Petrarch was at this time delighted, in his solitude of Vaucluse, to hear of the arrival at Avignon of one of his dearest friends.  This was Dionisio dal Borgo a San Sepolcro, who, being now advanced in years, had resigned his pulpit in the University of Paris, in order to return to his native country, and came to Avignon with the intention of going by sea to Florence.  Petrarch pressed him strongly to visit him at Vaucluse, interspersing his persuasion with many compliments to King Robert of Naples, to whom he knew that Dionisio was much attached; nor was he without hopes that his friend would speak favourably of him to his Neapolitan Majesty.  In a letter from Vaucluse he says:—­“Can nothing induce you to come to my solitude?  Will not my ardent request, and the pity you must have for my condition, bring you to pass some days with your old disciple?  If these motives are not sufficient, permit me to suggest another inducement.  There is in this place a poplar-tree of so immense a size that it covers with its shade not only the river and its banks, but also a considerable extent beyond them.  They tell us that King Robert of Naples, invited by the beauty of this spot, came hither to unburthen his mind from the weight of public affairs, and to enjoy himself in the shady retreat.”  The poet added many eulogies on his Majesty of Naples, which, as he anticipated, reached the royal ear.  It seems not to be clear that Father Dionisio ever visited the poet at Vaucluse; though they certainly had an interview at Avignon.  To Petrarch’s misfortune, his friend’s stay in that city was very short.  The monk proceeded to Florence, but he found there no shady retreat like that of the poplar at Vaucluse.  Florence was more than ever agitated by internal commotions, and was this year afflicted by plague and famine.  This dismal state of the city determined Dionisio to accept an invitation from King Robert to spend the remainder of his days at his court.

This monarch had the happiness of giving additional publicity to Petrarch’s reputation.  That the poet sought his patronage need not be concealed; and if he used a little flattery in doing so, we must make allowance for the adulatory instinct of the tuneful tribe.  We cannot live without bread upon bare reputation, or on the prospect of having tombstones put over our bones, prematurely hurried to the grave by hunger, when they shall be as insensible to praise as the stones themselves.  To speak seriously, I think that a poet sacrifices his usefulness to himself and others, and an importance in society which may be turned to public good, if he shuns the patronage that can be obtained by unparasitical means.