Macbeth

Sergeant

                                   Doubtful it stood,
As two spent swimmers that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonald —

Sergeant

As whence the sun 'gins his reflection,
Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
So from that spring, whence comfort seemed to come,
Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark.

Ross

The Thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict,
Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapped in proof,
Confronted him with self-comparisons,
Point against point, rebellious arm 'gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit; and, to conclude,
The victory fell on us —

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