And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into a sleek and useless peer o’ the realm,
With coronet on brow and ermine robes.
His earlier wit, though dulled, a world to bright
For his new sphere, and his once manly voice
Turning again towards childish accents, drones
And falters in his words. Last scene of all
That ends the strange eventful history
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans power, sans fame, sans friends, sans everything.