Soliloquy Cut (Hamlet)

HAMLET
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
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.