“She hasn’t much on!” the other responded with a gay laugh. He caught the broad collar of Elisaveta’s dress with one hand and jerked it forward; he thrust the other hand, large, hot, and perspiring, under her chemise and pressed and squeezed her taut young breast. “Two men against one woman--aren’t you ashamed?” said Elisaveta. “Don’t be ashamed, my lass, and lie down on the grass,” exclaimed the handsome, swarthy one, with a laugh very much like a horse’s neigh. His white teeth gleamed, his eyes flamed with desire, as he tore Elisaveta’s clothes with his hands and his teeth. The red and the white roses of her body were soon bared. The sensual breathing of the assailants was horrible and repugnant to her, and she found it no less horrible and repugnant to look at their perspiring faces, at the gleaming of their enkindled eyes. But their beauty was tempting. In the dark depths of her consciousness a thought struggled--to yield herself, to yield willingly. Her dress and chemise, flimsy of texture, ripped with a barely audible noise. Elisaveta struggled desperately, and shouted something--she did not remember what. All her clothes were already torn, and soon the last shreds of her very light garments fell from her naked body. And in the struggle the rags of the two clumsily moving men ripped with a loud, splitting sound, their sudden nakedness rousing them even more. There was seductiveness for Elisaveta in the nakedness of these impetuous bodies. She taunted them: “The two of you can’t manage one girl.” She was strong and agile. It was difficult for them to conquer her. Her naked body struggled and wriggled itself out of their arms. The blue arch of her teeth on the naked shoulder of the handsome, swarthy man grew red quickly. Drops of dark blood spurted on to his naked torso. “Wait, you carrion-flesh,” he cried in a hoarse voice, “I will....” The powerful but awkward pair grew more and more exasperated. They were enraged and intoxicated by her extraordinary resistance, by the falling away of their rags and their sudden nakedness. They beat Elisaveta, in the beginning with their fists, later with quickly severed branches, or with those which already lay on the ground. The sharp fires of pain stung her naked body and tempted her with a burning temptation to yield herself willingly. But she did not yield herself. Her loud sobs resounded for some distance around her. The struggle continued for a long time. Elisaveta already began to weaken, and the raging passions of the two men had not yet exhausted themselves. Naked and savage, the lips of their wry mouths grown blue, their blood-inflamed eyes gleaming dimly, they were on the point of drawing her down to the ground.