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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.
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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.
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