Giovanni Boccaccio entertained a lifelong friendship with his contemporary Francesco Petrarca, which became particularly close after their meeting in 1350. His admiration for Dante was sparked very early on and lasted to the end of his life. Unlike his two mentors, however, Boccaccio does not place his persona at the centre of his work but rather, somewhat slyly, at the periphery. At times he takes on the role of voyeur, as in the Caccia di Diana, and above all in the Comedia delle ninfe fiorentine in which the author turns up unexpectedly at the very end (XLIX, 1–6), crouching in the thick greenery where, hidden from view, he has watched the beautiful nymphs and listened to the tales of their joyful and charming loves. At other times, poking fun at his envious detractors, apparently all too solicitous of his reputation and wellbeing, he takes on a tone of amused self-effacement and feigned humility: ‘In the course of my lifelong efforts to escape the fierce onslaught of those turbulent winds [of envy], I have always made a point of going quietly and unseen about my affairs, not only keeping to the lowlands but occasionally directing my steps through the deepest of deep valleys’ (Dec. IV, Intr.). More often Boccaccio's ubiquitous, elusive presence is entrusted to a subtle play of allusions scattered here and there among his fictional characters, notably Idalogo, Caleon, Fileno in Filocolo, Ibrida, Caleon in Comedia delle ninfe, Dioneo in the Decameron, and possibly even Fiammetta (reversing the gender roles) in Elegia di Madonna Fiammetta.