What for? when by moustache and beard we end
The nuisance thus encouraging the locks
That flesh is hair to—’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To shave? To swear?
To swear! perchance, an oath—ay, there’s the rub;
For as we shave, perhaps the razor slips,
And as we barberously hack our chin,
Must we then pause; in every respect
There is calamity in such a shave.
Oh, who would bear shivering in the cold