Act One, Sence Five

LADY MACBETH
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 the access and passage to remorse,
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell purpose nor keep peace between
The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for gall, you 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!”

Translation
The messenger's voice is cracking
As he informs me the King is soon to arrive
to my castle. Come you spirits
That tends to my unworthy thoughts of evil, take away my womanhood
And fill me from my head to the top of my toe, full
Of my awful sins; make my blood strong
Stop me from regretting what is not a sin,
That the thoughts of my cruelty do not return
Let me do what I set out to do, my conscience is clear
Come to my woman's breasts,
And take my milk for poison, you murdering ministers,
Wherever in the night with out light
You wait on mischief, come heavy in the night,
And suffer in the thick smoke of hell,
That my dagger see not the wound is makes,
Or that heaven lifts up the blanket of evil and see what is being destoryed
To cry 'Stop, stop!'