reveiws of monologue

Welcome to R.O.M. where stars from the show review monologues, speeches, and poems from famous plays, events, and movies. Now here is Torogae Boverus reviewing, Hamlet's Soliloquy.


Alright lets just get this over with.        

To be or not to be "Well ain't that the question."

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune "What arrows?"                         

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles "How the heck do you fight a sea!?"                          

And by opposing end them. "End what?" To die, to sleep--

No more--and by a sleep to say we end

The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to. "How is flesh an heir to shocks?" '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 "What the heck?! Stop monologing and decide already!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"                      

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause. There's the respect "What respect? IT'S SO OBVIOUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

That makes calamity of so long life.

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely

The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,

The insolence of office, and the spurns   "Spurn? Is it like spawn with a really thick country accent?"

That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,

When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, "A bodkin?................ What's a bodkin? What does it even have to do with this!!!?"

To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

But that the dread of something after death, "Dude just climb into a spaceship, and head to Augaria. I'm pretty sure Ghostons don't dread it cuz they're already dead. 

The undiscovered country, from whose bourn

No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have

Than fly to others that we know not of? "I would but I can't fly."

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, "Coward? Okay, now I'm mad!"

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! -- Nymph, in thy orisons

Be all my sins remembered. "Dude just shut up!!!!! Ira Corai Mireia Dreo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (iron head meteor charge)  (shatter, crash, crumble, ouch)     Shakespeare,  GET A NEW HOBBY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"           (this was all made for the sake of comedy so please don't get the wrong idea  no one in my family really has anything against Will Shakespeare I just think a lot of his plays are really depressing)