#kingelffe

Thank you to voidedmuffin, purpleprinceblood, and the sbk discord for help with the attacks

To fish, or not to fish, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the swamp to suffer

The fountains of dead fish innumerable,

Or to take arms against a sea of cod

And by opposing end them. To fish—to cast,

Once more; and by a cast to say we win

The heart-ache and the thousand gambles made

That pond is heir to: 'tis an addiction

Devoutly to be fish'd. To fish, to cast;

To cast, perchance to win—ay, there's the rub:

For in that cast of rod what fish may come,

When we have shuffled off this endless Weds',

Shinies give us pause—there's the respect

That makes gamble of so many days.

For who would bear the cods and salmon of time,

The hundredth stick, the proud man's book,

The pangs of lily pads, the pufferfish,

The insolence of junk, and the lights

That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,

When he himself might his legendary take

With a bare bobber? Who would cast more,

To grunt and sweat under a fishers life,

But that the dread of something after cast,

The undiscovere'd Derpalotol, from one's home

The King returns, Mass the will,

And makes to bear those fish he has

Than cast for others that we know not of?

Thus continents doth draw awe from us all,

And new islands expand with haste

Tho' sicklied o'er with reddened cast of tower,

And monuments of great love and sorrow

With this regard their persons turn awry