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I walked a bit up and down in the shaft rubbing my arms and shaking my head until I felt ready to try again. - (Priest-Kings of Gor, Chapter 25, Sentence #62)

Shivering and numb and disoriented, I crumpled to the floor beneath it. In the flash of light I had seen the mesh clearly and the shaft beyond and the rings set in the shaft used by Muls who upon occasion clean the shafts and spray them with bactericides. My limbs shaking, clouds of yellow and red fire moving in tangled afterimages across my field of vision in the darkness, I struggled to my feet. I walked a bit up and down in the shaft rubbing my arms and shaking my head until I felt ready to try again. This time, with luck, I could hook my fingers in the grille and hang on. I leaped again and this time managed to fasten my fingers in the grille and cried out in pain, turning my face away from the heat and fire that seemed to transform its surface erupting over my head with torturing, savage incandescence. Then I could no longer release the grille had I wanted to and I hung there agonized, a prisoner of the charges flashing through my body and the bolts wrenched loose from the ceiling, and I fell again to the floor, the grille clattering beside me, my fingers still hooked in its mesh. - (Priest-Kings of Gor)