Jaques — “All the World’s a Stage”
In the exiled Duke's forest camp, the melancholy, sharp-tongued Jaques answers the idea that the world is full of misery with a set-piece of his own: life is a play in seven acts, and he sketches each one — infant, schoolboy, lover, soldier, judge, old fool, and finally a second helpless childhood. He wants to win the moment with his wit and his bleak, funny clarity.
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;
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like 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.
How to Play It
Play it as a witty man building a case in front of an audience he wants to impress — each 'age' is a quick character sketch he clearly enjoys performing. Find the small comic observations (the snail-slow schoolboy, the lover writing to an eyebrow, the fat, pompous justice) and let them be genuinely funny before the tone darkens.
The trap is a solemn, world-weary drone from the first line. It's a performance and a provocation; keep it light and specific, and let the final line ('sans everything') land the cold truth he's been circling.
It's iconic and borderline overdone — but it survives because it's so tonally distinct. If you play the seven characters instead of the 'famous speech,' it becomes a signature piece.
Suits men 30s–50s who can shift character quickly and hold an audience. A strong 'signature' choice that shows range within a single speech.
Want Will to Coach You Through It?
A monologue is a two-person scene where the other person never speaks. Working it 1-on-1 with a working actor is the fastest way to make it land.