All the world's stage
And all the maen and women merely players
They have their exits and entrances
And one man in his time plays many parts
His acts being seven ages.
At first, the infant
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arm
And then the whining school- boy
with his satchel and shining morning face
creeping like snail, unwillingly to school
And then the lover
Sighing like a furnace, with a woeful ballad made to his mistressw' eyebrow
The a solider
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in a quarrel
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth
And then the justice
in fair round belly with good capon lined
with eyes severe and beard of formal cut
Full of wise saws and modern instances
And so he plays his part
The sixth age sgifts into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon
with spectacles on nose and pouch on side
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide for his shrunk shank and his big manly voice
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes and whistles in his sound
Last scene of all that ends this strange eventful history is second childishness and mere oblivion
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste,
sans everything
