When with these pictures they their sight had fed,

  And talked long while — these ladies and the rest —

  They to their chambers by that Lord were led,

  Wont much to worship every worthy guest.

  Already all were sleeping, when her bed

  At last Duke Aymon's beauteous daughter prest.

  She here, she there, her restless body throws,

  Now right, now left, but vainly seeks repose: