What a lonely and desolate place this is. And something smells rotten. TO BE OR NOT TO BE, THAT IS THE QUESTION! Hey! Is there anyone here? Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind… … to suffer the slings and arrows… … of outrageous fortune… Hey! Excuse me! Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing – end them. To die – to sleep – no more… Excuse me! Who dares trouble me thus in my soliloquy? solilo what? Soliloquy. My occasion to impart my inner thoughts upon the audience. Oh, I thought you were just talking to yourself. And who might you be, little man? I am the little prince. I come from far away. I am a prince too! Of this forlorn realm we call Denmark. My planet has no name. But it has a flower, and three volcanoes… One extinct… No matter. What is life but vanity? A fleeting shadow… Is there anyone else on this planet? Doe’st thou knowest Yorick? Yorick? What a strange name! Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio. Horatio? Who is this Horatio? … A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He has borne me on his back a thousand times… There he goes again… Excuse me! Dare you trouble my soliloquy once more? Impertinent youth! – I must get back to my planet. And how, pray thee, shalt thou accomplish it? My body being too heavy to fly, a venomous bite must I endure… Oh dear, I am starting to speak like him! ‘Tis catching. A dear fellow taught me how to speak thus, and henceforth I cannot stop! A venomous bite, say you? Why, I might just have the recipe. You have a snake? Not per se, but I do possess his venom. And where pray might that be? Upon my very person. Shall we partake of this unfortunate elixir? Someone told me that I will seem dead, but I will be merely sleeping, and dreaming of my planet and of my flower… For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil… Shall we get on with the shuffling? Oh! Horatio!… Venom, do thy work! Goodbye, dear flower. I’ll see you soon. I die, Horatio… There’s this Horatio again… The potent poison quite o’er-crows my spirit. The rest is silence.