The Bachelor’s Soliloquy

To wed, or not to wed; that is the question;

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The bills and house rent of a wedded fortune,

Or to say “nit” when she proposes,

And by declining cut her. To wed; to smoke

No more; And have a wife at home to mend

The holes in socks and shirts

And underwear and so forth. ’Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wished. To wed for life;

To wed; perchance to fight; ay, there’s the rub;

For in that married life what fights may come,

When we have honeymooning ceased

Must give us pause; there’s the respect

That makes the joy of single life.

For who would bear her mother’s scornful tongue,

Canned goods for tea, the dying furnace fire;

The pangs of sleepless nights when baby cries;

The pain of barking shins upon a chair and

Closing waists that button down the back,

When he himself might all these troubles shirk

With a bare refusal? Who would bundles bear,

And grunt and sweat under a shopping load?

Who would samples match; buy rats for hair,

Cart cheese and crackers home to serve at night

For lunch to feed your friends; play pedro

After tea; sing rag time songs, amusing

Friendly neighbors. Buy garden tools

To lend unto the same. Stay home at nights

In smoking coat and slippers and slink to bed

At ten o’clock to save the light bills?

Thus duty does make cowards of us all,

And thus the native hue of matrimony

Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of chores;

And thus the gloss of marriage fades away,

And loses its attraction.