that was worse than hopeless, inasmuch as its success would bring more
misery than its failure. It is said that Petrarch, if it had not been
for this passion, would not have been the poet that he was. Not,
perhaps, so good an amatory poet; but I firmly believe that he would
have been a more various and masculine, and, upon the whole, _a greater
poet_, if he had never been bewitched by Laura. However, _he did_ return
to take possession of his canonicate at Lombes, and to lose possession
of his peace of mind.

In the April of the following year, 1336, he made an excursion, in
company with his brother Gherardo, to the top of Mount Ventoux, in the
neighbourhood of Avignon; a full description of which he sent in a
letter to Dionisio dal Borgo a San Sepolcro; but there is nothing
peculiarly interesting in this occurrence.

A more important event in his life took place during the following year,
1337--namely, that he had a son born to him, whom he christened by the
name of John, and to whom he acknowledged his relationship of paternity.
With all his philosophy and platonic raptures about Laura, Petrarch was
still subject to the passions of ordinary men, and had a mistress at
Avignon who was kinder to him than Laura. Her name and history have been
consigned to inscrutable obscurity: the same woman afterwards bore him a
daughter, whose name was Francesca, and who proved a great solace to him
in his old age. His biographers extol the magnanimity of Laura for
displaying no anger at our poet for what they choose to call this
discovery of his infidelity to her; but, as we have no reason to suppose
that Laura ever bestowed one favour on Petrarch beyond a pleasant look,
it is difficult to perceive her right to command his unspotted faith. At
all events, she would have done no good to her own reputation if she had
stormed at the lapse of her lover's virtue.