Theatre Monologues for Teenagers | Monologue Database

Theatre Monologues for Teenagers

Written by on | Monologues For Actors

It can be so frustrating when you’re trying to hunt down the perfect monologue and all the meaty good stuff just doesn’t seem to fit your playing range and age. If you’re a teenager or young adult who’s trying to find that next great theatre audition monologue, here’s a whole bunch of firecracker monologues that will actually suit your age! If a monologue here takes your fancy, it’s a great idea to get your hands on the play from your local bookshop or library so that you have a good understanding of the play as a whole. Enjoy sinking your teeth into these theatre monologues for teens!

Read more: Screen Monologues for Teens

Female Theatre Monologues for Teens

Dry Land (Ruby Rae Speigel)

I’ve been sleeping in my swimsuit. I’ve been sleeping in my swimsuit. For superstitious reasons. I haven’t taken it off for a week. Because of this thing tomorrow. Swimming for the coach. One day he’s going to come watch me at a meet, and the next he wants me to come swim my best while he’s taping me from under the water, like invading all that space. And I’ve only seen his face once on a website, like a weird confusing blue website. And this is the only place I’m getting recruited for because a year and a half ago I had this thing where I couldn’t swim for like three months so all the other schools dropped me. And I have a rash. Like a really bad rash. I think. I haven’t seen it. I mean whatever. I’m not trying to make you feel bad for me,I’m just saying that I’m not like physically fit and smiling. I just. My mom is out of town, and her boyfriend is a car salesman with a kid. Who I hate. And I haven’t spoken to my best friend who might be my ex-best friend, I don’t know, we haven’t spoken in a week and she’s not coming to practice so, I told you. Do you feel special?

Dry Land (Ruby Rae Speigel)

I used to hang out a lot at the Rock Shop. You know the store by the freeway where you can crack rocks that look like regular dull rocks but actually have this crazy dyed crystal stuff on the inside? I used to hang out there all the time and crack rocks. And hang out with the boys who worked behind the counter and then I went through puberty and they told me that I couldn’t crack the rocks anymore. That it was weird for someone my age with the way I look to be cracking rocks while kids had birthday parties. So you know what I did? I replaced some of the rocks with regular rocks, like from my yard. I never went back to see what happened but I bet they really had to explain when the birthday boy or whatever cracked this big rock and all there was, was more rock. That there wasn’t anything special hiding underneath that it was just more rock.

The Diary of Anne Frank (Albert Hackett & Frances Goodrich)

Look, Peter, the sky. What a lovely, lovely day! Aren’t the clouds beautiful? You know what I do when it seems as if I couldn’t stand being cooped up for one more minute? I think myself out. I think myself on a walk in the park where I used to go with Pim. Where the jonquils and the crocus and the violets grow down the slopes. You know the most wonderful part about thinking yourself out? You can have it any way you like. You can have roses and violets and chrysanthemums all blooming at the same time? It’s funny. I used to take it all for granted. And now I’ve gone crazy about everything to do with nature. Haven’t you? I wish you had a religion, Peter. Oh, I don’t mean you have to be Orthodox, or believe in heaven and hell and purgatory and things. I just mean some religion. It doesn’t matter what. Just to believe in something! When I think of all that’s out there. The trees. And flowers. And seagulls. When I think of the dearness of you, Peter. And the goodness of people we know, all risking their lives for us every day. When I think of these good things, I’m not afraid anymore. I find myself, and God, and I… We’re not the only people have had to suffer. There’ve always been people that’ve had to. Sometimes one race, sometimes another, and yet…I know it’s terrible, trying to have any faith when people are doing such horrible things, but you know what I sometimes think? I think the world may be going through a phase, the way I was with Mother. It’ll pass, maybe not for hundreds of years, but someday I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are really good at heart. Peter, if you’d only look at it as part of a great pattern. That we’re just a little minute in the life? Listen to us, going at each other like a couple of stupid grownups! Look at the sky now. Isn’t it lovely?


A Property of the Clan (Nick Enright)

I play the song for you…every time I come. The paper said somebody nicked your flowers. People are really off. But they’re planting a tree for you at the front of the school tomorrow at lunchtime. But you probably know that now. I bet you know a lot of things now. I should have been there with you Trace. A few times that night I thought I might sneak out. I really wanted to. Mum was reading in her room and I was just watching TV, I could have just left it on, sneaked out, come and found you. But I didn’t. And I keep thinking, if I had, would it have been different? Nobody seems to say anything straight. All these rumours go round and I just want to yell out, “this is Tracey you’re talking about! She was here last week – working at the Pizza Hut, going to netball, catching the ferry. She was one of us!” I wish I kept them earrings. I woke up that night, faces looking down at me. I should have known. When I went round your place on Sunday and I saw the cop cars and the guys from Channel – I should have realised. You were calling to me. That nightmare, it wasn’t one, it was you calling. The faces – they were guy’s faces, and I knew them all. The cops came round our place too, Mum was spewing. They’re going to interview everyone who was at the party. 70 kids they’re gonna talk to. But no one can talk to you. You can talk to me. Tracey – please talk to me.

Cowboy Mouth (Sam Shepard)

You’re so neat. You’re such a neat guy. I wish I woulda known you when I was little. Not real little. But at the age when you start finding out stuff. When I was cracking rocks apart and looking at their sparkles inside. I would’ve took you to this real neat hideout I had where I made a waterfall with tires and shit, and my own hut. We could’ve taken all our clothes off, and I’d look at your dinger, and you could show me how far you could piss. I bet you would have protected me. People were always giving me shit. Ya know what? Once I was in a play. I was real glad I was in a play ‘cause I thought they were just for pretty people, and I had my dumb eyepatch and those metal plate shoes to correct my duck foot. It was The Ugly Duckling, and I really dug that cause of the happy ending and shit. And I got to be the ugly duckling, and I had to wear some old tattered black cloth and get shit flung at me, but I didn’t mind ‘cause at the end I’d be that pretty swan and all. But you know what they did, Slim? At the end of the play I had to kneel on the stage and cover my head with a black shawl and this real pretty blonde-haired girl dressed in a white ballet dress rose up behind me as the swan. It was really shitty, man. I never got to be the fucking swan. I paid all the dues and up rose ballerina Cathy like the North Star. And afterwards all the parents could talk about was how pretty she looked. Boy, I ran to my hideout and cried and cried. The lousy fucks. I wish you were around then. I bet you would’ve protected me.

Dags (Debra Oswald)

All right. I’m going to admit something I never thought I’d admit to anyone ever. I’ve got a crush on Adam. Head over heels. Uncontrollable passion, etcetera. Unrequited passion, of course. Now I know this sounds like I’m throwing away everything I’ve said so far. And I guess I am. I know every girl at school except Monica is in love with him. I know he’d never go for a dag like me. I know it’s hopeless. I know all that. But I can’t help it. Just thinking he might look at me, my heart starts pounding like mad. And then I worry about whether he can tell my heart’s going crazy, and I have to act really cool. This crush – it’s like a disease. Do you know – oh, I’m almost too embarrassed to admit this – Adam misses the bus sometimes. ‘Cos he’s chatting up some girl or something. And do you know what I do? I get off the bus after one stop and walk back to school, so I can hang round the bus stop hoping he’ll turn up. Just so I can ride on the same bus with him. Isn’t that the most pathetic think you’ve ever heard? I’m crazy. I can lie here for hours thinking about him. Writing these movies in my head where Adam and me are the stars. I try to imagine how he’d notice me and fall hopelessly in love with me and all that. Like, one of my favourites is that the bus breaks down one day in this remote place and there we are stranded together. He discovers that I was this really fascinating woman all along. Far more interesting than all those silly girls at school. But – I say that I can’t bear to be just another notch on his belt. So Adam has to beg me to go out with him. Grovel almost. That’s a pretty over-the-top version.


Silent Disco (Lachlan Philpott)

I look around and see everyone in their own little world smiling- everyone dancing to their own tune not giving a fuck what anyone elsehas playing in their ears. For one whole song everything like that. You and me dance like everyone else, no-one tells us we shouldn’t be there, no one tells us we are dancing the wrong steps or we don’t know shit. The Carnie winks at me and I look back at you Squid. We face each other in the silent disco. I look at your eyes-your tough eyes aren’t tough aren’t hard they’re smiling. Right there and then-everything else blown away-just you and me Squid. You so close I feel you breathe. We’ve never danced like this before. You reach out and pull me closer to you. The way you pull me in-makes me feel like I’m the best thing in the world.


When I was a Girl I used to Scream and Shout (Sharman Macdonald)

Last week, I was on the bus, upstairs. I was going to see Dorothy and this girl up the front, she started having a fit or something. Must have been the heat. There were lots of people there between her and me but they, none of them… I went over to her and did what I could. She was heavy. I’d heard about them biting through their tongues. Epileptics. It wasn’t pretty. Me and this other bloke took her to the hospital. But I saw her first. He wouldn’t have done anything if I hadn’t. I didn’t get to see Dorothy. Well? That’s worth something, isn’t it? God. Are you listening? I’m not trying to bribe you. It’s plain economics. I mean, I’ve made a mistake. It was my fault and I was wrong. I take it all on me. OK. Now if you let it make me pregnant… God. Listen, will you. If I’m pregnant it’ll ruin four people’s lives. Five. Right? My Mum’ll be disappointed and her man’ll walk out on her. That’s two. Are you with me, God? I’ll not be very happy. My mother’ll hate me for the rest of my life for what I’ve done and that’s not easy to live with. That’s three. I’m still counting, God. Ewan’ll be in for it. Well, he can’t avoid it. I’m illegal and I’ve never been out with anybody else. Not that nobody fancied me. I wouldn’t like to think I was unpopular. Lots of people fancied me. My mum said I had to wait till I was sixteen. Then she relented just when Ewan happened to be there. Poor old Ewan. That’s four, God, that’s four. Then there’s the baby. If it’s there and if I have it it’s got no chance. It would be born in Scotland. Still there, are you? I hate Scotland. I mean, look at me. If I have an abortion the baby’ll be dead so that’ll be five anyway.


Eclipsed (Danai Gurira)

The Girl:
I cursed. She curse me, she say, she say “Devil bless you,” and now I, I, I can’t remember whot my moda she look like! I can’t remember! I go, I go get de gals like I always do afta fighting, but dis one, she looking all nice in ha nice cloth, she acting like she betta dan me, I wanted ha to shut ha mout’, to show me respec’. She kept saying, “Devil bless you!” Now she keep coming back to say dat to me, in my head, she won’t shut up her mouth! Den I say okay, I can fight this ting, I just remember my moda saying, “God bless you”— and dis thing gonna disappear. Den, den, I can’t see my moda no more! I can’t hear my moda no more! I just hear dis gal! I had just wanted to shut ha up. I tought…I tought…It neva happen like dat before, I got system. De men have to come to me and discuss which gal dey want, I give dem one. I tell dem—dis gal special, she your wife, she only go wit’ you. But wit’ dis one—I didn’t protec’ ha like I usually do—I just let dem tek ha, because she woz talking too much. Dey do it right in front of us at de camp, dey don’t care, dey don’t care dat God right dere, dat He can see whot dey do. Dey just keep jumpin’ and jumpin’ on ha, it five o’ dem and I see she too small, she just little, small small den me. I want to say stop but I scare dey gon’ come to me if I say sometin’. I see she stressed, she start to vomit — it look like rice or oats or sometin’, den ha eyes start goin’ back. I can’t move; den, den ha eyes just go still, she starting right up to de sky and she not moving; de fifth one he just keep going till he done. She got blood everywhere, dey leave ha lying dere and tell one o’ de small soldier to go get wata so dey can wash deyselves, dey tell me and anoda small soldier to trow ha in de riva, I just do like dey say, I too scare to say nothing. I tek ha armsand he tek ha legs, she still bleedin’ and bleedin’, ha eyes still looking up, I no look at ha no more. We drop ha in de riva and I pray. I pray dat God bless ha soul, dat He no blame me fore whot dosemen do. But it my fault she dead, and she tell me, “Devil bless you,” and now I can’t even see my moda no more! I cursed. I got dis sin on me and I gon’ go to de devil straight.

The Crucible (Arthur Miller)

I cannot bear lewd looks no more, John. My spirit’s changed entirely. I ought to be given Godly looks when I suffer for them as I do. Look at my leg. I’m holes all over from their damned needles and pins. The jab your wife gave me’s not healed yet, y’know. And George Jacobs comes again and again and raps me with his stick – the same spot every night all this week. Looks at the lump I have.

Oh John, the world’s so full of hypocrites! They pray in jail, I’m told they pray in jail! And torture me in my bed while sacred words are coming from their mouths! It will need God Himself to cleanse this town properly. If I live, if I am not murdured, I will surely cry out others until the last hypocrite is dead!

But John, you taught me goodness, therefore you are good. It were a fire you walked me through and all my ignorance was burned away. It were a fire, John, we lay in fire. And from that night no woman called me wicked any more but I knew my answer. I used to weep for my sins when the wind lifted up my skirts; and blushed for shame because some old Rebecca called me loose. And then you burned my ignorance away. As bare as some December tree I saw them all – walking like saints to church, running to feed the sick, and hypocrites in their hearts! And God gave me strength to call them liars and God made men listen to me, and by God, I will scrub the world clean for the love of Him! John, I will make you such a wife when the world is white again! You will be amazed to see me every day, a light of heaven in your house!


The Little Foxes (Lillian Hellman)

Mama, I’m not coming with you. I’m not going to Chicago. I mean what I say with all my heart. There is nothing to talk about. I’m going away from you. Because I want to. Because I know Papa would want me to. Say it, Mama, say it. And see what happens. That would be foolish. It wouldn’t work in the end. You only change your mind when you want to. And I won’t want to. You couldn’t, Mama, because I want to leave here. As I’ve never wanted anything in my life before. Because I understand what Papa was trying to tell me.

All in one day: Addie said there were people who ate the earth and other people who stood around and watched them do it. And just now Uncle Ben said the same thing. Really, he said the same thing. Well, tell him for me, Mama, I’m not going to stand around and watch you do it. Tell him I’ll be fighting as hard as he’ll be fighting some place where people don’t just stand around and watch. Are you afraid, Mama?


Romeo and Juliet (William Shakespeare)

Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,
When I, thy three hours’ wife, have mangled it?
But wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
That villain cousin would have killed my husband.
Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring.
Your tributary drops belong to woe,
Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain,
And Tybalt’s dead, that would have slain my husband.
All this is comfort. Wherefore weep I then?
Some word there was, worser than Tybalt’s death,
That murdered me. I would forget it fain,
But oh, it presses to my celebration,
Like damnèd guilty deeds to sinners’ minds.
“Tybalt is dead, and Romeo banishèd.”


Male Theatre Monologues for Teens

Fences (August Wilson)

I live here too! I ain’t scared of you. I was walking by you to go into the house cause you sitting on the steps drunk, singing to yourself. I ain’t got to say excuse me to you. You don’t count around here any more. Now why don’t you just get out my way. You talking about what you did for me… what’d you ever give me? You ain’t never gave me nothing. You ain’t never done nothing but hold me back. Afraid I was gonna be better than you. All you ever did was try and make me scared of you. I used to tremble every time you called my name. Every time I heard your footsteps in the house. Wondering all the time… what’s Papa gonna say if I do this?… What’s he gonna say if I do that?… What’s he gonna say if I turn on the radio? And Mama, too… she tries… but she’s scared of you. I don’t know how she stand you… after what you did to her. What you gonna do… give me a whupping? You can’t whup me no more. You’re too old. You’re just an old man. You crazy. You know that? You just a crazy old man… talking about I got the devil in me. Come on… put me out. I ain’t scare of you. Come on! Come on, put me out. What’s the matter? You so bad… put me out! Come on! Come on!


Lord of the Flies (William Golding)

What makes things break up like they do? I mean, what is wrong with people? Let’s go to the other side of the island to hunt and have fun…and die here on this bloody island!? Doesn’t anyone care about getting rescued?! The fire should always be the number one priority! If it wasn’t for Jack, I would probably be at home right now…

My hair… it’s so long… I mean, I can barely see. And I can barely get my fingers through it. My clothes… they’re like cardboard. The salt… it’s everywhere. Look at my nails. I would do anything for a bar of soap… anything just to have a bath. Look at my face… look at me! I probably look like one of Jack’s hunters with all this dirt. Stupid face painting…as if they think it actually helped them catch that boar. I could be home right now. I could off this island with mom and dad and…

Mom always told me that sometimes things are better left unsaid and I have tried. I have tried to reason with him. I don’t understand. I was voted chief fair and square. He always says I am afraid and I am sometimes. But who wouldn’t be? Even Jack looked scared when he ran down that mountain. But of course, he will never admit that. What did I ever do to Jack? Why do you hate me, Jack?

I just wanted to work together, get things done on this island, and do everything we can to be rescued. But he doesn’t seem to care. I know he has a family; doesn’t he want to see them? And he is such a show-off: “I cut the pig’s throat, I spilled her blood” So what Jack?! Is that going to get us rescued? Of course not. The fire will. It is our only hope. Only no one understands that. Well, Piggy does, but Piggy understands everything, but it doesn’t matter anyway. There was a ship…

Supposed I stopped caring? Just like the others. Only Piggy seems to care… and I need more than Piggy on my side…So maybe I should forget the fire, put mud and blood on my face and join the rest of them. They seem to be having fun. And they probably have eaten lots of meat. Some meat would taste really good right now… So maybe I should stop caring too…


I’ve Come About the Assassination (Tony Morphett)

Young Man:
Violent? Violent, are we? Tell me what else we’ve ever been shown, Dad. Eh Dad? Eh? What else have we ever seen, eh? Teenager ordered the bomb dropped on Hiroshima, eh Dad? Bit of a kid worked out the answer to the Jewish problem, eh Dad? All you kids. All so violent. You were a violent kid, Dad, weren’t you? Fighting in the revolution. Cutting people’s throats an all. Who was it told you to cut the throats, Dad? Teenager was it? Or was it some old bastard with a grey moustache and one foot in the grave? Eh, Dad? Eh? Who nutted out the area bombing in Germany? Who worked out the flying bombs for England? Who said for every one bomb that drops on our kids, we’ll drop ten on theirs? Rotten pimply-faced teenage hooligans, wasn’t it? Eh, Dad? You know why you say we’re violent? Because some of us have taken a wake-up to you. I wouldn’t swat a fly for you or anyone else your age. But if I needed to, for myself, I’d cut God’s throat. I’m not killing for old men in parliaments. I’m killing for myself. And do you know why, Dad? Because all along, right down the line from the man with the club killing on the witchdoctor’s say-so, right through to the poor helpless bastards spitted on bayonets in what a warm, fat bishop could call a just war, right down the line, there’s always been another generation of kids to send off to get killed. But this is it. Since that bomb. If we muff it, it …. is … this … generation … that… picks … up … the …cheque. So that’s why I’m not listening to anyone but me. And for all sorts of confused reasons, I am going to kill that man in the car.


Gruesome Playground Injuries (Ravij Joseph)

You know what, Kayleen? Jesus Christ, you know, I came to your house last year and your dad was there, and I know he hates my guts, he always has, and he’s like She is where she is. I don’t know where the girl is. He said he didn’t care and didn’t care to know. And I was about to just leave, but I didn’t. I didn’t and I said to that son of a bitch… You remember, asshole? You dead piece of shit!? You remember what I said to you!? I said to him, you are fucking worthless. You have a daughter and she is a gift from God. She is the most perfect being to ever walk this earth and you don’t even know it. And she loves you because you’re her stupid father. But you’ve never loved her back, you’ve just damaged her and fucked her up, and never bothered to notice she’s this angel. So fuck you, cocksucker. And then I told him I hoped he’d die alone. Which he did. So I feel a little guilty about that now. I can take care of you, Leenie.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime (Simon Stephens)

I remember the 20th of July 2008. I was 9 years old. It was a Saturday. We were on holiday in Cornwall. We were on the beach in a place called Polperro. Mother was wearing a pair of shorts made out of denim and a stripy blue swimming costume, and she was smoking cigarettes called Consulate, which were mint flavour. And she wasn’t swimming. She was sunbathing on a towel, which had red and purple stripes and she was reading a book by Georgette Heyer called the Masqueraders. And then she finished sunbathing and went into the water and said, “Bloody Nora it’s cold.” And she said I should come and swam too, but I didn’t like swimming because I don’t like taking my clothes off. And she said I should just roll my trousers up and walk into the water a little way. So I did. And mother said, “Christopher! Look it’s lovely.” And she jumped backwards and disappeared under the water, and I thought a shark had eaten her and I thought a shark had eaten her and I screamed. And then she stood out of the water and came over to where I was standing and held up her right hand and spread out her fingers like a fan. “Come on Christopher, touch my hand. Come on now. Stop screaming. Touch my hand. Listen to me, Christopher. You can do it. It’s OK Christopher. It’s OK. There aren’t any sharks in Cornwall.”


Punk Rock (Simon Stephens)

Human beings are pathetic. Everything human beings do finishes up bad in the end. Everything good human beings ever make is built on something monstrous. Nothing lasts. We certainly won’t. We could have made something really extraordinary and we won’t. We’ve been around one hundred thousand years. We’ll have died out before the next two hundred. You know what we’ve got to look forward to? You know what will define the next two hundred years? Religions will become brutalised; crime rates will become hysterical; everybody will become addicted to internet sex; suicidewill become fashionable; there’ll be famine; there’ll be floods; there’ll be fires in the major cities of the Western world. Our education systems will become battered. Our health services unsustainable; our police forces unmanageable; our governments corrupt. There’ll be open brutality in the streets; there’ll be nuclear war; massive depletion of resources on every level; insanely increasing third-world population. It’s happening already. It’s happening now. Thousands die every summer from floods in the Indian monsoon season. Africans from Senegal wash up on the beaches of the Mediterranean and get looked after by guilty holidaymakers. Somalians wait in hostels in Malta or prison islands north of Australia. Hundreds die of heat or fire every year in Paris. Or California. Or Athens. The oceans will rise. The cities will flood. The power stations will flood. Airports will flood. Species will vanish forever. Including ours. So if you think I’m worried by you calling me names, Bennet, you little, little boy, you are fucking kidding yourself.


Away (Michael Gow)

Yeah, that’s what I had. An infection. Everyone knew I had some infection. I was sick. I was told the infection was running its course. That I had to fight. I did. One day a doctor came and sat on my bed and had a long talk with me. He told me that before I got completely well again I would get a lot worse, get really, really sick. And no matter how sick I got not to worry because it meant that soon I’d start to get well again. He was full of shit. He couldn’t look me in the face to say it. He stared at the cabinet next to the bed the whole time. And the nurses were really happy whenever they were near me, but when I stared them in the face, in the end they’d look away and bite their lips. When I was able to go home the doctor took me into his office and we had another talk. I had to look after myself. No strain, no dangerous activity. Keep my spirits up. Then he went very quiet, leant over the desk, practically whispering how if I knew a girl it’d be good for me to do it, to try it. ‘It’, he kept calling it. It, it. I put him on the spot. What? Name it. Give it a name. He cleared his throat. ‘Sexual intercourse’. But if I was worried about going all the way I could experiment with mutual masturbation. Know what that is?

Blackrock (Nick Enright)

You back me up, I’ll back you up. Then whatever happened we’re not in it. I know you didn’t kill her! I did. I fucken killed her.

Shana come on to me, then she backed off. Spider says it’s a full moon, heaps of other chicks down the beach, take anyone on. I knew which ones were up for it, mate. We both did. We checked them out together. And they were checking us out, weren’t they? You and me and every other prick. The whole fucken netball squad. So, I get out there. Wazza’s getting head from some bush-pig up against the dunny wall. One of them young babes, Leanne? I don’t know, comes running up to me, calls my name, Ricko, hey, Ricko! She grabs me, pashes me off. She’s on, no, she’s fucken not, she’s with some fucken grommet, he takes her off down the south end. I head towards the rock. I hear my name again. Ricko. Ricko. It’s Tracy. Tracy Warner. I go, right, Jared was here. It’s cool. I’ll take his seconds. She’s on her hands and knees. Says will I help her. She’s lost an earring, belongs to Cherie, she has to give it back. There’s something shiny hanging off the back of her T-shirt. I grab it, I say, here it is. She can’t see it. I give it to her. I say what are you going to give me? She says she’s going home, she’s hurting. I say hurting from what? Guys, she says, those guys. Take me home, Ricko. Tells me I’m a legend, says she feels okay with me. Look after me, Ricko. Take me home. Puts her arms around me. I put mine round her. I feel okay now, Ricko. She feels more than okay. I say I’ll take you home, babe, but first things first. I lay her down on the sand, but she pushes me off. Oh, she likes it rough. I give it to her rough. Then she fucken bites me, kicks me in the nuts. My hand comes down on a rock…A rock in one hand and her earring in the other.

It was like it just happened. The cops wouldn’t buy that, but. Would they? Now if I was with you…Will you back me up mate? You got to. You got to. Please. Please, Jazza.


Romeo and Juliet (William Shakespeare)

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 region 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!

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StageMilk Team

is made up of professional actors, acting coaches and writers from around the world. This team includes Andrew, Alex, Emma, Jake, Jake, Indiana, Patrick and more. We all work together to contribute useful articles and resources for actors at all stages in their careers.

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