Gedichten uit de wereldliteratuur/To be or not to be: verschil tussen versies

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{{Gedichten uit de wereldliteratuur}}
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|'''To be or not to be'''<p>
To be or not to be, that is the question;<br />
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer<br />
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,<br />
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,<br />
And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep;<br />
No more; and by a sleep to say we end<br />
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks<br />
That flesh is heir to — 'tis a consummation<br />
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;<br />
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub,<br />
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,<br />
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,<br />
Must give us pause. There's the respect<br />
That makes calamity of so long life,<br />
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,<br />
Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,<br />
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,<br />
The insolence of office, and the spurns<br />
That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,<br />
When he himself might his quietus make<br />
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,<br />
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,<br />
But that the dread of something after death,<br />
The undiscovered country from whose bourn<br />
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,<br />
And makes us rather bear those ills we have<br />
Than fly to others that we know not of?<br />
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,<br />
And thus the native hue of resolution<br />
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,<br />
And enterprises of great pitch and moment<br />
With this regard their currents turn awry,<br />
And lose the name of action.<br />
Soft you now! The fair Ophelia! Nymph,<br />
in thy orisons be all my sins remember'd.</p>
|}
De versregel "'''To be, or not to be''' (that is the question)" komt uit [[Shakespeares sonnetten/William Shakespeare|William Shakespeare]]s ''Hamlet'' (Act III, Scene I), geschreven omstreeks 1600. Het is een van de meest aangehaalde citaten uit de hele wereldliteratuur en ook het bekendste fragment uit de monoloog van Hamlet.
 
Na een onbezorgde jeugd wankelt het wereldbeeld van de jonge Hamlet: zijn vader wordt vermoord, hij komt te weten dat zijn oom Claudius, die zich de troon heeft toegeëigend, de moordenaar is. Bovendien trouwt zijn moeder kort na de dood van zijn vader met Claudius. De geest van zijn vader verschijnt aan hem en vertelt hem alles, ook over zijn eigen slechtheid. Hamlet wil eigenlijk vluchten uit deze slechte wereld en overweegt zelfmoord:
 
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==Vertaling==
 
 
;Monoloog van Hamlet uit Act III, scene I:
 
:Te zijn of niet te zijn, dat is de kwestie:
:of het nobeler is om te lijden
Regel 77 ⟶ 42:
 
:::::<small>- ''(vertaling: J. Grandgagnage)''</small> <ref>[https://sites.google.com/site/shakespearevertalingen/tragedies/hamlet Vertaling op "Shakespearevertalingen": ''Te zijn of niet te zijn''].</ref>
 
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;Originele tekst van Shakespeare
:To be or not to be, that is the question;<br />
:Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer<br />
:The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,<br />
:Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,<br />
:And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep;<br />
:No more; and by a sleep to say we end<br />
:The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks<br />
:That flesh is heir to — 'tis a consummation<br />
:Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;<br />
:To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub,<br />
:For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,<br />
:When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,<br />
:Must give us pause. There's the respect<br />
:That makes calamity of so long life,<br />
:For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,<br />
:Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,<br />
:The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,<br />
:The insolence of office, and the spurns<br />
:That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,<br />
:When he himself might his quietus make<br />
:With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,<br />
:To grunt and sweat under a weary life,<br />
:But that the dread of something after death,<br />
:The undiscovered country from whose bourn<br />
:No traveller returns, puzzles the will,<br />
:And makes us rather bear those ills we have<br />
:Than fly to others that we know not of?<br />
:Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,<br />
:And thus the native hue of resolution<br />
:Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,<br />
:And enterprises of great pitch and moment<br />
:With this regard their currents turn awry,<br />
:And lose the name of action.<br />
:Soft you now! The fair Ophelia! Nymph,<br />
:in thy orisons be all my sins remember'd.</p>
 
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