Yet even from these passages it is not easy to determine what were Laura's. real feelings : and it would seem that his own ardent wishes induced him to infer from some designed or tender expression of the eye, a promise which, however, never escaped her lips Let sailors gaze on stars and moon so freshly shining, Let them that miss the way be guided by the light: I know my Lady's smile, there needs no more divining; Affection sees in dark, and Love has eyes by night. OLD POEMS. One of his sonnets might serve well for an artist to represent Petrarch and Laura at the moment that he is taking leave of her for a long time. Her countenance is obscured by her usual veil, and modesty and elevation of mind, tenderness, melancholy, mystery, and coquetry, are so interwoven, as not to leave very discernible the real state of her heartwhilst upon the countenance of her lover predominate the ecstasy of passion, and the intensity of the illusion, by which he thinks he reads clearly in the eyes of Laura, sentiments them invisible to all around Quel vago impallidir che'l dolce riso D'un amorosa nebbia ricoverse, Con tanta maestade al cor s'offerse Che gli si fece incontro a mezzo'l viso. he imagines Conobbi allor; sì come in paradiso Vede l'un l'altro; in tal guisa s'aperse Quel pietoso pensier ch' altri non scerse ; Ma vidil' io, ch' altrove non m'affiso. Ogni angelica vista, ogni atto umile Che giammai in donna, ov' amor fosse, apparve, Chinava a terra il bel guardo gentile; E tacendo dicea, com' a me parve, A tender paleness stealing o'er her cheek That in my eyes my full soul strove to speak : That love e'er to his fairest votaries lent, Her lovely looks with sadness downward bent, In silence to my fancy seem'd to say, Who calls my faithful friend so far away?-LADY DACRE. The impatience of seeing Laura exaggerated to his fancy the distress in which he had abandoned her; but he had hardly returned, when he again met with the same cold reception, which compelled him to groan, to fret, to fear the contempt of the world*-to depart once. more, and to conceal the humiliation and agonies of his unrewarded love in the hermitage of - Vaucluse: Solo e pensoso i più deserti campi Vo misurando a passi tardi e lenti— X. THAT it is possible to give a loose to the imagination, without alluring the mind into a labyrinth of errors and sorrows, is a position frequently maintained from the example of Petrarch and Laura, by those who have not as yet made the experiment upon themselves; and by those who wish to drive others out of the asylum either of tranquillity or of innocence intending perhaps to teach them that virtue ought to be acquired by the sacrifice of our dearest inclinations-or, which is more often the case, with a tardy and everlasting repentance Shall we desire to raise the sanctuary, The notion, however, that Laura had not * Jam DUO LUSTRA gravem, fessâ cervice, catenam Pertuleram INDIGNANS. Petrar. Carm. Lib. 1. Ep. 12. been always inexorable is equally popular, especially with that portion which is at once the less courted and the more alarmed of the fair sex. It has its foundation upon those romantic traditions also which poets and travellers are eager to adopt. The inhabitants of the neighbourhood of Vaucluse point out the height where Laura's chateau was situated, from which she could converse with her lover by signals. The abbé Delille discovers the very grotto which afforded a secret retreat, and the tree which lent its shade to this happy couple: Une grotte écartée avait frappé mes yeux: JARDINS, Chant 3. A lady goes still farther than the abbé: Dans cet antre profond, où, sans d'autre témoins, De l'amoureux Petrarque adoucir le martyre; Dans cet antre où l'amour tant de fois fut vainqueur Il exprima si bien sa peine, son ardeur, #MADAME DESHOULIÈRES, Epître sur Vaucluse. Petrarch's own confession will never set this old question at rest. But as to meeting Laura at Vaucluse, he retired there," in the hope," as he says, "to extinguish by solitude and study the flame which was consuming me. Unfortunate wretch! the remedy served only to exasperate the disease. My meditations were about her alone whom I wished to avoid*."—In another letter from Vaucluse he writes: "Here my eyes, which have dwelt too much on beauty at Avignon, can perceive nothing but the heavens, the rocks, and the waters. Here I am at variance with all my senses. Melodious words no longer delight my ears—I hear nothing but the lowing of cattle. On one side are the birds warbling-on the other are the waters roaring or murmuring. Nothing can be more agreeable-nothing more uncommon than my two gardens. I am angry that there should be any thing like them out of Italy. But the vicinity of Avignon poisons allt!" ("When I think of her-and when is it that I do not think of her!--I look around my solitude, my eyes bathed in tears. I feel that I am one of those unfortunate beings whose passion can feed on memory alone, who has no consolation but his tears; but who still desires to weep alone * Epist. Famil. Lib. 8. Ep. 3. + Ib. Lib. 22. Ep. 8. |