Coriolanus

Act V. Scene III.

Vol. Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment

And state of bodies would bewray what life

We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself 110

How more unfortunate than all living women

Are we come hither: since that thy sight, which should

Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance with comforts,

Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow;

Making the mother, wife, and child to see 115

The son, the husband, and the father tearing

His country’s bowels out. And to poor we

Thine enmity’s most capital: thou barr’st us

Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort

That all but we enjoy; for how can we, 120

Alas! how can we for our country pray,

Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory,

Whereto we are bound? Alack! or we must lose

The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person,

Our comfort in the country. We must find 125

An evident calamity, though we had

Our wish, which side should win; for either thou

Must, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles through our streets, or else

Triumphantly tread on thy country’s ruin, 130

And bear the palm for having bravely shed

Thy wife and children’s blood. For myself, son,

I purpose not to wait on Fortune till

These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee

Rather to show a noble grace to both parts 135

Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner

March to assault thy country than to tread—

Trust to ’t, thou shalt not—on thy mother’s womb,

That brought thee to this world.

Vir. Ay, and mine, 140

That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name

Living to time.

Boy. A’ shall not tread on me:

I’ll run away till I am bigger, but then I’ll fight.

Cor. Not of a woman’s tenderness to be, 145

Requires nor child nor woman’s face to see.

I have sat too long. [Rising.

Vol. Nay, go not from us thus.

If it were so, that our request did tend

To save the Romans, thereby to destroy 150

The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us,

As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit

Is, that you reconcile them: while the Volsces

May say, ‘This mercy we have show’d;’ the Romans,

‘This we receiv’d;’ and each in either side 155

Give the all-hail to thee, and cry, ‘Be bless’d

For making up this peace!’ Thou know’st, great son,

The end of war’s uncertain; but this certain,

That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit

Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name 160

Whose repetition will be dogg’d with curses;

Whose chronicle thus writ: ‘The man was noble,

But with his last attempt he wip’d it out,

Destroy’d his country, and his name remains

To the ensuing age abhorr’d.’ Speak to me, son! 165

Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour,

To imitate the graces of the gods;

To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o’ the air,

And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt

That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? 170

Think’st thou it honourable for a noble man

MonologuesSaturday, February 23, 20131:19 PM

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To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o’ the air,

And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt

That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? 170

Think’st thou it honourable for a noble man

Still to remember wrongs?

Orange Flower WaterBy Craig Wright

Beth: David, do you really want to be one of them? You think you could really take being one of them? You spent all that time trying to convince me the world out there had disappeared. Why? Because it's full of people who do this, David. It's full of people who shit all over each other, and whose word doesn't mean anything and whose kids are so screwed up, coming home to no Dad or no Mom, and it's all sold to us like it's almost normal, are we really gonna be like them? Isn't that what we're asking each other to do? There are no moments of goodness that don't… come with responsibilities. David, this is not a mistake. We're doing the right thing. You have a life. I have a life. This is not a mistake.

Orange Flower Waterby Craig Wright

When I was really little, you know ... i thought god was like my dad, only bigger. And just like it felt to walk through our house where my dad had built all the furniture, that’s how it felt to walk through the whole world. everything seemed like it had a little note taped to it: “thought you’d like this tree!” “thought you might like this sunset!” “thought you might like this cute boy! i made him just for you!” and, I told my guidance counselor in high school, you won’t believe this, I told her I didn’t need to choose a career, because god had a plan for my life? and she said she was part of how god let people in on his plans. and i believed her. and that was the beginning of the end ... because after that, it was so easy to see everything that way, right? Making out in the back of Jeff Kosternople’s VW Bus seemed like god’s way of letting me in on something; and drinking too much in high school was god’s way of letting me in on something. and now, just when I would really love to look out over those trees, Cathy, and see a little note: “Hi, Beth! thought you might like this world” -- i look around and there are no notes on anything, anywhere. (after a Beat.) Cathy, i’m really sorry about what’s happened. if it ever felt like a choice, i’d have chosen a differently, but it never did. i’m sorry.

Patter for the floating lady by steve martin - angie

Oh yes, i loved you. so many things. safety, words exchanged, letters. i would cough and the phone would ring and it would be you, asking if i was all right. You could imitate me and make me laugh. You would buy me a little thing. When i made spaghetti for you, you were so grateful, Pavarotti himself couldn’t have made better spaghetti. We were at a restaurant and a woman came up to you, flirting and right there in front of her, you laced your fingers between mine, showing her who you loved. But the most powerful was the tennis shoe. My god, icried. after our week in the tropics- where we collapsed, ended- a month later, not having spoken, you sent me a tennis shoe. i looked at it for days, not knowing why you sent it. then one morning, barefoot, not knowing why, i slipped my foot into it. sand. grains of sand still in it from seven thousand miles away; each one the size of a memory. i will love you forever for that second. i cried. i cried for us. But when we fell apart, you didn’t understand that i would be back. that if you let me have my life, i would be with you forever. But everything you said 3and did, every touch, every kindness, every loving comment had this sentence attached: maybe now she’ll love me. and it made you weak. and if i’m not going to love someone strong, why love at all?

loVe always by renee taylor and JosePh bologna - marilyn

david, wake up. i’m sorry to bother you again, but i want a divorce. i can’t stand it anymore. i’m living a lie. i panicked when i met you. ithought you were my last chance so i got you under false pretenses. i pretended to be perfect because i thought you wanted that. david, i’m not perfect. When you were going through your difficulties in making a commitment to me, i know you thought i was “understanding,” but david, i’m not understanding. everything you do bothers me, and i hate your guts. i’m sorry. i don’t mean that. go back to sleep. (After a pause.) alright, here’s the bottom line. i lied when i said you’re exciting. You’re romantic. You’re brilliant. You’re handsome. Here’s the truth that no one will every tell you about yourself. You’re just an ordinary guy. this is just a place. i’m just ordinary. i want more. it’s not enough. i don’t want to be just a person. it’s too hard. (She starts crying. Then, suddenly, through the tears:) What am i talking about? it is enough. it’s the best thing in the world to be a person. You do love me. oh, we’re going to have a wonderful, magnificent life together. a good marriage. i have everything. i finally have it. i do deserve it, even though it’s more than my mother had. i love you. i’m so lucky to have you to see me through my honeymoon. i’m so happy. goodnight, david.

Suei don’t know if i really want to marry Walter. i know i accepted his proposal, but, Mother, you encouraged it. Maybe i was so used to trying to please you that i just went along—until, before i knew it—we were engaged. You and dad were certainly pleased about it. i did not say i didn’t love Walter. i said i’m not sure now that i’m ready to marry him. things just aren’t as clear now. You never really asked, did you? neither of you. Mother, for all of my life, you have planned my every move. You have created a perfect daughter, and for the past two years—since Janie disappeared— you’ve buried your life in what i’ve been doing. i’ve become the living antidote for what Janie did to our family reputation. and you, dad, you’ve always petted your daughters and bragged to others about how charming we were—that is, when you had time. We’ve never really talked, have we? We don’t really know each other very well. You’ve attended the important ceremonies of our lives, and you’ve paid our bills. But what did this tell you about us as individuals? for the last two years, you’ve been involved with only two things—your job and finding

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the last two years, you’ve been involved with only two things—your job and finding Janie. this has been a silent household when the three of us have been here. Haven’t we always been interested mostly in achievements and in recognition, not in feelings or personalities? We’re in the same house but on different wave lengths. i want to be looked on as something more than a Blue ribbon winner at the Child show. i—i think Janie did, too. Yes, you showed me you loved me, and all you gave me you gave from love. i know that. Yes, you have given us a great deal. You’ve given us everything, and i do appreciate it. But you didn’t give us a chance to give. Maybe we had something to give you . . . if you’d just let us.

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