FEMALE MONOLOGUES
WISHING
by D. M. Larson
PENNY
Have you ever made a wish? I make them all the time. I watch for the first star each night...
"Star light star bright, first star I see tonight... I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I
wish tonight..." I always make the same wish, but I can't tell what it is. Then it might not
come true. I really want it to. It would change my life.
I go to wishing wells with lucky pennies... Those pennies you find that people have lost...
Unlucky for them... Lucky for me... Then I toss them in the wishing well in front of the old
museum.
And I toss them in the fountain at the mall... Each time making my wish.
Have you ever wanted anything that badly in your life? So badly that you can't imagine your
future without it?
I would be so sad if my life wasn't different... If things didn't change... If I was still stuck
here... In this life. But I won't stop wishing... I can't...
I don't want to be left with nothing... zero... give me some meaning... and make this suffering
worth while.
A…MY NAME IS ALICE
by Joan Silver and Julianne Boyd
ACTRESS
Hello you…remember me? Chanteuse Rose? The little girl with the big voice who died for
love-twice a night? Oh, how I love to sing of love-en francais of course. French is the
language of love. Of course, it was not always French. Until I was thirteen, I was German.
Being German was nice-I liked the sausage-but in my heartm I knew something was missing.
So, at thirteen, I decided to change. For a while I was Danish. Comme ci, Comme ca- I liked
the pastry. Then I was very many things. I was Irish, Italian, Rumanian, Polish, but always,
no matter how good the food, or how high the mountains, I knew something was missingl'amour, n'est-ce pas? I needed to sing of my broken heart, to die of love-twice a night. And
for this I needed a slit in my skirt, a beret on my head, long cigarette, champagne, stiletto
heels-I needed, I needed to be French. French-my German Papa was right. When I was a
little girl, he used to come into my room, kneel by my bed, and whisper into my ear, he
would say, "Heidi-I was still German then-Heidi, you're different, you should be French.
DIARY OF ANNE FRANK
ANNE
Look, Peter, the sky. (she looks up through the skylight) What a lovely, lovely day! Aren't the
clouds beautiful? You know what I do when it seems as if I couldn't stand being cooped up
for one more minute? I think myself out. I think myself on a walk in the park where I used
to go with Pim. Where the jonquils and the crocus and the violets grow down the slopes.
You know the most wonderful part about thinking yourself out? You can have it any way
you like. You can have roses and violets and chrysanthemums all blooming at the same time?
It's funny. I used to take it all for granted. And now I've gone crazy about everything to do
with nature. Haven't you? (softly) I wish you had a religion, Peter. Oh, I don't mean you have
to be Orthodox, or believe in heaven and hell and purgatory and things. I just mean some
religion. It doesn't matter what. Just to believe in something! When I think of all that's out
there. The trees. And flowers. And seagulls. When I think of the dearness of you, Peter. And
the goodness of people we know. Mr. Kraler, Miep, Dirk, the vegetable man, all risking their
lives for us everyday. When I think of these good things, I'm not afraid any more. I find
myself, and God, and I... We're not the only people that've had to suffer. There've always
been people that've had to. Sometimes one race, sometimes another, and yet...I know it's
terrible, trying to have any faith when people are doing such horrible things, but you know
what I sometimes think? I think the world may be going through a phase, the way I was with
Mother. It'll pass, maybe not for hundreds of years, but some day I still believe, in spite of
everything, that people are really good at heart. Peter, if you'd only look at it as part of a
great pattern? That we're just a little minute in the life? (she breaks off) Listen to us, going at
each other like a couple of stupid grownups! Look at the sky now. Isn't it lovely?
MALE MONOLOGUES
THE GLASS MENAGERIE
by Tennessee Williams
TOM WINGFIELD
Tom is an aspiring poet who works in the Continental Shoemakers warehouse. He is the narrator of the
play: the action of the play is framed by Tom's memory. Tom loves his mother and sister, but he feels trapped
at home. They are dependent on his wages, and as long as he stays with them he feels he can never have a life
of his own. Nightly, he disappears to "go to the movies."
I have been to the movies. There was a very long program. There was a Garbo picture and a
Mickey Mouse and a travelogue and a newsreel and a preview of coming attractions. And
there was an organ solo and a collection for the Milk Fund- simultaneously-which ended up
in a terrible fight between a fat lady and an usher! Of course! And, oh, I forgot! There was a
big stage show! The headliner on this stage show was Malvolio the magician. He performed
wonderful tricks, many of them, such as pouring water back and forth between pitchers.
First it turned to wine and then it turned to beer and then it turned to whiskey. I know it was
whiskey it finally turned into because he needed somebody to come up out of the audience
to help him, and I came up-both shows! It was Kentucky Straight Bourbon. A very generous
fellow, he gave souvenirs. (He pulls from his back pocket a shimmering rainbow-colored scarf.) He
gave me this. This is his magic scarf. You can have it, Laura. You wave it over a canary cage
and you get a bowl of goldfish. You wave it over the goldfish bowl and they fly away
canaries….But the wonderfullest trick of all was the coffin trick. We nailed him into a coffin
and he got out of the coffin without removing one nail. There is a trick that would come in
handy for me-get me out of this two-by-four situation!
THE AUDITION
This comic monologue is printed here in its entirety, though written for a male actor, by changing a few
pronouns, the piece could be adapted for use by an actress.
My resume. Oh, first I should mention that I could play any of the parts in this play. Any. I
could play an ant, I could play Little Red Riding Hood, I could play Hamlet. I’ve never heard
of this play, as a matter of fact. It doesn’t matter. I can do opera, I can do commercials, I can
sing soprano, I can do my own stunts- I’m that versatile. Leading man, leading lady, gay,
ingenue- you name it, I can do it. That’s how great I am. I see you looking over my resume.
Noticing I’ve never had a part. It’s a real comment on this sick business we’re in, isn’t it? An
actor this good (he thumps his chest) and he’s blackballed! Why? For refusing to show up at
auditions! Auditions are beneath me. I wipe my feet on them. People should be begging me
to grace their theatres- producers should be asking me to audition them! But those
egomaniacs who should bow and scrape before me - they have forced me to betray my
principles and come to this (said with utter contempt) audition. So no, no, don't blame me for
demeaning myself in this grotesque position… I’ve waited ten years for them to come
crawling… but suffice it to say they were too wrapped up in their own insane… trivium to
get the hint. But enough of them. Let’s get to the situation at hand. You’re sitting there
typecasting me as a leading man aren't you? You’re thinking that because of my matinee idol
glorious good looks, and rich, sensuous, sexy, seductive, fetching, effervescent, tingly and
charming voice, I could only play a male lead. No, I tell you, no! Observe! An ant! (He crawls
along the floor in a normal way.) And now, King Lear! (He opens his umbrella and pretends, in an
awkward mime, to be blown around the stage.) I needn't mention, of course, that that was the
fabulous storm scene, out on the heath. And now, Brutus, impaled on his own sword! (Closes
the umbrella, stabs himself with it in the stomach. Dies, rather flatly.)
And here’s a homicidal lunatic: (he gets up, picks up the umbrella, waves it threatening forward, like a
sword. This part seems real.) Give me the part or I’ll kill you! I’ll poke out the vile grape jelly of
your eyes with the point of my umbrella! I’ve been waiting ten years for this! (Puts the umbrella
down.) OK. All the parts. I should play all the parts in you little production. Capiche?
Capiche. Note the mastery of the Spanish dialect. I do it all. Now, with that in mind, here’s
my… (Abrupt pause) What do you mean my time’s up? I haven’t done my monologue yet!
(Beat) What do you mean, next? Where do you get off saying next?! I memorized this thing! I
took the subway here! I elbowed my way ahead of dozens of pushy actors and still had to
wait a half hour to get in here! I wanna do my audition!
LOST IN YONKERS
by Neil Simon
EDDIE
It’s so damn hot in here, isn’t it? …. So, I just had a talk inside with your grandmother …
Because I’ve had a problem … When your mother and I had a problem, we always tried to
keep it from you boys because we didn’t want to worry you … Well, you can’t keep cancer, a
secret forever … You knew without me telling you, didn’t you? I did everything I could. The
best doctors, the best hospitals I could get into … she had a nice room didn’t she? Semiprivate, no wards or anything … We’re not rich people, boys. I know that doesn’t come as a
surprise to you ... but I’m going to tell you something now I hoped I’d never have to tell you
in my life … the doctors, the hospital, cost me everything I had … I was broke and I went
into debt … So I went to a man … a loan shark … A money lender … I couldn’t go to a
bank because they don’t let you put up heartbreak and pain as collateral … A loan shark
doesn’t need collateral … His collateral is your desperation … So he gives you his money …
And he’s got a clock. … And what it keeps time of is your promise. … If you keep your
promise, he turns off the clock … and if not, it keeps ticking … and after a while, your heart
starts ticking louder than his clock… Understand something. This man kept your mother
alive… It was his painkillers that made her last days bearable… and for that I’m grateful…
So you never take for yourself… But for someone you love, there comes a time when you
have no choice… there’s a man in New York I owe… Nine thousand dollars… I could
work and save four more years and I won’t have nine thousand dollars… He wants his
money this year. To his credit, I’ll say one thing. He sent flowers to the funeral. No extra
charge on my bill… There is no way I can pay this man back… So what’ll he do? Kill me?
…Maybe… If he kills me, he not only loses his money, it’ll probably cost him again for the
flowers for my funeral… I needed a miracle… And the miracle happened… this country
went to war… A war between us and the Japanese and the Germans… And if my mother
didn’t come to this country Thirty-five years ago, I could have been fighting for the other
side… Except I don’t think they’re putting guns in the hands of Jews over there… Let me
tell you something. I love this country. Because they took in the Jews. They took in the Irish,
the Italians and everyone else… Remember this. There’s a lot of Germans in this country
fighting for America, but there are no Americans over there fighting for Germany… I hate
this war, and god forgive me for saying this, but it’s going to save my life… There are jobs I
can get now that I could never get before… And I got a job… I’m working for a company
that sells scrap iron… I thought you threw crap iron away. Now they’re building ships with
it… Without even the slightest idea of what I’m doing, I can make that nine thousand dollars
in less than a year. Don’t say it till I finish… The factories that I would sell to are in the
South… Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, Texas, even New Mexico. … I’d be gone about ten
months … Living in trains, buses, hotels, any place I can find a room … We’d be free and
clear and back together again in less than a year … Okay? So now come the question, where
do you two live while I’m gone?