Daily Los Angeles herald., 1884-04-09
pErRARcI AND LAURA.


romantic story than that of Pc
trarch and LaAra, who lived il
Italy in the fourteenth century,
Petrarch wat q young man who
had been educated for the law
but who, to the indignation Of
his father, hated the dry study
and devoted Bis time to reading
romantic histories and 10 writing
poetry.
Once, it Is said, his parent, in
q state Of tremendous indignation
threw all his library into the fire;
but though the books we're burned
the love of them lived on, and on
the death OF his father Petrarch
purchased pretty country house
ct Vaucluse. and INDUCED with
out restraint in his favorite en-
ployment.
He had the students usual love
for solitary wandering, and once
he roamed SO far from home that
he was belated and slept all night
in q fsherman's hut. At SIX
o'clock in the morning he entered
the gates Of AvIgnon, and accord
ing to custom, entered the near
est church to offer up morning
prayer. It was the chnrch of St.
Clair. and being the holy week.
it was hung in black. The effect
created in the sensitive soul OF
Petrarch was one of extreme mel
ancholy.
As he knelt he felt the tears
rise to his eyes, and q premoni-
'tion OF coming calamity filed his
soul. But as he raised his eyes
they fell upon the most beautiful
figure he had ever seen. 1t was
that of young lady who was also
kneeling. She had magnificent
bust and profusion of blonde
hair. Her dress was pale green
robe, besprinkled with vioiets,
and she wore q crown OF filagree
gold set with precious stones and
q splendid necklace of large
pearls aud garnets. At first he
could not see her face, but in a
little while she arose, and on
leaving the church, passed him
Their eyes met, he was still
kneeling, with 'clasped bands
She started aud blushed. Francis
Petrarch could not move, but
"his soul followed her"
This was Laura, then in her
eighteenth year. From this mo-
ment to make her his wife became
Petrarchs fondest hope. And
Laura also seems to have loved
him; but her mother. who was
the veritable cruel parent OF fic-
ton, had higher views for her
daughter; and, having pretended
to give her consent, carried Laura
away from Vaucluse to Avignon,
and forced her to marry the
Count de SADIE.
This was done while Petrarch
was at Naples, competing for the
laurel crown which he desired to
by at Laura's feet. However she
smay once have loved him-nay,
perhaps she loved him always
Laura behaved with the modesty
and prudence which 40 we'll be-
'6ame q mstron, and neither en-
couraged his visits nor his pro-
testat;ons. Yet, though Laura
lived to be forty years old. be
adored her at the hour she died
entirely as he had in he bright
est hour OF her youth and beauty.
A few days before her death he
said to a friend:
1.-THE day may perhaps come
when / shall have calmness
enough to contemplate all the
misery OF my soul; but still l love
her, in spite of myself. I have
said in lamentations and tears l
must hate her-but ah l love her
still"
In momenss Of excitement he
used to fancy that he saw her
spirit; she seemed to emerge
from Q tree; from the waves Of
the sea; once from the mouth OF
a cannon.
Thrice he saw her at night be
side his bed, and found himself
overcome BY the spectacle.
The story OF his love he told in
vsrses that have been handed
down to posserity. They have
all the interest Of q biography,
for he conceals nothisg. Emo
tions which most men bury in
their souls he has committed to
paper. IL is evident from these
that she never admitted her love
for him, but that he believed she
loved him is Just as certain. Sne
was evidently one who was able
to bear much without complaint.
Some one has said:
mo writer in inustes himself
80 closely into the folds OF the
breast as Petrasch. He recalls
to us every little circumstance Of
our passions. The pains, the
pleasures, the hopes, the fears.
and, often by a single word,
awakes ia those who have loved /,
"a crowd OF almost impercsptible
feelings, which they had never
observed, or had forgotten"
At last Laura died. and Pc
trarch himself writes Of that event
as follows, in the pages OF a vol
ume Of Virgil:
"It was in the early days ol
my youth. on the 9Th Of April, in
the morning, and in the yeal