The infant mewling and puking in the nurse's arms
Stupid employees
Then the schoolboy, with his stachel and shining morning face, creeping like a snail unwillingly to school.
I'm smart and mature.
Pantaloon
Then the lover , sighing like a furnace, with a woeful ballad made to his mistres' eyebrows.
Oblivion
I'm too old.
Then the soldier,full of strange oaths, and bearded like a pard, jelous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, seeking the bubble reputation.
Soldier
Justice
And then the justice,in fair round belly, with good capon lined, with severe eyes and beard of formal cut, full of wise saws and modern instances, and so he plays his part.
The 6th age shifts into the lean and slippered pantaloon, with spectacles on nose and pouch on side, his youthful hose,well saved, for a world too wide, for his shrunk shrank- and his big manly voice turning again towards childish treble,pipes and whistles in his sound, the last scene of all, that ends this strange eventful story, in second childiness, and mere oblivion sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything
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