into a
leaden chest." After the obsequies, "the king of England made his
children recognise ... the young _damoisel_ Richard to be king after his
death." He sends delegates to Bruges to treat of the marriage of his
heir, aged ten, with "Madame Marie, daughter of the king of France"; in
February other ambassadors are appointed on both sides: "Towards Lent, a
secret treaty was made between the two kings for their party to be at
Montreuil-on-sea. Thus were sent to Calais, by the English, Messire
Guichard d'Angle, Richard Stury, and Geoffrey Chaucer."[472] The
negotiation failed, but the poet's services seem nevertheless to have
been appreciated, for in the following year he is again on the highways.
He negotiates in France, in company with the same Sir Guichard, now
become earl of Huntingdon; and again in Italy, where he has to treat
with his compatriot Hawkwood,[473] who led, in the most agreeable
manner possible, the life of a condottiere for the benefit of the Pope,
and of any republic that paid him well.

These journeys to Italy had a considerable influence on Chaucer's mind.
Already in that privileged land the Renaissance was beginning. Italy
had, in that century, three of her greatest poets: the one whom Virgil
had conducted to the abode of "the doomed race" was dead; but the other
two, Petrarch and Boccaccio, still lived, secluded, in the abode which
was to be their last on earth, one at Arqua, near Padua, the other in
the little fortified village of Certaldo, near Florence.

In art, it is the century of Giotto, Orcagna, and Andrew of Pisa.
Chaucer saw, all fresh still in their glowing colours, frescoes that
time has long faded. Those old things were then young, and what seems to
us the first steps of an art, uncertain yet in its tread, seemed to
contemporaries the supreme effort of the audacious, who represented the
new times.

Chaucer's own testimony is proof to us that he saw, heard, and learnt as
much as possible; that he went as far as he could, letting himself be
guided by "adventure, that is the moder of tydinges." He arrived without
any preconceived ideas, curious to know what occupied men's minds, as
attentive as on the threshold of his "Hous of Fame":

For certeynly, he that me made
To comen hider, seyde me,
I shulde bothe here et see,
In this place wonder thinges ...
For yit peraventure, I may lere
Some good ther-on, or sumwhat here,
That leef me were, or that I wente.[