“As to Vaucluse, I well know the beauties of that charming valley, and ten years’ residence is a proof of my affection for the place.  I have shown my love of it by the house which I built there.  There I began my Africa, there I wrote the greater part of my epistles in prose and verse, and there I nearly finished all my eclogues.  I never had so much leisure, nor felt so much enthusiasm, in any other spot.  At Vaucluse I conceived the first idea of giving an epitome of the Lives of Illustrious Men, and there I wrote my Treatise on a Solitary Life, as well as that on religious retirement.  It was there, also, that I sought to moderate my passion for Laura, which, alas, solitude only cherished.  In short, this lonely valley will for ever be pleasing to my recollections.  There is, nevertheless, a sad change, produced by time.  Both the Cardinal and everything that is dear to me have perished.  The veil which covered my eyes is at length removed.  I can now perceive the difference between Vaucluse and the rich mountains and vales and flourishing cities of Italy.  And yet, forgive me, so strong are the prepossessions of youth, that I must confess I pine for Vaucluse, even whilst I acknowledge its inferiority to Italy.”

Whilst Petrarch was thus flattering his imagination with hopes that were never to be realized, his two friends, who had proceeded to cross the Apennines, came to an untimely fate.  On the 5th of June, 1349, a servant, whom Petrarch had sent to inquire about some alarming accounts of the travellers that had gone abroad, returned sooner than he was expected, and showed by his face that he brought no pleasant tidings.  Petrarch was writing—­the pen fell from his hand.  “What news do you bring?” “Very bad news!  Your two friends, in crossing the Apennines, were attacked by robbers.”  “O God! what has happened to them?” The messenger replied, “Mainardo, who was behind his companions, was surrounded and murdered.  Luca, hearing of his fate, came back sword in hand.  He fought alone against ten, and he wounded some of the assailants, but at last he received many wounds, of which he lies almost dead.  The robbers fled with their booty.  The peasants assembled, and pursued, and would have captured them, if some gentlemen, unworthy of being called so, had not stopped the pursuit, and received the villains into their castles.  Luca was seen among the rocks, but no one knows what is become of him.”  Petrarch, in the deepest agitation, despatched fleet couriers to Placenza, to Florence, and to Rome, to obtain intelligence about Luca.

These ruffians, who came from Florence, were protected by the Ubaldini, one of the most powerful and ancient families in Tuscany.  As the murder was perpetrated within the territory of Florence, Petrarch wrote indignantly to the magistrates and people of that State, intreating them to avenge an outrage on their fellow citizens.  Luca, it appears, expired of his wounds.