All the world 's a stage, 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. 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' eyebrow. 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 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 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.
-- William Shakespeare (1564-1616), As You Like It
-- Act ii, Sc. 7
