名人诗歌|To be, or not to be

from Hamlet , William Shakespeare

To be, or not to be: that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings^{1 and arrows of outrageous2 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 heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation

Devoutly^{3 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^{4 off this mortal coil,}

Must give us pause: there's the respect

That makes calamity^{5 of so long life;}

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

The pangs^{6 of despised love, the law's delay,}

The insolence^{7 of office and the spurns8}

That patient merit of the unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,

To grunt^{9 and sweat under a weary life,}

But that the dread^{10 of something after death,}

The undiscover'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 does make cowards of us all;

And thus the native hue^{11 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^12,

And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!

The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remember'd.