“Thrice the brinded cat hath mew’d.Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.Harpier cries ’Tis time, ’tis time.Round about the cauldron go;In the poison’d entrails throw.Toad, that under cold stoneDays and nights has thirty-oneSwelter’d venom sleeping got,Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot.Double, double toil and trouble;Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.Fillet of a fenny snake,In the cauldron boil and bake;Eye of newt and toe of frog,Wool of bat and tongue of dog,Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,Lizard’s leg and owlet’s wing,For a charm of powerful trouble,Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,Witches’ mummy, maw and gulfOf the ravin’d salt-sea shark,Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark,Liver of blaspheming Jew,Gall of goat, and slips of yewSilver’d in the moon’s eclipse,Nose of Turk and Tartar’s lips,Finger of birth-strangled babeDitch-deliver’d by a drab,Make the gruel thick and slab:Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,For the ingredients of our cauldron.Double, double toil and trouble;Fire burn and cauldron bubble.By the pricking of my thumbs,Something wicked this way comes.”