The stories told in the plays of William Shakespeare are among the most beloved in all literature. In this unique three-volume set, award-winning author and historian John Missall retells each play in modern prose while retaining Shakespeare's original language for the characters' conversations. The stories closely follow the action of the plays, retaining the Act/Scene structure of the originals. By using little added embellishment and minimal paraphrasing, the author allows the reader to easily understand these timeless dramatic works and appreciate Shakespeare's powerful yet beautiful wording. Volume I: The Tragedies includes the most familiar works, such as "Hamlet," "MacBeth," and "Romeo & Juliet," plus the lesser-known plays, such as "Coriolanus," "Troilus & Cressida," and "Timon of Athens." Illustrated with numerous Shakespeare-inspired works of art (print version only), "An Ancient Tale New Told" is the perfect tool for those who would like to become familiar with the greatest works in the English language. From the text: Hamlet enters the room, deep in thought and not noticing that Ophelia is there. His mind is still on suicide. "To be or not to be: that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them. To die-to sleep. No more; and by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep." So why not take one's own life? There's a catch: "To sleep, perchance to dream. Aye, 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; for who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely [contempt], the pangs of despised love, the law's delay, the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus [settlement] make with a bare bodkin [dagger]?" It is the fear of the unknown that keeps us from ending our own lives. "Who would fardels [burdens] bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country from whose bourn [borders] no traveler returns, puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have, than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sickled over with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pitch and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action."