Macbeth ponders the meaning of trading during a market slump:

Investing, and investing, and investing,
Sinks to new creepy depths from day to day
As battered equities do tumble time,
And all the cap gains we thought secure
Just flit away like dreams. Rise, rise, down market!
Stocks now dwell in the shadows, a poor play
Of daily dips and slips that conjure rage
And then decline some more. It’s a fire sale,
Fanned by media clips, full of loss and anguish,
Profiting no one.

The Merchant of Venice discusses huge CEO compensation packages:

Their quantity of earnings is not strained.
A droppeth in their comp’ny’s stock, though brutal,
Toucheth not those above; comp here’s twice blessed;
It bloateth in good times and when sales tank;
It’s embedded for the embedded; it rewards
Enthroned execs better than a crown...

Hamlet-like ruminations of an overly conflicted investor: