noon
he was a poet , like his friend Dante , like that supercilious young tomb-walker Guido Cavalcanti . A poet he undoubtedly became ; and if his feet were cold his heart was on fire . What happened was this , so far as I am informed . At the north angle of the church of San Giovanni fuori Civitas there is a narrow lane , so dark that at very noon no sunlight comes in but upon blue bars of dust slant-wise overhead . This lay upon Cino 's daily beat from his lodgings to the Podestà ; -LSB- 1 -RSB- and here it was that he met Selvaggia Vergiolesi . She was one of three young girls walking hand in hand up the alley on their way from early mass , the tallest where all were tall , and , as it seemed to him when he dreamed of it , astonishingly beautiful . Though they were very young , they were ladies of rank ; their heads were high and crowned , their gowns of figured brocade ; they had chains round their necks , and each a jewel on her forehead ; by chains also swung their little mass-books in silver covers .