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Surely she is no ordinary creature But some angelic spirit come to earth.
Days passed, and with the days, in Moola's breast Grew a great jealousy all unexpressed, Which, unsuspected, lengthened, wide-awake, Slowly into a sneaking, slimy snake, Stark venom dripping from its pointed fangs A deadly mood in her had come to stay Consuming her with hate which spread a heat Through rib and flesh....
One day she saw a sight Which roused her snake of jealousy to meet Its vital moment for a fatal bite. She saw the maiden wash her husband's feet With such fond love as she had never known. ''So now", she said, "the drama is complete Leaving in me no room to doubt my doubt. My poison-snake shall gnaw her, limb and bone: The play is done; the lights must be put out !""
One morning, when the merchant left the house On business and went into the city, Moola, with vengeance burning on her brows, Sent for a barber, and devoid of pity, Wrathful decision in her tone, she said: "Dry up that flowing cataract of hair, And with your favourite razor shave her head, Yea! every inch of it-and leave it bare !"
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