Monologue of Jacques

"The whole world is a theater, and the people in it are actors"

(Act II, scene VII)

The whole world is theater.
In it, women, men - all actors.
They have their own exits, departures,
And each one plays a role.
Seven actions in the play toy. Baby first
Roaring bitterly in the arms of the mother ...
Then a whiny schoolboy with a book bag,
With a ruddy face, reluctantly, a snail
Crawling to school. And then a lover
Sighing like an oven, with a sad ballad
In honor of the cute eyebrow. And then the soldier
Whose speech is always full of curses,
Bearded like a leopard
Jealous of honor, a bully in a quarrel,
Ready to seek mortal glory
At least in a cannonball. Then the judge
With a rounded belly, where the capon is hidden,
With a stern look, a trimmed beard,
A storehouse of template rules and maxims, -
That's how he plays the part. The sixth age
It will be a skinny pantalone,
In glasses, in shoes, at the belt - a purse,
In pants that from youth the shore, wide
For withered feet; courageous voice
It is replaced again by a childish treble:
It squeaks like a flute... And the last act,
The end of this whole strange, complicated play -
Second childhood, half-forgetfulness:
Without eyes, without feelings, without taste, without everything.

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 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 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 lin'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 shift
Into the lean and slipper "d pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well sav "d, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again towards 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.

The whole world is acting

The authorship of this phrase is traditionally attributed to William Shakespeare, but the primary source of Shakespeare's words is the writings of the Roman writer Gaius Petronius. His line "Mundus universus exercet histrioniam" (mundus universus exercet histrionyam) literally translated from Latin means - "The whole world is engaged in acting."

The phrase "Totus mundus agit histrionem" (the whole world plays a comedy) adorned the building of the Globe Theater, for which Shakespeare wrote his plays.

The whole world is theater.
There are women, men - all actors.
They have their own exits, departures,
And each one plays a role.
Seven actions in the play toy. Baby first
Roaring loudly in the arms of the mother ...
Then a whiny schoolboy with a bag of books,
With a ruddy face, reluctantly, a snail
Crawling to school. And then a lover
Sighing like an oven, with a sad ballad
In honor of the cute eyebrow. And then the soldier
Whose speech is always full of curses,
Bearded like a leopard
Jealous of honor, a bully in a quarrel,
Ready to seek mortal glory
At least in a cannonball. Then the judge
With a rounded belly, where the capon is hidden,
With a stern look, a trimmed beard,
Template rules and maxims are a storehouse,—
That's how he plays the part. The sixth age
It will be a skinny pantalone,
In glasses, in shoes, at the belt - a purse,
In pants that from youth the shore, wide
For withered feet; courageous voice
It is replaced again by a childish treble:
It squeaks like a flute... And the last act,
The end of this whole strange, complicated play -
Second childhood, half-forgetfulness:
Without eyes, without feelings, without taste, without everything.

W. Shakespeare
Monologue of Jacques from the comedy "As You Like It"

Theater

Shakespeare said: "The whole world is a theater, and the people in it are actors!
Who is a rogue, who is a jester, and who is a simpleton, a sage or a hero.
Therefore, therefore, leave your disputes -
Look for your role in life, sculpt your image.

Our world is a hall! Our life is a stage
Where laughter and tears, grief and love are mixed
But, at least a hundred lives live at the same time,
Be and always be yourself.

Who is glorious, who is inglorious - sometimes we do not know,
Honor and money are handed out more and more at random.
The hypocritical demon confuses us with a devilish game,
He is in no hurry to change the picture and announce an intermission.

But sometimes, yes, sometimes - after all, everything happens in life! -
Someone will take over the stolen role.
The Lord, having found such, stigmatizes ... Fate undresses them,
And the people are convinced that the king was naked.

And every day and every day we wear masks
And looking in the mirror, sometimes we don't recognize ourselves...
Only at home, alone, we can safely
Ask: "What in this life are we playing or living?"

Yuri Evseev

The whole world is a theater, and the people in it are actors:
That's what William Shakespeare said
There are honest, however, there are thieves,
Everyone has their own idol.
Many roles, parts, intermissions,
Lots of different scenes
Many discoveries, many facts,
Lots of love, murder, betrayal.
All this is both in the theater and in life,
One soul is more capricious than another,
But they all play and live
They drink water from one cup.
Only one thought worries
Nobody writes us a script
Maybe this will help us
And we will write it ourselves.
Let's write how we want
As soon as the heart tells us
And of course we will win
Our heart will show us the right path.
We all die someday
Everything always comes to an end
Well, as long as we live
While we roam the wonder of the world.
Let's love, create, play.
We will leave a memory of ourselves,
People will remember us
They will write poems about us!

“The whole world is a theater, and the people in it are actors” - this is one of the most quoted phrases of Shakespeare - the beginning of Jacques' monologue from the second act of the comedy “As You Like It”.

All the world's a stage
And all the men and women only 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 snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover
Sighing like a furnace, with a woful ballad
Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bobble reputation.
Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice
In fair round belly with good capon lin'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 shift
Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon
With spectacles on nose well and pouch on side,
His youthful hose well sav'd a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again towards childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all
That ends his strange eventful history,
In second childishness and mere oblivion
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_the_world%27s_a_stage

Translated by T. Shchepkina-Kupernik, this monologue reads as follows:

The whole world is theater.
In it, women, men - all actors.
They have their own exits, departures,
And each one plays a role.

Seven actions in the play toy. Baby first
Roaring bitterly in the arms of the mother ...
Then a whiny schoolboy with a book bag,
With a ruddy face, reluctantly, a snail
Crawling to school. And then a lover
Sighing like an oven, with a sad ballad
In honor of the cute eyebrow. And then the soldier
Whose speech is always full of curses,
Bearded like a leopard
Jealous of honor, a bully in a quarrel,
Ready to seek mortal glory
At least in a cannonball. Then the judge
With a rounded belly, where the capon is hidden,
With a stern look, a trimmed beard,
A storehouse of template rules and maxims, -
T How does he play the role? The sixth age
It will be a skinny pantalone,
In glasses, in shoes, at the belt - a purse,
In pants that from youth the shore, wide
For withered feet; courageous voice
It is replaced again by a childish treble:
It squeaks like a flute... And the last act,
The end of this whole strange, complicated play -
Second childhood, half-forgetfulness:
Without eyes, without feelings, without taste, without everything.

This is about the “Human Comedy” in its Renaissance sense, when a person was perceived as the plaything of Fortune, who is the main director in this theater. The seven ages of man mentioned here correspond to the seven planets (thus: the soldier is Mars, the lover is Venus, the judge is Jupiter, the old man is Saturn).

But Shakespeare is often just a resonator of his era, its echo that has reached us. It amplifies, modulates other people's voices. For example, Queen Elizabeth speaking before Parliament and saying the following: “ We, the rulers, step out onto the stage of this world to play our part before the eyes of all mankind...”

Walter Raleigh plays up the idea of ​​the theater world in verse:

What is our life? - A comedy about passion.
Bravurna overture in the first movement.
Mother's womb - dressing room
Comedians are too quick.
Stages - the world, and the viewer in this vale -
Lord, - defames for ignorance of the role.
Like a curtain after a performance - darkness
The grave is waiting, dispassionately cold.
And here we are, playing tricks, going to the end.
But at the last moment - the mask off the face.

(“What’s our life...” Translated by A. Nesterov)

But Raleigh's poem also has its own source: a completely worn out rhetorical comparison, used even in antiquity, for example, in Lucian in the Menippus dialogue: “ ... human life is like some kind of long procession, in which Fate leads and indicates the places, determining each of his clothes. Snatching out who happens to be, puts on him royal clothes, a tiara, gives him spearmen, crowns his head with a diadem; He rewards another with the dress of a slave, he gives beauty to a third, and he makes another ugly and ridiculous: after all, the spectacle should be varied! Often during the procession, she changes the outfits of some of the participants, not allowing the day to end in its original form. At the same time, she forces Croesus to take the clothes of a slave or captive; Meandrius, who had previously walked along with the servants, she hands over the kingdom of Polycrates, allowing some time to use the royal clothes. But as soon as the procession is over, everyone takes off and returns their clothes along with the body, after which their appearance becomes the same as it was before the start, no different from the appearance of a neighbor. And so, out of ignorance, others are upset when Fate commands them to return their clothes, and they become angry, as if they were being deprived of some property, not realizing that they are only returning what was given to them for temporary use.”

And there is also a poem by Sir Henry Wotton (1568-1639), a friend of John Donne:

Man's life a tragedy: his mother's womb
(From which he enters) is the trining room;
This spacious earth the theatre; and the stage
This country which he lives in; passion, rage,
Folly and vice are actors: the first cry
The prologue to th' ensuing tragedy.
The former act consistent of dumb shows;
The second, he to more perfection grows;
I'th third he is a man, and doth begin
To nature vice and act the deeds of sin:
I'th fourth declines; I'th fifth diseases clog
And trouble him; then death's his epilogue.

[Human life is a tragedy: the mother's womb / (From which he enters the stage>) - a dressing room; / This earthly expanse is a theater; and the stage / - The country where he lives; passion, anger, / Stupidity and vice - actors: the first cry / - Prologue to the coming tragedy. / The first act in its content is a pantomime; / Second act> - the hero is improving; / In the third - he is a man and begins / to pay tribute> to the vice inherent in his nature, and commit sins: / In the fourth - he goes to sunset; In the fifth disease surrounds / And plagues him; and then - death, his epilogue.]

Julius Kim "Theatrical Prologue"

And the people in it are actors. © Shakespeare
But how exactly? Agree. This is the truth you can't argue with...

If you think about it, each of us plays a role, or even two, or three, and much more.
Don't just think that the roles are already written... I don't really think so... I think there are sketches... But who made them? Here is a good question...

And the answers to it can be completely different ... different depending on who will answer this question.
One will generally say that these are not sketches at all, but a clearly written role, and it was written by God or some other higher power.
The second will think and disagree with the first, he will say that life cannot be written completely, and we cannot clearly follow this line. He will assume that this is, so to speak, the main storyline, and it is inscribed by Fate. And that we can move away from this line, but we will return again and again to it.

But I think that these are just sketches, sketches that are laid in us at birth, no matter who ... they just are there. But what is an outline? In fact, this is a draft, where a lot of things have been crossed out, corrected, supplemented ... So it is in life, in our role, no, all the same, in roles.
There is a sketch made by you ... but nothing prevents you from crossing out and sketching a new sketch, a new draft, a new role ... Someone crosses out many times, and people call it life throwing, searching for oneself in life. But in fact, it is YOU who correct your roles, crossing out boring development scenarios, or inserting new twists ...

Life is your personal time on the stage of the world. Theater of improvisations. After all, we don’t speak according to a pre-prepared text (well, in rare cases, for example, when you (let’s say) returned home as a child, but later than the appointed time by your parent, you began to come up with excuses why you were late, didn’t you?). Our life is one continuous improvisation.

However, some manage to play so masterfully that they play more than one role ... although the role is always the same, no, they change masks ... How many such masks can they have? Although I am sure that we all have at least two or three masks in which we walk and show ourselves.
Well, for example, a mask for relatives and friends ... what are we like with them? Yes, everyone is different, but if you close your eyes and imagine yourself with relatives... What are you like with them?
What do you think of the boss mask? (You can understand anyone as a boss: directly your supervisor at work, maybe a teacher, if a schoolboy, or a teacher, if a student, etc.) Now if you try to close your eyes again and imagine yourself with the boss, what will you see? Will the images be the same in the first and second cases?

Well, the third mask is for friends ... In my opinion, this is exactly the mask that is closest to your true face ... There are many more such masks, mood masks, a mask for a loved one, a mask for a stranger etc. and so on.
So we play with these masks, simultaneously redrawing the scenario of our life, or getting used to the written role, not wanting to deviate from the chosen image ...

The whole world is a theater, and the people in it are actors,
And there is only one spectator in it, and this is God.
And Satan is hired as a director there,
And demons - in props and prompters,
So that the viewer can enjoy the action.

Since life is a theater, then in every production
Intrigue, backstage fuss.
Other hands are pulling from the crowd -
Their attempts are mediocre and awkward -
They shout: "Take me! Take me!"

"Take the role of a hero lover!"
"Take the role of a king or a sage!"
But many are destined for something else:
Days moo from wake up to lights out,
Stay in the crowd until the end.

Other roles are played so poorly
So bored mired in trifles,
What I want to cry out: "Fear God!
You crumple all the lines of the monologue." -
In them, the natural gift withered in the bud.

And I? I didn't get a role in a drama
They didn't give me a family series -
In a barren dream of a beautiful lady
Playful and gentle verses
She sang - to know the melodrama I played.

And, apparently, he is successful in this role:
I play it again and again -
Alone b The devil left me or something -
More and more in it is not joy, but pain,
And soon they will give a curtain.

But I'm not afraid of the end of the earthly path,
Although, perhaps, something sinned -
I think, is it Christ, Jehovah,
I will not be met too harshly,
Because I played with all my heart.

The whole world is a theater, actors are people too
The whole world is just our reflection!
If the whole world is a theater, then where do the audience sit?
The whole world is a theater...
Around the madhouse, the roof goes in it,
And with it the attic:
UN, politics, weather -
One big big mess!
No! - a farce, and in it theaters
Absurdity, drama and satire.
Tragedy, military action
They have actors and idols.
Politicians write a script
And presidents are directors.
A huge number of extras
And whisperers, that is prompters.
How many clowns without a circus.
Shadow theater - where are the people?
And acts: gentle - with love,
Those are evil, even without preludes ....
Fate distributes the roles.
And here are the secrets and surprises -
Who is in the anatomical theater,
And who is the leader in the entreprise.
Religious performances -
"All for the salvation of the soul" -
Show - any means
Good for this purpose.
Mullahs, priests, rabbis,
Under the same light of essence
Let someone shine
Somebody gets burned to death.
Slice of time leading up
Through many layers of culture.
And the stage is creativity, art,
But very often and hack-work!
Everything is as it should be for theaters:
And wardrobe and decorations.
Light, whistle, applause,
Orchestra, music, applause ...

Evaluated by Chief Critic
Looking down on everyone.
Among the failures and fiasco,
The full house will also celebrate success.
When he is very unhappy
"Madhouse" earthquakes are shaking,
Tsunamis, storms, floods
And atypical occurrences.
Yes, everything must be complete.
Scripts and directing
Theaters can't hurt
elemental culture.
And that means you have to try.
Play, not just perform.
And only after learning all the roles,
Raise the curtain in the theater.
The whole world is theater. But are we all actors?

THE WHOLE WORLD IS A THEATER, AND THE PEOPLE IN IT ARE HOSTAGES
"The whole world is a theater, and the people in it are the victims"
And here is the same phrase in the manner of a business: The whole world is a theater, and the people in it ... customers
The whole world is theater, the whole world is absurd!
The whole world is a theater ... which means I'm an actor?

A. Lektorsky

The whole world is theater. All the people in it are actors.
Love and Death wrote a play for them
And Chance, he went to the directors.
"Well," the three decided, "let's create

Such a performance that it was impossible
Create something like this!"
Let it be so! The solution is inescapable!
The performance began to be called life ...

Hey, there's no way without a game... At least that's how it is for me!
Thanks to this game, I have many friends... of both sexes, good relations not only with relatives, but also with their friends... I'm the standard for them, so to speak... supposedly!
The only negative is: You need to lie! And then get out for lying! Again, again and again ... While you are balancing on this fragile twig, you are a player! But at one moment you can fall ... how deep and where, you don’t know. ..
. ...... that our life is a game
and who is to blame
I'm addicted to this game.....

We are forced to play, but at least once we must be ourselves. I have a bunch of masks, but next to my beloved, I am who I am.

All my life I have to play, both at work and in front of my wife. Tired already.
From the old deposits of the inflamed brain:
We carry masks everywhere with us,
Like keys to smelly apartments
We can even play angels
Visiting the toilet in front of people.

The whole world is a theater, the theater is the whole world

You are right - life depends not only on the unknown director, but also on the actor. We are free to make our own rules and follow them.

. "My own role compels me sometimes to rush in search of the author of this idiotic play"

The whole world is a theater, and the people in it are actors. Moreover, quite successful actors. Everyone in this life has their own role in a huge performance. Someone copes with it, and someone breaks down, without having time to know the whole essence of the game. However, who is the director who so skillfully allocates roles to everyone? I would like to get to know him to find out who I will play. Who will I play ... and will I play at all? Maybe I'm just a decoration, or maybe a prop? And suddenly I got a supporting role. Or am I still? I would ask the director of our life how long our performance will last. Approximately I figured out what he would answer me, As long as we live, the game is on. Director, tell me, is it worth it to play the roles that you gave us?