'Museum, in thy thoughts be all my visits remembered'

Recently unearthed in the Museum of Unreason archive is this original letter of reflection on museum visiting from a young Billy Shakespeare dated 1588.  It is believed he changed it and used it again for one of his minor plays, I forget which.

To visit, or not to visit--that is the question:

Whether your wallet can suffer 

The entrance fee of outrageous fortune 

Or qualify for a bewildering sea of discounts 

And by choosing enter. To visit, to sleep-- 

No more--and by a sleep to say we're bored 

The headache, and the thousand interpretation panels 

That eyes are witness to. 'Tis then a cup of tea 

Devoutly to be wished. But to visit, not to sleep-- 

To wake--perchance to enjoy: ay, there's the rub, 

For in that interactivity what fun may come 

When we have shuffled off our duffle coats, 

Must give us pause. There's that desire 

That makes bearable so long a visit. 

For who would bear the whips and scorns of museum visits, 

Th' receptionist's wrong, the room steward's contumely 

The pangs of despised stairs, the lift's delay, 

The insolence of staff, and the spurns 

That patient merit of th' visitor takes, 

When he himself might his quietus make 

With a guide book? Who would rubbish buy, 

To grunt and sweat under a weary audio, 

But that the dread of something in the shop, 

The undiscovered marmalade, from whose taste 

No traveller recovers from, puzzles the will, 

And makes us rather bear Tesco's own brand 

Than fly to jam that we know not of? 

Thus a museum does make cowards of us all, 

And thus the prospect of repeat visiting 

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, 

About scones of great depth and hardness 

With this regard their currants turn awry 

And lose the name of edible. -- Soft you now, 

Fair cream tea! -- Museum, in thy thoughts 

Be all my visits remembered.