Round about the cauldron go,
In the poisoned entrails throw.
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble,
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
And now about the cauldron sing,
Like elves and fairies in a ring,
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes: -
.: Open, locks, Whoever knocks! :.
Text on this page quoted from Shakespeare's Macbeth Act IV Scene I
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