From Naples he went to Parma, where Azzo Correggio, with his wonted affection, pressed him to delay; and Petrarch accepted the invitation, though he remarked with sorrow that harmony no longer reigned among the brothers of the family.  He stopped there, however, for some time, and enjoyed such tranquillity that he could revise and polish his compositions.  But, in the following year, 1345, his friend Azzo, having failed to keep his promise to Luchino Visconti, as to restoring to him the lordship of Parma—­Azzo had obtained it by the assistance of the Visconti, who avenged himself by making war on the Correggios—­he invested Parma, and afflicted it with a tedious siege.  Petrarch, foreseeing little prospect of pursuing his studies quietly in a beleaguered city, left the place with a small number of his companions; but, about midnight, near Rheggio, a troop of robbers rushed from an ambuscade, with cries of “Kill! kill!” and our handful of travellers, being no match for a host of brigands, fled and sought to save themselves under favour of night.  Petrarch, during this flight, was thrown from his horse.  The shock was so violent that he swooned; but he recovered, and was remounted by his companions.  They had not got far, however, when a violent storm of rain and lightning rendered their situation almost as bad as that from which they had escaped, and threatened them with death in another shape.  They passed a dreadful night without finding a tree or the hollow of a rock to shelter them, and had no expedient for mitigating their exposure to the storm but to turn their horses’ backs to the tempest.

When the dawn permitted them to discern a path amidst the brushwood, they pushed on to Scandiano, a castle occupied by the Gonzaghi, friends of the lords of Parma, which they happily reached, and where they were kindly received.  Here they learned that a troop of horse and foot had been waiting for them in ambush near Scandiano, but had been forced by the bad weather to withdraw before their arrival; thus “the pelting of the pitiless storm” had been to them a merciful occurrence.  Petrarch made no delay here, for he was smarting under the bruises from his fall, but caused himself to be tied upon his horse, and went to repose at Modena.  The next day he repaired to Bologna, where he stopped a short time for surgical assistance, and whence he sent a letter to his friend Barbato, describing his misadventure; but, unable to hold a pen himself, he was obliged to employ the hand of a stranger.  He was so impatient, however, to get back to Avignon, that he took the road to it as soon as he could sit his horse.  On approaching that city he says he felt a greater softness in the air, and saw with delight the flowers that adorn the neighbouring woods.  Everything seemed to announce the vicinity of Laura.  It was seldom that Petrarch spoke so complacently of Avignon.

Clement VI. received Petrarch with the highest respect, offered him his choice among several vacant bishoprics, and pressed him to receive the office of pontifical secretary.  He declined the proffered secretaryship.  Prizing his independence above all things, excepting Laura, he remarked to his friends that the yoke of office would not sit lighter on him for being gilded.