<h3>LAURA DE SADE.</h3>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></SPAN></span></p>
<p class="heading">[BORN 1310. DIED 1348.]<br/>
SISMONDI.</p>
<p><ANTIMG src="images/ip.jpg" alt="P" width-obs="70" height-obs="68" class="floatl" />ETRARCH
reproached himself with fostering a passion which had exerted
so powerful an influence over his life, which he had nourished with such
unsubdued constancy for one-and-twenty years, and which still remained
sacred to his heart so long after the loss of its object. This remorse
was groundless. Never did passion burn more purely than in the love of
Petrarch for Laura. Of all the erotic poets, he alone never expresses a
single hope offensive to the purity of a heart which had been pledged to
another. When Petrarch first beheld her, on the 6th of April 1327, Laura
was in the church of Avignon. She was the daughter of Audibert de Noves,
and wife of Hugues de Sade, both of Avignon. When she died of the
plague, on the 6th of April 1348, she had been the mother of eleven
children. Petrarch has celebrated, in upwards of three hundred sonnets,
all the little circumstances of their attachment; those precious favours
which, after an acquaintance of fifteen or twenty years, consisted at
most of a kind word, a glance not altogether severe, a momentary
expression of regret or tenderness at his departure, or a deeper
paleness at the idea of losing her beloved and constant friend.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></SPAN></span></p>
<p>Yet these marks of an attachment so pure and unobtrusive, and which he
had so often struggled to subdue, were repressed by the coldness of
Laura, who, to preserve her lover, cautiously abstained from giving the
least encouragement to his love. She avoided his presence, except at
church, in the brilliant levees of the papal court, or in the country,
where, surrounded by her friends, she is described by Petrarch as
exhibiting the semblance of a queen, prominent amongst them all in the
grace of her figure and the brilliancy of her beauty. It does not appear
that, in the whole course of these twenty years, the poet ever addressed
her unless in the presence of witnesses. An interview with her alone
would surely have been celebrated in a thousand verses; and as he has
left us four sonnets on the good fortune he enjoyed in having an
opportunity of picking up her glove, we may fairly presume that he would
not have passed over in silence so happy a circumstance as a private
interview.</p>
<p>There is no poet in any language so perfectly pure as Petrarch, so
completely above all reproach of levity and immorality; and this merit,
which is equally due to the poet and his Laura, is still more remarkable
when we consider that the models which he followed were by no means
entitled to the same praise. The verses of the troubadours and the
trouv�res were very licentious. The court of Avignon, at which Laura
lived—the Babylon of the West, as the poet himself often terms it—was
filled with the most shameful corruption; and even the popes, more
especially Clement V. and Clement VI., had afforded examples of great
depravity. Indeed, Petrarch himself, in his intercourse with other
ladies, was by no means so reserved. For Laura he had conceived a sort
of religious and enthusiastic passion, such as mystics imagine they feel
towards the Deity, and such as Plato supposes to be the bond of union
between elevated minds. The poets who have succeeded Petrarch have
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></SPAN></span>
amused themselves with giving representations of a similar passion, of
which, in fact, they had little or no experience.</p>
<div class="poem">
<p class="o1">"How jeering crowds have mocked my love-lorn woes;</p>
<p>But folly's fruits are penitence and shame,</p>
<p>With this just maxim, I've too dearly bought—</p>
<p>That man's applause is but a transient dream."</p>
</div>
<div class="figcenter p4">
<ANTIMG src="images/i020.jpg" width-obs="191" height-obs="163" alt="Decoration" /></div>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />