MACBETH I conjure you, by that which you profess, Howeer you come to know it, answer me: Though you untie the winds and let them fight Against the churches; though the yesty waves Confound and swallow navigation up; Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down; Though castles topple on their warders heads; Though palaces and pyramids do slope Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure Of natures germains tumble all together, Even till destruction sicken, answer me To what I ask you.
Posted on: Thu, 31 Oct 2013 15:14:12 +0000
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