Ms. Vaughn:
"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 the access and passage
to remorse, that no
compunctious visiting of
nature shake my fell purpose.
Come to my woman's breasts, and
take my milk for gall, your
murdering 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!""