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Macbeth by William Shakespeare
page 9 of 139 (06%)
I myself have all the other:
And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I' the shipman's card.
I will drain him dry as hay:
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;
He shall live a man forbid:
Weary seven-nights nine times nine
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.--
Look what I have.

SECOND WITCH.
Show me, show me.

FIRST WITCH.
Here I have a pilot's thumb,
Wreck'd as homeward he did come.

[Drum within.]

THIRD WITCH.
A drum, a drum!
Macbeth doth come.

ALL.
The weird sisters, hand in hand,
Posters of the sea and land,
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