Two beer, or not two beer; that is the question:
Whether ‘tis nobler with the company to drain
The cups and goblets of beer mix'd with vodka,
Or to take throats against a sea of whiskey,
And by the drinking end it? - To drink; - To drain; -
No more; and by a gulp to say we end
The tankards and the thousands cups of wine
That wineshop's heir to, - ‘tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To drink; - To drain; -
To drain! Perchance a toast; - ay, there's the rub;
For with that gulp of thirst what wine may come,
When we have gulp'd down this velvet beer,
Must give us drain: there's the respect
That makes the drunkenness of our lives;
For who would bear the beer and wine of spree,
The wodka's overdose, the drunk friend's conversation,
The pungs of dispised toast; the gulp's delay,
The insolence of sobers, and the spurns
That patient toper of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his tankard fill
From his own bottle? Who would these bottles bear,
To grunt and sweat and a weary wine,
But that the dread of something after drink,
The battery of bottles from where bourn
No confirmed drunkard turns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather drink this beer we have
Than fly to other that we know not of?
Thus drinking does make drunkards of us all,
And thus the velvet beer in our tankards
Is sicklied o'er with the drunk cast of sleep,
And enterprises of great spree and orgy
With drunkenness their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of pleasure.
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