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

Married with my uncle

My father's brother, but no more like my father

Than I to Hercules

Within a month...

She married, O most wicked speed, to post

With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!

It is not, nor it cannot come to good

But break, my heart, for I must hold my tongue

To be or not to be

That is the question