waiting for him. The Emperor, the moment he saw his Holiness,
dismounted from his horse, took the reins of that of the Pope, and
conducted him on foot to the church of St. Peter. As to this submission
of civil to ecclesiastical dignity, different opinions were entertained,
even at Rome; and the wiser class of men disapproved of it. Petrarch's
opinion on the subject is not recorded; but, during this year, there is
no proof that he had any connection with the Emperor; and my own opinion
is that he did not approve of his conduct. It is certain that Petrarch
condemned the Pope's entering Rome at the head of 2000 soldiery. "The
Roman Pontiff," he remarks, "should trust to his dignity and to his
sanctity, when coming into our capital, and not to an army with their
swords and cuirasses. The cross of Jesus is the only standard which he
ought to rear. Trumpets and drums were out of place. It would have been
enough to have sung hallelujahs."

Petrarch, in his letter to Boccaccio, in the month of September, says
that he had got the fever; and he was still so feeble that he was
obliged to employ the hand of a stranger in writing to him. He indites
as follows:--"I have had the fever for forty days. It weakened me so
much that I could not go to my church, though it is near my house,
without being carried. I feel as if my health would never be restored.
My constitution seems to be entirely worn out." In another letter to the
Cardinal Cabassole, who informed him of the Pope's wish to see him, he
says: "His Holiness does me more honour than I deserve. It is to you
that I owe this obligation. Return a thousand thanks to the holy father
in your own name and in mine." The Pope was so anxious to see Petrarch
that he wrote to him with his own hand, reproaching him for refusing his
invitation. Our poet, after returning a second apology, passed the
winter in making preparations for this journey; but before setting out
he thought proper to make his will. It was written with his own hand at
Padua.

In his testament he forbids weeping for his death, justly remarking that
tears do no good to the dead, and may do harm to the living. He asks
only prayers and alms to the poor who will pray for him. "As for my
burial," he says, "let it be made as my friends think fit. What
signifies it to me where my body is laid?" He then makes some bequests
in favour of the religious orders; and he founds an anniversary in his
own church of Padua, which is still ce