oy, and pressed him to
pass the night under his roof. That night and all the next day it rained
so heavily that Petrarch, more from fear of his books and papers being
damaged than from anxiety about his own health, gave up his Italian
journey for the present, and, returning to Vaucluse, spent there the
rest of November and the whole of December, 1352.

Early in December, Petrarch heard of the death of Clement VI., and this
event gave him occasion for more epistles, both against the Roman court
and his enemies, the physicians. Clement's death was ascribed to
different causes. Petrarch, of course, imputed it to his doctors.
Villani's opinion is the most probable, that he died of a protracted
fever. He was buried with great pomp in the church of Notre Dame at
Avignon; but his remains, after some time, were removed to the abbey of
Chaise Dieu, in Auvergne, where his tomb was violated by the Huguenots
in 1562. Scandal says that they made a football of his head, and that
the Marquis de Courton afterwards converted his skull into a
drinking-cup.

It need not surprise us that his Holiness never stood high in the good
graces of Petrarch. He was a Limousin, who never loved Italy go much as
Gascony, and, in place of re-establishing the holy seat at Rome, he
completed the building of the papal palace at Avignon, which his
predecessor had begun. These were faults that eclipsed all the good
qualities of Clement VI. in the eyes of Petrarch, and, in the sixth of
his eclogues, the poet has drawn the character of Clement in odious
colours, and, with equal freedom, has described most of the cardinals of
his court. Whether there was perfect consistency between this hatred to
the Pope and his thinking, as he certainly did for a time, of becoming
his secretary, may admit of a doubt. I am not, however, disposed to deny
some allowance to Petrarch for his dislike of Clement, who was a
voluptuary in private life, and a corrupted ruler of the Church.

Early in May, 1353, Petrarch departed for Italy, and we find him very
soon afterwards at the palace of John Visconti of Milan, whom he used to
call the greatest man in Italy. This prince, uniting the sacerdotal with
the civil power, reigned absolute in Milan. He was master of Lombardy,
and made all Italy tremble at his hostility. Yet, in spite of his
despotism, John Visconti was a lover of letters, and fond of having
literary men at his court. He exercised a cunning influence over our
poet, and d