All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And all the men and women merely 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.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
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,
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 shifts
Into the lean and slippered 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.
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
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,
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 shifts
Into the lean and slippered 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.
This poem was such a big comfort to me in high school as I persisted to make myself the outcast, not drinking, smoking, etc. like everybody else. I always hoped that they would eventually pass in to their next "stage" and yet, they didn't. So I tried their's...and failed miserable and passed back into my own stage.
ReplyDeleteThe stages that Shakespeare chooses is interesting:
1. Infant
2. Schoolboy
3. Lover
4. Soldier
5. Justice
6. Spectacled old man (I never caught the humorous sexual references before here)
7. Barely alive- a child again
"They have their exits and they have their entrances"- whenever I meet a new person who seems to be 'playing' a part in my life, I always wonder how long they will be there- their influence- lasting or fleeting? I do this too early. Sometimes you don't really get the play until the very end when, without having anything left, you gain everything. You understand.
I love the opening. It fits people; they play their parts.
ReplyDeleteIt is also very negative. None of the ages sound very good. I wonder if Shakespeare is speaking as an observer of people or as an actor. I'm not familiar with the play this poem is from, for I'm sure it would set the context of the speech.