MickieB: Thou losest labour:
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress as make me bleed:
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
I bear a charmed life, which must not yield,
To one of woman born.
MacDuff: Despair thy charm;
And let the angel whom thou still hast served
Tell thee, Macduff has two men listed on
His birth certificate!
MickieB: Accursed be that tongue that tells me so,
For it hath cow'd my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believed,
That palter with us in a double sense;
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope. I'll not fight with thee.
MacDuff: Then yield thee, bigot!