Hearth Interactive

Places

Avignon

The seat of the popes and their court in the 1300s, where Petrarch first saw Laura. He often called it Babylon for its worldliness.

Today: Avignon, Vaucluse, France

Laura, in the Margins of His Virgil

Petrarch, note in his manuscript of Virgil, as transcribed by Pierre de Nolhac, Pétrarque et l’humanisme (1907) · 1348 or soon after

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Laurea, propriis uirtutibus illustris et meis longum celebrata carminibus, primum oculis meis apparuit sub primum adolescentie mee tempus, anno Domini m° iijc xxviij die vj° mensis Aprilis in ecclesia sancte Clare Auin. hora matutina; et in eadem ciuitate eodem mense Aprili eodem die sexto eadem hora prima, anno autem m° iijc xlviij° ab hac luce lux illa subtracta est, cum ego forte tunc Verone essem, heu! fati mei nescius.

Laura, famous for her own virtues and long celebrated in my poems, first appeared to my eyes in the early days of my youth, on April 6 in the year of our Lord 1327, in the church of Saint Clare at Avignon, in the morning. And in the same city, in the same month of April, on the same sixth day, at the same first hour, but in the year 1348, that light was taken from this light of day. I happened to be at Verona then, alas, unaware of what had befallen me.

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Hec autem ad acerbam rei memoriam amara quadam dulcedine scribere uisum est, hoc potissimum loco qui sepe sub oculis meis redit, ut scilicet nichil esse debere quod amplius mihi placeat in hac uita et, effracto maiori laqueo, tempus esse de Babilone fugiendi crebra horum inspectione ac fugacissime etatis estimatione conmonear, quod, preuia Dei gratia, facile erit preteriti temporis curas superuacuas spes inanes et inexpectatos exitus acriter ac uiriliter cogitanti.

I have decided to write this down, with a kind of bitter sweetness, in memory of that painful event. I write it here above all, in a place that often comes back before my eyes. Seeing these words often, and reckoning how fast life flies, will remind me that nothing in this life should please me any longer. Now that the greatest snare is broken, it is time to flee from Babylon. With God’s grace leading the way, that will be easy, if I think hard and bravely about the useless cares, empty hopes, and unexpected endings of the past.

The Great Mortality in Paris, 1348–1349

Jean de Venette (attributed), Continuation of the Chronicle of William of Nangis, edited by Hercule Géraud (1843) · about 1360 (events of 1348–1349)

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Dicta autem mortalitas, ut dicitur, inter incredulos inchoavit, deinde ad Italiam venit; postea montes pertransiens ad Avinionem accessit, ubi etiam aliquos dominos cardinales invasit; totam familiam abstulit tunc ab eis. Deinde per Vasconiam et Hispaniam paulative de villa ad villam, de vico ad vicum, et ultimo de domo ad domum, imo de persona ad personam inopinate ad has partes gallicanas accedens, usque ad Alemanniam transivit, minus tamen ad ipsos quam ad nos.

This mortality began, people say, among the unbelievers, and then came to Italy. Next it crossed the mountains and reached Avignon, where it struck some of the lord cardinals and carried off their whole households. Then it moved little by little through Gascony and Spain, from town to town, from village to village, then from house to house, and even from person to person. It came unexpectedly to these parts of France and passed on into Germany, though it hit them less hard than us.