Duchess: Who am I?
Bosola: Thou art a box of worm-seed, at best but a
salvatory of green mummy.
The stage is about to be swept of corpses.
You have no more chance than an infusorian
Lodged in a hollow molar of an eohippus.
Come, now, no prattle of remergence with the
ovtws ov.(Greek word)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem