said, "Petrarch, you are tired of loving me." This incident produced one
of the finest sonnets, beginning--

_Io non fut d' amar voi lassato unquanco._

Tired, did you say, of loving you? Oh, no!
I ne'er shall tire of the unwearying flame.
But I am weary, kind and cruel dame,
With tears that uselessly and ceaseless flow,
Scorning myself, and scorn'd by you. I long
For death: but let no gravestone hold in view
Our names conjoin'd: nor tell my passion strong
Upon the dust that glow'd through life for you.
And yet this heart of amorous faith demands,
Deserves, a better boon; but cruel, hard
As is my fortune, I will bless Love's bands
For ever, if you give me this reward.

In 1339, he composed among other sonnets, those three, the lxii.,
lxxiv., and lxxv., which are confessedly master-pieces of their kind, as
well as three canzoni to the eyes of Laura, which the Italians call the
three sister Graces, and worship as divine.[H] The critic Tassoni
himself could not censure them, and called them the queens of song. At
this period, however seldom he may have visited Avignon, he evidently
sought rather to cherish than subdue his fatal attachment. A celebrated
painter, Simone Martini of Siena, came to Avignon. He was the pupil of
Giotto, not exquisite in drawing, but famous for taking spirited
likenesses.

Petrarch persuaded Simone to favour him with a miniature likeness of