Doubtful it stood;
As two spent swimmers, that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald–
Worthy to be a rebel, for to that
The multiplying villanies of nature
Do swarm upon him–from the western isles
Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied;
And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling,
Show’d like a rebel’s whore: but all’s too weak:
For brave Macbeth–well he deserves that name–
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish’d steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour’s minion carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave;
Which ne’er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him,
Till he unseam’d him from the nave to the chaps,
And fix’d his head upon our battlements.
You couldn’t tell who was going to win
It was like two tired swimmers, grabbing each other
Struggling to drown each other. The evil rebel Macdonwald
Protected by increasing amount of villains supporting him.
Even soldiers from the Western Isles helped him.
Luck was like a prostitute for him, however they were still to weak.
As the courage of Macbeth got rid of that luck
And chopped himself a route to Macdonwald.
Macbeth never shook his hand or said goodbye but
Cut him from the his naval to his jaw with his sword and
Placed his head on our battlements.

September 20, 2016 at 7:25 pm
You are simply a marvel.