HAMLET “To be or not to be” monologue)

1 To be, or not to be, that is the question,
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to sufferThe slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,5 And by opposing, end them; to die, to sleepNo more, and by a sleep, to say we endThe heartache, and the thousand natural shocksThat flesh is heir to; 'tis a consummationDevoutly to be wished: to die, to sleep;10 To sleep, perchance to dream; Aye, there's the rub;For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,When we haue shuffled off this mortal coil,Must give us pause; there's the respectThat makes calamity of so long life.15 For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,The insolence of office, and the spurnsThat patient merit of the unworthy takes,20 When he, himself, might his quietus makeWith a bare bodkin; who would fardels bear,To grunt and sweat under a weary life,But that the dread of something after death,The undiscovered country, from whose bourn25 No traveler returns, puzzles the will,And makes us rather bear those ills we have,Then fly to others that we know not of.Thus, conscience does make cowards,And thus the native hue of resolution30 Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,And enterprises of great pitch and moment,With this regard, their currents turn awry,And lose the name of action.

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Modern English Version

1 To be, or not to be, that is the question.
Is it more noble, to my mind, to sufferThe twists and turns of outrageous fortune,Or to take up arms against a sea of troubles,5 And by opposing them, end them? To die, to sleep,(No more than that,) and by a sleep, to say we endThe heartache, and the thousand natural shocksThat human flesh is heir to. It is a consummationDevoutly to be wished: to die, to sleep . . .10 To sleep - perhaps to dream! Yes, there's the rub.For in that sleep of death, the dreams that may come,When we have shuffled off this mortal shell,Must give us pause. There's the wayThat makes for the misery of a longer life.15 For who could bear the whips and scorns of time,The oppressor's wrongs, the arrogant man's contempt,The pain of rejected love, the law's delays,The insolence of office holders, and the kicksThat those who don't deserve them patiently suffer,20 When he, himself, might make his deathWith a bare dagger? Who would bear burdensTo grunt and sweat through a weary lifeExcept for the fear of something after death,The undiscovered country, from whose entry25 No traveler returns. It baffles the willAnd makes us rather bear those ills we haveThan rush to others that we know not.Thus conscience makes cowards . . .And the healthy natural color of resolution30 Is made sickly with the pallor of second thoughts,And enterprises of great energy and importance,Taking all this into account, their progress goes awryAnd they lose the name of action.

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TRADUCCIÓN ESPAÑOLA

1 Ser o no ser, esa es la cuestión.
¿Qué es más noble para el alma
sufrir los golpes y las flechas de la injusta fortuna
o tomar las armas contra un mar de adversidades
5 y oponiéndose a ella, encontrar el fin? Morir, dormir...
nada más; y con un sueño poder decir que acabamos con el sufrimiento del corazón y los mil choques
que por naturaleza son herencia de la carne... Es un final piadosamente deseable. Morir, dormir,
10 dormir... quizá soñar. Ahí está la dificultad.
Ya que en ese sueño de muerte, los sueños que pueden venir
cuando nos hayamos despojado de la confusión de esta vida mortal,
nos hace frenar el impulso. Ahí está el respeto
que hace de tan larga vida una calamidad.
15 Pues quien soportaría los latigazos y los insultos del tiempo,
la injusticia del opresor, el desprecio del orgulloso,
el dolor penetrante de un amor despreciado, la tardanza de la ley,
la insolencia del poder, y los insultos
que el mérito paciente recibe del indigno
20 cuando él mismo podría desquitarse de ellos
con un puñal. Quién cargaría con el castigo de
Quejarse y sudar bajo una vida cansada,
pero el temor a algo después de la muerte –
El país sin descubrir de cuya frontera
25 ningún viajero vuelve- aturde la voluntad
y nos hace soportar los males que sentimos
en vez de volar a otros que desconocemos.
La conciencia nos hace cobardes a todos.
Y así el nativo color de la resolución
30 enferma por el hechizo pálido del pensamiento
y empresas de gran importancia y peso
con lo que a esto se refiere, sus corrientes se desbordan
y pierden el nombre de acción.