With Rigor Arm your self, (I cry'd)
It is but just and fit;
I merit all this Treatment from your Pride,
All the reproaches of your Wit;
Put on the cruel Tyrant as you will,
But know, my tender Heart adores you still.
Between the Lines.
Literature
The 2010 CIA World Factbook
The Tragedy of Pudd'nhead Wilson
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court
The Motor Girls
The Moorland Cottage
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