Here, cut some off.

You men have strange cutting things about you." She shook her long hair loose over me, never moving her arms.
"I cannot cut your beautiful hair.

It would be a shame." "Not cut my hair! It will have grown long enough before any is wanted again in this wild forest.

Perhaps it may never be of any use again--not till I am a woman." And she sighed.
As gently as I could, I cut with a knife a long tress of flowing, dark hair, she hanging her beautiful head over me.

When I had finished, she shuddered and breathed deep, as one does when an acute pain, steadfastly endured without sign of suffering, is at length relaxed.