“I have followed him, step by step,” he says, “in the cities where he lived, in the mountains where he wandered, in the asylums that welcomed him, always guided by the poem, in which he has recorded, with all the sentiments of his soul and all the speculations of his intelligence, all the recollections of his life; a poem which is no less a confession than a vast encyclopaedia.”

See also the Letter of Frate Ilario, the passage from the Convito . ↩

Boethius, Consolation of Philosophy , I Prosa 4, Ridpath’s Tr. :⁠—