Act 3, Scene 1
This world is crude and unforgiving. How can this this life be so oppressive, burdening, scandalous, and unfair. Why do we endure so much pain on this dreadful planet, accepting it, rather than searching desperately for an escape, an escape to a potentially better place? Oh, how I wish I can sleep past all my troubles. This life is so exhausting. Can there be a world better than this? A world with more compassion and less evil is always a better environment. Where is this life leading to? What happens next? If it is rest, then I am excited. I’d much rather be at rest than to be here, where the bad take advantage of the good, and the champions walk around with no respect for anyone but themselves. Therefore, “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 wished! To die, to sleep.” “…For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, th' oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, the pangs of despised 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 undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns, puzzles the will.” It would be easier to end our lives rather than go through earth’s hell. But who will stand and, make this thought a man’s action. No one! Our fear of what may result paralyzes our hands from slicing our heads! If only one who has moved on to the next world can come back to proclaim the good news or bad news. It would certainly make the decision for us as to whether we should live or die.
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