To Be Adored or Unadored…

That is the question.

Whether “‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,”
or to take legal action against a sea of trouble,
and by opposing, end the relationship,
finding solace and peace… at last.

Such is the quandary that one can imagine
a certain wife of power debates each night
gazing at the ceiling,
wondering what fate of betrayal awaits her
the next day,
and the next.

“For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th'unworthy takes…”

No woman asks for such a quandary,
yet many of lesser risk face such
conundrums of mating each and every day.

So…

Rise up, for to “...grunt and sweat under a weary life,
but that the dread of something after death,
the undiscovered country, from whose bourn
no traveler returns, puzzles the will,
and makes us rather bear those ills we have
than fly to others that we know not of...”

Oh, the folly…

To be adored or admired?

No two should be together unadored,
but to not even be admired
is also “th’oppressor’s wrong,
the proud man’s contumely...”

“Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
and thus the native hue of resolution
is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
and enterprises of great pitch and moment
with this regard their currents turn awry
and love the name of action.”

Mistakes deserve considerate reversals.

To be adored or unadored?

Move on First Lady. Move on.