by Anonymous ( Parody of Hamlet's celebrated soliloquy ) To wed, or not to wed... that is the question; Whether 'tis happier in the mind to stifle The heats and tumults of outrageous passion, Or with some prudent fair in solemn contract Of matrimony join. To have... to hold... No more... and by that 'have' to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand love-sick pangs Of celibacy... t'were a consummation Devoutly to be wished. In nuptial band To join till death dissolves... ay, there's the rub; For in that space what dull remorse may come, When we have taken our solemn leave of liberty, Must give us pause. There's this respect That slacks our speed in suing for a change: Else, who would bear the scorns and sneers which bachelors When aged feel... the pains and fluttering fevers Which each new face must give a roving fancy, When he might rid himself at once of all By a bare Yes. Who would with patience bear To fret and linger out a single life, But that the dread of something untried, Some hazard in a state from whose strict bond Death only can release, puzzles the will, And makes us rather choose those ills we have Than fly to others which we fancy greater? This last reflection makes us slow and weary, Filling the dubious mind with dreadful thoughts Of curtain-lectures, jealousies, and cares Extravagantly great, entailed on wedlock Which to avoid, the lover checks his passion, And, miserable, dies a bachelor.
The end