All the world's a stage, | |
And all the men and women merely players; | |
They have their exits and their entrances, | 140 |
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 arms. | |
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel | |
And shining morning face, creeping like snail | 145 |
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, | |
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad | |
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, | |
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, | |
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, | 150 |
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; | 155 |