Shirley Valentine, Willy Russell (COMEDY)

SHIRLEY VALENTINE

Im not even particularly fond of it sex. Im not. Course it wouldve been different if Id been born in
to the next generation. Cos its different for them isnt it? They discovered it, ysee, the clitoris. The
Clitoris Kids I call them. And good luck to them, I dont begrudge them anythin. But when I was a girl
wed never heard of this clitoris. Ysee, the clitoris hadnt been discovered then, had it? I mean,
obviously, it was always there, like penicillin, an America. It was there, but its not really there until
its been discovered, is it? Maybe I should have married Christopher Columbus!

I was about twenty-eight when I first read all about it, the clitoris. It was dead interestin. I was
fascinated. But yknow when you read a word for the first time an youve never heard it spoken, you
can get it wrong cant y? Yknow pronounce it wrong. When I first read the word I thought it was
pronounced clitORis. I still think it sound nicer that way actually. ClitORis. That even sounds like it
could be a name doesnt it? ClitORis. Oh shut up, I think it sounds nice. Why not? Theres plenty of
men walkin around called Dick.
Spike Heels, Theresa Rebeck (COMEDY)

GEORGIE

Yeah, right, he gave me the damn job. I fucking work my ass off for that jerk; he doesnt give me
shit. I earn it, you know? He gave me the job. I just love that. What does that mean, that I should
be working at McDonalds or something, thats what I really deserve or something? Bullshit. Fuck
you, that is such fucking bullshit. You think I dont know how to behave in public or something?

Jesus, I was a goddamn waitress for seven years, the customers fucking loved me. You think I talk like
this in front of strangers; you think I dont have a brain in my head or something? That is so fucking
condescending. Anytime I lose my temper, Im crazy, is that it? You dont know why I threw that
pencil, you just assume. You just make these assumptions. Well, fuck you, Andrew. I mean it. Fuck
you.

I mean, I just love that. You dont even know. Youve never seen me in that office. You think Im like,
incapable of acting like somebody Im not? For four months Ive been scared to death but I do it, you
know. I take messages, I call the court, I write his damn letters. I watch my mouth, I dress like this
whatever this is; these are the ugliest clothes I have ever seen I am gracious, I am bright, I am
promising. I am being this other person for them because I do want this job but there is a point
beyond which I will not be fucked with! So you finally push me beyond that point, and I throw the
pencil and now youre going to tell me that that is my problem? What, do you guys think you hold all
the cards or something? You think you have the last word on reality? You do, you think that anything
you do to me is okay, and anything I do is fucked because Im not using the right words. Im, like,
throwing pencils and saying fuck you, Im speaking another language, thats my problem. And the
thing is I am America. You know? You guys are not America. You think you are; Jesus Christ, you
guys think you own the world. I mean, who made up these rules, Andrew? And do you actually think
were buying it?
Women of Manhattan, John Patrick Shanley (COMEDY)

BILLIE

Bob hit me because I wet the bed. Oh, I dont feel humiliated. It came out of an atmosphere. You
know, like lighting. Theres this long tense sameness in the air. And it just gets more so and more so.
Till zap. This big white bolt across the sky.

Theres a thing that can happen in marriage. Its a kind of incredibly boring endless Mexican standoff
over some idiot shit. Youre in your trench and hes in his. Years can go by. Nothing changes. It just
gets more and more deeply the same. I cant tell you how profoundly this kind of existence bites the
big one. Anyway, last night, I was thinking. I was thinking, If I could just let go. If I could just
completely let go, what would I look like? Would Bob find me attractive? And while I was thinking
this, I came to realize that I was just flooding the bed! I mean, Cats and Dogs. I thought I was
dreaming. I saw Bobs face over me, like a big stormcloud. I got very cold. Like Bob was blocking the
sun or something, even though it was the middle of the night. I felt very small, like I was shrinking
down into a dot. He grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me up. He said, Listen! I dont give a
fuck what you do! You can lie down and die for what I care! But Nobody, Nobody pisses in my bed!
And then he punched me right in the eye. I saw stars, just like youre supposed to. And through the
stars, I could hear him crying.

Look, my father didnt hit my mother, and Ive never shown any particular hunger for getting hit. I
dont think Im in line to become a battered wife. Whats a battered wife, anyway? I mean, you see
me, and my husband hit me, so Im a battered wife? Please. Save that deep thought for a TV movie. I
thought that my marriage was dead, or I was dead, or both. Now, somehow, Ive got em back again,
and me, in my personal heart of hearts, I dont give a shit to judge the means good or bad. I just want
to understand. Its funny. Here I am, closer to my husband than Ive been in a long long time. But I
feel free. I feel like I can do anything I want.
After the End, Dennis Kelly (DRAMATIC)

LOUISE

I think a lot about what makes people do things. What makes us behave in certain ways, you know.
Every night I been thinking about this. Trapped in whatever, behaviour, cycles of violence or
something and is it possible to break, these cycles, is it possible to break And Id be sitting there
thinking about this and this cat, this gorgeous cat with no tail would come to my door, Id have the
back door open because the garden looks, and shed be terrified at first, it looks beautiful it really
does. So I bought some food for her and the first time she just sniffed at it and ran away, the moment
I moved, you know, no sign of her for the rest of the night, and Im thinking reactions and responses,
patterns, violence breeding violence, and the next night shes in a bit further and Im looking at her
tail thinking thats been cut off and I dont think it was, I think shes a Manx, I think theyre born
without tails, and the next night shes further in and Im beginning to look forward to it. And the next
night shes in and shes eating and from then on shes in every night; shes on my lap, shes following
me around, shes waiting on the window ledge for me when I get home. And we sit there every night
and Im thinking behaviour and patterns or whatever and shes eating and meowing to be let in.
Every night. And one night she scratches me, out of the blue, cats, you know, just a vindictive cat-
scratch, look: see? Just here.

She knew shed done wrong.

Took her three night to get back into my lap. And Im stroking her and thinking. Warm, delicate, you
know. And I put my hands around her neck. And I squeeze. And I squeeze. Until her neck is about the
thickness of a rope. And still I squeeze. And Im sitting there - and this is last night - with this dead cat
in my lap. And I thought Id come in and see you.

And here I am.

The Rorschach Play, Kelly Younger (DRAMATIC)

AIMEE

You know what really makes me mad besides the fact that I hate myself for once again putting myself
in this position is that I was all determined to wake up this morning, share a good, buttery piece of
wheat toast and a strong cup of coffee, look you in the eyes, cutting through all the embarrassment
which, until now, I thought wouldnt really be there because so far this was the best just-happened-
to-meet-and-really-hit-it-off kind of night, and tell you I completely understand that this just is what
it is. That I dont have any expectations. I dont want us to get married. I dont want us to have
babies. Im not moving to Portland and youre not going to move to New York. And that I had a lovely
time. A really, really lovely twenty-four hours. And Im not even the kind of person who uses the
word lovely. But thats what this is. Or was. And I was going to wish you the best, and tell you that
even if your stupid dissertation committee thinks youre a fool, I dont, and that you should go back
to Portland knowing that one person did hear you, that one person did believe you, and that should
be enough. And most important, I wanted you to know that this was not a revenge screw, but a
wonderful night with the best, nicest, weepiest guy Ive ever met. And I loved every minute.
Night Mother, Marsha Norman (DRAMATIC)

JESSIE

I found an old baby picture of me. And it was somebody else, not me. I was somebody pink and fat
who never heard of sick or lonely, somebody who cried and got fed, and reached up and got held
and kicked but didnt hurt anybody, and slept whenever she wanted to, just by closing her eyes.
Thats who I started out with and this is who is left. Thats what this is all about. Its somebody I lost,
all right, its my own self. Who I never was. Or who I tried to be and never got there. Somebody I
waited for who never came. And never will. So, see, it doesnt much matter what else happens in the
world or in this house, even. Im what was worth waiting for and I didnt make it. Me who might
have made a difference to me Im not going to show up, so theres no reason to stay, except to keep
you company, and thats not reason enough because Im not very good company. Am I.

Now, somebodys bound to ask you why I did it and you just say you dont know. That you loved me
and you know I loved you and we just sat around like every other night of our lives and then I came
over and kissed you and said, Night, Mother, and you heard me close my bedroom door and the
next thing you heard was the shot. And whatever reasons I had, well you guess I just took them with
me.

The rest of this is for you. Those are just little presents. For whenever you need one. Theyre not
bought presents, just things I thought you might like to look at, pictures, or things you think youve
lost. Things you didnt know you had, even.

Its time for me to go, Mama. Let me go, Mama. Let go of me, Mama. Ive said everything I had to say.
Dont try and stop me, Mama, you cant do it. Night, Mother.
Othello, William Shakespeare (CLASSICAL/DRAMATIC)

EMILIA

But I do think it is their husbands' faults

If wives do fall: say that they slack their duties,

And pour our treasures into foreign laps,

Or else break out in peevish jealousies,

Throwing restraint upon us; or say they strike us,

Or scant our former having in despite;

Why, we have galls, and though we have some grace,

Yet have we some revenge. Let husbands know

Their wives have sense like them: they see and smell

And have their palates both for sweet and sour,

As husbands have. What is it that they do

When they change us for others? Is it sport?

I think it is: and doth affection breed it?

I think it doth: is't frailty that thus errs?

It is so too: and have not we affections,

Desires for sport, and frailty, as men have?

Then let them use us well: else let them know,

The ills we do, their ills instruct us so.

Measure for Measure, William Shakespeare (DRAMATIC)

ISABELLA

To whom should I complain? Did I tell this,

Who would believe me? O perilous mouths,

That bear in them one and the self-same tongue,

Either of condemnation or approof;

Bidding the law make court'sy to their will:

Hooking both right and wrong to the appetite,

To follow as it draws! I'll 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 down

On twenty bloody blocks, he'ld yield them up,

Before his sister should her body stoop

To such abhorr'd pollution.

Then, Isabel, live chaste, and, brother, die:

More than our brother is our chastity.

I'll tell him yet of Angelo's request,

And fit his mind to death, for his soul's rest.

A Midsummer Nights Dream, William Shakespeare (COMEDY)

HERMIA

Puppet? why so? ay, that way goes the game.

Now I perceive that she hath made compare

Between our statures; she hath urged her height;

And with her personage, her tall personage,

Her height, forsooth, she hath prevail'd with him.

And are you grown so high in his esteem;

Because I am so dwarfish and so low?

How low am I, thou painted maypole? speak;

How low am I? I am not yet so low

But that my nails can reach unto thine eyes.

Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare (COMEDY)

OLIVIA

'What is your parentage?'

'Above my fortunes, yet my state is well:

I am a gentleman.' I'll be sworn thou art;

Thy tongue, thy face, thy limbs, actions and spirit,

Do give thee five-fold blazon: not too fast:

soft, soft!

Unless the master were the man. How now!

Even so quickly may one catch the plague?

Methinks I feel this youth's perfections

With an invisible and subtle stealth

To creep in at mine eyes. Well, let it be.