Friday, 24 October 2014

LOVE AND MONEY by Dennis Kelly


I put wall-paper paste in the coffee machine at work.
You know the powder, you buy the powder in, while no one was looking I put it into the machine and
stirred it all in and left it and it clogged up the machine and they all stood around it staring at it, hurt, like
it was a dead puppy.
When you print orders at work, they come out face up with the address on, on, on the front and you
never see the backs until they, you know, come back from the clients completed, the order form is on the
back, you see, so you never see the, until, so I stayed late one night and I photocopied the word 'cock'
on the back of all the order forms, with a big picture of a cock and balls that I drew in magic marker, and
then I put them back in the printer, and the next day they sent out thousands and they got hundreds of
complaints and lost their two biggest clients.

I keep falling asleep in meetings and no-one's noticed yet. They think I'm concentrating.

Last week I caught a mouse in my flat, I have mice, which is something I don't really, I don't really like
that, I have mice and I caught this one on glue paper, you know, the glue traps, I've tried everything else
and that's the only thing that works and the worst thing is that when you catch them they're still alive so
you have to, you know, despatch them, so I put a cloth over it and I hit it on the head with a cup, a mug,
but it took quite a few, you know, hits and it was screaming and I felt sick and I was crying and
everything and then I peeled it off the paper, you have to be very careful because the body's quite
delicate, and then I took a scalpel that I have for handicrafts and I slit its little belly open and I tugged out
all its insides and I stuck them and the body onto this Christmas card, so that it was splayed open with
the guts out into this Christmas tree design, and I sent it to my boss with writing cut out from a
newspaper saying 'Thanks for all the hard work and good luck in the new job cunt-face'. They called the
I wanted to be a newsreader when I was a little girl.
Pause. She picks up the card. He stares at her

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

CRUEL AND TENDER by Martin Crimp

Part 1, Scene 3

If you call me distressed
one more time
or use my name
one more time tonight I won't scream
what I will in fact do
is stuff your mouth with barbed wire.
Because forgive me
but I'm starting to find the way you speak
an atrocity which makes cutting a man's heart out
seem almost humane.
If you have something to say
about that child and my husband
say it. But don't and I repeat
don't think you can what?
'spare my feelings?'
because I am not a child
and do not expect to be treated like a child
in my own house - is that clear?
You think it's a secret
that my husband has other women?
You think he doesn't tell me about them?
Oh yes - oh yes - he tells me about them –
their names
the colour of their hair
because he knows I'd rather be told
even if being told is
and it is
I can promise you that it is
like having my face sprayed with acid.
When I slept with you
I told him the same evening
and after he'd punched his fist through the bathroom
he made me put on my red dress
and took me dancing.

Whereas - let me guess - you and
Kitty? --was that Kitty on the phone?--yes?--Kitty?--
Kitty and yourself--poor little Kitty
has never been told, has she,
even though her ignorance
is precisely what you despise about her--
am I right?
Slight pause.
You see
I happen to believe that love and truth
are the same thing.

Thursday, 16 October 2014

Our Town by Thornton Wilder.

Character name: Emily Webb
Gender: Female
Age Range: 16 — 25
Show: Our Town
Duration: 0 — 1 minutes
Monologue Type: dramatic,contemporary
Notes: Emily is talking to George, a boy whom she loves very much. However, in this monologue, she is quite upset with him.

I don't like the whole change that's come over you in the last year. I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings, but I've got to- tell the truth and shame the devil. Up to a year ago I used to like you a lot. And I used to watch you as you did everything? because we'd been friends so long? and then you began spending all your time at baseball? and you never stopped to speak to anybody any more. Not even to your own family you didn't? and, George, it's a fact, you've got awful concieted and stuck up, and all the girls say so. They may not say so to your face, but that's what they say about you behind your back, and it hurts me to hear them say it, but I've got to agree with them a little. I'm sorry if it hurts your feelings? but I cant be sorry I said it.

Character name: Emily Webb
Gender: Female
Age Range: 16 — 25
Show: Our Town
Duration: 0 — 1 minutes
Monologue Type: dramatic,contemporary
Notes: Emily has died and has just joined the deceaced at the graveyard. She talks to her dead Mother-in-Law (Mother Gibbs) in this monologue about what Mother Gibbs has missed since she's died.

Mother Gibbs, George and I have made that farm into just the best place you ever saw. We thought of you all the time. We wanted to show you the new barn and a great long cement drinking fountain for the stock. We bought that out of the money you left us. Don't you remember, Mother Gibbs -  the legacy you left us? Why, it was over three hundred and fifty dollars. Well, there's a patent device on the drinking fountain so that it never overflows, mother Gibbs, and it never sinks below a certain mark they have there. It's fine. (Her voice trails off and her eyes return to the funeral group) It won't be the same to George without me, but it's a lovely farm. (pause, she looks directly at Mrs. Gibbs) Live people don't understand, do they? They're sort of shut up in little boxes, aren't they? I feel as though I know them. Mother Gibbs, when does this feeling go away? - Of being? one of them? How long does it?? I never realized before how troubled and how? how in the dark live persons are. From morning till night, that's all they are - troubled.

Character name: Emily Webb
Gender: Female
Age Range: 16 — 25
Show: Our Town
Duration: 0 — 1 minutes
Monologue Type: dramatic,contemporary
Notes: Emily has just died in childbirth and has been given the chance to go back home to a time she wishes to see. Looking at her mother and father whom she will never see again, she realizes that it was a mistake have gone back.

(softly, more in wonder than in grief)
I can't bear it. They're so young and beautiful. Why did they ever have to get old? Mama, I'm here. I'm grown up. I love you all, everything. - I cant look at everything hard enough. (pause, talking to her mother who does not hear her. She speaks with mounting urgency) Oh, Mama, just look at me one minute as though you really saw me. Mama, fourteen years have gone by. I'm dead. You're a grandmother, Mama. I married George Gibbs, Mama. Wally's dead, too. Mama, his appendix burst on a camping trip to North Conway. We felt just terrible about it - don't you remember? But, just for a moment now we're all together. Mama, just for a moment we're happy. Let's look at one another. (pause, looking desperate because she has received no answer. She speaks in a loud voice, forcing herself to not look at her mother) I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another. (she breaks down sobbing, she looks around) I didn't realize. All that was going on in life and we never noticed. Take me back - up the hill -  to my grave. But first: Wait! One more look. Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners? Mama and Papa. Good-bye to clocks ticking? and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths? and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. (she asks abruptly through her tears) Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? - every, every minute? (she sighs) I'm ready to go back. I should have listened to you. That's all human beings are! Just blind people.

Thursday, 9 October 2014

Not Such Stuff by Chris Wind

Background Info: Juliet (as in Romeo and Juliet) talks into the night, wondering where Romeo is, and why it matters so much.

Juliet: Romeo, Romeo,
Where the hell art thou?
Have you stopped along the way
To play at your stupid battle games?
Or have you changed your mind,
And decided not to come
Thinking me too 'easy' and thus insincere:
What perversion of thought is this?
Because I say what it is I want,
Direct and forthright,
You judge my desire false?
While the one who dallies,
Says no to mean yes,
You deem true and take her
Or perhaps you think to be 'easy' is to be unchaste:
If so, you misjudge
Because I want you       (I want you)
Does in no way mean
I am a woman who wants every man.
Do you think of yourself so poorly?
Can you not accept that it is you who–
That one look of yours makes me wet
One touch sends a fire through every nerve
That it is you, standing there
 In your tights so tight
And your shirt
Carelessly open,
Your chest–
Oh Romeo, Romeo,
Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
'Tis true you asked the same last night
When you came
And I bid you go
–For you had come so ill-prepared!
I bid you go to the Friar–
Not for a marriage,
'Tis but a farce:
We say there will be no sex
Until there is marriage
Meaning until there is love;
But if we marry at first sight,
Then 'tis surely not a token of love
But a license for sex.
(Indeed, my mother's talk to me
Of marriage
Was as awkward as a first broaching
Of the subject of sex!)
And what need have we of a license–
Better use can we make of a sheath!
(The Friar, do you forget, is also a pharmacist!)
Yes, I bid you go
But only to return–
Return, Romeo, come–
Part thy close curtain, love-perfuming night,
As I will soon mine own unclasp,
let fall,
To offer sweetest heavens
To my love, my Romeo, come–
Steal upon catpaws silent in the night
Follow my purr, come,
Leap into my arms!
Let us kiss once for every star in the sky
A thousand times our lips shall meet!
Let me feel your body
Move sleek along mine
Let me touch you, Romeo, here      and here
('Tis true, as spoken, strangers' love is boldest!)
Flutter your fingers upon my breast,
Play with me love, at tug and nip
'Till my body stiffens in arched pleasure!
Come, let me surround you
Let me suck at the moon's liquid
'Till you clench and howl!
Then lick me love,
Seek my treasure with your teasing tongue
Nibble the pearl in folds of oyster,
My hands tearing at your head,
'Till I am gasping in wild heat,
Come, now, thrust your hard desire
reach deep in to me love–
Let me feel your panting breath–
Come night, loving black-silked night,
Come take me, wake me,
Make me cry out
For more!
Come, Romeo, come
Nurse laughs to see me so–
(Though mother would faint,
Still confusing innocence with ignorance)
Young love, she mutters, fanning my face;
But I protest, 'tis not love,
Not of ones so young,
Nor of ones just met–
Let us be clear:
Yours was an artful come-on
(‘Let lips do what hands do’)
For a classic pick-up–
'Tis young lust, I tell her true:
I want sex
With a desire pure as the lace on my bodice;
She clucks to hear me talk so,
And I would persist–
But what's in a name?
That which we call making love
By any other name
Feels as good.

DETROIT by Lisa D’Amour

Scene IV


Kenny you are not going to believe this. I am fucking losing it - do you see me? I am losing it!
It was the pink jogging suit lady. At our door! Only she wasn't wearing a pink jogging suit, she
was wearing shorts and a blue T-shirt. And she came over to ask us politely - sort of - politely if
we could keep our dog from shitting on her lawn. WE DON'T HAVE A DOG. Exactly. And so I
said to her, politely, I said, ''We don't have a dog" and she said, "Yes you do have a dog and it
is quite fond of taking craps on my lawn." "Quite fond." Like slicing a razor blade across my
face - "quite fond." And I said, "Lady, do you want to come in my house? We've got NOTHING
in our house, especially a DOG. Especially we do not have a DOG." And she said, "Listen,
missy." FUCKING MISSY! "Listen, missy. I've lived in this neighborhood for six years, and I
jog every morning. This dog appeared out of nowhere and started crapping on my lawn. I'm
not asking you to get rid of it, I'm just asking you to clean up his crap." And I practically started
crying - look at me I'm crying now-and I said, "Ma'am, people have accused me of many things
before, but they have never accused me of having a dog. You need to investigate further, you
need to knock on other doors-" And she said - her voice changed and she said, "Look, if it
craps on my lawn one more time, I am calling the police" and I said, "Are you. kidding? The
police are going to fucking LAUGH IN YOUR FACE if you call them about some dogshit." And
she said, "AHA! So you DO have a DOG!" And I said, "No, no, no, no, no fucking NO there is
no dog here, lady!" And she just shook her head and kind of kicked our plant and said, "Ha, I
thought it was fake." And turned around. I mean FUCK, Kenny, FUCK. This is like FUCKED
UP. (SHARON sees BEN) What the fuck happened?

Saturday, 29 March 2014

The Crucible by Arthur Miller


PROCTOR: You have all witnessed it—it is enough. You have all witnessed it; what more is needed? No—no I have signed it. You have seen me. It is done! You have no need for this. Damn the village! I confess to God and God has seen my name on this! It is enough! You came to save my soul, did you not? Here—I have confessed myself, it is enough! I have confessed myself! Is there no good penitence but it be public? God does not need my name nailed upon the church! God sees my name, God knows how black my sins are! It is enough. You will not use me! I am no Sarah Good or Tituba, I am John Proctor! You will not use me! I have three children—how may I teach them to walk like men in the world and I sold my friends? I blacken all of them when this is nailed to the church the very day they hang for silence! You are the high court, your word is good enough! Tell them I confessed myself, say Proctor broke his knees and wept like a woman, say what you will, but my name cannot…  I mean to deny nothing. Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life. Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! How may I live without my name? I have given you my soul, leave me my name!

ABIGAIL: I cannot bear lewd looks no more, John. My spirit's changed entirely. I ought to be given 
Godly looks when I suffer for them as I do. Look at my leg. I'm holes all over from their damned 
needles and pins. The jab your wife gave me's not healed yet, y'know. And George Jacobs comes again 
and again and raps me with his stick - the same spot every night all this week. Looks at the lump I 
Oh John, the world's so full of hypocrites! They pray in jail, I'm told they pray in jail! And torture me in 
my bed while sacred words are coming from their mouths! It will need God Himself to cleanse this 
town properly. If I live, if I am not murdured, I will surely cry out others until the last hypocrite is dead!
But John, you taught me goodness, therefore you are good. It were a fire you walked me through and 
all my ignorance was burned away. It were a fire, John, we lay in fire. And from that night no woman 
called me wicked any more but I knew my answer. I used to weep for my sins when the wind lifted up 
my skirts; and blushed for shame because some old Rebecca called me loose. And then you burned my 
ignorance away. As bare as some December tree I saw them all – walking like saints to church, running 
to feed the sick, and hypocrites in their hearts! And God gave me strength to call them liars and God 
made men listen to me, and by God I will scrub the world clean for the love of Him! John, I will make 
you such a wife when the world is white again! You will be amazed to see me every day, a light of 
heaven in your house!

Mary Warren:
I never knew it before. I never knew anything before. When she come into the court I say to myself, I must not 
accuse this woman, for she sleeps in ditches, and so very old and poor. But then- then she sit there, denying and 
denying, and I feel a misty coldness climbin' up my back, and the skin on my skull begin to creep, and I feel a clamp 
around my neck and I cannot breathe air; and then (entranced) I hear a voice, a screamin' voice, and it were my 
voice- and all at once I remembered everything she done to me! 
(Like one awakened to a marvelous secret insight)
So many times, Mr. Proctor, she come to this very door, beggin' bread and a cup of cider-and mark this: whenever I 
turned her away empty, she mumbled. But what does she mumble? You must remember, Goody Proctor. Last 
month-a Monday, I think--she walked away, and I thought my guts would burst for two days after. Do you 
remember it? 
And so I told that to Judge Hathorne, and he asks her so. "Sarah Good," says he, "what curse do you mumble that 
this girl must fall sick after turning you away?" And then she replies (mimicking an old crone) "Why, your 
excellence, no curse at all. I only say my commandments; I hope I may say my commandments," says she! Then 
Judge Hathorne say, "Recite for us your commandments!" (Leaning avidly toward them) And of all the ten she 
could not say a single one. She never knew no commandments, and they had her in a flat lie!


Now look you. All of you. We danced, And Tituba conjured Ruth Putman’s dead sisters. And that is all.. And mark 
this—let either of you breath a word , or the edge of a word about the other things, and I will come on you in the 
black of some terrible night and I will bring a pointy reconing that will shudder you. And you know I can do it, I saw 
Indians smash my dear parents heads on the pillow next to mine, and I have see some reddish work done at night, 
and I can make you wish you had never see the sun go down!!! Now you….Betty, sit up and stop this!!!

Thursday, 20 March 2014

Educating Rita by Willy Russell

Background Info: Liverpool accent, England.

(angrily) But I don’t wanna be charming and delightful: funny. What’s funny? I don’t wanna be funny. I wanna talk seriously with the rest of you, I don’t wanna spend the night takin’ the piss, comin’ on with the funnies because that’s the only way I can get into the conversation. I didn’t want to come to your house just to play the court jester.(....)
But I don’t want to be myself. Me? What’s me? Some stupid woman who gives us all a laugh because she thinks she can learn, because she thinks one day she’ll be like the rest of them, talking seriously, confidently, with knowledge, livin’ a civilised life. Well, she can’t be like that really but bring her in because she’s good for a laugh!
I’m all right with you, here in this room; but when I saw those people you were with I couldn’t come in. I would have seized up. Because I’m a freak. I can’t talk to the people I live with anymore. An’ I can’t talk to the likes of them on Saturday, or them out there, because I can’t learn the language. I’m a half- caste. I went back to the pub where Denny was, an’ me mother, an’ our Sandra, an’ her mates. I’d decided I was n’t comin’ here again. I went into the pub an’ they were singin’, all of them singin’ some song they’d learnt from the juke- box. An’ I stood in that pub an’ thought, just what the frig am I trying to do? Why don’t I just pack it in an’ stay with them, an’ join in the singin’?
(Angrily) You think I can, don’t you? Just because you pass a pub doorway an’ hear the singin’ you think we’re all O.K., that we’re all survivin’, with the spirit intact. Well I did join in with the singin’, I didn’t ask any questions, I just went along with it. But when I looked round me mother had stopped singin’, an’ she was cryin’, but no one could get it out of her why she was cryin’. Everyone just said she was pissed an’ we should get her home. So we did, an’ on the way home I asked her why. I said, ‘Why are y’ cryin’, Mother?’ She said, ‘Because- because we could sing better songs than those.’ Ten minutes later Denny had her laughing and singing again, pretending she hadn’t said it. But she had. And that’s why I came back. And that’s why I’m staying.

Spilled Milk by Kellie Powell

Background Info: Joan returns from a year away at college and confronts an old friend at her homecoming party. Just before Joan departed, her friend Helen did something Joan considers unforgivable - she failed to protect Joan from a possible threat of sexual assault.

JOAN: It happened right here, you know. Almost a year ago. Right before I left. He came to the party with Kevin and his friends. And he liked you right away. Like they always do. Oh, I got used to being invisible, whenever you were around a long time ago. I mean, just look at you. And look at me. If I were a guy, I wouldn't look twice at me, either. The point is, he wanted you. No surprise. He saw you, he wanted you. And you definitely didn't want him. And he could tell. And that was when I moved in for the kill.

Everyone was drinking. People were starting to leave. We were sitting on the floor in the living room, and I kissed him. You saw us, and you watched me bring him up here. And then you went to sleep on the couch.Like you had a dozen other nights, after a dozen other parties. And then... everyone else left. I brought him here. We were kissing... and he was a good kisser. And he... he started... and I didn't stop him.And then, he went downstairs, to the bathroom. And he was gone a longtime. And when he came back, he brought a condom.

I woke up the next morning, and he was gone. And I put on my clothes,and I came downstairs, and you were there, sleeping. And I woke you up, and I told you what had happened. I told you that I had slept with him. And you know what you told me? You said, "I woke up, in the middle of the night, and he was on top of me." He was feeling you up,in your sleep. He was groping you, basically molesting you... while you were passed out. You woke up, and his hand was in your crotch. I mean, that's what you said, right? It was... strange, how it didn't really seem to bother you. But I guess you've had guys do worse. You told me all this... so calmly. Like, it meant so little... You said,"I woke up, and I made him stop, and I kept telling him, 'Go back to Joan. Go back upstairs with Joan.'" You said, "I gave him a condom from my purse." Why? Why would you do that? I mean, what the f#ck is wrong with you? A guy tries to assault you while you're passed out,and you think, "I know. I'll send him upstairs to my best friend."Why?
Why didn't you kick him out of my f#cking house? You could have screamed bloody murder and woken up my parents. You could have threatened to press charges. What he did was assault. What do you think would have happened if you hadn't woken up? He could have raped you. And you... you sent him back to me. How generous. How benevolent.Why didn't you f#cking warn me? Why did you wait until the next morning to tell me what he did? Why didn't you tell me right then?God, Helen. I mean, think about it. You send this guy, this guy... who has just violated you... up to my attic. What do you think would have happened if I had said no?

It never occurred to you... that I might say no? Well, sure. That makes sense. I mean, I had certainly brought enough guys up to the attic that summer, hadn't I? Yeah. I mean, I kissed this guy this guy,who I barely knew. So, I guess I deserved whatever I got. And you were right. I mean, I didn't say no. But I would have. If I had known what he had done to you, I would have. But you didn't know that? Oh, right. Because I'm such a slut, I'll f#ck anyone. It's what you were thinking, though. It had to be. It's the only explanation. You had a chance to protect me, and you didn't. Because you never thought, not even for a second, that I would say no...

I was drowning! ...And you couldn't see it. You were my best friend. And you couldn't see it. All I wanted was for someone... to look at me the way they all looked at you. I just wanted someone... to want me. Someone, anyone. I didn't f#ck those guys in the attic because I wanted to. I did it to prove that I existed. That I wasn't invisible.And you... you were oblivious.
I would have done anything to protect you. I would have done anything.

Saturday, 15 March 2014

Tomorrow's Wish by Wade Bradford


I kissed a boy once. At least I tried. I don’t know if it counts if they don’t kiss back. But I tried to kiss a boy and it almost worked. Most of the time Grandma and I don’t get to see folks much, but we go into town. Sometimes. And Grandma says I just have to be careful to mind my manners, and Grandma says I’m real good at being careful, but sometimes I get so bored in that little town. Only one video store. Only two churches. And the park only has two swings and a pool that never gets filled up anymore. But in our little town there is a boy named Samuel. He's a bag-boy at the grocery store. He does it just right and never squishes the eggs. And he has red hair and green eyes. And… (Laughs at the memory.) Freckles all over his face! And Samuel is so nice. So nice to me and Gram. He would always smile and always say “thank you” and “your welcome.” If he says, “Have a nice day,” then you do. That’s how good he is at his job. And I always wanted… I always wanted to be close to him, or to talk to him, without Gram around. And one day when Grandma had a really bad cold I got to go to the store all by myself. And I bought some oyster crackers and some medicine. Then I got to watch Samuel all by myself. Watch him do his bag boy job. I just stared and stared, trying to count all of those handsome freckles. Then, he asked if there was anything else I wanted. I just whispered “Yes.” (Pauses, closes eyes in remembrance.) And then I grabbed him by the ears and MmmmmmmMM! (Pretends she’s grabbing and kissing him.) That was my first kiss. It was the most romantic moment of my life. Until the manager pulled me off of him.

Thursday, 13 March 2014

Antigone by Sophocles

SENTRY:  It was this way.  After I got back to the place,
With all your threats and curses ringing in my ears,
We swept off all the earth that covered the body,
And left it a sodden, naked corpse again;
Then sate up on the hill, on the windward side,
345 Keeping clear of the stench of him, as far as we could;
All of us keeping each other up to the mark,
With pretty sharp speaking, not to be caught napping this time.
So this went on some hours, till the flaming sun
Was high in the top of the sky, and the heat was blazing.
350 Suddenly a storm of dust, like a plague from heaven,
        Filling the sky; you had to shut your eyes
To stand against it.  When at last it stopped,
There was a girl, screaming like an angry bird,
355 When it finds its nest empty and little ones gone.
Just like that she screamed, seeing the body
Naked, crying and cursing the ones who had done it.
Then she picks up the dry earth in her hands,
And pouring out of a fine bronze urn she’s brought
360 She makes her offering three times to the dead15
Soon as we saw it, down we came and caught her.
She wasn’t at all frightened.  As so we charged her
With what she’d done before, and this.  She admitted it,
I’m glad to say—though sorry, too, in a way.
365 It’s good to save your own skin, but a pity
To have to see another get into trouble,
Whom you’ve no grudge against.  However, I can’t say
I’ve ever valued anyone else’s life

More than my own, and that’s the honest truth.

That order did not come from God.  Justice,
That dwells with the gods below, knows no such law.
380 I did not think your edicts strong enough
To overrule the unwritten unalterable laws
Of God and heaven, you being only a man.
They are not of yesterday or today, but everlasting
Though where they came from, none of us can tell.
385 Guilty of their transgression before God
I cannot be, for any man on earth.
I knew that I should die, of course,
With or without your order.   If it be soon,
So much the better.  Living in daily torment
390 As I do, who would not be glad to die?
This punishment will not be any pain.
Only if I let my mother’s son
Lie there unburied, then I could not have borne it.
This I can bear.  Does that seem foolish to you?
395 Or is it you that are foolish to judge me so?

CREON:           Ah, but you’ll see.  The over-obstinate spirit
Is soonest broken; as the strongest iron will snap 
400 If over-tempered in the fire to brittleness.
A little halter is enough to break
The wildest horse.  Proud thoughts do not sit well
Upon subordinates.  This girl’s proud spirit
Was first in evidence when she broke the law;
405 And now, to add insult to her injury,
She gloats over her deed.  But, as I live,
She shall not flout my orders with impunity.
My sister’s child—ay, were she ever nearer,
Nearest and dearest, she should not escape
410 Full punishment—she, and her sister too, 
Her partner, doubtless, in this burying.
Let her be fetched!  She was in the house just now;
I saw her, hardly in her right mind either.
Often the thoughts of those who plan dark deeds
415 Betray themselves before the deed is done.
The criminal who being caught still tries.
To make a fair excuse , is damned indeed.

Shakespeare Monologues



Since what I am to say must be but that
Which contradicts my accusation and
The testimony on my part no other

But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me
To say 'not guilty:' mine integrity
Being counted falsehood, shall, as I express it,
Be so received.

But thus: if powers divine
Behold our human actions, as they do,
I doubt not then but innocence shall make
False accusation blush and tyranny
Tremble at patience.

You, my lord, best know,
Who least will seem to do so, my past life
Hath been as continent, as chaste, as true,
As I am now unhappy;

which is more
Than history can pattern, though devised
And play'd to take spectators.

For behold me
A fellow of the royal bed, which owe
A moiety of the throne

a great king's daughter,
The mother to a hopeful prince, here standing
To prate and talk for life and honour 'fore
Who please to come and hear.

For life, I prize it
As I weigh grief, which I would spare: for honour,
'Tis a derivative from me to mine,
And only that I stand for.

I appeal
To your own conscience, sir, before Polixenes
Came to your court, how I was in your grace,
How merited to be so;

since he came,
With what encounter so uncurrent I
Have strain'd to appear thus:

if one jot beyond The bound of honour, or in act or will
That way inclining,
harden'd be the hearts
Of all that hear me, and my near'st of kin

Cry fie upon my grave!


LAUNCELOT: Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and tempts me, saying to me, 'Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot,' or 'good Gobbo,' or 'good Launcelot Gobbo -- use your legs, take the start, run away.' My conscience says, 'No. Take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo,' or as aforesaid, 'honest Launcelot Gobbo -- do not run; scorn running with thy heels.' Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack. 'Fia!' says the fiend; 'away!' says the fiend. 'For the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,' says the fiend, 'and run.' Well, my conscience hanging about the neck of my heart says very wisely to me, 'My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son' -- or rather 'an honest woman's son,' for indeed my father did something smack, something grow to; he had a kind of taste -- Well, my conscience says, 'Launcelot, budge not.' 'Budge,' says the fiend. 'Budge not,' says my conscience. 'Conscience,' say I, 'you counsel well.' 'Fiend,' say I, 'you counsel well.' To be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master who, God bless the mark, is a kind of devil; and to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil incarnation; And in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more friendly counsel. I will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment; I will run.



I left no ring with her: what means this lady?
Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!
She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion
Invites me in this churlish messenger. 
None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none.
I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. 
How easy is it for the proper-false
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!
For such as we are made of, such we be.
How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly; 
And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love;
As I am woman,.now alas the day!. 
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
O time! thou must untangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me to untie!



Is Brutus sick? and is it physical
To walk unbraced and suck up the humours
Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, 
And will he steal out of his wholesome bed,
To dare the vile contagion of the night
And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air
To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus;
You have some sick offence within your mind,
Which, by the right and virtue of my place,
I ought to know of: and, upon my knees,
I charm you, by my once-commended beauty,
By all your vows of love and that great vow
Which did incorporate and make us one, 
That you unfold to me, yourself, your half,
Why you are heavy, and what men to-night
Have had to resort to you: for here have been
Some six or seven, who did hide their faces
Even from darkness.

Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus,
Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper, 
You suddenly arose, and walk'd about,
Musing and sighing, with your arms across,
And when I ask'd you what the matter was,
You stared upon me with ungentle looks;
I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head, 
And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot;
Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not,
But, with an angry wafture of your hand,
Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did;
Fearing to strengthen that impatience 
Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal
Hoping it was but an effect of humour,
Which sometime hath his hour with every man.
It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep,
And could it work so much upon your shape 
As it hath much prevail'd on your condition,
I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord,
Make me acquainted with your cause of grief.



Think not I love him, though I ask for him.
'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well; 
But what care I for words? yet words do well, 
When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. 
It is a pretty youth: not very pretty: 
But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him:
He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him 
Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue 
Did make offence his eye did heal it up.
He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall:
His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well: 
There was a pretty redness in his lip, 
A little riper and more lusty red 
Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference
Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. 
There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him 
In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him; but, for my part, 
I love him not nor hate him not; and yet 
Have more cause to hate him than to love him: 
For what had he to do to chide at me?
He said mine eyes were black and my hair black;
And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me. 
I marvel why I answer'd not again: 
But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.
I'll write to him a very taunting letter, 
And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius?

I would not be thy executioner:
I fly thee, for I would not injure thee.
Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye:
'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, 
That eyes, that are the and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies, 
Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers!
Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; 
And, if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee;
Now counterfeit to swound; why now fall down; 
Or, if thou canst not, O! for shame, for shame, 
Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers. 
Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee;
Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains 
Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, 
The cicatrice and capable impressure 
Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes,
Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not,
Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes 
That can do hurt.



Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir;
If idle talk will once be necessary,
I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin,
Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I
Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court;
Nor once be chastised with the sober eye 
Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up
And show me to the shouting varletry
Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt
Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud
Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies 
Blow me into abhorring! rather make
My country's high pyramides my gibbet,
And hang me up in chains!

No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded 
By such poor passion as the maid that milks
And does the meanest chares. It were for me
To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods;
To tell them that this world did equal theirs
Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught; 
Patience is scottish, and impatience does
Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin
To rush into the secret house of death,
Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women?
What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian! 
My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look,
Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart:
We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, what's noble, Let's do it after the high Roman fashion,
And make death proud to take us. Come, away:
This case of that huge spirit now is cold:
Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend

But resolution, and the briefest end. 

O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this,
That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me,
Doing the honour of thy lordliness 
To one so meek, that mine own servant should
Parcel the sum of my disgraces by
Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar,
That I some lady trifles have reserved,
Immoment toys, things of such dignity
As we greet modern friends withal; and say,
Some nobler token I have kept apart
For Livia and Octavia, to induce
Their mediation; must I be unfolded
With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me
Beneath the fall I have.
Prithee, go hence;
Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits
Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man,
Thou wouldst have mercy on me.



Speak to me, son:
Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,
To imitate the graces of the gods;
To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air,
And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt
That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak?
Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man
Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you:
He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy:
Perhaps thy childishness will move him more
Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world
More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate
Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life
Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy,
When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood,
Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home,
Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust,
And spurn me back: but if it be not so,
Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee,
That thou restrain'st from me the duty which
To a mother's part belongs. He turns away:
Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees.
To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride
Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end;
This is the last: so we will home to Rome,
And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's:
This boy, that cannot tell what he would have
But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship,
Does reason our petition with more strength
Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go:
This fellow had a Volscian to his mother;
His wife is in Corioli and his child
Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch:
I am hush'd until our city be a-fire,
And then I'll speak a little.

Dogface by Kellie Powell

Background Info: 
Dogface confronts her friend, Ethan. They recently slept together, which she thought implied that their relationship was moving to a new level, but Ethan has instead been ignoring her and pretending that nothing happened.

I don't want to get all Hallmark card on you, but, you are my best friend. We've been through so much together. You know me better than I have ever let anyone know me. You're the first person I've ever met who understands me, who thinks the way I do, who gets me. Am I crazy? Am I wrong? Because... you're important to me.
If you just aren't attracted to me... I could understand that. I know you can't choose who you want, you can't control those feelings. The heart wants what the heart wants. If we could choose... then I could stop wanting you. I know it doesn't work like that. So, if you just don't like me that way... but, you do, don't you? You must. I mean, at least a little? You can't find me too repulsive, you're the one who kissed me... Did I do something wrong? I mean, was I not... good? Was I too easy?
Was I supposed to play hard to get? I don't know how to be coy and play games. No one ever explained the rules to me. All I know how to do is be honest. And you said that was something you loved about me.
Is it... are you ashamed? Is that why you're pretending like it didn't happen? That's it, isn't it. You're ashamed. Right. I mean, who wouldn't be ashamed to be with me? I'm Dogface. You can f#ck Dogface behind closed doors, but you can't introduce her to your friends. You can't bring her home to meet your mom.
You said... you're not ready. Is anyone ever ready for their life to change? How do you expect to learn anything? We'll make all kinds of stupid mistakes and feel like idiots and - welcome to the human condition! Trial and error, it's the only way to learn. No one's ever ready.
You said... you don't want to get serious. But how am I supposed to act casual about something this intense, this rare? You're the first person to see me - how can that not be a big deal? Look at me. How many chances am I going to have in life? I think I could love you. I think you could have loved me.
And if I'm crazy, then I'm crazy. If I'm wrong, then, okay, I'm wrong. But if I'm right, and you're just too chicken sh1t to deal with the possibility of something real and rare and dangerous and life-altering, then... then I'm not even sure I would want to love someone so stupid!
I think I finally understand why they say that you "lose" your virginity. I always thought that was a dumb expression. It makes it sounded like your virginity was this special, sacred thing you were supposed to guard with your life. When to me... the fact that I'd never had sex was like... a flashing neon sign saying, "Ugly loser" hanging over my head. I was trying to "lose" it. Hell, for a couple of years there, I was trying to throw it at anyone who gave me a second look.
But now, I mean... I do feel like I have lost something. Not my purity or innocence or any of that... dogmatic bullshit. I've lost... the walls I built to protect myself from feeling... this. I've lost the ability to distance myself from the rest of the lowly humans... my position of self-deprecating superiority that let me live without hope for all those years...
I lost my isolation. I let you in. And I gave you the power to hurt me.
See, I want to be a cat. Because... most cats are very independent creatures. They can be domesticated, but, for the most part, they don't really act like pets as much as they act like caged predators.
They fend for themselves. And sometimes, sometimes, when they want you to give them a little affection, they crawl into your lap, and they purr, and they let you pet them, and love them. And then, after a little while, they get sick of you, and they scratch you, and they jump up and they run away. Cats are fierce. Cats get what they need from you, and then they just move on.
I'm not a cat. I'm a dog. Dogs are not independent. Dogs love you, pretty much unconditionally. They are so loyal, it defies all logic. Dogs need you, and they let you know that they need you. They need you to love them. They cry when you leave in the morning, and they jump for joy when you come home at night. They always want your attention. They can't get enough of your love.
I don't want to be a dog. But I am. I think I always will be.

Wednesday, 5 March 2014


Act II Scene VI 

You’ve made some pretty outrageous, bloody- 
minded remarks in your life, Fay, but that one’s 
really got to take the cake. If you think I’d touch 
that greasy little meatball in a dinner suit, you not 
only need your head read, you need a complete 
overhaul from top to bottom! Not only am I not 
attracted to him in any way, but I find his very 
existence a blot on the dignity of the entire human 
race. Vain, pompous, arrogant, with the dress 
sense of a hedge-hog and the subtlety of a chain- 
saw, he has got to be the most personally 
disgusting, violently backward, pettily boorish and 
thoroughly repulsive excuse for a man I have 
ever met. I wouldn’t touch him if you threatened 
me with twelve hours of Richard Carlton Tapes! I 
wouldn’t date him if he and Paul Lyneman were 
the last two men in the world! Morty’s the kind of 
human leggo-set that makes a bag of wet cement 
look exciting! He’s revolting, Fay! Absolutely, 
unashamedly, irredeemably, revolting: and the 
very idea of him and me together makes me 
physically sick! How could you? The man’s a 
human fur-ball!

TOP GIRLS by Caryl Churchill

Act II Scene I 

My present job at present. I have a car. I have a 
Porsche. I go up the M1 a lot. Burn up the M1 a 
lot. Straight up the M1 in the fast lane to where 
the clients are, Staffordshire, Yorkshire, I do a lot 
in Yorkshire. I’m selling electric things. Like 
dishwashers, washing machines, stainless steel 
tubs are a feature and the reliability of the 
programme. After sales service, we offer a very 
good after sales service, spare parts, plenty of 
spare parts. And fridges, I sell a lot of fridges 
specially in the summer. People want to buy 
fridges in the summer because of the heat 
melting the butter and you get fed up standing the 
milk in a basin of cold water with a cloth over, 
stands to reason people don’t want to do that in 
this day and age. So I sell a lot of them. Big ones 
with big freezers. Big freezers. And I stay in 
hotels at night when I’m away from home. On my 
expense account. I stay in various hotels. They 
know me, the ones I go to. I check in, have a 
bath, have a shower. Then I go down to the bar, 
have a gin and tonic, have a chat. Then I go into 
the dining room and have dinner. I usually have 
fillet steak and mushrooms, I like mushrooms. I 
like smoked salmon very much. I like having a 
salad on the side. Green salad. I don’t like