Petrarch felt his situation, and, unable to calm his mind either by the advice of his friend Dionisio dal Borgo, or by the perusal of his favourite author, St.Augustine, he resolved to seek a rural retreat, where he might at least hide his tears and his mortification.
Unhappily he chose a spot not far enough from Laura--namely, Vaucluse, which is fifteen Italian, or about fourteen English, miles from Avignon.
Vaucluse, or Vallis Clausa, the shut-up valley, is a most beautiful spot, watered by the windings of the Sorgue.

Along the river there are on one side most verdant plains and meadows, here and there shadowed by trees.

On the other side are hills covered with corn and vineyards.
Where the Sorgue rises, the view terminates in the cloud-capt ridges of the mountains Luberoux and Ventoux.

This was the place which Petrarch had visited with such delight when he was a schoolboy, and at the sight of which he exclaimed "that he would prefer it as a residence to the most splendid city." It is, indeed, one of the loveliest seclusions in the world.

It terminates in a semicircle of rocks of stupendous height, that seem to have been hewn down perpendicularly.