Today is Shakespeare Day, sometimes referred to as Talk Like Shakespeare Day. It’s celebrated every year on April 23 to commemorate both the birth and death of William Shakespeare, considered by many as the greatest playwright in the English language.
Notes Wikipedia:
[Hamlet’s] speech is named for the opening phrase, itself among the most widely known and quoted lines in modern English literature, and has been referenced in many works of theatre, literature and music. In the speech, Hamlet contemplates death and suicide, weighing the pain and unfairness of life against the alternative, which might be worse. It is not clear that Hamlet is thinking of his own situation since the speech is entirely in an abstract, somewhat academic register that accords with Hamlet’s status as a (recent) student at Wittenberg University. Furthermore, Hamlet is not alone as he speaks because Ophelia is on stage waiting for him to see her, and Claudius and Polonius have concealed themselves to hear him. Even so, Hamlet seems to consider himself alone and there is no definite indication that the others hear him before he addresses Ophelia, so the speech is almost universally regarded as a sincere soliloquy.
To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die – to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there’s the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause – there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th’oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of dispriz’d love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th’unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovere’d country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience doth make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.
Images: Albert Mwangi as Hamlet at the Parade Theatre, National Institute of Dramatic Art (NIDA), Sydney, Australia – August 2020.
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