As You Like It: Phoebe

As You Like It by William Shakespeare
Act 3 Scene 5

Phoebe:

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 frail’st and softest things,
Who shut their coward gates on atomies,
Should be called 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 swoon, why, now fall down;
Or if thou canst not, Oh, 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 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.

No Fear version can be found here. If you need it shorter, I suggest cutting it after "Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers."

Can't Hardly Wait: Denise

Can't Hardly Wait by Deborah Kaplan & Harry Elfont
Denise: 

I know exactly who you are. You're Kenny Fisher. 
We used to play Miami Vice in my basement. 
You used to sleepover my house. 
You had to leave the hall light on every night. 
You're Kenny Fisher who used to buy me a card every Valentine's Day 
and a bag of those little hearts with the words on them. 
And you're Kenny Fisher who suddenly got too cool to hang out with me 
when we hit junior high. 'Cause, I was in all the smart classes, 
and 'cause my parent's didn't make a lot of money. 
And cause you desperately needed to sit at the trendy table in the cafeteria.

Sweethearts: Jasmine

Sweethearts by Aleks Horvat
Jasmine

What? Do I seem crazy? I'm not crazy! 
I may talk a lot but I'm not crazy. 
If you met someone really crazy I'm telling you, you'd know. 
The most disturbed person I ever met was my roommate Elizabeth. 
She was a borderline paranoid schizophrenic, 
worst halitosis in the world, bar none-and she was attracted to me-ewwwww. 
Although, she did come from a very wealthy family 
so when they came to take her out to dinner I cashed in my chips on that one. 
Don't look at me like that-YES I spent some time in a hospital. 
So! I'm not crazy. I'm NOT CRAZY! 
Although a lot of people do agree my Mom should have never had children. 
I shan't, I've had my tubes tied.

Pygmalion: Liza

Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw

In the final act of Pygmalion, Liza explains to Prof. Higgins the relationship she desired from him. It’s a tender scene that almost warms the Professor’s heart despite himself.

LIZA: No I don't. That's not the sort of feeling I want from you. And don't you be too sure of yourself or of me. I could have been a bad girl if I'd liked. I've seen more of some things than you, for all your learning. Girls like me can drag gentlemen down to make love to them easy enough. And they wish each other dead the next minute. (much troubled) I want a little kindness. I know I'm a common ignorant girl, and you a book-learned gentleman; but I'm not dirt under your feet. What I done (correcting herself) what I did was not for the dresses and the taxis: I did it because we were pleasant together and I come--came--to care for you; not to want you to make love to me, and not forgetting the difference between us, but more friendly like.

Unfortunately, Higgins is a permanent bachelor. When he is incapable of offering affection, Eliza Doolittle stands up for herself in this powerfully feisty monologue.

LIZA: Aha! Now I know how to deal with you. What a fool I was not to think of it before! You can't take away the knowledge you gave me. You said I had a finer ear than you. And I can be civil and kind to people, which is more than you can. Aha! That's done you, Henry Higgins, it has. Now I don't care that (snapping her fingers) for your bullying and your big talk. I'll advertise it in the papers that your duchess is only a flower girl that you taught, and that she'll teach anybody to be a duchess just the same in six months for a thousand guineas. Oh, when I think of myself crawling under your feet and being trampled on and called names, when all the time I had only to lift up my finger to be as good as you, I could just kick myself!

Oedipus the King: Jocasta

Oedipus the King by Sophocles

JOCASTA:
Why should a mortal man, the sport of chance,
With no assured foreknowledge, be afraid?
Best live a careless life from hand to mouth.
This wedlock with thy mother fear not thou.
How oft it chances that in dreams a man
Has wed his mother! He who least regards
Such brainsick fantasies lives most at ease.

Mrs. Warren's Profession: Mrs. Warren

Mrs. Warren's Profession by George Bernard Shaw

MRS WARREN:
Yes, Heaven forgive me, it's true; 
and you are the only one that ever turned on me. 
Oh, the injustice of it! the injustice! the injustice! 
I always wanted to be a good woman. I tried honest work; 
and I was slave-driven until I cursed the day I ever heard of honest work. 
I was a good mother; and because I made my daughter a good woman
 she turns me out as if I were a leper. 
Oh, if I only had my life to live over again! 
I'd talk to that lying clergyman in the school. 
From this time forth, so help me Heaven in my last hour, 
I'll do wrong and nothing but wrong. And I'll prosper on it.

A Doll's House: Nora

A Doll's House by Henrik Ibsen

Nora:

It is perfectly true, Torvald. When I was at home with papa, he told me his opinion about everything, and so I had the same opinions; and if I differed from him I concealed the fact, because he would not have liked it. He called me his doll-child, and he played with me just as I used to play with my dolls. And when I came to live with you—

I mean that I was simply transferred from papa's hands into yours. You arranged everything according to your own taste, and so I got the same tastes as you--or else I pretended to, I am really not quite sure which--I think sometimes the one and sometimes the other. When I look back on it, it seems to me as if I had been living here like a poor woman--just from hand to mouth. I have existed merely to perform tricks for you, Torvald. But you would have it so. You and papa have committed a great sin against me. It is your fault that I have made nothing of my life.

You neither think nor talk like the man I could bind myself to. As soon as your fear was over--and it was not fear for what threatened me, but for what might happen to you--when the whole thing was past, as far as you were concerned it was exactly as if nothing at all had happened. Exactly as before, I was your little skylark, your doll, which you would in future treat with doubly gentle care, because it was so brittle and fragile. Torvald--it was then it dawned upon me that for eight years I had been living here with a strange man, and had borne him three children--. Oh! I can't bear to think of it! I could tear myself into little bits!

Thanksgiving in the Wilderness: Emily

Thanksgiving in the Wilderness by Kellie PowellEmily is a woman in her twenties who becomes involved in a polyamorous relationship. She is mostly talking to the audience, but sometimes she addresses her friend Rita, who is onstage with her, and sometimes she talks to the man in question.

Emily:

(To Rita.) Contrary to popular opinion, there are not plenty of fish in the sea, and even if there are, none of them are interested in my bait. And I guess that's why, when I saw him again, and he started telling me about how he wasn't ready for a new relationship, and how he actually thinks that dating is pretty stupid... Which, to be fair, is essentially true. It is kind of ridiculous to think that there's one person out there for every other person, and that one person can meet all of your needs, and that anyone could really be satisfied with only one person, for all time --

(To the audience.) There's a rational part of me that does actually agree with him. That thinks that sex is only as complicated as the people who're having it. And that relationships shouldn't have to be a quid-pro-quo transaction: I agree to sleep only with you, so that you sleep only with me. If monogamy came naturally, why would so many married people have affairs? If people could just evolve past jealousy, we would all probably be a lot happier. He's right. Jealousy is irrational. He wanted something casual, and I was a little disappointed... I got my hopes up, which was stupid, and I got let down, which I should have predicted... And how can I really blame him? He was up front with me. He told me exactly what he wanted and exactly what he didn't. I could have said, "No, that's not enough for me. I want a real relationship or nothing." But I didn't say that.

(To Rita.) If I thought I could do better, then none of this would have ever happened. But I don't, and it did. I told myself, I'll just keep hanging out with him, until I meet someone better suited for me, the right person.

(To the audience.) I told myself, "Don't get attached, because this is temporary. Don't be jealous, because he's just not worth it." But I'd lie awake, with him sleeping next to me, and think... 

(To him.) "You're always rushing off - you have all these other friends and other things to do, and other women's beds to jump into... and I wish you had more room for me in your life. I wish you wished you had room for me in your life. I wish you gave a damn. Because, someday, you'll meet someone and you'll feel the thing that you always make fun of when other people feel it, and all your rhetoric about how monogamy is stupid and relationships are bullshit will go completely out the window. And I will never be able to stop wondering: Why wasn't it me? Why couldn't it have been me?"

Henry IV: Lady Hotspur

Henry IV (part 1) by William Shakespeare
Lady Hotspur:
O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I this fortnight been
A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep? 
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
And start so often when thou sit'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;
And given my treasures and my rights of thee
To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? 
In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars;
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd
Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents, 
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain,
And all the currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war 
And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream;
And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath 
On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.

Antony and Cleopatra: Cleopatra

Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare
Act 5 Scene 2

Cleopatra:
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.
[To SELEUCUS]
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.

Antony and Cleopatra: Cleopatra

Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare
Act 5 Scene 2
Cleopatra:

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!

Antony and Cleopatra: Cleopatra

Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare
Act 4 Scene 15
Cleopatra:

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. 

Antony and Cleopatra: Cleopatra

Antony and Cleopatra by William Shakespeare

Act 1 Scene 26

Cleopatra:

O Charmian,

Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he?
Or does he walk? or is he on his horse? 
O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony!
Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou movest?
The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm
And burgonet of men. He's speaking now,
Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?'
For so he calls me: now I feed myself
With most delicious poison. Think on me,
That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black,
And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar,
When thou wast here above the ground, I was 
A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey
Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow;
There would he anchor his aspect and die
With looking on his life.

Spilled Milk: Joan

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.

Dogface: Dogface

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.

DOGFACE: 

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.

Like Dreaming, Backwards: Nell (uncut version)

Like Dreaming, Backwards
By Kellie Powell
Like Dreaming, Backwards is a series of monologues and scenes about the suicide of a young college student named Nell. The play also includes monologues from Nell's mother, Leah, a acquaintance, Yale, and her friend, Natalie. For further information and advice on performing this monologue, read this note from the playwright.

NELL:

Have you ever had a dream and suddenly, you realize what's happening doesn't make any sense - and you realize that you're dreaming? And you realize: if you know that you're dreaming, then you can control what's going to happen next? When I have an episode, it's exactly like that - only backwards.

The first time I tried to kill myself, I was ten. When I woke up the next morning, I was relieved. I was happy that I hadn't succeeded. I didn't tell anyone. And for a while, I was happy to be alive. But then, a year later, I tried again. I've lost count of how many times I've tried and failed. I tried to poison myself, overdose on sleeping pills, hang myself, drown myself, suffocate myself, and throw myself into traffic. Now, when I wake up after taking every sleeping pill in arm's reach and washing it down with a bottle of wine, I'm never, ever relieved. I feel trapped. I feel desperate. I feel like even more of a failure. And I have even wondered if the reason that I can't kill myself is because I'm already dead and in Hell. This is a living Hell. They say suicide is "taking the easy way out". Let me tell you: It's not that fucking easy. Your physical drive to live undermines your mind's desire to die. Your instincts to breathe are hard to overcome. You can't bear another second of misery - but your heart just refuses to stop beating. It has some nerve.

It's hard to tell the people I love that I want to die. So I spend a lot of my time and energy pretending to be normal. When I ended up in the hospital, it was almost a relief. Because I didn't have to act for anyone, anymore. I just cried all day. And no one took it personally. No one wanted to blame themselves. I could cry, and it didn't hurt anyone's feeling. The honesty was refreshing.

But then, I started to look at the other patients around me. I was surrounded by people who had been miserable their entire lives. There was an eighty-year-old woman there, who had been in and out of psych wards since she was my age. She stared into space all day, crying. And every day, she would look at me, and ask, "Why won't they just let me die?" And I didn't have an answer. And I realized: That was my future. I understood with perfect clarity that I was never going to get better. No therapy can help me. No medication can fix me. I can make everyone think I'm normal, that I'm coping, that I'm okay. But I've never been okay. I'll never be okay. I will always be one bad day away from killing myself. Until I'm dead. I spend my life trying to delay what I know is inevitable. And any day could be my last.

Here's the uncut version! I found it! As you can see, the uncut version is a lot longer, so it wasn't very good for audition use.

Like Dreaming, Backwards: Nell (cut version)

Like Dreaming, Backwards by Kellie Powell (cut version)

Like Dreaming, Backwards is a series of monologues and scenes about the suicide of a young college student named Nell. The play also includes monologues from Nell's mother, Leah, a acquaintance, Yale, and her friend, Natalie. For further information and advice on performing this monologue, read this note from the playwright

(cut version)

NELL:

The first time I tried to kill myself, I was ten. 

When I woke up the next morning, I was relieved. 

But then I tried again. 

I've lost count of how many times I've tried and failed. 

Now, when I wake up after taking every sleeping pill in arm's reach, 

I'm never, ever relieved. I feel trapped. 

I feel desperate. I feel like even more of a failure. 

They say suicide is "taking the easy way out". 

Let me tell you: It's not that fucking easy. 

You can't bear another second of misery - 

but your heart just refuses to stop beating.

I understand with perfect clarity that I am never going to get better. 

No therapy can help me. No medication can fix me. 

I can make everyone think I'm normal, that I'm coping, that I'm okay.

But I've never been okay. I'll never be okay.

I apologise for not posting last week! And I apologise for not being able to find the uncut version of this monologue. This is the cut version that I used to audition for UVU's production of Next to Normal.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Bottom

A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
Act 5 Scene 2

Bottom:
Sweet Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright;
For, by thy gracious, golden, glittering gleams,
I trust to take of truest Thisby sight.
But stay, O spite!
But mark, poor knight,
What dreadful dole is here!
Eyes, do you see?
How can it be?
O dainty duck! O dear!
Thy mantle good,
What, stain'd with blood!
Approach, ye Furies fell!
O Fates, come, come,
Cut thread and thrum;
Quail, crush, conclude, and quell!

Theseus. This passion, and the death of a dear friend, would go near to make a man look sad.

Hippolyta. Beshrew my heart, but I pity the man.

Bottom. O wherefore, Nature, didst thou lions frame?
Since lion vile hath here deflower'd my dear:
Which is--no, no--which was the fairest dame
That lived, that loved, that liked, that look'd with cheer.
Come, tears, confound;
Out, sword, and wound
The pap of Pyramus;
Ay, that left pap,
Where heart doth hop:
[Stabs himself]
Thus die I, thus, thus, thus.
Now am I dead,
Now am I fled;
My soul is in the sky:
Tongue, lose thy light;
Moon take thy flight:
[Exit Moonshine]
Now die, die, die, die, die.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Bottom

 A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
Act 4 Scene 1

Bottom:
When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer: 
my next is, 'Most fair Pyramus.' 
Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! 
Flute, the bellows-mender! 
Snout, the tinker! Starveling! 
God's my life, stolen hence, and left me asleep! 
I have had a most rare vision. 
I have had a dream, past the wit of man 
to say what dream it was: man is but an ass, 
if he go about to expound this dream. 
Methought I was--there is no man can tell what. 
And methought I had--but man is but a patched fool, 
if he will offer to say what methought I had. 
The eye of man hath not heard,
the ear of man hath not seen, 
man's hand is not able to taste,
his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, 
what my dream was. 
I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: 
it shall be called Bottom's Dream,
because it hath no bottom; 
and I will sing it in the latter end of a play, before the duke: 
peradventure, to make it the more gracious, 
I shall sing it at her death.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Hermia

 A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
Act 3 Scene 2

Hermia:
Now I but chide; but I should use thee worse,
If thou hast slain Lysander in his sleep,
Being o'er shoes in blood, plunge in the deep,
And kill me too.
The sun was not so true unto the day
As he to me: would he have stolen away
From sleeping Hermia? I'll believe as soon
This whole earth may be bored and that the moon
May through the centre creep and so displease
Her brother's noontide with Antipodes.
It cannot be but thou hast murder'd him;
So should a murderer look, so dead, so grim.

Demetrius. So should the murder'd look, and so should I,
Pierced through the heart with your stern cruelty:
Yet you, the murderer, look as bright, as clear,
As yonder Venus in her glimmering sphere.


Hermia. What's this to my Lysander? where is he?
Ah, good Demetrius, wilt thou give him me?

Demetrius. I had rather give his carcass to my hounds.

Hermia. Out, dog! out, cur! thou drivest me past the bounds
Of maiden's patience. Hast thou slain him, then?
Henceforth be never number'd among men!
O, once tell true, tell true, even for my sake!
Durst thou have look'd upon him being awake,
And hast thou kill'd him sleeping? O brave touch!
Could not a worm, an adder, do so much?
An adder did it; for with doubler tongue
Than thine, thou serpent, never adder stung.

I left Demetrius' lines in to help you with this monologue, you obviously shouldn't say them...

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Puck

A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
Act 3 Scene 2

Puck:
My mistress with a monster is in love.
Near to her close and consecrated bower,
While she was in her dull and sleeping hour,
A crew of patches, rude mechanicals,
That work for bread upon Athenian stalls,
Were met together to rehearse a play
Intended for great Theseus' nuptial-day.
The shallowest thick-skin of that barren sort,
Who Pyramus presented, in their sport
Forsook his scene and enter'd in a brake
When I did him at this advantage take,
An ass's nole I fixed on his head:
Anon his Thisbe must be answered,
And forth my mimic comes. When they him spy,
As wild geese that the creeping fowler eye,
Or russet-pated choughs, many in sort,
Rising and cawing at the gun's report,
Sever themselves and madly sweep the sky,
So, at his sight, away his fellows fly;
And, at our stamp, here o'er and o'er one falls;
He murder cries and help from Athens calls.
Their sense thus weak, lost with their fears thus strong,
Made senseless things begin to do them wrong;
For briers and thorns at their apparel snatch;
Some sleeves, some hats, from yielders all things catch.
I led them on in this distracted fear,
And left sweet Pyramus translated there:
When in that moment, so it came to pass,
Titania waked and straightway loved an ass.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Titania

A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
Act 2 Scene 1

Titania:
These are the forgeries of jealousy:
And never, since the middle summer's spring,
Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,
By paved fountain or by rushy brook,
Or in the beached margent of the sea,
To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind,
But with thy brawls thou hast disturb'd our sport.
Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain,
As in revenge, have suck'd up from the sea
Contagious fogs; which falling in the land
Have every pelting river made so proud
That they have overborne their continents:
The ox hath therefore stretch'd his yoke in vain,
The ploughman lost his sweat, and the green corn
Hath rotted ere his youth attain'd a beard;
The fold stands empty in the drowned field,
And crows are fatted with the murrion flock;
The nine men's morris is fill'd up with mud,
And the quaint mazes in the wanton green
For lack of tread are undistinguishable:
The human mortals want their winter here;
No night is now with hymn or carol blest:
Therefore the moon, the governess of floods,
Pale in her anger, washes all the air,
That rheumatic diseases do abound:
And thorough this distemperature we see
The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts
Far in the fresh lap of the crimson rose,
And on old Hiems' thin and icy crown
An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds
Is, as in mockery, set: the spring, the summer,
The childing autumn, angry winter, change
Their wonted liveries, and the mazed world,
By their increase, now knows not which is which:
And this same progeny of evils comes
From our debate, from our dissension;
We are their parents and original.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Hermia

A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
Act 2 Scene 2

Hermia:
Help me, Lysander, help me! do thy best
To pluck this crawling serpent from my breast!
Ay me, for pity! what a dream was here!
Lysander, look how I do quake with fear:
Methought a serpent eat my heart away,
And you sat smiling at his cruel pray.
Lysander! what, removed? Lysander! lord!
What, out of hearing? gone? no sound, no word?
Alack, where are you speak, an if you hear;
Speak, of all loves! I swoon almost with fear.
No? then I well perceive you all not nigh
Either death or you I'll find immediately.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Helena

A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare 
Act 2 Scene 2

Helena:
O, I am out of breath in this fond chase!
The more my prayer, the lesser is my grace.
Happy is Hermia, wheresoe'er she lies;
For she hath blessed and attractive eyes.
How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears:
If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers.
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
For beasts that meet me run away for fear:
Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
Do, as a monster fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?
But who is here? Lysander! on the ground!
Dead? or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.
Lysander if you live, good sir, awake.

Antigone: Antigone and Ismene (Scene)

[ANTIGONE and ISMENE before the Palace gates. Antigone and Ismene are sisters, and their brothers, Eteocles and Polyneices, were supposed to be joint rulers of Thebes, ruling alternately. Eteocles ruled first, but when his year was up he refused to relinquish the throne to Polyneices. Polyneices, who had married the daughter of the king of Argos, led the Argives and six other cities in an assault on Thebes. Thebes drove off the attackers, but in the course of the battle the two brothers killed each other. Their uncle Creon assumed the throne and decreed that Eteocles was to be buried with honors but his brother Polyneices was to be left unburied, to rot in the sun and be eaten by scavengers. Without the burial rites being performed on him, Polyneices' spirit could not enter the spirit world. In this scene, the two sisters are meeting outside the gates of the city to discuss what to do about the situation. Antigone decides that Polyneicecs must be buried, no matter what the cost. Ismene supports her by word but cannot support her by action for fear of the law.]

ANTIGONE
Ismene, sister of my blood and heart,
See'st thou how Zeus would in our lives fulfill
The weird of Oedipus, a world of woes!
For what of pain, affliction, outrage, shame,
Is lacking in our fortunes, thine and mine?
And now this proclamation of today
Made by our Captain-General to the State,
What can its purport be? Didst hear and heed,
Or art thou deaf when friends are banned as foes?

ISMENE
To me, Antigone, no word of friends
Has come, or glad or grievous, since we twain
Were reft of our two brethren in one day
By double fratricide; and since i' the night
Our Argive leaguers fled, no later news
Has reached me, to inspirit or deject.

ANTIGONE
I know 'twas so, and therefore summoned thee
Beyond the gates to breathe it in thine ear.

ISMENE
What is it? Some dark secret stirs thy breast.

ANTIGONE
What but the thought of our two brothers dead,
The one by Creon graced with funeral rites,
The other disappointed? Eteocles
He hath consigned to earth (as fame reports)
With obsequies that use and wont ordain,
So gracing him among the dead below.
But Polyneices, a dishonored corse,
(So by report the royal edict runs)
No man may bury him or make lament--
Must leave him tombless and unwept, a feast
For kites to scent afar and swoop upon.
Such is the edict (if report speak true)
Of Creon, our most noble Creon, aimed
At thee and me, aye me too; and anon
He will be here to promulgate, for such
As have not heard, his mandate; 'tis in sooth
No passing humor, for the edict says
Whoe'er transgresses shall be stoned to death.
So stands it with us; now 'tis thine to show
If thou art worthy of thy blood or base.

ISMENE
But how, my rash, fond sister, in such case
Can I do anything to make or mar?

ANTIGONE
Say, wilt thou aid me and abet? Decide.

ISMENE
In what bold venture? What is in thy thought?

ANTIGONE
Lend me a hand to bear the corpse away.

ISMENE
What, bury him despite the interdict?

ANTIGONE
My brother, and, though thou deny him, thine
No man shall say that I betrayed a brother.

ISMENE
Wilt thou persist, though Creon has forbid?

ANTIGONE
What right has he to keep me from my own?

ISMENE
Bethink thee, sister, of our father's fate,
Abhorred, dishonored, self-convinced of sin,
Blinded, himself his executioner.
Think of his mother-wife (ill sorted names)
Done by a noose herself had twined to death
And last, our hapless brethren in one day,
Both in a mutual destiny involved,
Self-slaughtered, both the slayer and the slain.
Bethink thee, sister, we are left alone;
Shall we not perish wretchedest of all,
If in defiance of the law we cross
A monarch's will?--weak women, think of that,
 Not framed by nature to contend with men.
Remember this too that the stronger rules;
We must obey his orders, these or worse.
Therefore I plead compulsion and entreat
The dead to pardon. I perforce obey
The powers that be. 'Tis foolishness, I ween,
To overstep in aught the golden mean.

ANTIGONE
I urge no more; nay, wert thou willing still,
I would not welcome such a fellowship.
Go thine own way; myself will bury him.
How sweet to die in such employ, to rest,--
Sister and brother linked in love's embrace--
A sinless sinner, banned awhile on earth,
But by the dead commended; and with them
I shall abide for ever. As for thee,
Scorn, if thou wilt, the eternal laws of Heaven.

ISMENE
I scorn them not, but to defy the State
Or break her ordinance I have no skill.

ANTIGONE
A specious pretext. I will go alone
To lap my dearest brother in the grave.

ISMENE
My poor, fond sister, how I fear for thee!

ANTIGONE
O waste no fears on me; look to thyself.

ISMENE
At least let no man know of thine intent,
But keep it close and secret, as will I.

ANTIGONE
O tell it, sister; I shall hate thee more
If thou proclaim it not to all the town.

ISMENE
Thou hast a fiery soul for numbing work.

ANTIGONE
I pleasure those whom I would liefest please.

ISMENE
If thou succeed; but thou art doomed to fail.

ANTIGONE
When strength shall fail me, yes, but not before.

ISMENE
But, if the venture's hopeless, why essay?

ANTIGONE
Sister, forbear, or I shall hate thee soon,
And the dead man will hate thee too, with cause.
Say I am mad and give my madness rein
To wreck itself; the worst that can befall
Is but to die an honorable death.

ISMENE
Have thine own way then; 'tis a mad endeavor,
Yet to thy lovers thou art dear as ever. [Exeunt]

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Puck

A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare
Act 2 Scene 2

Puck:
Through the forest have I gone.
But Athenian found I none,
On whose eyes I might approve
This flower's force in stirring love.
Night and silence...Who is here?
Weeds of Athens he doth wear:
This is he, my master said,
Despised the Athenian maid;
And here the maiden, sleeping sound,
On the dank and dirty ground.
Pretty soul! she durst not lie
Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
Churl, upon thy eyes I throw
All the power this charm doth owe.
When thou wakest, let love forbid
Sleep his seat on thy eyelid:
So awake when I am gone;
For I must now to Oberon. 

Okay, let me explain the tags on this monologue, since they're potentially confusing. I've seen Puck played by a woman and by a man, and I've seen this monologue done in a comedic style as well as a dramatic style. It all just depends on how you play it.

A Midsummer Night's Dream: Helena

A Midsummer Night's Dream by William Shakespeare

Helena has just discovered that her friends Hermia and Lysander are going to elope. She reflects on the state of her love towards Demetrius, who shuns her.

Helena:
How happy some o'er other some can be!
Through Athens, I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so.
He will not know what all but he do know.
And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath Love's mind of any judgement taste.
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste.
And therefore is Love said to be a child,
Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.
As waggish boys in game themselves forswear,
So the boy, Love, is perjured everywhere.
For ere Demetrius looked on Hermia's eyne
He hailed down oaths that he was only mine.
And when that hail some heat from Hermia felt
So he dissolved, and show'rs of oaths did melt.
I will go tell him of fair Hermia's flight,
Then to the wood will he tomorrow night
Pursue her. And for this intelligence, if I have thanks,
It is a dear expense. But herein mean I to enrich my pain
To have his sight thither and back again.

Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mamma's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' so Sad: Madame Rosepettle

Oh Dad, Poor Dad, Mamma's Hung You in the Closet and I'm Feelin' so Sad by Arthur Kopit

[Madame Rosepettle has brought the Commodore (Mr. Roseabove) to her "lavish hotel suite somewhere in the Caribbean". When she talks about her husband, she means the stuffed corpse of her husband that she keeps in the closet. Keep in mind that this is an absurdist play, it'll help. Also, I wouldn't use this as an audition piece, but I'm including it on here in case someone finds a use for it.]

Madame Rosepettle:
Now you don't really want to leave-do you, Commodore? After all, the night is still so young-and you haven't even seen my husband yet. Besides, there's a little story I still must tell you. A bedtime story. A fairy-tale fullof handsome princes and enchanted maidens; full of love and joy and music; tenderness and charm. It's my very favortie story, you see. And I never leave a place without telling it to at least one perso. So please, Commodore, won't you stay? ...Just for a little while? [He stares at her in horror. He tries once more to push his chair back. But the chair does not more. He sinks down into it weakly. She leans across the table and tenderly touches his hand.] Good. I knew you'd see it my way. It would have been such a shame if you'd had to leave. For you see, Commodore, we are, in a way, united. We share something in common-you and I. We share desire. For you desire me, with love in your heart. While I, my dear Commodore-desire your heart. [She smiles sweetly and sips some more champagne.] How simple it all is, in the end. [She rises slowly from her chair and walks over to him. She runs her hands lovingly through his hai and down the back of his neck. The light on hte table dims slightly. She walks slowly away. A spot of light follows her as she goes. Light on the table fades more. The COMMODORE sits, motionless.] His name was Albers Edward Robinson Rosepettle III. How strange and sad he was. All the others who had come to see me had been tall, but he was short. They had been rich, while he was poor. The others had been handsome but Albert, poor Albert, he was as ugly as a humid day-[She laughs sadly, distantly.] and jsut about as wet, too. Oh, he was a fat bundle of sweat, Mr. Roseabove. He was nothing but one torrent of perspiration. Yes, he was round and wet and hideous and I never could figure out how he ever got such a name as Albert Edward Robinson Rosepettle III. Oh, I must have been very susceptible indeed to have married Albert. I was twenty-eight and that is a susceptible year in a woman's life. And of course I was a virgin, but still I-Oh, stop blushing, Mr. Roseabove. I'm not lying. It's all true. Part of the cause of my condition, I will admit, was due to the fact that I still hadn't gone out with a man. But I am certain, Mr. Roseabove, I am certain that despite your naughty glances my virtue would have remained unsoiled, no matter what. Oh, I had spoken to men. (Their voices are gruff.) And in crowded streets I had often brushed against them. (Their bodies, I found, are tough and bony.) I had observed their ways and habits, Mr. Roseabove. Even at that tender age I had the foresight to realize I must know what I was up against.So I watched them huddle in hallways, talking in nervous whispers and laughing when little girls passed by. I watched their hands in crowded streets. And then, one night, when I was walking home I saw a man standing in a window. I saw him taking his contact lenses out and his hearing aid out of his ear. I saw him take his teeth out of his thin-lipped mouth and drop them into a smiling glass of water. I saw him lift his snow white hair off his wrinkled, white head and place it on a gnarled, wooden hat tree. And then I saw him take his clothes off. And when he was done and didn't move but stood and stared at a full legnth mirror whose glass he had covered with towels, then I went home and wept. And so one day I bolted the door to my room. I locked myself inside, bought a small revolver just in case, then sat at my window and watched what went on below. It was not a pretty sight. Some men came up to see me. They came and knocked. I did not let them in.
"Hello in there," they said.
"Hello in there,
My name is Steven. 
Steven S. (for Steven) Steven.
One is odd
But two is even.
I know you're not 
So I'm not leavin'."
Or something like that. [short pause] But they all soon left anyway. I think they caught the scent of a younger woman down the hall.... And so I listened to the constant sound of feet disappearing down the stairs. I watched a world walk by my window; a wold of lechery and lies and greed. I watched a world walk by and I decided not to leave my room until this world came to me, exactly as I wanted it. One day Albert came toddling up the stairs. He waddled over to my room, scratched on the door and said, in a frail and very frightened voice, "Will you please marry me?" And so I did. It was as simple as that. [Pause. Then distantly] I still wonder why I did it, though. I still wonder why. [Short pause. Then, with a laugh of resignation.] I don't really know why. I guess it just seemed like the right thing to do. Maybe it's because he was the first one who ever asked me. No, that's not right. -Perhaps it's because he was so ugly and fat; so unlike everything I'd ever heard a husband should be. No, that doesn't make much sense, either.-Perhaps it's-yet, perhaps it's because one look at Albert's round, sad face and I knew he could be mine--that no matter where he went, or whom he saw, or what he did, Albert would be mine, my husband, my lover, my own--mine to love; to live with:--mine to kill. [Short pause] And so we were wed. That night I went to bed with a man for the first time in my life. The next morning I picked up my mattress and moved myself to another room. Not that there was something wrong with Albert. Oh, no! He was quite the picture of health. His pudgy, pink flesh bouncing with glee. Oh, how easily man is satisfied. How easily his porous body saturated with "fun". All he asks is a little sex and a little food and there he is, asleep with a smile, and snoring. Never the slightest regard for you, lying in bed next to him, your eyes open wide. No, he stretches his legs and kicks you in the shins; stretches his arms and smacks you in the eye. Oh, how noble, how magical, how marvelous is love. So you see, Mr. Roseabove, I had to leave his room. For as long as I stayed there I was not safe. After all, we'd only met the day before and I knew far too little about him. But now that we were married I had time to find out more. A few of the things I wanted to know were" what had he done before we'd ever met, what did he still want to do. what was he doing about it? What did he dream about when he slept? What did he think about when he stared out the window?... What did he think about when I wasn't near? These were the things that concerned me most. And so I began to watch him closely. My plan worked best at night, for that was when he slept-I would listen at my door until I heard his door close. Then I'd tiptoe out and watch him through his keyhole. When his lights went out I'd open up his door and creep across the floor to his bed, and then I'd listen more. My ear became a stethoscope that recorded the fluctuations of his dream life. For I was waiting for him to speak; waiting for the slightest word that might betray his sleeping, secret thoughts.... But, no, Albert only snored and smiled and slept on and on. And that, Mr. Roseabove, is how I spent my nights!-- next to him; my husband, my "Love". I never left his side, never took my eyes from his sleeping face. I dare you to find me a wife wh's as devoted as that. [She laughs. Short pause.] A month later I found that I was pregnant. It had happened that first horrible night. How like Albert to do something like that. I fancy he knew it was going to happen all the time, too. I do believe he planned it that way. One night, one shot, one chance in a lifetime and bham! you've had it. It takes an imaginative man to miss. It takes someone like Albert to do something like that. But yet, I never let on. Oh, no. Let him think I'm simply getting fat, I said. And that's the way I did it, too. I, nonchalantly putting on weight; Albert nonchalantly watching my belly grow. If he know what was happening to me he never let me know it. He was as silent as before. [Pause.] Twelve months later my son was born. He was so overdue, when he came out he was already teething. He bit the index finger off the poor doctor's hand and snapped at the nurse till she fainted. I took him home and put him in a cage in the darkest corner of my room.

The Philadelphia Story:Dinah Lord

The Philadelphia Story
Dinah Lord:
Tray, I hate you to get married and go away. You know, I did have the funniest dream about you last night. It was all certainly pretty rooty-tooty. My dream. I dreamed I got up and went over to the window. Guess what I dreamed I saw coming over out of the woods. It was Mr. Conner. Yes, with his arms full of something, and guess what it turned out to be. You, and some clothes. Wasn't it funny? It was sort of like as if you were coming from the pool. After a while, I opened my door... And there he was in the hall, still coming along with you... Puffing like a steam engine. His wind can't be very good. You were sort of crooning. I'm only saying what it sounded like. And then he-- Guess what. He sailed right into your room with you, and that scared me... So I got up and went to your door... And peeked in to make sure you were all right. And guess what. You were. He was gone by then. Of course he was gone. I know, Tracy. I'm certainly glad I do. Because if I didn't, and in a little while I heard the minister say... "If anyone knows any just cause or reason why these two should not be united in holy matrimony--" I just wouldn't know what to do.

An Ideal Husband: Mabel Chiltern

An Ideal Husband by Oscar Wilde
Mabel Chiltern:
Well, Tommy has proposed to me again. Tommy really does nothing but propose to me. He proposed to me last night in the music-room, when I was quite unprotected, as there was an elaborate trio going on. I didn't dare to make the smallest repartee, I need hardly tell you. If I had, it would have stopped the music at once. Musical people are so absurdly unreasonable. They always want on to be perfectly dumb at the very moment when one is longing to be absolutely deaf. Then he proposed to me in broad daylight this morning, in front of that dreadful statue of Achilles. Really, the things that go on in front of that work of art are quite appalling. The police should interfere. At luncheon I saw by the glare in his eyes that he was going to propose again, and I just managed to check him in time by assuring him that I was a bimetallist. Fortunately I don't know what bimetallism means. And I don't believe anybody else does either. But the observation crushed Tommy for ten minutes. He looked quite shocked. And then Tommy is so annoying in the way he proposes. If he proposed at the top of his voice, I should not mind so much. That might produce some effect on the public. But he does it in a horrid confidential way. When Tommy wants to be romantic he talks to one just like a doctor. I am very fond of Tommy, but his methods of proposing are quite out of date. I wish, Gertrude, you would speak to him, and tell him that once a week is quite often enough to propose to anyone, and that it should always be done in a matter that attracts some attention.