Duke Sen.
Thou seest, we are not all alone unhappy:
This wide and universal Theatre

Presents more woful pageants, than the scene
Wherein we play in.

Jaq.
All the world's a Stage,
And all the men and women meerly Players;
They have their Exits and their 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 arms.
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 furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eye-brow. Then a soldier:
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel;
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then, the justice
In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances,^{8 note}

And whistles in his sound. Last Scene of all,
That ends this strange evenful History,
Is second childishness, and meer oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.

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