6 Monologues

And Turning, Stay
By Kellie Powell

Amy, a high school student, confronts Mark, a close friend who led her on and let her down.

AMY:Don't you dare walk away from me! And don't tell me you're sorry! And don't tell me to forget it, and don't you dare tell me to "let it go." God knows, I'd like to. I wish I could, but I can't! I can't forget that we had something, and you're running away. You're running away! Don't you see, Mark? You're running from what I've searched for all my life! Why, because you're scared? Well, I'm scared too, but you and I - we have something worth fighting for. We could make it work, I'm not saying it would be easy, but I care about you. And I know deep down, under this (Spitting out the word.) bravado, you care about me. And that's what it's all about, Mark, don't you get it? It's the human experience. You can pretend all you want, but you're only lying to yourself. You're denying the simple and wonderful fact that you are emotional, and vulnerable, and alive.
Can you honestly stand there and tell me that I mean nothing to you? That everything that happened that night was a lie? That you feel nothing? (AMY is crying or close to it. The following is a painful statement that she makes not to attack or threaten Mark but rather, to allow herself closure with the situation.) I feel sorry for you, Mark. I'll move on. I'll find someone else. I'll be all right, because I will know that I tried. That I did everything I could. But someday you will look back, and you will realize what you threw away. And you will regret it always.


I like this monoglue because of the emotion it portrays. I am quite a strong minded person so the nature of this piece suits me well as it will enable me to get quite worked up as the monologue builds, and then show a different side when she starts to get upset.

Richard Fisher's Funeral

By Kellie Powell

Drew attends her estranged father's funeral. When pressured by her late father's fiancee to forgive and eulogize him, Drew resists - at first politely, then firmly, and finally, she erupts with frustration.

DREW:
You don't get it. I've been afraid of my father all my life. I spent every waking moment trying to keep him from exploding. Trying to do everything just right - and not just believing, but knowing... that one day he would kill me. That he'd kill us all.
My first memory... is the day my brother spilled a can of paint down the stairs. My parents were painting the house. Ricky thought he was helping, but it was too heavy for him, and... paint just went flying, everywhere. I held my breath. I don't know why I thought that would help.
My father put his fist through the wall. I screamed. Ricky and I started crying. And the whole time that he... the whole time, he kept yelling at us to stop crying. I couldn't. I thought he was going to kill us both, and my mother couldn't stop him. I was four years old. Ricky was two.
And I have been living in that hole in the wall, ever since.
I can't forgive him. I won't pretend. So go read "Footprints in the Sand" if it'll make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Today my father's going in the ground. Except I don't remember having a father. A father couldn't do that to his kids.


I really like this monologue because of how she talks about her father and the emotion behind it, which I think I would be good at portraying. Although I have not been mistreated by a family member or had anyone with mental health issues close to me so I do not have any personal experiences to relate to. Although one of my close friends has lost her dad so I have some experience with dealing with loss.  

The Plum Coloured Sweater
Genre: COMEDY/DRAMA
Cast: FEMALE
Setting: A CLOTHING STORE
Age Range: 13-25 years old
Description: Jasmine, a beautiful girl in her late teens or early twenties, speaks to her friend, a successful businessman.  She builds up her case of why he should buy a specific sweater for her



JASMINE:

 I want to go shopping. And not just that typical “girl shopping” where you try on seven pairs of low rise jeans and four tank tops in different shades of blue. I don’t need to check to make sure the camel belt looks just right around my…. I don’t need to try on anything—because I know exactly what I want. Right now. 

I want a new sweater. 

And I know I already have a bunch of sweaters, and you’re right—they fit fine. They fit well. Beautifully. And I love them. Really—every one. Well, except for the pilled up grey one. I should really just get rid it. But the others…I wouldn’t stop wearing them. I just…See, I didn’t even know I wanted a new one. You know me. Practical. I don’t buy what I don’t need. At least since I lost all that money, I don’t. And I even saw this sweater, a few weeks ago. On Lilah. And I thought to myself, that’s a cool sweater. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it. But Lilah has it. It’s hers, and…I know you’re not a girl, but…you know how Eva dropped that blueberry cheesecake on my lap at Junior Prom? Got that caramel sauce all over me? Well, that wasn’t because she’s clumsy. It was because I came in a sequin dress too. And that wasn’t even the same color! So…I don’t really want to do that to Lilah. Or have her to anything to me. We run in the same dance circle, you know? 

But this…is…the same sweater. The same cut, the same beautiful purple-plum color, so rich, but light at the same time. That same softness, mixed with a little of something else to make it…rougher? It’s just…it’s a perfect sweater…So I would never have even thought of buying it, but… 

I think it wants me. I know that sounds weird—it’s just a sweater—but a girl sometimes knows these things. And I think it really does… 

I touched it the other day. In the store. Well, it touched me—sort of. I was just walking by it— Eva was with me. We’re talking about how polar bears like to play with their prey before killing them? Sick, right? And she’s saying how she’d just roll up in a ball, pretend she were dead, to bore the polar bear—well, that’s when it happens. That’s when it touches me. And I stop. Right there. I can’t move. My hands get cold and clammy—I think my body temperature even drops. And I know right then, that plum-colored sweater…wants to warm me up…And I want it to. 

 So since then, I’ve been thinking about it, and even dreaming about it. A little…How it would feel against my skin, how I would…But it’s so silly, and I know that. I’m even scared to try it on— to see if it fits how I imagine it will. Because what if it doesn’t? And all that softness becomes roughness? But what if it does? I can’t afford another sweater—this is some sort of hand made elegant—I don’t know—material. It’d be the most expensive piece of clothing I own. Even more than that Michael Kors coat I got at Macy’s. And I shouldn’t even want it. I feel guilty just thinking about it…the expense. The cost. And yes, maybe it’s on sale now, but maybe…maybe it’s not even there now. 

So I guess what I’m asking you—why I’m telling you all this—because I think you can imagine my body in that sweater. And you know my bank account and…well, I was hoping you could…You see, this sweater—excites me. And I do want it. Badly. So…I guess what it comes down to…do you think…I mean…could you get it for me? 

I like this monologue because it is about such a trivial thing and is not as serious as the others. It is a very relaxed and conversational piece which I think would be nice to do and show off naturalistic acting, and is easily relatable because I am a teenage girl and would also obsess over clothes much like Jasmine.
 

I find the language of Shakespeare quite difficult to understand so I have used the site 'No Fear Shakespeare' which gives you a modern translation of the original text. I find this very useful as it helps me to understand what the monologue is about and helps me to figure out how to perform them. 

Shakespearian monologue - The Taming of the Shrew

KATE: 

Fie, fie! Unknit that threat'ning unkind brow

And dart not scornful glances from those eyes

To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.

It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads,

Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds,

And in no sense is meet or amiable.

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,

Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty,

And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty

Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.

Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,

Thy head, thy sovereign, one that cares for thee,

And for thy maintenance commits his body

To painful labor both by sea and land,

To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,

Whilst thou liest warm at home, secure and safe,

And craves no other tribute at thy hands

But love, fair looks and true obedience—

Too little payment for so great a debt.

Such duty as the subject owes the prince,

Even such a woman oweth to her husband.

And when she is froward, peevish, sullen, sour,

And not obedient to his honest will,

What is she but a foul contending rebel

And graceless traitor to her loving lord?

I am ashamed that women are so simple

To offer war where they should kneel for peace;

Or seek for rule, supremacy and sway

When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.

Why are our bodies soft and weak and smooth,

Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,

But that our soft conditions and our hearts

Should well agree with our external parts?

Come, come, you froward and unable worms!

I do not like this monologue as it has lots of words that I do not understand and would be very hard for me to deliver well. It is also quite long and difficult to learn because of the language used in it and the rhythm of the extract. 

Romeo and Juliet

JULIET: Thou knowest the mask of night is on my face;

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek

For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night.

Fain would I dwell on form -- fain, fain deny

What I have spoke; but farewell compliment!

Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay';

And I will take thy word. Yet, if thou swear'st,

Thou mayst prove false. At lovers' perjuries,

They say Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,

If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully.

Or if thou thinkest I am too quickly won,

I'll frown, and be perverse, and say thee nay,

So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.

In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,

And therefore thou mayst think my havior light;

But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true

Than those that have more cunning to be strange.

I should have been more strange, I must confess,

But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,

My true-love passion. Therefore pardon me,

And not impute this yielding to light love,

Which the dark night hath so discovered.

 

HELENA

     Lo, she is one of this confederacy!                                    

     Now I perceive they have conjoin'd all three

     To fashion this false sport, in spite of me.

     Injurious Hermia! most ungrateful maid!

     Have you conspir’d, have you with these contriv’d                        5

     To bait me with this foul derision?

     Is all the counsel that we two have shar’d,

     The sisters' vows, the hours that we have spent

     When we have chid the hasty-footed time

     For parting us--O, is it all forgot?                                       10

     All school-days' friendship, childhood innocence?

     We, Hermia, like two artificial gods,

     Have with our needles created both one flower,

     Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion,

     Both warbling of one song, both in one key,                      15

     As if our hands, our sides, voices and minds,

     Had been incorporate. So we grew together,

     Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,

     But yet an union in partition,

     Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;                          20

     So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart;

     Two of the first, like coats in heraldry,

     Due but to one and crownèd with one crest.

     And will you rent our ancient love asunder

     To join with men in scorning your poor friend?                  25

     It is not friendly, 'tis not maidenly;

     Our sex, as well as I, may chide you for it,

     Though I alone do feel the injury.

Act III, scene 2

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

I like this shakespearian monologue as it is out of a play that I know and like. I understand what is going on and the age is suitable for me as