But see how fast already fails the day!
And in the night none ever can ascend:
Best, then, we think of some good resting-place.
Some souls there be, removed here to the right,
Whom, if thou wilt, I’ll show thee face to face,
And thou shalt know them not without delight.”
“How, then,” said Virgil—“should a soul aspire
To climb by night, would other check be found?
Or his own weakness hinder his desire?”
And good Sordello drew along the ground
His finger, saying: “Look! not even this line
May’st thou pass over when the sun hath gone:
Not that aught else, though, would thy power confine,
Save want of light, from journeying upwards on:
Darkness makes impotent thy will. By night
One may go back again, and grope below,
And, while the horizon shuts the day from sight,
Wander about the hillside to and fro.”
My Master then, as ‘twere in wonder, spake:
“Then lead us thitherward where thou hast said,