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 


Act II 

The drones start about eight... they’re small but very 
loud like ‘ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ’...continuous, and at 
about eleven the bombing started. In the first thirty-six 
minutes there were thirty-eight bombs; and that night 
we watched television, and Mr. Bush won. Some of the 
guys were saying, ‘Who cares if Bush or the other guy 
wins...the fact is anyway Iraq is lost. We’ve lost Iraq.’ 
After the thirty-eight bombs they said, ‘Relax, stop 
counting, there’s more to come, make it as a 
background noise’. They were very religious these 
guys. They were sitting doing a lot of Koran; they 
believe their lives were in the hand of God. 
The Americans continued shelling ‘til about five in the 
morning, and then there were the minarets, the call to 
prayer from a hundred minarets and the drones at the 
same time. 
Suddenly, suddenly, ten past five...everything 
stopped...not a shell, nothing...and then I slept for like 
two hours. I was sleeping on the sofa which was also 
very hard, smelling, and I think the mattress might have 
these little things. 
The plan was for me to stay on...we had bought 
everything for the duration, but on that day something 
personal happened that I wasn’t prepared for 
If there were any chemists in Fallujah I didn’t know, and 
how was I going to tell those particular guys to buy 
what I needed, I mean, what? It was not going to sit 
right in lots of different ways; and the place I was 
staying from cleansing point of view was’s the 
hole in the ground...if that’s clean it’s fine....but if it’s 
dirty and yukky and smelly...and anyway we needed to 
buy a generator and candles. 
I decided we should go back to Bagdad...I was in my 
hotel and I heard they had sealed Fallujah completely, 
even the exit I had used to get out. 
We heard that all the guys we stayed with had been 
killed by a bomb. I was crying maybe. They had been 
good to us.