dramatic musical theatre monologues

I cant tell if youre coming or going. . Are you still happy? I tried to do right. But it isnt true. . Between them, the death of a father has interposed so little hatred, that the duty of blood with regret pursues him. He sees another soul to eat. (then, pitiful) Just look what its done to you. Manage Settings There was a time I could see. 1883 2. Tis thouHast sold me to this novice, and my heartMakes only wars on thee. . I chose to love him. I TRIED TO STOP IT (West Side Story) I REMEMBER EVERYTHING (Oaklahoma) WHY NOT ME TOO? The Sixth Amendment was ratified in 1791. Ill to my brother:Though he hath fallen by prompture of the blood,Yet hath he in him such a mind of honour.That, had he twenty heads to tender downOn twenty bloody blocks, held yield them up,Before his sister should her body stoopTo such abhorrd pollution.Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die:More than our brother is our chastity.Ill tell him yet of Angelos request,And fit his mind to death, for his souls rest. But finally we all realized there was no hope. Pitiless fate, whose severity separates my glory and my desires! You will lie with the rest of your kind in the dirt your dreams forgotten. insolently cover their fierce resentment with the cause of Heaven. All you know is you find them repulsive. I thought about having Ser Gregor crush your skull the way he did Oberyns. (beat). Abigail, is there any other cause than you have told me, for Goody Proctor discharging you? Running time is anywhere from 1-2-3 minutes long. I have no spurTo prick the sides of my intent, but onlyVaulting ambition, which oerleaps itselfAnd falls on the other. Have fun preparing for your . Then we perceive that all of us was not in that act, and that it would be an atrocious injustice to judge us by that action alone, as if all our existence were summed up in that one deed. Theatre Monologues for Teenagers | Monologue Database . The world gets colder week by week as the world slowly dies. He is sternAs I am heedless and the slaves deserveTo feel a master. one of those weak and divided people who slip like shadows among you solid strong ones. Im somebody now, Harry. 24 Dramatic Monologues For Teenage Females 1. NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from The Dramatic Works of Molire, Vol. nay, gave noticeHe was from thence discharged. A monologue from the play by Tristine Skyler. An assortment of public domain monologues taken from classic plays organized by gender and type. And everything would have been different. Anyway, wed kinda been delaying the conversation and Halloween rolls around and Alex has a pirate outfit and a skeleton costume laid out for him on his bed and he asks, what about Snow White? (Pause.) Thats five opportunities he done threw away. ), I dont know if it was a girl dressed like a guy or a guy dressed like a girl dressed like a guy. So uh, you, uh, never know what what events are to transpire to get you home. But none could describe this place. % And as I know nothing in the world so noble and so beautiful as the holy fervour of genuine piety, so there is nothing, I think, so odious as the whitewashed outside of a specious zeal; as those downright imposters. Because, after 25 years of building a home and raising a family and all the senseless pain that we have inflicted on each other. But you know what? I have given you a home, child, I have put clothes upon your backnow give me upright answer: your name in the townit is entirely white, is it not? Just a minute. Sir, spare your threats:The bug which you would fright me with I seek.To me can life be no commodity:The crown and comfort of my life, your favour,I do give lost; for I do feel it gone,But know not how it went. He is worthy of me, but he belongs to Chimne; the present which I made of him [to her], injures me. All monologues must be from published plays (no musicals; no film/TV scripts; no original material). Youre Virtual Dad! by Victor Hugo And sensitive. He gave me this, you know. All lives, save loveless lives, true Love should pardon. They came en masse, dressed in their Alexanders best. O, the cry did knockAgainst my very heart. My Mom had the same bathrobe in blue. Oh, she said. Even Ser Gregor couldnt stop him. A monologue from the screenplay by Chap Taylor & Michael Tolkin. a beast, that wants discourse of reason,Would have mournd longermarried with my uncle,My fathers brother, but no more like my fatherThan I to Hercules: within a month:Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tearsHad left the flushing in her galled eyes,She married. And thats when this feeling came over me like a warm blanket. 3 0 obj And I cant even tell now what my altitude is. A monologue from the play by Lope de Vega. Its a valuable future. I know what youre doing. Believes Terentius,If these were dangersas I shame to think themThe gods could change the certain course of fate?Or, if they could, they would now, in a moment,For a beefs fat, or less, be bribed t invertThose long decrees? Michael Doemel - Actor, Dancer, Drama Teacher, English Teacher Its like theres a fire burning in the center of my head, Mary, and the pipe is the water that will put it out. I know that. I tell her that if maybe we had people around she would start to feel better. All the crops are long gone. He will not useHis past experience, like a man of sense,To judge the present need, but lends an earTo any croaker if he augurs ill.Since then my counsels naught avail, I turnTo thee, our present help in time of trouble,Apollo, Lord Lycean, and to theeMy prayers and supplications here I bring.Lighten us, lord, and cleanse us from this curse!For now we all are cowed like marinersWho see their helmsman dumbstruck in the storm. Id show you but Im too old; Im too tired; Im too f***in blind. Tis I:Do you know me now? I realized as a woman how lucky I was. No matter where of comfort no man speak.Lets talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs,Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyesWrite sorrow on the bosom of the earth.Lets choose executors and talk of wills.And yet not so for what can we bequeathSave our deposed bodies to the ground?Our lands, our lives, and all, are Bolingbrokes,And nothing can we call our own but death;And that small model of the barren earthWhich serves as paste and cover to our bones.For Gods sake let us sit upon the groundAnd tell sad stories of the death of kings:How some have been deposd, some slain in war,Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed,Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killd,All murdered for within the hollow crownThat rounds the mortal temples of a kingKeeps Death his court, and there the antic sits,Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,Allowing him a breath, a little scene,To monarchize, be feard, and kill with looks;Infusing him with self and vain conceit,As if this flesh which walls about our lifeWere brass impregnable; and, humourd thus,Comes at the last, and with a little pinBores through his castle wall, and farewell king!Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and bloodWith solemn reverence; throw away respect,Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;For you have but mistook me all this while.I live with bread like you, feel want,Taste grief, need friends subjected thus,How can you say to me, I am a king? Every inch of me shall perish. Come, come, Lavinia; look, thy foes are bound.Sirs, stop their mouths, let them not speak to me;But let them hear what fearful words I utter.O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!Here stands the spring whom you have staind with mud,This goodly summer swith your winter mixd.You killd her husband, and for that vile faultTwo of her brothers were condemnd to death,My hand cut off and made a merry jest;Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dearThan hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,Inhuman traitors, you constraind and forcedWhat would you say, if I should let you speak?Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace.Hark, wretches! What if this cursed handWere thicker than itself with brothers blood,Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavensTo wash it white as snow? And it was it was it was leading me home. Heaven witness,I have been to you a true and humble wife,At all times to your will conformable;Ever in fear to kindle your dislike,Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorryAs I saw it inclined: when was the hourI ever contradicted your desire,Or made it not mine too? A monologue from the play by John Webster. Is not that glimmer there afar That dying exhalation that pale star A tiny taper, which, with trembling blazeFlickering twixt struggling flames and dying rays,With ineffectual sparkMakes the dark dwelling place appear more dark?Yes, for its distant light,Reflected dimly, brings before my sightA dungeons awful gloom,Say rather of a living corse, a living tomb;And to increase my terror and surprise,Drest in the skins of beasts a man there lies:A piteous sight,Chained, and his sole companion this poor light.Since then we cannot fly,Let us attentive to his words draw nigh,Whatever they may be. I found the letters you wrote to him as a child, and I read them. (Undine realizes the addicts are eavesdropping and finds herself including them in her confessional.). Australian Monologues for Men and Women - StageMilk . This is the moment when you swing by to tell me youre leaving again, on a longer trip with a bigger grant to study something even stranger than before, before Im even used to having you around? The heartsThat spanieled me at heels, to whom I gaveTheir wishes, do discandy, melt their sweetsOn blossoming Caesar, and this pine is barkedThat overtopped them all. lofty precipice from which mine honor falls! NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from The Moscow Art Theatre Series of Plays. So I ran away, crossed the shining sea and when I finally set foot back on sole ground the first thing I heard was that goddamn voice. Ill show you outta order! Can I move this?. We all looked at each other then back at Mary as she happily made her way to the stove to put on the kettle. A monologue from the play by Pedro Calderon De La Barca. Is it decreed [lit. He, however, is very shy when it comes to interacting with the opposite sex. Find Your Monologue Below! endobj What do you really wanna know? A man might approach love with the best intentions, ready to give his all, and yet find that he walks on a path well trod, through a vale of tears. Why did I fail? that bed, that womb,That metal, that self-mould, that fashiond theeMade him a man; and though thou livest and breathest,Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consentIn some large measure to thy fathers death,In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,Who was the model of thy fathers life.Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair:In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughterd,Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life,Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee:That which in mean men we intitle patienceIs pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.What shall I say? A time, methinks, too shortTo make a world-without-end bargain in.No, no, my lord, your grace is perjured much,Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this:If for my love, as there is no such cause,You will do aught, this shall you do for me:Your oath I will not trust; but go with speedTo some forlorn and naked hermitage,Remote from all the pleasures of the world;There stay until the twelve celestial signsHave brought about the annual reckoning.If this austere insociable lifeChange not your offer made in heat of blood;If frosts and fasts, hard lodging and thin weedsNip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,But that it bear this trial and last love;Then, at the expiration of the year,Come challenge me, challenge me by these deserts,And, by this virgin palm now kissing thineI will be thine; and till that instant shutMy woeful self up in a mourning house,Raining the tears of lamentationFor the remembrance of my fathers death.If this thou do deny, let our hands part,Neither entitled in the others heart.