“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.”

“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. Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble.”

“Double, double, toil and trouble;Fire burn, and cauldron bubble!”

“Oh, come and stir my cauldron,And if you do it right,I'll boil you up some hot strong loveTo keep you warm tonight.”

“I looked at Judith. "This sounds strange, but I don't suppose you saw three mad women with a cauldron of boiling tea pass by this way?""No," she replied. The polite voice of reasonable people scared of exciting the madman."Flash of light? Puff of smoke? Erm..." I tried to find a polite way of describing the symptoms of spontaneous teleportation without using the dreaded "teleportation" word. I failed. I slumped back into the sand. What kind of mystic kept a spatial vortex at the bottom of their cauldrons of tea anyway?”

“Take her to the kitchen,” came the order. “If she lies, throw her in the cauldron."“He was jesting about the cauldron, wasn’t he?You cannot have a cauldron big enough for a person?”Bard halted, sighed, looked at her with those wide, liquid eyes.“We,” he said, “have knives.”