1|Contemporary Monolo gues
http://www.actorpoint.com/free_monologues/15.html
Biloxi Blues monologue 1
By Neil Simon
EUGENE: It was my fourth day in the army and so far I hated everyone. . .We were on a filthy train from
Fort Dix, New Jersey, to Biloxi, Mississippi, and in three days, nobody washed. The aroma was murder.
We were supposed to be fighting Germany and Japan, but instead we were stinking up America. . .Roy
Selfridge from Schenectady, New York, smelled like a tuna fish sandwich left out in the rain. He thought
he had a terrific sense of humor, but it was hard to laugh at a guy who had cavities in nineteen out of
thirty-two teeth. . .Joseph Wykowski from Bridgeport, Connecticut, had two interesting characteristics.
He had the stomach of a goat and could eat anything.. His favorite was Hershey bars. . .with the
wrappers still on them. The other peculiar trait was that he had a permanent erection. I’m talking
about day and night, marching or sleeping. There’s no explaining this phenomenon unless he has a
unique form of paralysis.
2|Contemporary Monolo gues
Biloxi Blues monologue 2
By Neil Simon
EUGENE: It was my fourth day in the army and so far I hated everyone. . .We were on a filthy train from
Fort Dix, New Jersey, to Biloxi, Mississippi. . .Joseph Wykowski from Bridgeport, Connecticut, had two
interesting characteristics. He had the stomach of a goat and could eat anything.. His favorite was
Hershey bars. . .with the wrappers still on them. The other peculiar trait was that he had a permanent
erection. I’m talking about day and night, marching or sleeping. There’s no explaining this phenomenon
unless he has a unique form of paralysis. . .Donald Carney from Montclair, New Jersey, was an okay guy
until someone made the mistake of telling him he sounded like Perry Como. His voice was flat. . .but his
sister wasn’t. She had the biggest breasts I ever saw. She came to visit him at Fort Dix wearing a tight
red sweater, and that’s when I discovered Wykowski’s condition.
3|Contemporary Monolo gues
Biloxi Blues monologue 3
By Neil Simon
EUGENE: It was my fourth day in the army and so far I hated everyone. . .We were on a filthy train from
Fort Dix, New Jersey, to Biloxi, Mississippi. If the Germans only knew what was coming over, they’d be
looking forward to this invasion. I’m Eugene Morris Jerome of Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, New York, and
you can tell I’ve never been away from home before. In my duffel bag are twelve pot roast sandwiches
my mother gave me. . .There were three things I was determined to do in this war. Become a writer, not
get killed, and lose my virginity. But first I had to get through training in the murky swamps of
Mississippi.
4|Contemporary Monolo gues
Biloxi Blues monologue 4
By Neil Simon
ARNOLD: I was in the latrine, alone, I spent four hours cleaning it, on my hands and knees. It looked
better than my mother’s bathroom at home. Then these two non-coms come in—one was the cook,
that three-hundred pound guy, and some other slob—with cigar butts in their mouths and reeking of
beer. They come in to pee, only instead of using the urinal, they use one of the johns. . .both peeing in
the same one, making circles, figure eights. Then they start to walk out, and I say, “Hey, I just cleaned
that. Please flush the johns.” And the big one, the cook, says, “Up your ass, rookie,” or some other
really clever remark. . .And I block the door and I say, “There’s a printed order on the wall signed by
Captain Langdon stating the regulations that all facilities must be washed after using”. . .and I’m
requesting that they follow regulations since I was left in charge, and to please flush the facility. And
then the big one says to me, “Suppose you flush it, New York Jew Kike,” and I said, “My ethnic heritage
notwithstanding, please flush the facility.” They look at each other, this half a ton of brainless beef, and
suddenly rush me, turn me upside down, grab my ankles and—and—and—they lowered me by my feet
into the toilet, in their filth, their poison. . .all the way so I couldn’t breathe. . .then they pulled off my
belt and tied my feet onto the ceiling pipes with my head still in their foul waste and tied my hands
behind me with filthy rags, and they left me there, hanging like a pig that was going to be slaughtered.
(You may stop here or add the final part.) I wasn’t strong enough to fight back. I couldn’t do it alone.
Nobody came to help me. . .Then the pipe broke, and I fell to the ground. . .it took me twenty minutes to
get untied. Twenty minutes. But it will take me the rest of my life to wash off my humiliation. I was
degraded. I lost my dignity. If I stay, Gene, if they put a gun in my hands, one night, I swear to God, I’ll
kill them both. . .I’m not a murderer. I don’t want to disgrace my family. . .But I have to get out of here.
5|Contemporary Monolo gues
Biloxi Blues monologue 5
By Neil Simon
EUGENE: I never like Wykowski much, and I didn’t like him any better after tonight. . .but the one I
hated most was myself because I didn’t stand up for Epstein, a fellow Jew. Maybe I was afraid of
Wykowski, or maybe it was because Epstein sometimes sort of asked for it, but since the guys didn’t pick
on me that much, I figured I’d just stay neutral. . .like Switzerland. . .Then I wrote in my memoirs what
every guy’s last desire would be if he was killed in the war. I never intended to show it to anyone, but I
still felt a little ashamed of betraying their secret and private thoughts. Possible the only one who felt
worse than I did was Hennessey, still doing push-ups on the floor.
6|Contemporary Monolo gues
Biloxi Blues monologue 6
By Neil Simon
(older teen)
TOOMEY: When you attack a man, never attack his strong points, And my strong point is Discipline. I
was weaned on Discipline. I sucked Discipline from my mother’s breast, and I received it on my bare
butt at the age of five from the buckle of my father’s Sam Browne army belt. . .And I loved that bastard
for it. . .because he made me strong. Damn right. . .he made me a leader of men. And then he made me
despise the weakness in myself, the weakness that can destroy a man’s purpose in life. And the purpose
of my life, Epstein, is Victory. Moral victory, spiritual victory, victory over temptation, victory on the
battle field, and victory in a damned army barracks in Biloxi, Mississippi. . .That’s what my daddy taught
me, Epstein. What did your daddy teach you?
7|Contemporary Monolo gues
Biloxi Blues monologue 7
By Neil Simon
(older teen)
TOOMEY: You know what I would do with my last week on earth? I would like to take one army rookie,
the greatest misfit dumb-ass, malcontent, sub-human, useless son of a bitch I ever came across and turn
him into an obedient, disciplined soldier that this army could be proud of. That would be my victory.
You are that subhuman misfit, Epstein, and by God before I leave here I’m gonna do it, you hear me? On
your feet, Epstein. ON YOUR FEET. ATTENTION! A crime has been committed in this room tonight,
Epstein. A breach of army regulations, A non-commissioned officer has threatened the life of an
enlisted man, brandishing a loaded weapon at him without any cause of provocation, the said act being
provoked by an inebriated platoon leader while on duty. . .I am that platoon leader, Epstein, and it is
your unquestioned duty to report this incident to the proper authorities. And as I am also piss drunk
and dangerous, Epstein, it is also your duty to relieve me of my loaded weapon. TAKE MY WEAPON,
DAMN IT! DEMAND it, you weasel bastard, or I’ll blow your puny brains out.
8|Contemporary Monolo gues
Biloxi Blues monologue 8
By Neil Simon
EUGENE: On that first train ride to Biloxi, Mississippi, we were all nervous. . .On that train headed for an
Atlantic seaport, were all scared. . .I closed my notebook, and tried to sleep. . .When I opened the
notebook two years later, I was on a train just like this one, headed to Fort Dix, New Jersey, to be
discharged. . I reread what I wrote to see how accurate my predictions were the night Wykowski broke
into my locker. Roy Seldridge served in every campaign in France, was eventually made a sergeant and
sent back to Biloxi to train new recruits. He has men doing three hundred push-ups a day. . .Wykowski
was wounded at Arnheim by a mortar shell. He lost his right leg, right up to the hip. He didn’t get the
Medal of Honor, but he was cited for outstanding courage in battle. Don Carney, after six months of
constant attack by enemy fire, was hospitalized for severe depression and neurological disorders. He
never sings any more. Arnold Epstein was listed as missing in action, and his body was never traced or
found. But Arnold’s a trick guy. He might still be alive teaching philosophy in Greece somewhere. He
just never liked doing things the army way. . .As for me, I never saw a day’s action. I was in a Jeep
accident my first day in England, and my back was so badly injured that they wanted to send me home.
Instead they gave me a job writing for Stars and Stripes, the G.I. newspaper. I still suffer pangs of guilt
because my career was enhanced by World War II. I’ll tell you one thing. . .I’m glad I didn’t know all that
the night our train left Biloxi for places and events unknown.
9|Contemporary Monolo gues
The Fantasticks
By Tom Jones
This charming musical fable tells the tale of two young neighbors Luisa (age 16) and
Matt (19) who are unknowingly pushed together by their fathers. It is told in the style of a
fairy tale complete with a mysterious narrator names El Gallo: boy meets girl, they are kept a
part by parents, boy rescues girl and parents relent to the match. However in Act II the fairy
tale turns sour. The young couple fight separate, see the world, and eventually discover all
they ever wanted was each other.
In the following monologue Matt is introduced to the audience. He is a smart, energetic boy
who dreams big. He fancies himself a romantic hero. The poetic style of the monologue
should influence tone, but not delivery. It should be treated like a fairy tale, not Shakespeare.
Matt:
There is this girl.
I’m nearly twenty years old.
I’ve studied Biology.
I’ve had an education.
I’ve been inside a lab:
Dissected violets.
I know the way things are.
I’m grown up; stable;
Willing to conform.
I’m beyond such foolish notions,
And yet—in spite of my knowledge--There is this girl.
She makes me young again, and foolish,
And with her I perform the impossible:
I defy Biology!
And achieve ignorance!
There are no ears but hers to hear the explosion of my soul! There are no other
eyes but hers to make me wise, and despite what they say of the species, there
is not one plant or animal or any growing thing that is made quite the same as
she is. It’s stupid, of course, I know it. An immensely undignified, but I do love
her!
10 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
The Fantasticks
By Tom Jones
This charming musical fable tells the tale of two young neighbors Luisa (age 16) and
Matt (19) who are unknowingly pushed together by their fathers. It is told in the style of a
fairy tale complete with a mysterious narrator names El Gallo: boy meets girl, they are kept a
part by parents, boy rescues girl and parents relent to the match. However in Act II the fairy
tale turns sour. The young couple fight separate, see the world, and eventually discover all
they ever wanted was each other.
In the following monologue Matt is introduced to the audience. He is a smart, energetic boy
who dreams big. He fancies himself a romantic hero. The poetic style of the monologue
should influence tone, but not delivery. It should be treated like a fairy tale, not Shakespeare.
Matt and Louisa are secretly in love, and hiding their relationship from their father’s. Matt’s
father has just announced that it is time for Matt to be married. He has selected a bride for
him. In the following monologue Matt is declaring to his father, and to Luisa, who is hidden
behind the wall (she is the “wall,” the ”willow,” the “flowers,” and the “wounded bird” he
refers to), that he will marry whom he chooses.
Matt:
Listen carefully to what I have to say.
Listen, Wall. And flowers. And willow, too.
And wounded bird. And Father, you
May as well listen too.
I will not wed by your wisdom.
I will not walk neatly into a church
And contract out to prolongate my race.
I will not go wedding in a too-tight suit
Nor be witnessed when I take my bride.
No!
I’ll marry, when I marry,
In my own particular way;
And my bride shall dress in sunlight,
With rain for her wedding veil.
Out in the open,
With no one standing by.
No song except September
Being sung in the busy grass!
No sound except our heartbeats, roaring!
Like a flower alive with bees!
Without benefit of neighbor!
Without benefit of book!
Except perhaps her handprint
As she pressed her hand in mine;
And she gives me her golden hair;
In a field, while kneeling,
Being joined by the joy of life!
There!
In the air!
In the open!
That’s how I plan to live!
11 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
How to Eat Like a Child:
And Other Lessons in Not Being a Grownup
by John Forster, Delia Ephron and Judith Kahan
This musical comedy revue is treated like an instruction manual for children. Each
song, sketch, or monologue has a title. The following monologue is called “How to Watch
More television.” The actor can actually recite the title prior to performing the monologue if
her chooses.
Darien was the name of the child that originally performed this piece. There is no specific age
or gender assigned to this monologue.
Be careful not to play it all one way. Use different tactics. Beg, negotiate, threaten, sob,
flatter etc…
Darien:
Please, Mom, please. Just this once. I’ll only ask this once. I promise, if you
let me watch this show, I’ll go to bed the second it is over. I won’t complain. I
won’t ask for a drink of water. I won’t ask for anything. Please. If you let me do
this, I’ll never ask you for anything ever again. Never. Please, Mommy, please.
You are the nicest mommy. You are the sweetest, nicest mommy. I promise I
won’t be cranky tomorrow. I promise I’ll go to bed tomorrow at nine. Please,
please, please.
(pause)
Why not! Just give me one reason. I told you I’ll be good. I told you I’ll go to bed.
Don’t you believe me? Don’t you trust me? Some mom- doesn’t even trust her
own kid. Look, I’ll just close my eyes and listen. I won’t even watch it! Oh, Mom,
why can’t I?
12 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Befriending Bertha
By Kerry Muir
Befriending Bertha is a play about a very shy girls who is befriended by a rather
unusual boy one day at school during lunch time. The following monologue is taken from the
opening scene in the play, which depicts their first meeting. Bertha (a girl of eleven or
twelve) is sitting alone on the playground. Charlie (a boy of eleven or twelve with a wild
energy) approaches her.
Charlie:
Sip of soda?
Bertha says nothing.
Pickle?
Again, Bertha says nothing.
I seem to have frightened you.
Bertha shakes her head “no.”
No?
Again, Bertha shakes her head “no.”
Oh. Okay. Silent type. Good, we’ll be great friends. You can listen, and I’ll do
all the talking. You know, for a girl of I would say, 11, or 12 years old you are
abnormally quiet. I mean unusually quiet….I haven’t said anything wrong have I? I
mean, nothing to offend you in any way, shape, form, or size?
Bertha shakes her head no.
Or color? Or texture? Or luminosity?
Bertha looks pleasantly interested.
Yes, luminosity. You know...(he gives her the Webster’s Dictionary definition)
Containing a certain quantity of light, illumination or iridescence…the quality of
glowing…sparkling, or shimmering…radiant, shining, aflame, afire. It’s a good
word…a very good word. There’s others, many others you might like as
well…maybe you’d like to hear some more tomorrow at lunch…at lunch
again…that is, if you’re not previously engaged.
Bertha smiles and nod’s yes.
Okay…good. Um…Bertha…I gotta go back to class in a little bit…um…if my Mom
or Dad asks me if I made any new friends today, can I just say that I made one real
nice one…and her name is Bertha? Just so they don’t think I bombed out on my
first day, or anything, and spent it all alone…Could you do me that one favor?
13 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Night Train to Bolina
By Nilo Cruz
The play Night Train to Bolina by Nilo Cruz, tells the story of two friends, Clara(age
12) and Mateo (age 11), who run away from home in order to escape their difficult lives in a
rural Latin American village.
Clara and Mateo’s close friendship is based on many shared painful experiences…the
absence of love at home, extreme hunger, and deprivation as a result of a series of natural
disasters in their farming community, and the oppressive presence of warfare in Latin
America.
Mateo convinces Clara the only way to survive is to run away from home. According to
his plan, they will stow away in boxes on the Night Train, and secretly leave home forever.
The following monologues are from a scene just before they leave on their long journey. Just
before this scene opens the two children write a letter to God asking for protection, go to a
cemetery where Mateo has hidden a kite, attach the letter to the kite and fly it as high as it
will go. At the scene’s opening the two children cut the string and watch their wish float into
the sky.
Mateo:
Look at it fly…That’s how we’re going to be,…free. Free….We’re going to
be free when we escape.
You can’t go back, and neither can I. I can’t go back. I told you my sister Flora
heard me talk in my sleep last night. She heard me talk about our escape. That’s
why Mama tied my leg to the kitchen table, ‘cause Flora told Ma I was talking in
my sleep about going to the city. You can’t go home anymore. You can’t go
home, Clara. You can’t go home. If you go to your house, they’ll tie your leg to a
table, then you won’t be able to escape.
_________
14 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Night Train to Bolina
By Nilo Cruz
The play Night Train to Bolina by Nilo Cruz, tells the story of two friends, Clara(age
12) and Mateo (age 11), who run away from home in order to escape their difficult lives in a
rural Latin American village.
Clara and Mateo’s close friendship is based on many shared painful experiences…the
absence of love at home, extreme hunger, and deprivation as a result of a series of natural
disasters in their farming community, and the oppressive presence of warfare in Latin
America.
Mateo convinces Clara the only way to survive is to run away from home. According to
his plan, they will stow away in boxes on the Night Train, and secretly leave home forever.
The following monologues are from a scene just before they leave on their long journey. Just
before this scene opens the two children write a letter to God asking for protection, go to a
cemetery where Mateo has hidden a kite, attach the letter to the kite and fly it as high as it
will go. At the scene’s opening the two children cut the string and watch their wish float into
the sky.
As the scene progresses Clara begins to back out of their plan. She is afraid to leave and
insisting on going home to her family. Mateo desperately tries to convince her to go with him.
He feels he cannot go alone. She is necessary for his freedom.
Mateo:
Nothing’s going to happen. When the Night train comes, we jump on it.
We get on and nothing will happen. I know which wagon to get on. The one
with the luggage. We hide in boxes…Come on…In the city we can sell cigarettes.
Five cents each. We’ll make money. And you can sell fruit and nuts on the
sidewalk. We could live on the church steps. I’ve seen people living there. If you
don’t come with me I’ll die. All of me will break into a million pieces. And I’ll be
dead. Dead.
15 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
You’re A Good Man Charlie Brown
By Clark Gesner
Based on the Comic Strip “Peanuts” by Charles M. Schultz
Charlie Brown, Lucy, Linus, Sally, Schroeder, and Snoopy all gather onstage for this
fun-filled live action version of the comic strip. Charlie Brown is thoughtful and hopeful as
usual and all the other characters retain their dynamic personalities we remember. Though
they all assure Charlie Brown that he is a “good man” despite his obvious flaws, he wonders if
he really is what they say. Throughout the play he tries to decide how he can really become a
good person
In this monologue Charlie is facing his hardest time of day at school: lunch time. He has just
spotted the girl he has a crush on, and is trying to get himself to muster up the courage to go
sit with her.
Charlie Brown:
There's that cute little red-headed girl eating her lunch over there. I
wonder what she would do if I went over and asked her if I could sit and have
lunch with her?...She'd probably laugh right in my face...it's hard on a face
when it gets laughed in. There's an empty place next to her on the bench.
There's no reason why I couldn't just go over and sit there. I could do that right
now. All I have to do is stand up...I'm standing up!...I'm sitting down. I'm a
coward. I'm so much of a coward, she wouldn't even think of looking at me. She
hardly ever does look at me. In fact, I can't remember her ever looking at me.
Why shouldn't she look at me? Is there any reason in the world why she
shouldn't look at me? Is she so great, and I'm so small, that she can't spare one
little moment?...SHE'S LOOKING AT ME!! SHE'S LOOKING AT ME!!
16 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Bridge to Terrabithia by Katherine Paterson
Character:
Jesse Aarons
Gender:
Male
Age (range):
10-14
Style:
Drama
Length:
3 minutes
Background Info: Jesse Aarons is a 10 year old Viginia farm boy who draws and runs. He is the lead character of
the play. He meets the new girl in school, Leslie, the other kids think that she is weird and make fun of her. But Jess
takes the time to get to know her. Through thier friendship the magical pretend land of Terrabithia is created. Toward
the end of the play, Leslie is killed swinging on a rope by herself in Terrabithia. Jess mourns her loss with this
speech...
(Listens to birds, looks at sky, sotto voice) Leslie? Are you there? Can you hear me?(Listens
as if expecting an answer. When there is none, he goes on.) I'm sorry I went off without
you. You would've liked Washington. (Beat.) I forget. You been to Washington millions of
times.
(He walks forward) Before you came I was nothing. But you made me king. You made me
hear music I never heard and see worlds I never knew was there. (pause as he takes in his
surroundings) It's gone. Terabithia's gone. There's nothing here.(Desperation elevates in
voice) Leslie, come back. Don't leave me here by my self. I don't know how to make the
magic come. I'm scared, Leslie.
(Steps forward) This is a time of greatest sarrow, the king must go to the sacred
grove. (Lifts head up ward.) Come, O Terabithians. We must have a procession for our
Queen. (Lifts hans toward the heavens.) Father, into thy hands I commend her spirit.
Before our realm a river, around our relm a wall, within our relm a castle you and I will rule
it all. A castle gleaming golden, scarlet banners to the sky, ten thousand loyal subjects to
care for (looks down) and you and I. (raises head and speaks directly) The rulers of
Terabithia, valiant king and queen, rulers of Terabithia, makers of magic, keepsers of
dreams.
17 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
High Fidelity Monologue
Foreigner
What came first? The music or the misery? People worry abnout kids playing with guns or
watching violent videos that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody
worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands, of songs about heartbreak,
rejection, pain, misery, and loss. Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I
miserable because I listened to pop music? It would be nice to think that since I was 14,
times have changed. Relationships have become more sophisticated. Females less cruel.
Skins thicker. Instincts more developed. But there seems to be an element of that afternoon
in everything that's happened to me since. All my romantic stories -- are a scrambled version
of that first one.
18 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
West Side Story
Character name:
Tony
Gender:
Male
Age Range:
18 — 25
Show:
West Side Story
Duration:
1 minutes
Monologue Type:
dramatic,contemporary
Notes:
The Jets and Sharks have just had a rumble in which Tony accidentally killed
Bernardo. He is now frantically trying to explain to Maria what has happened.
I tried to stop it; I did try. I don't know how it went wrong... I didn't mean to hurt him; I
didn't want to; I didn't know I had. But Riff... Riff was like my brother. So when Bernardo
killed Him… 'Nardo didn't mean it either. Oh, I don't know he didn't! Oh, no. I didn't come
to tell you just for you to forgive me so I couldn't go to the police...
Read more:http://www.stageagent.com/Shows/MonologuesView/1048#ixzz3DaJN2xoP
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19 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Balm in Gilead
by Lanford Wilson
Character name:
Fick
Gender:
Male
Age Range:
20 — 30
Show:
Balm in Gilead
Duration:
0 — 1 minutes
Monologue Type:
dramatic,contemporary
Notes:
Fick and Tig (a male prostitute) are at an all-night coffee shop in New York City. Fick
is a long-time heroin addict. He has recently been mugged by a group of men.
(They sit quietly, looking up out toward the street.) I mean, I was just walking down the
street and they came up on me like they was important, and they start pushing me around,
you know. And they pushed me into this alley, not an alley, but this hallway and back down
the end of that to this dark place at the end of the hallway and they start punching at me,
and I just fell into this ball on the floor so they couldn’t hurt me or nothing. But if I came
down there with a couple of fighters, a couple of guys, like my friends, it wouldn’t have to
be you or anything, but just a couple or three guys, big guys, like walking down the street,
you know. Just so they could see I got these buddies here. See I’m on H, I mean, I’m flying
and I gotta talk man, but I’m serious now; just a few guys and they’d leave me be, maybe,
because they’d think I had these buddies that looked after me, you know; cause I – you
know – they kicked me up, if I wasn’t on H, man, they’d be pains all through me – you know
– walking down the street by myself – I start looking around and wondering who’s out
there gonna mess me up, you know. I get scared as hell, man, walking down around here, I
mean, I can’t protect myself or nothing, man. You know what I mean? You know what I
mean? You know what I mean? You know? I mean if I had these couple – of big buddies –
fighters – you – you know – if I had a couple of guys – like – big guys – that - you know,
there’s like nothing – I could – like, if you walked around with these buddies, I mean you
could do, man – you could do anything . . .
Read more:http://www.stageagent.com/Shows/MonologuesView/1068#ixzz3DaIIwbae
20 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
The Foreigner
By Larry Shue
Don't tell me you've never seen a knife. Knife. That's a knife. Use it to cut things. Cut things.
(Mimes) Like - ham. If we had some ham. Or bacon, or sump'm. I can't believe you don't -.
(Looks around for help. There is none.) Or butter. If we had some butter, you could use it to
spread it on - . You don't really need it. No, you don't need it. (Demonstrating.) Put it down.
Bad Uh - . (Charlie now holds a spoon.) Yeah, now that's your spoon. Use that to put sugar in
your coffee, if you had some sugar, here. And you had some coffee - shoot. I don't really know
why we got all these things. But your fork - man, I wish somebody else'd help you with this,
'cause I don't know anything, but - I think that your fork - your fork'd be the main thing you'd
use. 'Cause you got your eggs, and you got your grits. Y'see? Eat 'em with a fork, just like we
been doin'. Can - you - say - 'fork'? 'Faw-werk'? 'Faw-werk.'
Two parts. 'Faw-werk.' . . . Right. Put 'em together. 'Faw-werk' . . .Good! That was great!'
21 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Mozart from Amadeus by Peter Schaffer
That's why opera is important, Baron. Because it's realer than any play! A dramatic poet would
have to put all those thoughts down one after another just to represent this second of time. The
composer can put them all down at once - and still make us hear each one of them. Astonishing
device: a Vocal Quartet! ....I tell you I want to write a finale lasting half and hour! A quartet
becoming a quintet becoming a sextet. On and on, wider and wider - all sounds multiplying and
rising together - and the together creating a sound entierly new!
.... I bet you that's how God hears the world: millions of sounds ascending at once and mixing in
His ear to become an unending music, unimaginable to us! That's our job! That's our job, we
composers: to combine the inner minds of him and him and him and her and her - the thoughts of
chambermaids and Court Composers - and turn the audience into God. (blows a raspberry and
giggles) I'm sorry. I talk nonsense all day: it's incurable - ask Stanzerl. My tounge is stupid
Baron. My heart isn't.
22 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
The Rainmaker
Starbuck:
“Now don’t ask me no questions… What do you care how I’ll do it, sister, as long as
it’s done! But I’ll tell you how I’ll do it! I’ll lift this stick and take a long swipe at the
sky and let down a shower of hailstones as big as cantaloupes! I’ll shout out some
good old Nebraska cusswords and you turn around and there’s a lake where your
corral used to be! Or I’ll sing a little tune maybe and it’ll sound so pretty and sound so
sad you’ll weep and your old man will weep and the sky will get all misty-like and
shed the prettiest tears you ever did see! How’ll I do it? Girl, I’ll just do it!… Sister
the place I brought rain is now called Starbuck – they named it after me! Dry? I tell
you, those people didn’t have enough damp to blink their eyes! So I get out my big
wheel and my rolling drum and my yella hat with three feathers in it! I look up at the
sky and I say: ‘Cumulus!’ I say: ‘Cumulonimbus! Nimimbululo-cumulus!’ And pretty
soon – way up there – there’s a tiny cloud like the size of a mare’s tail – and then over
there – there’s another cloud lookin’ like a white-wash chicken house! And then I
look up and all of a sudden there’s a herd of white buffalo stampedin’ across the sky!
And then, sister-of-all-good-people, down comes the rain! (Crosses to door.) Rain in
buckets, rain in barrels, fillin’ the lowlands, floodin’ the gullies! And the land is green
as the valley of Adam! And when I rode out of there, I looked behind me and I see the
prettiest colors in the sky – green, blue, purple, gold – colors to make you cry! And
me? I’m ridin’ right through the rainbow!”
23 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown
Charlie Brown:
“I think lunchtime is about the worst time of the day for me. Always having to sit here
alone. Of course, sometimes mornings aren’t so pleasing, either…waking up and
wondering if anyone would really miss me if I never got out of bed. Then, there’s the
night, too – lying there and thinking about all the stupid things I’ve done during the
day. And all those hours in between – when I do all those stupid things … Well,
lunchtime is among the worst times for me. Well, I guessI better see what I got. (He
opens bag, unwraps a sandwich, and looks inside.) Peanut Butter. (He bites and
chews.) Some psychiatrists say people who eat peanut butter sandwiches are lonely. I
guess they’re right. And if you’re really right the peanut butter sticks to the roof of
your mouth. (He munches quietly, idly fingering the bench.) Boy the PTA did a good
job of painting these benches. (He looks off to one side.) There’s that cute little
redheaded girl eating her lunch over there. I wonder what she’d do if I went over and
asked her if I could sit and have lunch with her. She’d probably laugh right in my
face. It’s hard on a face when it gets laughed in. There’s an empty place next to her on
the bench. There’s no reason why I couldn’t just go over there and sit there. I could do
that right now. All I have to do is stand up. (He stands.) I’m standing up. (He sits.)
I’m sitting down. I’m a coward. I’m so much a coward she wouldn’t even think of
looking at me. She hardly ever does look at me. In fact, I can’t remember her ever
looking at me. Why shouldn’t she look at me? Is there any reason in the world why
she shouldn’t look at me? IS she so great and I’m so small that she couldn’t spare one
little moment just to…(He freezes.) She’s looking at me. (In terror, he looks one way,
then another.) She’s looking at me. (His head looks all around frantically trying to
find something to notice.)”
24 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Ordinary People
Conrad:
“(Opening his eyes, his voice flat)…I tried to kill myself.
(Explosively) It’s not an old turkey. I locked myself in the bathroom to do it. (The
lights begin to turn a bluish color.) I locked myself in the bathroom… and I sat down
on the floor…it’s cold. The tiles are so damn cold. I’m holding the blade…an
accident, you know. I’m cut. Inside, I’m burning up. Outside, all I can feel is the cold
tile. And my chest feels so tight…it hurts, everything hurts…so I hold out my hand
and close my eyes… and I slice, one quick cut, deep cut. And then I switch – can you
believe that – right away I switch and pull the blade again. (He breathes heavily and
rocks slightly, back and forth, as he tries to compose himself enough to go on.) And
then I stop. And I open my eyes…and there it is…Oh, God, I’m thinking this place is
full of blood. It’s everywhere, spilling all over her good towels and the walls, the
floor, everywhere. I feel sick to my stomach. All of a sudden everything going
around…and I know downstairs in the den…watching television…they don’t know
anything. (He hunches his shoulders and lowers his head. He cries softly for a
moment, then calms himself.) I feel so bad…that they don’t know…that they’re gonna
come upstairs…and find this…this mess!”
25 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Our Town
George:
“Emily, I’m glad you spoke to me about that – that fault in my character. What you
said was right; but there was one thing wrong with it. That’s where you said I wasn’t
noticing – people – and you, for instance – why, you say you were watchin’ me when
I did everything – Why, I was doing the same about you all the time. Why, sure – I
always thought of you as one of the chief people I thought about. I always made sure
where you were sitting on the bleachers, and who you were talking with, and for three
days now I’ve tried to walk home with you; but something always got in the way.
Yesterday, I was standing over by the wall waiting for you, and you walked home
with Miss Corcoran.
Listen, Emily, I’m going to tell you why I’m not going to Agricultural School. I think
once you’ve found a person you’re very fond of – I mean a person who’s fond of you,
too, and who likes you well enough to be interested in your character – Well, I think
that’s just as important as collegeis, and even more so. That’s what I think:
(His head down. Squirming.) Emily, if I do improve, and make a big change, - would
you be – I mean, could you be?”
26 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
The House of Blue Leaves
Ronnie:
“I was twelve years old and all the newspapers had headlines on my twelfth birthday
that Billy was coming to town. And Life was doing stories on him and Look and the
newsreels because Billy was searching America to find the Ideal American Boy to
play Huckleberry Finn. And Billy came to New York and called my father and asked
him if he could stay here – Billy needed a hideout. All America wants to meet Billy
and he’ll be hiding out in your house. I came home – went in there – into my room
and packed my bag… I knew Billy would see me and take me back to California with
him that very day.
The doorbell rang. And then my father calls out: ‘Ronnie, guess who? Billy, we
named him after your father. Ronnie, guess who?’
I picked up my bag and said goodbye to myself in the mirror. Came out. Billy there.
Smiling.
It suddenly dawned on me. You had to do things to get parts. I began dancing.
Immediately. Things I have never done in my life – before or since. I stood on my
head and skipped and whirled (He does a cartwheel.) spectacular leaps into the air so I
could see veins in the ceiling and began laughing and crying soft and loud to show all
my emotions. And I heard music and drums that I couldn’t keep up with. And then cut
off my emotions just like that. Instantly. And took a deep bow like the Dying Swan I
saw on Ed Sullivan. I picked up my suitcase and waited at the door.
Billy turned to my parents, whose jaws were down to about there, and Billy said, ‘You
never told me I had an idiot for a godchild,’ and I picked up my bag and went to my
room and shut the door and never came out the whole time he was here.
My only triumph was he could never find a Huckleberry Finn. Another company
made the picture a few years later, but it flopped.”
27 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
You're a Good Man Charlie Brown
Character name:
Schroeder
Gender:
Male
Age Range:
16 — 29
Show:
You're a Good Man Charlie Brown
Duration:
0 — 1 minutes
Monologue Type:
comedic
Notes:
None
I'm sorry to have to say it to your face, Lucy, but it's true. You're a very crabby person. I
know your crabbiness has probably become so natural to you now that you're not even
aware when you're being crabby, but it's true just the same. You're a very crabby
person and you're crabby to just about everyone you meet. Now I hope you don't mind
my saying this, Lucy, and I hope you're take it in the spirit that it's meant. I think we
should be very open to any opportunity to learn more about ourselves. I think Socrates
was very right when he said that one of the first rules for anyone in life is 'Know Thyself'.
Well, I guess I've said about enough. I hope I haven't offended you or
anything.(awkward exit)
28 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
You're a Good Man Charlie Brown
Character name:
Snoopy
Gender:
Male
Age Range:
18 — 30
Show:
You're a Good Man Charlie Brown
Duration:
0 — 1 minutes
Monologue Type:
comedic,contemporary
Notes:
None
(on top of doghouse, speaking over music)Here's the World One I flying ace high
over France in his Sopwith Camel, searching for the infamous Red Baron! I must bring
him down! Suddenly, anti-aircraft fire, 'archie' we used to called it, begins to burst
beneath my plane. The Red Baron has spotted me. Nyahh, Nyahh, Nyahh! You can't hit
me! (aside) Actually, tough flying aces never say 'Nyahh, Nyahh, Nyahh'. I just, ah...Drat
this fog! It's bad enough having to fight the Red Baron without having to fly in weather
like this! All right, Red Baron! Where are you? You can't hide forever! Ah, the sun has
broken through...I can see the woods of Montsec below...and what's that? It's a Fokker
triplane! Ha! I've got you this time, Red Baron(SFX: machine gun fire)Aaugh! He's
diving down out of the sun! He's tricked me again! I've got to run! Come on Sopwith
Camel, let's go! Go, Camel, go! I can't shake him! He's riddling my plane with
bullets!(SFX: machine gun fire)Curse you, Red Baron! Curse you and your kind! Curse
the evil that causes all this unhappiness!(SFX: plane engine sputtering towards
silence)Here's the World War I flying ace back at the aerodrome in France, he is
exhausted and yet he does not sleep, for one thought continues to burn in his
mind...Someday, someday I'll get you, Red Baron!
29 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Camelot
Character name:
Arthur
Gender:
Male
Age Range:
18 — 28
Show:
Camelot
Duration:
0 — 2 minutes
Monologue Type:
dramatic
Notes:
None
When I was a lad of eighteen, our King died in London and left no one to succeed him; only a
sword stuck through an anvil which stood on a stone. Written on it in letters of gold it said:
"Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil is rightwise King bom of all England."
Many chaps tried to dislodge it, and none could. Finally a great tournament was proclaimed for
New Year's Day, so that all the mightiest knights in England would be assembled at one time to
have a go at the sword.
I went to London as squire to my cousin, Sir Kay. The morning of the tournament, Kay
discovered he'd left his sword at home and gave me a shilling to ride back to fetch it. On my way
through London, I passed a square and saw there a sword rising from a stone. Not thinking very
quickly, I thought it was a war memorial. The square was deserted, so I decided to save myself a
journey and borrow it. I tried to pull it out. I failed. I tried again. I failed again. Then I closed my
eyes and with all my force tried one last time. Lo, it moved in my hand. Then slowly it slid out of
the stone. I heard a great roar. When I opened my eyes, the square was filled with people
shouting: "Long live the King! Long live the King!" Then I looked at the sword and saw the
blade gleaming with letters of gold.
That's how I became King. I never knew I would be. I never wanted to be. And since I am, I have
been ill at ease in my crown. Until I dropped from the tree and my eye beheld you. Then
suddenly, for the first time, I felt I was King. I was glad to be King. And most astonishing of all,
I wanted to be the wisest, most heroic, most splendid Kiilg who ever sat on any throne. (There is
a moment of silence) If you will come with me, Milady, I will arrange for the carriage to return
you to your father.
30 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Balm in Gilead
Character name:
Fick
Gender:
Male
Age Range:
20 — 30
Show:
Balm in Gilead
Duration:
0 — 1 minutes
Monologue Type:
dramatic,contemporary
Notes:
Fick and Tig (a male prostitute) are at an all-night coffee shop in New York City. Fick
is a long-time heroin addict. He has recently been mugged by a group of men.
(They sit quietly, looking up out toward the street.) I mean, I was just walking down the street
and they came up on me like they was important, and they start pushing me around, you
know. And they pushed me into this alley, not an alley, but this hallway and back down the end
of that to this dark place at the end of the hallway and they start punching at me, and I just fell
into this ball on the floor so they couldn’t hurt me or nothing. But if I came down there with a
couple of fighters, a couple of guys, like my friends, it wouldn’t have to be you or anything, but
just a couple or three guys, big guys, like walking down the street, you know. Just so they could
see I got these buddies here. See I’m on H, I mean, I’m flying and I gotta talk man, but I’m
serious now; just a few guys and they’d leave me be, maybe, because they’d think I had these
buddies that looked after me, you know; cause I – you know – they kicked me up, if I wasn’t on
H, man, they’d be pains all through me – you know – walking down the street by myself – I start
looking around and wondering who’s out there gonna mess me up, you know. I get scared as
hell, man, walking down around here, I mean, I can’t protect myself or nothing, man. You know
what I mean? You know what I mean? You know what I mean? You know? I mean if I had these
couple – of big buddies – fighters – you – you know – if I had a couple of guys – like – big guys
– that - you know, there’s like nothing – I could – like, if you walked around with these buddies,
I mean you could do, man – you could do anything . . .
31 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
Man of La Mancha
Bookmark
Character name:
Sancho Panza
Gender:
Male
Age Range:
25 — 55
Show:
Man of La Mancha
Duration:
0 — 1 minutes
Monologue Type:
comedic
Notes:
My lady, my master has sent me to present to you a missive, (seeing her confusion) it is a sort of letter. My master
worned me to give it only into your hand (seeing her problem). No I can't read either. But my master, foreseeing such
a possibility, recited it to me so I could commit it to heart. It is no dishonor My Lady, as he explained it, noblewomen
are so busy with their needlework. Embroidering banners for their knights. He said they had no time for study. I know,
I don't understand it either but I can tell you from experience that knights have their own language for everything, and
it's better not to ask questions because it only gets you into trouble.
32 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
BOY’S LIFE
by Howard Korder
Phil, slightly neurotic, discusses his latest obsession with a girl and his feeling that he is "waiting for
something to happen." Phil, an anxious and nervous self-dramatizer, regularly meets with his college
friends to complain about his lack of success in meeting the right girl. Here, he shares the latest chapter
in his unsuccessful pursuits with his best friend Jack and describes the brief fling he recently had with
the equally neurotic Karen.
PHIL: I would have destroyed myself for this woman. Gladly. I would have eaten garbage. I
would have sliced my wrists open. Under the right circumstances, I mean, if she said, "Hey,
Phil, why don't you just cut your wrists open?" Well, come on, but if seriously... We clicked, we
connected on so many things, right off the bat, we talked about God for three hours once. I
don't know what good it did, but that intensity... and the first time we went to bed, I didn't even
touch her. I didn't want to, understand what I'm saying? And you know, I played it very casually,
because, all right, I've had some rough experiences, I'm the first to admit, but after a couple
weeks I could feel we were right there, so I laid it down, everything I wanted to tell her, and...
and she says to me, she says... "Nobody should ever need another person that badly." Do you
believe that? "Nobody should ever...!" What is that? Is that something you saw on TV? I put my
heart on the table, you give me Dr. Joyce Brothers? "Need, need," I'm saying I love you, is that
so wrong? Is that not allowed anymore? (Pause.) And so what if I did need her? Is that so bad?
All right, crucify me, I needed her! So what! I don't want to be by myself, I'm by myself I feel
like I'm going out of my mind, I do. I sit there, I'm thinking forget it, I'm not gonna make it
through the next ten seconds. I just can't stand it. But I do, somehow, I get through the ten
seconds, but then I have to do it all over again, cause they just keep coming, all these...
Seconds, floating by, while I'm waiting for something to happen, I don't know what, a car wreck,
a nuclear war or something, that sounds awful but at least there'd be this instant when I'd know
I was alive. Just once. Cause I look in the mirror, and I can't believe I'm really there. I can't
believe that's me. It's like, my body, right, is the size of, what, the Statue of Liberty, and I'm
inside it, I'm down in one of the legs, the gigantic hairy leg, I'm scraping around inside my own
foot like some tiny fetus. And I don't know who I am or where I'm going. And I wish I'd never
been born. (Pause.) Not only that, my hair is falling out, and that really sucks.
33 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
THE LARAMIE PROJECT
by Moises Kaufman and the members of the Tectonic Theater Project
A straight Wyoming Theatre major wrestles with issues of family and morality.
JEDADIAH: I've lived in Wyoming my whole life. The family has been in Wyoming, well... for generations.
Now when it came time for me to go to college, my parents can't - couldn't afford to send me to college.
I wanted to study theatre. And I knew that if I was going to go to college, I was going to have to get on a
scholarship - and so, they have this competition each year, this Wyoming state high school competition.
And I knew that if I didn't take first place in, uh, duets that I wasn't going to get a scholarship. So I went
to the theatre department of the university, looking for good scenes, and I asked one of the professors I was like, "I need - I need a killer scene," and he was like, "Here you go, this is it." And it was from
Angels in America. So I read it, and I knew that I could win best scene if I did a good enough job.
And when the time came, I told my mom and dad so that they would come to the competition. Now you
haveto understand, my parents go to everything - every ball game, every hockey game - everything I've
ever done. And they brought me to their room, and told me that if I did that scene, that they would not
come to see me in the competition. Because they believed that it is wrong - that homosexuality is wrong
- they felt that strongly about it that they didn't want to come see their son do probably the most
important thing he'd done to that point in his life. And I didn't know what to do. I had never gone
against my parents' wishes. So I was kind of worried about it. But I decided to do it. And all I can
remember about the competition is that when we were done, me and my scene partner, we came up to
each other and we shook hands and there was a standing ovation. Oh, man, it was amazing! And we
took first place, and we won. And that's how I can afford to be here at the university, because of that
scene. It was one of the best moments of my life. And my parents weren't there. And to this day, that
was the one thing that my parents didn't see me do. And thinking back on it, I think, why did I do it?
Why did I oppose my parents? 'Cause I'm not gay. So why did I do it? And I guess the only honest
answer I can give is that, well, I wanted to win.
34 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
From Huckleberry Finn
By Mark Twain
HUCK: Miss Watson told me to pray every day, and whatever I asked for I would get it. But
it warn't so. I tried it. Once I got a fish-line, but no hooks. It warn't any good to me without
hooks. I tried for the hooks three or four times, but somehow I couldn't make it work. By
and by, one day, I asked Miss Watson to try for me, but she said I was a fool. She never told
me why, and I couldn't make it out no way. I set down one time back in the woods, and had
a long think about it. I says to myself, if a body can get anything they pray for, why don't
Deacon Winn get back the money he lost on pork? Why can't the widow get back her silver
snuffbox that was stole? Why can't Miss Watson fat up? No, says I to my self, there ain't
nothing in it. I went and told the widow about it, and she said the thing a body could get by
praying for it was "spiritual gifts." This was too many for me, but she told me what she
meant--I must help other people, and do everything I could for other people, and look out
for them all the time, and never think about myself. This was including Miss Watson, as I
took it. I went out in the woods and turned it over in my mind a long time, but I couldn't see
no advantage about it--except for the other people; so at last I reckoned I wouldn't worry
about it any more, but just let it go.
35 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
A Separate Peace
By John Knowles
Everyone has a moment in history which belongs particularly to him. It is the moment when his
emotions achieve their most powerful sway over him, and afterward when you say to this person “the
world today” or “life” or “reality” he will assume that you mean this moment, even if it is fifty years past.
The world, through his unleashed emotions, imprinted itself upon him, and he carries the stamp of that
passing moment forever.
For me, this moment—four years is a moment in history—was the war. The war was and is reality for
me, I still instinctively live and think in its atmosphere. These are some of its characteristics: Franklin
Delano Roosevelt is the President of the United States, and he always has been. The other two eternal
world leaders are Winston Churchill and Josef Stalin. America is not, never has been, and never will be
what the songs and poems call it, a land of plenty. Nylon, meat, gasoline, and steel are rare. There are
too many jobs and not enough workers. Money is very easy to earn but rather hard to spend, because
there isn’t very much to buy. Trains are always late and always crowded with “servicemen.” The war will
always be fought very far from America and it will never end. Nothing in America stands still for very
long, including the people, who are always either leaving or on leave. People in America cry often.
36 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
A Separate Peace
By John Knowles
Sixteen is the key and crucial and natural age for a human being to be, and people of all other ages are
ranged in an orderly manner ahead of and behind you as a harmonious setting for the sixteen-year-olds
of this world. When you are sixteen, adults are slightly impressed and almost intimidated by you. This is
a puzzle, finally solved by the realization that they foresee your military future, fighting for them. You do
not foresee it. To waste anything in America is immoral. String and tinfoil are treasures. Newspapers are
always crowded with strange maps and names of towns, and every few months the earth seems to lurch
from its path when you see something in the newspapers, such as the time Mussolini, who had almost
seemed one of the eternal leaders, is photographed hanging upside down on a meathook. Everyone
listens to news broadcasts five or six times every day. All pleasurable things, all travel and sports and
entertainment and good food and fine clothes, are in the very shortest supply, always were and always
will be. There are just tiny fragments of pleasure and luxury in the world, and there is something
unpatriotic about enjoying them. All foreign lands are inaccessible except to servicemen; they are vague,
distant, and sealed off as though behind a curtain of plastic. The prevailing color of life in America is a
dull, dark green called olive drab. That color is always respectable and always important. Most other
colors risk being unpatriotic.
37 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
A Separate Peace
By John Knowles
Yes, he had practically saved my life. He had also practically lost it for me. I wouldn’t have been on that damn
limb except for him. I wouldn’t have turned around, and so lost my balance, if he hadn’t been there. I didn’t need to
feel any tremendous rush of gratitude toward Phineas.
The Super Suicide Society of the Summer Session was a success from the start. That night Finny began to talk
abstractedly about it, as though it were a venerable, entrenched institution of the Devon School. The half-dozen
friends who were there in our room listening began to bring up small questions on details without ever quite saying
that they had never heard of such a club. Schools are supposed to be catacombed with secret societies and
underground brotherhoods, and as far as they knew here was one which had just come to the surface. They signed
up as “trainees” on the spot.
We began to meet every night to initiate them. The Charter Members, he and I, had to open every meeting
by jumping ourselves. This was the first of the many rules which Finny created without notice during the summer. I
hated it. I never got inured to the jumping. At every meeting the limb seemed higher, thinner, the deeper water
harder to reach. Every time, when I got myself into position to jump, I felt a flash of disbelief that I was doing
anything so perilous. But I always jumped. Otherwise I would have lost face with Phineas, and that would have
been unthinkable.
38 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
A Separate Peace
By John Knowles
“The real reason, sir, was that we just had to jump out of that tree. You know that tree …”
I knew, Mr. Prud’homme must have known, Finny knew, if he stopped to think, that jumping out of the tree
was even more forbidden than missing a meal.
“We had to do that, naturally,” he went on, “because we’re all getting ready for the war. What if they lower
the draft age to seventeen? Gene and I are both going to be seventeen at the end of the summer, which is a very
convenient time since it’s the start of the academic year and there’s never any doubt about which class you should
be in. Leper Lepellier is already seventeen, and if I’m not mistaken he will be draftable before the end of this next
academic year, and so conceivably he ought to have been in the class ahead, he ought to have been a senior now,
if you see what I mean, so that he would have been graduated and been all set to be drafted.
“But we’re all right, Gene and I are perfectly all right. There isn’t any question that we are conforming in
every possible way to everything that’s happening and everything that’s going to happen. It’s all a question of
birthdays, unless you want to be more specific and look at it from the sexual point of view, which I have never
cared to do myself, since it’s a question of my mother and my father, and I have never felt I wanted to think about
their sexual lives too much.”
Everything he said was true and sincere; Finny always said what he happened to be thinking, and if this
stunned people then he was surprised.
39 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
A Separate Peace
By John Knowles
It was partly his doing.
The Devon faculty had never before experienced a student who combined a calm ignorance of the rules with
a winning urge to be good, who seemed to love the school truly and deeply, and never more than when he was
breaking the regulations, a model boy who was most comfortable in the truant’s corner. The faculty threw up its
hands over Phineas, and so loosened its grip on all of us.
But there was another reason. I think we reminded them of what peace was like, we boys of sixteen. We
were registered with no draft board, we had taken no physical examinations. No one had ever tested us for hernia
or color blindness. Trick knees and punctured eardrums were minor complaints and not yet disabilities which would
separate a few from the fate of the rest. We were careless and wild, and I suppose we could be thought of as a
sign of the life the war was being fought to preserve. Anyway, they were more indulgent toward us than at any
other time; they snapped at the heels of the seniors, driving and molding and arming them for the war. They
noticed our games tolerantly. We reminded them of what peace was like, of lives which were not bound up with
destruction.
40 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
A Separate Peace
By John Knowles
We reached the others loitering around the base of the tree, and Phineas began exuberantly to throw off his
clothes, delighted by the fading glow of the day, the challenge of the tree, the competitive tension of all of us. He
lived and flourished in such moments.
“Let’s go, you and me,” he called. A new idea struck him. “We’ll go together, a double jump! Neat, eh?”
None of this mattered now; I would have listlessly agreed to anything. He started up the wooden rungs and I
began climbing behind, up to the limb high over the bank. Phineas ventured a little way along it, holding a thin
nearby branch for support.
“Come out a little way,” he said, “and then we’ll jump side by side.”
The countryside was striking from here, a deep green sweep of playing fields and bordering shrubbery, with
the school stadium white and miniature-looking across the river. From behind us the last long rays of light played
across the campus, accenting every slight undulation of the land, emphasizing the separateness of each bush.
Holding firmly to the trunk, I took a step toward him, and then my knees bent and I jounced the limb. Finny,
his balance gone, swung his head around to look at me for an instant with extreme interest, and then he tumbled
sideways, broke through the little branches below and hit the bank with a sickening, unnatural thud. It was the first
clumsy physical action I had ever seen him make. With unthinking sureness I moved out on the limb and jumped
into the river, every trace of my fear of this forgotten.
41 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
A Separate Peace
By John Knowles
“I’ve been writing to the Army and the Navy and the Marines and the Canadians and everybody else all
winter. Did you know that? No, you didn’t know that. I used the Post Office in town for my return address. They all
gave me the same answer after they saw the medical report on me. The answer was no soap. We can’t use you. I
also wrote the Coast Guard, the Merchant Marine, I wrote to General de Gaulle personally, I also wrote Chiang Kaishek, and I was about ready to write somebody in Russia.
“Why do you think I kept saying there wasn’t any war all winter? I was going to keep on saying it until two
seconds after I got a letter from Ottawa or Chungking or someplace saying, ‘Yes, you can enlist with us.’ Then there
would have been a war. So don’t you dare tell me, ‘Phineas, you wouldn’t be any good in the war, even if nothing
had happened to your leg.’”
42 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
A Separate Peace
By John Knowles
Finny . . .Phineas, you wouldn’t be any good in the war, even if nothing had happened to your leg.
They’d get you some place at the front and there’d be a lull in the fighting, and the next thing anyone knew
you’d be over with the Germans or the Japs, asking if they’d like to field a baseball team against our side. You’d be
sitting in one of their command posts, teaching them English. Yes, you’d get confused and borrow one of their
uniforms, and you’d lend them one of yours. Sure, that’s just what would happen. You’d get things so scrambled up
nobody would know who to fight any more.
You’d make a mess, a terrible mess, Finny, out of the war.”
43 | C o n t e m p o r a r y M o n o l o g u e s
A monologue from the film "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" by John Hughes

Character: Ferris Bueller

Gender: Male

Age Range(s): Teenager (13-19)

Type of monologue / Character is: Persuasive, Descriptive, Introduction to story, Talking to the audience

Type: Dramatic

Year: 1986

Period: 20th Century

Genre: Comedy

Description: Ferris Bueller's intro monologue

Location: 1 minutes into the film
Ferris Bueller: "The key to faking out the parents is the clammy hands. It's a good non-specific symptom. A lot of people will tell you
that a phony fever is a dead lock, but if you get a nervous mother, you could land in the doctor's office. That's worse than school.
What you do is, you fake a stomach cramp, and when you're bent over, moaning and wailing, (confidentally) you lick your palms. It's
a little childish and stupid, but then, so is high school.
I did have a test today. That wasn't bullshit. It's on European socialism. I mean, really, what's the point? I'm not European, I don't
plan on being European, so who gives a crap if they're socialist? They could be fascist anarchists - that still wouldn't change the fact
that I don't own a car. Not that I condone fascism, or any ism for that matter. Isms in my opinion are not good. A person should not
believe in an ism - he should believe in himself. I quote John Lennon: "I don't believe in Beatles - I just believe in me." A good point
there. Of course, he was the Walrus. I could be the Walrus - I'd still have to bum rides off of people. "