"This child," he says, "had a singular resemblance to me, insomuch that any one who had not seen its mother would have taken me for its father." A most interesting letter from Boccaccio to our poet found Petrarch at Pavia, whither he had retired from Milan, wearied with the marriage fetes.

The summer season was now approaching, when he was accustomed to be ill; and he had, besides, got by the accident of a fall a bad contusion on his leg.

He was anxious to return to Padua, and wished to embark on the Po.

But war was abroad; the river banks were crowded with troops of the belligerent parties; and no boatmen could be found for some time who would go with him for love or money.

At last, he found the master of a vessel bold enough to take him aboard.