How does Hamlet's conclusion on the question of "To be or not to be" develop the

reader's understanding of his character?
"To Be Or Not To Be" Soliloquy
By William Shakespeare
c. 1599
William Shakespeare (1564-1616) was an English poet, playwright, and actor, widely regarded
as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. Hamlet is
one of Shakespeare's most famous tragedies. The play dramatizes the revenge Prince Hamlet is
instructed to enact on his uncle Claudius, who murdered Hamlet's father. In this soliloquy from
Act III, Scene I, a despondent Prince Hamlet contemplates death and suicide while waiting for
Ophelia, his love interest.
As you read, make notes about the way Shakespeare describes life and death.
HAMLET: To be, or not to be — that is the
question:
Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suGer
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 Iesh is heir to. ‘Tis a consummation1
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 shuKed oG this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity2 of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of
time,
Th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely3
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
[1]
[5]
[10]
[15]
1. completetion (of life)
2. Calamity (noun) a misforunate disaster
3. insulting language or treatment
1
"'To Be Or Not To Be' Soliloquy" by William Shakespeare (c.1599) is in the public domain.
Unless otherwise noted, this content is licensed under the CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 license
The insolence4 of oJce, and the spurns
That patient merit of th’ unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus5 make
With a bare bodkin?6 Who would fardels7 bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn8
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than Iy to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. — Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia!9 — Nymph,10 in thy orisons11
Be all my sins remembered. written like a 8th grader