself. At night she sleeps on
vine-branches; she eats only black bread and roots, and drinks water and
vinegar. If you were to give her anything more delicate, she would be
the worse for it: such is the force of habit.
"Though I have still two fine suits of clothes, I never wear them. If
you saw me, you would take me for a labourer or a shepherd, though I was
once so tasteful in my dress. The times are changed; the eyes which I
wished to please are now shut; and, perhaps, even if they were opened,
they would not _now_ have the same empire over me. "
In another letter from Vaucluse, he says: "I rise at midnight; I go out
at break of day; I study in the fields as in my library; I read, I
write, I dream; I struggle against indolence, luxury, and pleasure. I
wander all day among the arid mountains, the fresh valleys, and the deep
caverns. I walk much on the banks of the Sorgue, where I meet no one to
distract me. I recall the past. I deliberate on the future; and, in this
contemplation, I find a resource against my solitude. " In the same
letter he avows that he could accustom himself to any habitation in the
world, except Avignon.
At this time he was meditating to recross the
Alps.
Early in September, 1352, the Cardinal of Boulogne departed for Paris,
in order to negotiate a peace between the Kings of France and England.
Petrarch went to take his leave of him, and asked if he had any orders
for Italy, for which he expected soon to set out. The Cardinal told him
that he should be only a month upon his journey, and that he hoped to
see him at Avignon on his return. He had, in fact, kind views with
regard to Petrarch. He wished to procure for him some good establishment
in France, and wrote to him upon his route, "Pray do not depart yet.
Wait until I return, or, at least, until I write to you on an important
affair that concerns yourself. " This letter, which, by the way, evinces
that our poet's circumstances were not independent of church promotion,
changed the plans of Petrarch, who remained at Avignon nearly the whole
of the months of September and October.
During this delay, he heard constant reports of the war that was going
on between the Genoese and the Venetians. In the spring of the year
1352, their fleets met in the Propontis, and had a conflict almost
unexampled, which lasted during two days and a tempestuous night. The
Genoese, upon the whole, had the advantage, and, in revenge for the
Greeks having aided the Venetians, they made a league with the Turks.
The Pope, who had it earnestly at heart to put a stop to this fatal war,
engaged the belligerents to send their ambassadors to Avignon, and there
to treat for peace. The ambassadors came; but a whole month was spent in
negotiations which ended in nothing. Petrarch in vain employed his
eloquence, and the Pope his conciliating talents. In these
circumstances, Petrarch wrote a letter to the Genoese government, which
does infinite credit to his head and his heart. He used every argument
that common sense or humanity could suggest to show the folly of the
war, but his arguments were thrown away on spirits too fierce for
reasoning.
the grasshoppers can scarcely endure the sun. Her tanned hide braves the
heats of the dog-star, and, in the evening, she arrives as fresh as if
she had just risen from bed. She does all the work of my house, besides
taking care of her husband and children and attending my guests. She
seems occupied with everybody but herself. At night she sleeps on
vine-branches; she eats only black bread and roots, and drinks water and
vinegar. If you were to give her anything more delicate, she would be
the worse for it: such is the force of habit.
"Though I have still two fine suits of clothes, I never wear them. If
you saw me, you would take me for a labourer or a shepherd, though I was
once so tasteful in my dress. The times are changed; the eyes which I
wished to please are now shut; and, perhaps, even if they were opened,
they would not _now_ have the same empire over me. "
In another letter from Vaucluse, he says: "I rise at midnight; I go out
at break of day; I study in the fields as in my library; I read, I
write, I dream; I struggle against indolence, luxury, and pleasure. I
wander all day among the arid mountains, the fresh valleys, and the deep
caverns. I walk much on the banks of the Sorgue, where I meet no one to
distract me. I recall the past. I deliberate on the future; and, in this
contemplation, I find a resource against my solitude. " In the same
letter he avows that he could accustom himself to any habitation in the
world, except Avignon.
At this time he was meditating to recross the
Alps.
Early in September, 1352, the Cardinal of Boulogne departed for Paris,
in order to negotiate a peace between the Kings of France and England.
Petrarch went to take his leave of him, and asked if he had any orders
for Italy, for which he expected soon to set out. The Cardinal told him
that he should be only a month upon his journey, and that he hoped to
see him at Avignon on his return. He had, in fact, kind views with
regard to Petrarch. He wished to procure for him some good establishment
in France, and wrote to him upon his route, "Pray do not depart yet.
Wait until I return, or, at least, until I write to you on an important
affair that concerns yourself. " This letter, which, by the way, evinces
that our poet's circumstances were not independent of church promotion,
changed the plans of Petrarch, who remained at Avignon nearly the whole
of the months of September and October.
During this delay, he heard constant reports of the war that was going
on between the Genoese and the Venetians. In the spring of the year
1352, their fleets met in the Propontis, and had a conflict almost
unexampled, which lasted during two days and a tempestuous night. The
Genoese, upon the whole, had the advantage, and, in revenge for the
Greeks having aided the Venetians, they made a league with the Turks.
The Pope, who had it earnestly at heart to put a stop to this fatal war,
engaged the belligerents to send their ambassadors to Avignon, and there
to treat for peace. The ambassadors came; but a whole month was spent in
negotiations which ended in nothing. Petrarch in vain employed his
eloquence, and the Pope his conciliating talents. In these
circumstances, Petrarch wrote a letter to the Genoese government, which
does infinite credit to his head and his heart. He used every argument
that common sense or humanity could suggest to show the folly of the
war, but his arguments were thrown away on spirits too fierce for
reasoning.
