Come, you spitits
That tend on mortal thoughts,
Unsex me here,
Make thick my blood.
Come, thick Night
Thay my keen knife see not
The wound is makes,
Nor heaven peep
Through the dark,
To cry "Hold, hold".
That tend on mortal thoughts,
Unsex me here,
Make thick my blood.
Come, thick Night
Thay my keen knife see not
The wound is makes,
Nor heaven peep
Through the dark,
To cry "Hold, hold".