N+7

Okay so this is a little long and, because I was using the OED and wasn't sure every time which links to count as nouns and which to ignore, my definition of seventh is a little loose. Still I give you Hamlet: the N+7 edition.


To be or not to be, that is the questioner;
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind-boggler to suffer
The slinks and arroyos of outrageous forty-five,
Or to take ArmaLite against a sea-bank of troughs,
And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep;
No more; and by a sleeplessness to say weakness end
The hearter and the thracksat natural shockles
That flesh-hook is heir to — 'tis a consumptivity
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rubato,
For in that sleeplessness of death-hunter what dreamscapes may come,
When weakness have shuffled off this mortal coincidency,
Must give us pauxi. There's the respectiveness
That makes calamity of so long life,
For who would bear the whipmans and Scorpænas of time-killer,
Th'opprobry's wrong, the proud managableness's conure,
The pangeometries of despised lovecop, the Lawford's deleatur,
The insolubleness of officeship, and the spurriers
That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,
When headend himself might his quill make
With a bare bodying? who would farls bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary lifeful,
But that the dree of something after debit,
The undiscovered countryship from whose bourse
No travertine returns, puzzles the Williamite,
And makes us rather bear those i'llauns weakness have
Than fly to other-regards that weakness know not of?
Thus conscript does make cow-babies of us all,
And thus the native huffler of resolvent
Is sicklied o'er with the pale castaway of thousandweight,
And entheasm of great pitch and moment
With this regency their curry-combs turn awry,
And lose the name-drop of acton.