who dislike it on account of its apparent blackness should remember that
the extreme darkness of the cavern gives it that gloomy tinge.

Chiare fresche a dolce aque
Ove le belle membra
Pose colei the sola a me pay donna.

I wished to ascend to that part of the rock where Petrarch's house stood.
I gazed on the remains with tears in my eyes, like Leo Allatius at
Homer's grave. Sixteen years later I slept at Arqua, where Petrarch died,
and his house still remains. The likeness between the two situations was
astonishing, for from Petrarch's study at Arqua a rock can be seen
similar to that which may be viewed at Vaucluse; this was the residence
of Madonna Laura.

"Let us go there," said I, "it is not far off."

I will not endeavour to delineate my feelings as I contemplated the ruins
of the house where dwelt the lady whom the amorous Petrarch immortalised
in his verse--verse made to move a heart of stone:

"Morte bella parea nel suo bel viso"

I threw myself with arms outstretched upon the ground as if I would
embrace the very stones. I kissed them, I watered them with my tears, I
strove to breathe the holy breath they once contained. I begged Madame
Stuard's pardon for having left her arm to do homage to the spirit of a
woman who had quickened the profoundest soul that ever lived.

I say soul advisedly, for after all the body and the senses had nothing