Alas! In vain historians pry and probe: The same wind blows, and in the same live robe Truth bends her head to fingers curved cupwise; And with a woman's smile and a child's care Examines something she is holding there Concealed by her own shoulder from our eyes.

In these lines, “historians” stand for all investigators who believe the past can be fully recovered by methodical scrutiny. Nabokov counters with an image of “Truth” as a living, elusive presence: she bends away, shielding what she holds, offering only a partial, teasing glimpse. The “same wind” and “same live robe” suggest recurrence—human curiosity repeats across eras—yet the object of inquiry remains withheld. The feminine, almost maternal imagery (“woman’s smile,” “child’s care”) makes truth seem intimate and tender rather than abstract, but also capricious: she chooses what to reveal. The passage implies that certainty about origins and motives is always limited, and that the past resists complete possession.