"Repair," he said, "often to the same retreat.

Make use of my books, which deplore the absence of their owner, and the death of their keeper" (he alluded to his old servant).

"My country-house is the temple of peace, and the home of repose." From the contents of his letter, on this occasion, it is obvious that he had not yet found any spot in Italy where he could determine on fixing himself permanently; otherwise he would not have left his books behind him.
When he wrote about his books, he was little aware of the danger that was impending over them.

On Christmas day a troop of robbers, who had for some time infested the neighbourhood of Vaucluse, set fire to the poet's house, after having taken away everything that they could carry off.

An ancient vault stopped the conflagration, and saved the mansion from being entirely consumed by the flames.