Amor col rimembrar sol mi mantiene— Ed io son di quei che il pianger giova― Che le lagrime mie si spargan sole. XI. THE house of Petrarch has disappeared; nor can his frequent descriptions help antiquarians to discover the site of his gardens *; but the valley of Vaucluse is one of those works of nature, which five centuries have been unable to disturb. On leaving Avignon the eye of the traveller reposes on an expanse of beautiful meadow till he arrives on a plain varied by numerous vineyards. At a short distance the hills begin to ascend, covered with trees, which are reflected on the Sorga, the waters of which are so limpid, their course so rapid, and their sounds so soft, that the poet describes them truly when he says, "that they are liquid crystal, the murmurs of which mingle with the songs of birds to fill the air with harmony." Its banks are covered with aquatic plants, and in those places where the falls or the rapidity of the current prevent their being distinguished, it seems to roll over a bed of green marble. Nearer the source, the soil is sterile; and as the channel grows narrow, the waves break against the rocks, and roll in a torrent * See Appendix, No. I. of foam and spray, glittering with the reflection of the prismatic colours. On advancing still farther up the river, the traveller finds himself inclosed in a semicircular recess, formed by rocks inaccessible on the right, and abrupt and precipitous on the left, rising into obelisks, pyramids, and every fantastic shape, and from the midst of them a thousand rivulets descend. The valley is terminated by a mountain, perpendicularly scarped from the top to the bottom, and through a natural porch of concentric arches, he enters a vast cavern, the silence and darkness of which are interrupted only by the murmuring and the sparkling of the waters in a basin, which forms the principal source of the Sorga. This basin, the depth of which has never yet been fathomed, overflows in the spring, and it then sends forth its waters, with such an impetuosity as to force them through a fissure in the top of the cavern, at an elevation of nearly a hundred feet on the mountain, whence they gradually precipitate themselves from height to height in cascades, sometimes shewing, and sometimes concealing, in their foam the huge masses of rock which they hurry along. The roar of the torrents never ceases during the long rains, while it seems as if the rocks themselves were dissolved away, and the thunder re-echoed from cavern to cavern. The awful solemnity of this spectacle is varied by the rays of the sun, which towards evening particularly refracts and reflects its various tints on the cascades. After the dogdays the rocks become arid and black, the basin resumes its level, and the valley returns to a profound stillness. XII. SOLITUDE, which leads impassioned minds to dream over all the excesses of sorrow and joy, only increased the disturbed thoughts of Petrarch. The picturesque beauty of the scenery and the tranquillity of a heremitic life charmed his eyes, and elevated his mind towards heaven, Qui non palazzi, non teatro, o loggia, Ma in lor vece un abete, un faggio, un pino, But he adds, E il rosignuol che dolcemente all'ombra D'amorosi pensieri il cor m' ingombra. The birds, the flowers, the fountains, and every object that he thought destined by nature to be happy, "conversed with him of love." L'acque parlan d'amore, e l'aura, e i rami, Whenever he endeavoured to fix his thoughts to the contemplation of the real condition of his life, his sorrow became only more intense: 66 Io vo pensando, e nel pensier m'assale Una pietà sì forte di me stesso. My imagination leads me from dream to dream—from mountain to mountain. (I hate ✓ every spot that is inhabited by man; it is only by engraving on the rocks, and in exhausting myself by fatigue,-it is only in the obscurity of the forest that I can find a moment of repose. At every step my thoughts fluctuate between hope and despair, and I should become a prey to uncertainty if ever I became happy-but how, and when?” Di pensier in pensier; di monte in monte Per alti monti e per selve aspre trovo Ad ogni passo nasce un pensier nuovo Or potrebb'esser vero? or come? or quando? "I shall not be believed, yet what I relate has frequently happened. Often in retired spots, when I fancied myself alone, I have seen her appear from the trunk of a tree, from the mouth of a cavern, from a cloud, from I know not where-fear fixed me to the spot I knew not what became of me, nor where to go*." At other times the same illusion would delight him even to ecstasy; and he would fancy himself amidst the eternal joys of paradise, when in his imagination his eyes met the eyes of Laura, and he saw them brighten with a smile of love-a situation which he has described in three lines which no translation can render, and to which no criticism can do justice,: Pace tranquilla, senza alcuno affanno, Simile a quella ch' è nel cielo eterna, In one of those moments of beatific entrancement, he sees Laura rise from the clear waters of the Sorga, repose on its banks, or walk on its waves."I see her every where and always lovely, so that, if I could perpetuate this sweet delusion, I should seek no other happiness on earth." * Carminum Lib. 7. Ep. 7. |