Being, or not being - that is the question:
Whether it is more noble in the mind to suffer
The scissors and the arrows of scandalous wealth
Or take weapons against a sea of ​​problems
And struggling to end them. Dying, sleeping
No longer - and with sleep to say we'll end
The pain, and the thousand natural collisions
This flesh will inherit. Such is fulfillment
Devinde to be desirable. Dying, sleeping
Sleep - maybe dream: yes, here's the friction,
Because in that sleepy sleep, what maybe dreams
When we dragged this deadly bolt,
It is necessary to give us a break. Here's the respect
This makes a catastrophe of such a long life.
For who would carry the whips and despises of the time,
The repressor is right, the proud man is in a position
The pains of despised love, the delay of the law,
The insolence of the office and the scorn
This patient's deserving benefit,
When he himself could make his calm
With a naked corpse? That fardel would have,
Grunge and sweat during tired life,
But that the fear of something after death,
The untouched country, from whose mourning
No traveler returns, puts in mind the will,
And rather we do those diseases we have
Fly to others we do not know about?
So brings back to consciousness makes our cowards all,
And so the indigenous color of resolution
He is sick with the pale cast,
And a company of great step and moment
In this regard their currents are grieved
And lose the name of action.