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The rape.

Posted Oct 01 2008 5:08pm


"'If you will not sell me any 
Of your fruits though much and many, 
Give me back my silver penny 
I toss'd you for a fee.'
They began to scratch their pates, 
No longer wagging, purring, 
But visibly demurring, 
Grunting and snarling. 
One call'd her proud, 
Cross-grain'd, uncivil; 
Their tones wax'd loud, 
Their look were evil. 
Lashing their tails 
They trod and hustled her, 
Elbow'd and jostled her, 
Claw'd with their nails, 
Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking, 
Tore her gown and soil'd her stocking, 
Twitch'd her hair out by the roots, 
Stamp'd upon her tender feet, 
Held her hands and squeez'd their fruits 
Against her mouth to make her eat."
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