The woman at the well monologue
Eliot , woman at the well. A dramatic monologue in poetry is not exactly the same type of speech as a soliloquy in the theatre. In a soliloquy the character is alone on stage speaking his thoughts aloud. There is no auditor other than the audience who is eavesdropping on those thoughts; although in a poetic dramatic monologue, the speaker could be alone talking aloud to himself, too.
SEE VIDEO BY TOPIC: Woman at the Well MonologueContent:
17 Dramatic Monologues For Women
The audition room can be a stressful place, and preparing for your shot in front of casting directors can be equally as daunting. Pick up your metaphorical sword and slay your next audition for a dramatic role by choosing a monologue that fits you. Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! You see, my mother was not of noble birth. She had very decided opinions against matrimony, and when my father courted her she declared that she would never be his wife—but she did so for all that.
At last my father must have awakened from his bewitched condition, for he revolted, and ran things according to his ideas. Then came the big fire which of course you have heard about. The house, the stables—everything was burned, under circumstances that pointed strongly to an incendiary, for the misfortune happened the day after the quarterly insurance was due and the premiums sent in by father were strangely delayed by his messenger so that they arrived too late. Take on the role of Cook County Jail diva, Velma Kelly, who recounts her murderous mishap involving her late husband and sister.
Now for the last number in our act, we did these 20 acrobatic tricks in a row, one, two, three, four, five…splits, spread eagles, flip flops, back flips, one right after the other. Well, I was in such a state of shock, I completely blacked out.
A little development that I dream of. Just off the interstate in a little suburb, far, far from urban Skid Row.
The sweetest, greenest place — where everybody has the same little lawn out front and the same little flagstone patio out back. Oh, I dream about it all the time. Just me. And the toaster. Monologue Length: — God bless her loving spirit. He was… silent. Broken really.
I come to this city by myself, worked my way North little by little, picking berries in every state until I get here. It was just about the best gift anybody give me.
It was as though God kissed my hands when I first pulled the fabric through the sewing machine and held up a finished garment. I discovered all I need in these fingers. I wanted you to know that about me. He could sing. But not the high notes.
So at school I had this teacher. Who taught the choir and the piano and the oboe, but the choir, so I know if you singing high up there you must think you breathing in, not out, as you go up… You understand? In, not out, and high as you like. So one night. In the car. I taught him. And right away, he could.
And you know what? He never sang to me again. O, where? There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.
Good friend, go to him; for, by this light of heaven, I know not how I lost him. And ever will—though he do shake me off To beggarly divorcement—love him dearly, Comfort forswear me!
Unkindness may do much; And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love. Fain would I dwell on form — fain, fain deny What I have spoke; but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully. Therefore pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered.
Channel your anguished inner queen with these words by Anne…. I wish it made clear to your master, and to all Europe, that a bill is going through Parliament which settles the succession of England on my children.
When a son is born to me he shall succeed to the throne of England. And my daughters are and shall be royal princesses. I want her made a bastard. You bill will make her a bastard.
You are worried about her cousin, the Emperor? Then I shall provoke him for you. I shall tell you, Ambassador, what will happen to Mary. The Princess Elizabeth is to have her own household and the bastard Mary will join it as her servant. She will go on her knees to my daughter. She will call my daughter Princess, or I shall make her suffer. Wingfield, she said.
I assured her she did, that you had been going to classes since early in January. She took the attendance book out and there was your name, unmistakably printed, and all the dates you were absent until they decided that you had dropped out of school. After that morning she never showed up any more. I felt so weak I could barely keep on my feet! I had to sit down while they got me a glass of water! And we used to fill them in with snow and make them smooth and slide down them all day…and it was very dangerous you know…far too steep…and sure enough one day a kid named Rufus came down too fast and hit the sidewalk…and we saw his face just split open right there in front of us…and I remember standing there looking at his bloody open face thinking that was the end of Rufus.
But the ambulance came and they took him to the hospital and they fixed the broken bones and they sewed it all up…and the next time I saw Rufus he just had a little line down the middle of his face…I never got over that….
That that was what one person could do for another, fix him up—sew up the problem, make him all right again. That was the most marvelous thing in the world…I wanted to do that. I always thought it was the one concrete thing in the world that human being could do.
Fix up the sick, you know—and make them whole again. I mean, of course, when Torvald is no longer as devoted to me as he is now; when my dancing and dressing-up and reciting have palled on him; then it may be a good thing to have something in reserve—[Breaking off.
That time will never come. Now, what do you think of my great secret, Christine? Do you still think I am of no use? I can tell you, too, that this affair has caused me a lot of worry.
It has been by no means easy for me to meet my engagements punctually. I may tell you that there is something that is called, in business, quarterly interest, and another thing called payment in installments, and it is always so dreadfully difficult to manage them. I have had to save a little here and there, where I could, you understand. I have not been able to put aside much from my housekeeping money, for Torvald must have a good table.
When I was sixteen, I made the discovery—love. All at once and much, much too completely. But I was unlucky. He came to me for help. Then I found out. In the worst of all possible ways. I ran out—all did! Then somebody caught my arm. Come back! See what! Then I heard voices say—Allan! The Grey boy! I know! It blots thy beauty as frosts do bite the meads, Confounds thy fame as whirlwinds shake fair buds, And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman moved is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty, And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it. Conquer this traditional dramatic monologue at your next audition. Young, handsome; these he put last; but I put them foremost. Sensible, good-natured; I like all that.
Voices from the Bible: Monologues for Women
Find us on. Before you peruse the monologues below If you are out there and struggling remember, you still have your love of acting and theatre, your creativity, your sense of play I know I did! Here you will find monologues for women, men, teens, young adults and seniors.
The audition room can be a stressful place, and preparing for your shot in front of casting directors can be equally as daunting. Pick up your metaphorical sword and slay your next audition for a dramatic role by choosing a monologue that fits you. Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!
The Samaritan Woman’s Testimony
The following monologue depicts the perspective of the "other" in such an encounter: the Samaritan Woman at the Well John The sun, hot and bright, breaks through the window onto his back. Grey hairs curl on his shoulders and turn silver in the first strokes of daylight. He wakes, lurching to sit up, and grabs sandals and tunic, cursing the hour. I say nothing as he dresses. Waste no powerless words. Somehow you knew. Knew that my first marriage was to a man three times my age. I was a girl of fifteen and despite my pleading, my Father arranged it. Mother met my protests with stern rebuke.
Genre: Dramedy. The monologues include women from both the Old and the New Testaments and have relevant references to passages in the bible. The monologues range from the inspirational to reflections on life, to the comic and satiric and include:. Instead, seek his kingdom, and these things shall be yours as well.
Feb 27, Monologue: Another Woman at the Well. It was written by Mark Diller Harder. Another Woman at the Well.
A continuation of the monologues our congregation has been hearing through the season of Lent. Sitting at the well. I came at this time of day — high, hot noon — just to avoid those deeply personal kind of conversations. Everyone else goes at evening to collect water — chatting, laughing, bustling.
It has always been well received. The actor who plays the part should not underestimate the amount of preparation time needed to portray the character—it is an emotionally and physically draining role. The length of the monologue requires creative blocking, and lighting effects add to the presentation. I take no credit for this script. I wept as I wrote her.