This final act of the Soliloquy Trilogy finds us considering the dreams beyond this plane of existence, the moments that might be but can only be seen if one is willing to never return. And thus, as the eponymous king says, “there’s the rub.”
“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—’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
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.”
