Faculty of the VCA and MCM

Audition Monologue
Bachelor of Fine Arts (Music Theatre)
Monologues Booklet (Male) Selections for 2015 entry
Please read the following instructions carefully
You must prepare one Shakespeare and one contemporary monologue. One of these pieces must be from
the list in this Music Theatre Monologues booklet.
Where possible, you should read the entire play from which your piece has been chosen in order to place
the speech in context. If choosing your own piece, you are strongly advised to select from plays rather than
film or television scripts.Pieces must be no longer than two minutes.
Texts must be fully learned and performed off-book.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

HENRY V
Prologue
Chorus
O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention;
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all,
The flat unraised spirits that have dared
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth So
great an object. Can this cockpit hold The
vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest in little place a million;
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work.
Suppose within the girdle of these walls
Are now confined two mighty monarchies,
Whose high upreared and abutting fronts
The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder:
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts;
Into a thousand parts divide on man,
And make imaginary puissance;
Think when we talk of horses, that you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i' threceiving earth;
For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times,
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this history;
Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

Julius Caesar
Act 1, sc 2
CASSIUS
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world
Like a colossus, and we petty men
Walk under his huge legs and peep about
To find ourselves dishonourable graves.
Men at some time are masters of their fates.
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.
Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'?
Why should that name be sounded more than yours?
Write them together, yours is as fair a name;
Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well;
Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em,
Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar.
Now, in the names of all the gods at once,
Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed,
That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods!
When went there by an age, since the great flood,
But it was famed with more than with one man?
When could they say till now, that talk'd of Rome,
That her wide walls encompass'd but one man?
Now is it Rome indeed and room enough,
When there is in it but one only man.
O, you and I have heard our fathers say,
There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd
The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome
As easily as a king.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

Act 2, sc 3
Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog
LAUNCE
Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping. All the kind of the Launces have this
very fault. I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with
Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think Crab, my dog, be the sourest-natured dog
that lives: my mother weeping; my father wailing; my sister crying; our maid
howling; our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity; yet did
not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear. He is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has
no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting.
Why, my grandam, having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay,
I'll show you the manner of it. This shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my father:
no, no, this left shoe is my mother: nay, that cannot be so neither. Yes, it is so, it is
so, it hath the worser sole. This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my
father: a vengeance on't! there 'tis. Now, sir, this staff is my sister, for, look you, she
is as white as a lily and as small as a wand. This hat is Nan, our maid. I am the dog.
No, the dog is himself, and I am the dog. O, the dog is me, and I am myself. Ay, so,
so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing Now should not the shoe speak
a word for weeping: now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on. Now come I to
my mother: O, that she could speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her. Why,
there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down. Now come I to my sister; mark
the moan she makes. Now the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word;
but see how I lay the dust with my tears.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

Othello
Act 1, sc 3
IAGO
It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of the will. Come, be a man! Drown
thyself? drown cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy friend, and I confess
me knit to thy deserving with cables of perdurable toughness. I could never better
stead thee than now. Put money in thy purse; follow thou the wars, defeat thy favor
with an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It cannot be that Desdemona
should long continue her love to the Moor put money in thy purse nor he his to
her. It was a violent commencement in her, and thou shalt see an answerable
sequestration put but money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in their
wills: fill thy purse with money. The food that to him now is as luscious as locusts
shall be to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must change for youth: when
she is sated with his body she will find the error of her choice: she must have change,
she must. Therefore put money in thy purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a
more delicate way than drowning - make all the money thou canst. If sanctimony
and a frail vow betwixt an erring Barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian be not too
hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou shalt enjoy her - therefore make
money. A pox of drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek thou rather to be
hanged in compassing thy joy than to be drowned and go without her.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

Hamlet
Act 1 sc 2
HAMLET
O, that this too too sullied flesh would melt
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew,
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't, ah fie, 'tis an unweeded garden
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead - nay, not so much, not two So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That
he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit
her face too roughly. Heaven and earth, Must I
remember? Why, she would hang on him, As if
increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on; and yet, within a month Let me not think on't - Frailty, thy name is woman A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears -why she, even she O, God, a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer - married with my uncle,
My father's brother - but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules. Within a month,
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married - O most wicked speed! To post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not, nor it cannot come to good.
But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

Mcabeth
Act 1, sc 8
MACBETH:
If it were done, when tis done, then twere well
It were done quickly: if thassassination
Could trammel up the consequence, and catch
With his surcease, success: that but this blow
Might be the be-all and the end-all here
But here, upon this bank and shoal of time,
Wed jump the life to come. But in these cases,
We still have judgment here; that we but teach
Bloody instructions, which being taught, return
To plague thinventor: this even-handed Justice
Commends thingredience of our poisond chalice
To our own lips. Hes here in double trust: First,
as I am his kinsman, and his subject, Strong
both against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against the murtherer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan
Hath borne his faculties so meek; hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongud against
The deep damnation of his taking-off;
And Pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or Heavens Cherubin, horsd
Upon the sightless couriers of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye
That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur
To prick the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which oerleaps itself,
And falls on thother-

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

Richard III
Act 1 sc 1
Richard
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this son of York;
And all the clouds that lourd upon our House
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths,
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments,
Our stern alarums changd to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visagd War hath smoothd his wrinkled front:
And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries
He capers nimbly in a ladys chamber,
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shapd for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking glass,
I, that am rudely stampd, and want loves majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph:
I, that am curtaild of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformd, unfinishd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world scarce half made up
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them
Why, I, in this weak, piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity.
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams
To set my brother Clarence and the King
In deadly hate, the one against the other.
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mewd up
Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne
Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

About a prophecy, which says that G

Of Edwards heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here Clarence comes.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

The Winters Tale

Act 1 sc 2
Leontes
Gone already!
Inch-thick, knee-deep, o'er head and ears a fork'd one!
Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I
Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue
Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour
Will be my knell. Go play, boy, play. There have been,
(Or I am much deceived), cuckolds ere now;
And many a man there is, (even at this present,
Now while I speak this), holds his wife by th arm,
That little thinks she has been sluiced in's absence
And his pond fish'd by his next neighbour, by
Sir Smile, his neighbour: nay, there's comfort in't
Whiles other men have gates and those gates open'd,
As mine, against their will. Should all despair
That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind
Would hang themselves. Physic for't there is none;
It is a bawdy planet, that will strike
Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it,
From east, west, north and south: be it concluded,
No barricado for a belly. Know't;
It will let in and out the enemy
With bag and baggage: many thousand on's
Have the disease, and feel't not. How now, boy!

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

Measure for Measure

Angelo
Act II sc 2
Whats this? Whats this? Is this her fault, or mine?
The tempter, or the tempted, who sins most, ha?
Not she; nor doth she tempt; but it is I
That, lying by the violet in the sun,
Do as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Corrupt with virtuous season. Can it be
That modesty may more betray our sense
Than womans lightness? Having wasted ground enough,
Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary And
pitch our evils there? O fie, fie, fie! What
dost thou, or what art thou, Angelo? Dost
thou desire her foully for those things That
make her good? O, let her brother live!
Thieves for their robbery have authority,
When judges steal themselves. What, do I love her,
That I desire to hear her speak again?
And feast upon her eyes? What ist I dream on?
O cunning enemy, that, to catch a saint,
With saints dost bait the hook! Most dangerous
Is that temptation that doth goad us on
To sin in loving virtue. Never could the strumpet
With all her double vigour, art and nature,
Once stir my temper: but this virtuous maid
Subdues me quite. Ever till now
When men were fond, I smild, and wonderd how.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Shakespeare

Romeo and Juliet

Act II sc 2
Romeo
He jests at stars that never felt a wound.
[Enter JULIET above]
But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east and Juliet is the sun!
Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid since she is envious,
Her vestal livery is but sick and green
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off.
It is my lady, O it is my love!
O that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourses, I will answer it.
I am too bold. Tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
As daylight doth a lamp. Her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy regions stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.
O that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek. She speaks.
O speak again bright angel, for thou art
As glorious to this night, being oer my head,
As is a winged messenger of heaven
Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clouds
And sails upon the bosom of the air.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary
LAKEBOAT by David Mamet
JOE:
You get paid for doing a job. You trade the work for money, am I right? Why is it
any fucking less good than being a doctor for example? Thats one thing I never
wanted to be, a doctor. I used to want to be a lot of things when I was little. You
know, like a kid. I wanted to be a ballplayer like everyone. And I wanted to be a cop,
what does a kid know, right? And can I tell you something that I wanted to be? I
know this is going to sound peculiar, but it was a pure desire on my part. One thing
I wanted to be when I was little (I dont mean bragging now, or just saying it). If you
were there you would have known, it was a pure desire on my part. I wanted to be
a dancer. Thats the one thing I guard. Like you might guard the first time you got
laid, or being in love with a girl. Or winning a bike at the movieswell, maybe not
that. More like getting married, or winning a medal in the war. I wanted to be a
dancer. Not tap, I mean a real ballet dancer. I know theyre all fags, but I didnt
think about it. That is, I didnt not think about it. That is, I didnt say, I want to be a
dancer but I do not want to be a fag. It just wasnt important. I saw myself arriving
at the theatre late doing Swan Lake at the Lyric Opera. With a coat with one of
those old-time collars. (It was winter.) And on stage with a purple shirt and white
tights catching these girlsbeautiful light girls. Sweating. All my muscles are
covered in sweat, you know? But its clean. And my muscles all feel tight. Every
fucking muscle in my body. Hundreds of them. Tight and working. And Im standing
up straight on stage with this kind of expression on my face waiting to catch this
girl. I was about fifteen. It takes a hell of a lot of work to be a dancer. But a dancer
doesnt even fucking care if he is somebody. He is somebody so much so its not
important. You know what I mean? Like these passengers we get. Guests of the
Company. Always being important. If theyre so fucking important why the fuck do
they got to tell you about it?

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary

LOOK BACK IN ANGER by John Osborne

JIMMY:
Dont try and patronise me. (Turning to Cliff.) Shes so clumsy. I watch for her to do
the same things every night. The way she jumps on the bed, as if she were stamping
on someones face, and draws the curtains back with a great clatter, in that casually
destructive way of hers. Its like someone launching a battleship. Have you ever
noticed how noisy women are? Have you? The way they kick the floor about,
simply walking over it? Or have you watched them sitting at their dressing tables,
dropping their weapons and banging down their bits of boxes and brushes and
lipsticks? Ive watched her doing it night after night. When you see a woman in
front of her bedroom mirror, you realise what refined sort of a butcher she is. Did
you ever see some dirty old Arab, sticking his fingers into some mess of lamb fat
and gristle? Well, shes just like that. Thank God they dont have many women
surgeons! Those primitive hands would have your guts out in no time. Flip! Out it
comes, like the powder out of its box. Flop! Back it goes, like the power puff on the
table.
Shed drop your guts like hair clips and fluff all over the floor. Youve got to be
fundamentally insensitive to be as noisy and as clumsy as that. I had a flat
underneath a couple of girls once. You heard every damned thing those bastards
did, all day and night. The most simple, everyday actions were a sort of assault
course on your sensibilities. I used to plead with them. I even got to screaming the
most ingenious obscenities I could think of, up the stairs at them. But nothing,
nothing would move them. With those two, even a simple visit to the lavatory
sounded like a medieval siege. Oh, they beat me in the end I had to go. I expect
theyre still at it. Or theyre probably married by now, and driving some other poor
devils out of their minds. Slamming their doors, stamping their high heels, banging
their irons and saucepans the eternal flaming racket of the female.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary

THE PRIVATE EAR by Peter Shaffer

BOB:
We werent born to work in offices. Eyes. Complicated things like eyes, werent
made by God just to see columns of twopence-halfpennies written up in a ledger.
Tongues. Good grief, the woman next to me in the office even sounds like a
typewriter. A thin, chipped old typewriter, always clattering on about what Miss
Story said in Accounts and Mr Burnham said back. Its awful! Do you know how
many thousands of years it took to make anything so beautiful, so feeling, as your
hand? People say I know something like the back of my hand, but they dont know
their hands. They wouldnt recognise a photograph of them. Why? Because their
hands are anonymous. Theyre just tools for filling invoices, turning lathes round.
They cramp up from picking slag out of moving belts of coal. It thats not
blasphemy, what is? Ill tell you something really daft. Some nights when I come
back here I give the stereo a record for his supper. Thats the way I look at him
sometimes, feeding off discs, you know. And I conduct it. If its a Concerto I play the
solo part, running up and down the keyboard, doing the expressive bits, everything.
I imagine someone I love is sitting out in the audience watching; you know,
someone I want to admire me. Anyway, it sort of frees things inside me. At great
moments I feel shivery all over. Its marvellous to feel shivery like that. What I want
to know is, why cant I feel that in my work? Why cant I oh, I dont know feel
bigger? Theres something in me I know thats big. That can be excited, anyway.
And that must mean I can excite other people, if only I knew what way. I never met
anyone to show me that way.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary

SEXUAL PEVERSITY IN CHICAGO by David Mamet

BERNIE:
So here I am. Im just in a town for a one-day layover and I happen to find myself in
this bar. So, so far so good. What am I going to do? I could lounge alone and lonely
and stare into my drink, or I could take the bull by the horns and make an effort to
enjoy myself
So hold on. So I see you seated at this table and I say to myself, Doug McKenzie,
there is a young woman, I say to myself, What is she doing here?, and I think she
is here for the same reasons as I. To enjoy herself, and perhaps, to meet
provocative people. (Pause.) Im a meteorologist for TWA. Its an incredibly
interesting, but lonely jobStuck in the cockpit of some jumbo jet hours at a
timenothing to look at but chartsWhat are you drinking?
Youre a scotch drinker, huh?
Well, what the hell, youre drinking scotch. But I say Why pigeonhole ourselves? A
person makes an effort to enjoy himself, why pin a label on it, huh? This is life. You
learn a lot about life working for the airlines. Because youre constantly in touch,
you know with what?, with the idea of Death. (Pause.) Not that Im a fan of
morbidness, and so on. I mean what are you doing here? Youre by yourself, I can
see that. So what do you come here for? To what? To meet interesting new people
or not. (Pause.) What else is there?...All kidding asidelookit, Im a fucking
professional, huh? My life is a bunch of having to make split-second decisions. Life
or death fucking decisions. So thats what it is, so okay. I work hard, I play hard.
Comes I got a day off I wanna relax a bitwander quite by accident into this bar.
I have a drink or twoperhaps a drop too much. Perhaps I get too loose (its been
known to happen.) So what do I see? A nice young woman sitting by herself

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary

BODIES by James Saunders

MERVYN:
Back of the hand barely touching the skirt. God, I thought, they must feel it back
there, the waves of it, like bloody D-Day! After that it was torment. Of course it was
totally impossible: her best friend, the wife of my best friend; we lived practically in
each others pockets. It was mad. I tried to rationalise it away. I said: its obvious
whats happened. Shes rather fallen for me for some reason, after all this time,
perhaps theyre having trouble; shes dissatisfied, looking around for something
else. But thats her business. I dont have to follow suit. Im flattered, thats all it is,
because she wants me at a time when I dont feel particularly wanted. Dont be a
fool, dont behave like a child. Keep clear. Forget it. Itll go away. I knew the cost of
it, I was no beginner: the sick excitement, the lurchings, the constant planning, the
tearing in two; a few islands of extraordinary happiness in a waste of messy
discomfort. Ive wondered since whether I could have stood out against it. I dont
know, I suppose I could, I was a rational human being, part of me anyway. The
letting go is always a conscious decision, whatever they say. What tipped the
balance, as before, as always, was first, an anger. How dare things be this way! That
the simple, good coming together of two people is made an act of madness! Then a
fear. I was afraid of losing something of myself, afraid, in a way, of dying. The need,
the desire, whatever it was, was my experience; it was real, however painful it was,
however perverse, it was mine, it was me, it was the only real thing about me, that
awful obsessive clawing, the clawing of that need to be myself, to do what needed
to be done if I were not to kill part of myself by killing that need. So I did it; or it
was done. One day I let go.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary

DEATH OF A SALESMAN by Arthur Miller

BIFF:
Now hear this, Willy, this is me. You know why I had no address for three months? I
stole a suit in Kansas City and I was jailed. I stole myself out of every good job since
high school. And I never got anywhere because you blew me so full of hot air I
could never stand taking orders from anybody! Thats whose fault it is! Its
goddamn time you heard that! I had to be boss big shot in two weeks, and Im
through with it! Willy! I ran down eleven flights with a pen in my hand today. And
suddenly I stopped, you hear me? And in the middle of that office building, do you
hear this? I stopped in the middle of that building and I saw- the sky. I saw the
things that I love in the world. The work and the food and the time to sit and
smoke. And I looked at the pen and said to myself, what the hell am I grabbing this
for? Why am I trying to become what I dont want to be? What am I doing in an
office, making a contemptuous, begging fool of myself, when all I want is out there,
waiting for me the minute I say I know who I am! Why cant I say that, Willy? Pop!
Im a dime a dozen, and so are you! I am not a leader of me, Willy, and neither are
you. You were never anything but a hard-working drummer who landed in the ashcan like all the rest of them! Im a dollar an hour, Willy! I tried seven states and
couldnt raise it! A buck an hour! Do you gather my meaning? Im not bringing
home any prizes any more, and youre going to stop waiting for me to bring them
home! Pop, Im nothing! Im nothing, Pop. Cant you understand that? Theres no
spite in it any more. Im just what I am, thats all. Will you let me go, for Christs
sake? Will you take that phoney dream and burn it before something happens?

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary

FAT PIG by Nell LaBute

TOM:
Im weak. Thats what I basically learned from our time together. I am a weak
person, and I dont know if I can overcome that. No, maybe I do know. Yeah. I do
know that I am, and I cant overcome it, I mean. I think you are an amazing
woman, I honestly do. And I really love what weve had here. Our time together
But I think that were very different people. Not just who we are- jobs or that kind
of thing- but it does play into it as well. Factors in. We probably shouldve realized
this earlier, but Ive been so happy being near you that I just sorta overlooked it
and went on. I did. But I feel it coming up now, more and more, and I just think- No,
thats bullshit, actually, the whole work thing. Forget it. (Beat.) Im just, I feel that
we should maybe stop before we get too far. Its weird to say this, because in many
ways Im already in so deep. Care about you a lot, and that makes it superhard. ButI guess I do care what my peers think about me. Or how they view my choices and,
yes, maybe that makes me not very deep, or petty, or some other word, hell, I dont
know! Its my Achilles flaw or something. It doesnt matter. What Im sure of is thiswe need to stop. Stop seeing each other or going out or anything like that. Because I
know now how weak I am and that Im not really deserving of you, of all you have
to offer me. I can see that now. Helen things are so tricky, life is. I want to be
better to do good and better things and to make a proper sort of decision here,
but I I cant.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary

THE GOLDEN AGE by Louis Nowra

FRANCIS:
Look at us reflected in the water, see? Upside-down.
[He smiles and she smiles back. Silence.]
So quiet. Im not used to such silence. Im a city boy, born and bred. Youve never
seen a city or town, have you? Where I live there are dozens of factories: shoe
factories, some that make gaskets, hydraulic machines, clothing. My mother works
in a shoe factory. [Pointing to his boots] These came from my mothers factory.
[Silence.]
These sunsets here, Ive never seen the likes of them. A bit of muddy orange light in
the distance, behind the chimneys, is generally all I get to see.
[Pause]
Youd like the trams, especially at night. They rattle and squeak, like ghosts rattling
their chains, and every so often the conducting rod hits a terminus and there is a
brilliant spark of electricity, like an axe striking a rock. Spisss! On Saturday
afternoon thousands of people go and watch the football. A huge oval of grass.
[Miming a football] A ball like this. Someone hand passes it, whish, straight to me. I
duck one lumbering giant, spin around a nifty dwarf of a rover, then I catch sight of
the goals. I boot a seventy-yard drop kick straight through the centre. The crowd
goes wild!
[He cheers wildly. BETSHEB laughs at his actions. He is pleased to have made
her laugh.]
Not as good as your play.
[Pause]
This is your home. My home is across the water, Bass Strait.
[Silence.]
What is it about you people? Why are you like you are?

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary

TANGLED UP IN BLUE by Brad Boesen

HE:
You know I know this was bad timing. I know you guys...I know you just broke
up. I do. But ever since Ive known you, youve always been in a relationship. You
always have. Always. And in the few, brief times when you werent in a
relationship, I was, so we... We
just never...
And I know Ive had too much to drink, but I just need to finish this now, and say
what I need to say, because the way things... The way it looks now, were not
going to be
spending so much time together anymore.
And I just need to say this. I need to say this. I need to get this out. (pause) Im
sorry that I put you through this. But for as long as I can remember, since as
long as I can remember, Ive been settling, you know? I remember it must have
been seventh or eighth grade my first girlfriend. I mean, wed talk to each other in
the halls, and sit by each other in study hall, and, next thing I knew, she was calling
me at home, asking what I thought she should wear to the dance that I hadnt
actually asked her to. So I guess she was my girlfriend. But I remember walking
home from school one day, and thinking I dont, really, even like her. I mean, she
was nice, you know? I liked her. But I didnt like her.
She bored me when wed talk. But I remember, even then, that long ago, in junior
high school, thinking, what if I never meet anyone else? What if no one else ever
wants to go out with me? Because, believe me, the offers werent pouring in any
better then than they are now. And I really didnt think I would meet anyone else.
(pause)
When I actually met you at the party, we were so good together. We were just so
good. But you were with someone. And youve been with someone ever since. And
weve gotten to the point, now, where I really cant imagine not being your friend. I
cant... I just cant imagine my life without you. (pause) You asked me why I never
stayed very long with the women Ive dated; its you. Because of you. Because I
didnt want to settle any more. Id been doing it all my life, and I didnt want to
settle. And every woman I met, every one, I would compare them to you, and they
werent you. They just werent. And I refused to settle until until I knew one way
or another. So dont tell me that Im just drunk, or that I dont really feel the way I
feel, because Ive had four years to think about this, and I know how I feel.

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry

Male - Contemporary

THE FATHER WE LOVED ON A BEACH BY THE SEA by Stephen Sewell

DAN:
Whats the matter with you? Havent you got fucking eyes? Look at the place!
Theyve turned it into a fucking prison
Jesus Christ. You never understood, did you? What did you want me to do? Turn my
back on the whole thing? You bring me up to believe in truth and charity and then
you want me to ignore whats going on in the world. You can napalm fucking
peasants to the shithouse and still receive communion on Sunday. The cops can
murder blacks in the streets but the rule of law still holds. Did you ever ask whose
law? Didnt you ever ask why you ate bread an dripping an them on the North
Shore fed steak to their dogs? Fuck me dead. If you wanted me to be anything else,
why didnt you just teach me how to cheat an swindle a fortune for myself an leave
it at that?
(Pause)
Why dont you say something to me, for Gods sake? Why didnt you ever say
anything to me? Were you frightened of me? Dont you think I needed you?

Faculty of the VCA and MCM, The University of Melbourne

Bachelor of Fine Art Music Theatre Audition Monologue 2015 Entry