Phoebe Warren has updated Shakespeare's famous 'Seven Ages of Man' speech from 'As You Like It' (see original below) to reflect a twenty-first century perspective:
Jaques: 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 a snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like a furnace, with a woeful 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 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.
(from As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7, lines 138-165)
The
first is comprised of potential:
We
arise with taught skin stretched plumply over soft bones,
Flawless
by nature and design,
Unscarred
by the brutal world-
until
the moment we let out that fatal scream.
We
add to the noise pollution of life
Reinforced
by our next path in search of discovery:
we
crawl, we climb, we slide
for
ambition. Through failure we learn the reality of the world
Only
to be met by the third passage,
becoming
magicians composing a virtual social life
alluding
one another with filters,
misting
over a warped version of reality
In
the haze of this confusion we leave our teenage self,
And
embark on the fourth era, in which
we
progress to the promised years of independence
correlating
with amounting debts,
lack
of funding and cooking skills.
Yet,
we graduate, we grow, we are promoted,
until
we slow to a steady income:
a
steady family, settle down and
the
deception slows down too. Yet is this where
the
potential ends? No longer are we anticipating,
rather
passively awaiting stage six, where upon
our
reliant children lock us up to freely roam
Over
the retirement home estate, crumbling
along
side the walls guarding the grounds
until
we slip into stage seven. Now the
body
no longer resembles a machine
built
to carry such a life as your own.
So,
we loosely tumble, flaking into the
Earth
of which we came so new.
(see Shakespeare's original, below)
Jaques: 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 a snail
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 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.
(from As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7, lines 138-165)
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