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The Infant. Mewing and puking in the nurse's arms.
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The whining schoolboy, with his satchel and shining face, creeping like snail willingly to school.
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The lover, Signing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow.
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Then a Soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking the bubble reputation.
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The Justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes servere and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his parts.
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The sixth age shifts into the lean and slippered pentaloon, 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 sounds.
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Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, Sans eyes, Sans taste, Sans everything.
