unsex

Give him tending .
He brings great news .
The raven himself is hoarse
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements . Come , you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts , unsex me here ,
And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full
Of direst cruelty . Make thick my blood .
Stop up th’ access and passage to remorse ,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose , nor keep peace between
Th’ effect and it . Come to my woman’s breasts
And take my milk for gall , you murd’ring ministers ,
Wherever in your sightless substances
You wait on nature’s mischief . Come , thick night ,
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell ,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes ,
Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark
To cry Hold , hold !



Great Glamis , worthy Cawdor ,
Greater than both by the all-hail hereafter !
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present , and I feel now
The future in the instant .