comforted, and told him where she had laid her clothes. The scholar then
quitted the tower, bidding his servant on no account to stir from his
post, but to keep close by, and, as best he might, bar the tower against
all comers until his return: which said, he betook him to the house of
his friend, where he breakfasted much at his ease, and thereafter went to
sleep. Left alone upon the tower, the lady, somewhat cheered by her fond
hope, but still exceeding sorrowful, drew nigh to a part of the wall
where there was a little shade, and there sate down to wait. And now lost
in most melancholy brooding, now dissolved in tears, now plunged in
despair of ever seeing the scholar return with her clothes, but never
more than a brief while in any one mood, spent with grief and the night's
vigil, she by and by fell asleep. The sun was now in the zenith, and
smote with extreme fervour full and unmitigated upon her tender and
delicate frame, and upon her bare head, insomuch that his rays did not
only scorch but bit by bit excoriate every part of her flesh that was
exposed to them, and so shrewdly burn her that, albeit she was in a deep
sleep, the pain awoke her. And as by reason thereof she writhed a little,
she felt the scorched skin part in sunder and shed itself, as will happen
when one tugs at a parchment that has been singed by the fire, while her
head ached so sore that it seemed like to split, and no wonder. Nor might
she find place either to lie or to stand on the floor of the roof, but
ever went to and fro, weeping. Besides which there stirred not the least
breath of wind, and flies and gadflies did swarm in prodigious quantity,
which, settling upon her excoriate flesh, stung her so shrewdly that
'twas as if she received so many stabs with a javelin, and she was ever
restlessly feeling her sores with her hands, and cursing herself, her
life, her lover, and the scholar.

Thus by the exorbitant heat of the sun, by the flies and gadflies,
harassed, goaded, and lacerated, tormented also by hunger, and yet more