Agility Version

To be midi or not to be: that is the question:/

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer /

The slings and measures of outrageous inches,/

Or to take arms against a sea of judges,/

And by opposing end them?

To shrink: to creep;/

No more; and by a creep to say we bend /

The jump height and the thousand natural leaps/

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation/

Devoutly to be wished. To shrink, to creep;/

To creep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub./

For in that creep to mini height what dreams may come/

When we have shuffled off Ring Four,/

Must give us pause. There's the respect/

That makes calamity of so high jumps;/

For who would bear the whips and scorns of judges,/

The show manager's wrong, the proud scrimer's contumely,/

The pangs of disprized rosettes, the Kennel Club’s delay.

Original

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 heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks/

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation/

Devoutly to be wished. 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 off this mortal coil,/

Must give us pause. There's the respect /

That makes calamity 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 of disprized love, the law's delay.