Read: The Werewolf Epic

The addition:

So she with dimming hope complains: Mother!
How great your mouth has grown. This kiss, I like
it not! To lightly peck my cheek you’ve oft
leaned down, blessing me with your love, yet here,
something has changed. How is it that this kiss
instead of giving seems to take? Within
your jaw curved fangs sprouting freeze cold my blood.

The beast thus mocked: All better more to eat
you with! And here forcing her lips to his
planted love’s forgeries, as like in form
to passion ordinate; thus animals
and man with motions similar make love,
yet man without consent degrades beneath
this dumb mating. So in the rising tide
of his hunger, the ravisher unveils.
Out of your skin he swiftly comes, throwing
away disguise as if you were bursting
wineskin, and he your spilling blood come forth.