First, before Shakespeare, I must dampen your enthusiasm for real teeth, a most dangerous practice, to have a fixation with teeth, especially your own, to fix on others YOUR obsession, (by fixation I mean to stare) is even worse. The excitement could lead to overeating, or, even worse, a permanent fixation on teeth.
And further, it could turn into an passion, then where would you be? Tramping around all day long looking at people’s teeth. A sure way to get a black eye.
My teeth over the years have been drilled, plugged, screwed, polished and poked. Indeed, one of my wisdom teeth is missing, yanked out, a pusy postulated abscess underneath, not a pretty sight, and lost to me forever. And I have a hole there to prove it.
Ah! But I have a surprise! I have one gold tooth. Those of you that feel prone to fixation, or think I am bragging about my wealth, don’t, please don’t go into fixation, or be jealous of the gold tooth. It was done before Gordon Brown sold off the country’s gold reserves, when the price was very low, and of course, I can never sell it, not when I’m alive anyway. That reminds me, I need to make a will and mention that.
It is real gold, mind you, not some gauze and plug, a real gold cap. And it shines; it could blind you if you look at it the wrong way, but alas, I still have my teeth, and they are well brushed, except where that darn wisdom molar used to reside. A big hole inhabits the spot now, it’s good for putting your tongue into though, my tongue not yours silly!
I think you are excited enough now so…And now to Shakespeare:Before you get too excited.I still have a passion for life despite the loss of the tooth. So there! Lump it with sugar on: it's definitely Shakespeare now, so let’s get serious.
The following passage is from, “AS YOU LIKE IT” sounds quite rude doesn’t it? If it does, get your mind back into the right gear and stop thinking of all those positions.What is to follow is quite a serious bit of writing by the bard.
By the way, its called the SEVEN AGES OF MAN. And I reside between the 4th and 5th stages of life.What is that you say? Nothing ! Carry on reading.
Here goes: Jaques is in The Forest of Arden Act II Scene VII, in As You Like it.
I have numbered the seven ages, jokes aside, please, read it a few times. I think this passage is quite profound, and somewhere along it, you will find yourself. And it’s quite funny, even if it is, as I just said, somewhat profound.
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 (1) infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
(2) And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail,
Unwillingly to school.
(3) And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad,
Made to his mistress' eyebrow.
(4) 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.
(5) And then the justice,
And further, it could turn into an passion, then where would you be? Tramping around all day long looking at people’s teeth. A sure way to get a black eye.
My teeth over the years have been drilled, plugged, screwed, polished and poked. Indeed, one of my wisdom teeth is missing, yanked out, a pusy postulated abscess underneath, not a pretty sight, and lost to me forever. And I have a hole there to prove it.
Ah! But I have a surprise! I have one gold tooth. Those of you that feel prone to fixation, or think I am bragging about my wealth, don’t, please don’t go into fixation, or be jealous of the gold tooth. It was done before Gordon Brown sold off the country’s gold reserves, when the price was very low, and of course, I can never sell it, not when I’m alive anyway. That reminds me, I need to make a will and mention that.
It is real gold, mind you, not some gauze and plug, a real gold cap. And it shines; it could blind you if you look at it the wrong way, but alas, I still have my teeth, and they are well brushed, except where that darn wisdom molar used to reside. A big hole inhabits the spot now, it’s good for putting your tongue into though, my tongue not yours silly!
I think you are excited enough now so…And now to Shakespeare:Before you get too excited.I still have a passion for life despite the loss of the tooth. So there! Lump it with sugar on: it's definitely Shakespeare now, so let’s get serious.
The following passage is from, “AS YOU LIKE IT” sounds quite rude doesn’t it? If it does, get your mind back into the right gear and stop thinking of all those positions.What is to follow is quite a serious bit of writing by the bard.
By the way, its called the SEVEN AGES OF MAN. And I reside between the 4th and 5th stages of life.What is that you say? Nothing ! Carry on reading.
Here goes: Jaques is in The Forest of Arden Act II Scene VII, in As You Like it.
I have numbered the seven ages, jokes aside, please, read it a few times. I think this passage is quite profound, and somewhere along it, you will find yourself. And it’s quite funny, even if it is, as I just said, somewhat profound.
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 (1) infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.
(2) And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel,
And shining morning face, creeping like snail,
Unwillingly to school.
(3) And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad,
Made to his mistress' eyebrow.
(4) 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.
(5) 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.
(6) 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.
(7)Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part.
(6) 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.
(7)Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
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