As you like it and then some.

[Rodney Mills]

I love this excerpt from William Shakespere's "As you like it", but am a bit disappointed*as "Bill" forgot something.....


"All the worlds a stage And all the men and women players. They have their*exits and entrances And one man in his*time plays many parts. His act being seven ages.

At first the infant, Mewing and puking in his nurse's arms.* Then the whining school boy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like a snail Unwillingly to school.*

And then the lover. Singing like furnace*with woeful ballad, to his mistress'*eyebrows.
**
Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like a 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 in'd. 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 slipper'd pantaloon,With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, His youthful hose, well sav'd,a world to wide*For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning towards the 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."


.....It's a bit scary to think most of the members of "Friends", me included, are in some part of the sixth stage.* I've wondered should dear old Bill have added "Erectile dysfunction" between "shrunk shank. and his big manly voice."... or is it included in "sans everything"?* Come to think of it perhaps it is covered with "shrunk shank"
Cheers, Rodney

[Des Taff Jenkins]

He forgot to say going up the shops with your slippers on, which I did the other day, I only did it once, honest.
Des

[happy daze john in oz]

No worries Des, I go to the corner shop in bare feet at times and it is almost 200 meters away.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day to the last syliable of recorded time
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty deaths
Out, out brief candle life is but a walking shadow , a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more.

So will we all be treated in the end.