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Kiwanis Music Festival of
Sudbury
SPEECH ARTS AND DRAMA
Entry deadline – January 15
School deadline – January 31
Level: Senior
Memory IS required
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Props are NOT PERMITTED except for a single chair if performer prefers to deliver
from a seated position
Selections recommended below are approximately 2 - 3 min. in length.
DRAMA (FEMALE)
Age group
Description
17 years and over Choose ONE(1) of the following:
SENIOR
Class Code
Fee
SAD-17-DF
$22.00
Agamemnon
By Aeschylus
NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from The Dramas of Aeschylus. Trans. Anna
Swanwick. London: George Bell and Sons, 1907.
Clytemnestra: Men of our city, Argive elders here,
I shame not in your presence to avow
My wifely temper; bashful Fear in time
From mortals dieth: not by others taught,
But from myself, the wretched life I'll tell
'Twas mine to lead while this man was at Troy.
First, for a woman severed from her mate,
To sit forlorn at home is grievous woe,
Hearing malignant murmurs manifold.
One courier comes, another in his train
Worse tidings brings to echo through the house;
And as for wounds, had my dear lord received
As many as report kept pouring in,
A net methinks had not been more transpierced.
Or had he died oft as reported then,
A second triple-bodied Geryon,
A threefold cloak of earth he must have donned,
Enduring death in every form he wore.
Thus harassed by these ever-rife reports,
Full often from my neck have forceful hands
Seized and untied the beam-suspended noose.
And for this cause our son, pledge of our troth,
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♫
Kiwanis Music Festival of
Sudbury
Entry deadline – January 15
School deadline – January 31
Of mine and thine, stands not beside me now,
As stand he should, Orestes. Marvel not,
For him thy trusty spear-guest nourisheth;
Strophius, the Phocian, who hath me forewarned
Of twofold peril, thine 'neath Ilion's wall,
And next lest clamour-fostered Anarchy
Hazard the plot, for 'tis with men inborn
To trample further him already down.
This pretext, trust me, carries no deceit.
But for myself the gushing founts of grief
Are all dried up, no single tear is left;
Sore with late watching are my weary eyes,
Weeping the fiery beacons set for thee
Neglected ever. Often from my dreams
Was I awakened by the tiny hum
Of buzzing gnat, seeing, endured by thee,
More woes than could have filled mine hour of sleep.
These sorrows past, now with a heart unwrung
I hail my husband, watchdog of the fold,
Sure forestay of the ship; of lofty roof
Pillar firm based; Sire's sole-begotten child;
Land beyond hope looming to mariners;
Day after storm most brilliant to behold;
To thirsty wayfarer clear gushing spring.
Sooth, sweet it is to 'scape from harsh constraint;
With such addresses do I honour him.
Let Envy stand aloof! for we have borne
Ere this full many a woe. Now dear my lord
Come from thy car; but on the ground, O King,
Plant not the foot that trampled Ilion.
Maidens, why tarry ye, whose duty 'tis
With carpets to bespread his stepping-floor?
Swift, purple-strew his passage to a home
Unlooked for, e'en as Justice may conduct;
What further she decreeth with the gods,
Thought, not by sleep o'ermastered, shall dispose.
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♫
Kiwanis Music Festival of
Sudbury
Entry deadline – January 15
School deadline – January 31
Senior Female Drama (SAD-17-DF)
b) The Cherry Orchard
By Anton Chekhov
NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from Two Plays of Tchekhof. Trans. George
Calderon. London: Grant Richards Ltd., 1912.
Madame Ranevsky: [Deeply agitated] Why doesn't Leoníd
come? Oh, if only I knew whether the property's sold or not! It
seems such an impossible disaster, that I don't know what to think.
. . . I'm bewildered . . . I shall burst out screaming, I shall do
something idiotic. Save me, Peter; say something to me, say
something. You can see what's truth and untruth, but I seem to
have lost the power of vision; I see nothing. You settle every
important question so boldly; but tell me, Peter, isn't that because
you're young, because you have never solved any question of your
own as yet by suffering? You look boldly ahead; isn't it only that
you don't see or divine anything terrible in the future; because life
is still hidden from your young eyes? You are bolder, honester,
deeper than we are, but reflect, show me just a finger's breadth of
consideration, take pity on me. Don't you see? I was born here, my
father and mother lived here, and my grandfather; I loved this
house; without the cherry orchard my life has no meaning for me,
and if it must be sold, then for heaven's sake sell me too! My little
boy was drowned here. Be gentle with me, dear, kind Peter. I am
so wretched today, you can't imagine! All this noise jars on me,
my heart jumps at every sound. I tremble all over; but I can't shut
myself up; I am afraid of the silence when I'm alone. Don't be hard
on me, Peter; I love you like a son. I would gladly let Anya marry
you, I swear it; but you must work, Peter; you must get your
degree. You do nothing; Fate tosses you about from place to place;
and that's not right. It's true what I say, isn't it? And you must do
something to your beard to make it grow better. I can't help
laughing at you. [Showing him a telegraph] It's a telegram from
Paris. I get them every day. One came yesterday, another today.
That savage is ill again; he's in a bad way. . . . He asks me to
forgive him, he begs me to come; and I really ought to go to Paris
and be with him. You look at me sternly; but what am I to do,
Peter? What am I to do? He's ill, he's lonely, he's unhappy. Who is
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♫
Kiwanis Music Festival of
Sudbury
Entry deadline – January 15
School deadline – January 31
to look after him? Who is to keep him from doing stupid things?
Who is to give him his medicine when it's time? After all, why
should I be ashamed to say it? I love him, that's plain. I love him, I
love him. . . . My love is like a stone tied round my neck; it's
dragging me down to the bottom; but I love my stone. I can't live
without it. Don't think ill of me, Peter; don't say anything! Don't
say anything!
Senior Female Drama (SAD-17-DF)
c) Enigma
By Floyd Dell
NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from King Arthur’s Socks and Other Village Plays.
Floyd Dell. New York: Alfred Knopf, 1922.
She: I know you hate me. You have a right to. Not just because I
was faithless--but because I was cruel. I don't want to excuse
myself--but I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't realize I was
hurting you. Yes. I've said that before. And you've answered me
that that excuse might hold for the first time, but not for the second
and the third. You've convicted me of deliberate cruelty on that.
And I've never had anything to say. I couldn't say anything,
because the truth was ... too preposterous. It wasn't any use telling
it before. But now I want you to know the real reason. Something
I've never confessed to you. Yes. It is true that I was cruel to you-deliberately. I did want to hurt you. And do you know why? I
wanted to shatter that Olympian serenity of yours. You were too
strong, too self-confident. You had the air of a being that nothing
could hurt. You were like a god. You are still Olympian. And I
still hate you for it. I wish I could make you suffer now. But I have
lost my power to do that. You sit there--making phrases. Oh, I
have hurt you a little; but you will recover. You always recovered
quickly. You are not human. If you were human, you would
remember that we once were happy, and be a little sorry that all
that is over. But you can't be sorry. You have made up your mind,
and can think of nothing but that. do you remember when we fell
in love? No--it happened to me. It didn't happen to you. You made
up your mind and walked in, with the air of a god on a holiday. It
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♫
Kiwanis Music Festival of
Sudbury
Entry deadline – January 15
School deadline – January 31
was I who fell--headlong, dizzy, blind. I didn't want to love you. It
was a force too strong for me. It swept me into your arms. I prayed
against it. I had to give myself to you, even though I knew you
hardly cared. I had to--for my heart was no longer in my own
breast. It was in your hands, to do what you liked with. You could
have thrown it in the dust. It pleased you not to. You put it in your
pocket. But don't you realize what it is to feel that another person
has absolute power over you? No, for you have never felt that way.
You have never been utterly dependent on another person for
happiness. I was utterly dependent on you. It humiliated me,
angered me. I rebelled against it, but it was no use. I was in love
with you. And you were free, and your heart was your own, and
nobody could hurt you. When I found out that I could hurt you, I
could hardly believe it. It wasn't possible. Why, you had said a
thousand times that you would not be jealous if I were in love with
some one else, too. It was you who put the idea in my head. It
seemed a part of your super-humanness. And the moment I first
realized that it might be hurting you--that you were human after
all--I stopped. You know I stopped. Can't you understand? I
stopped because I thought you were a person like myself, suffering
like myself. It wasn't easy to stop. It tore me to pieces. But I
suffered rather than let you suffer. And then when I saw you
recover your serenity in a day while the love that I had struck
down in my heart for your sake cried out in a death agony for
months, I felt again that you were superior, inhuman--and I hated
you for it. And when the next time came, I wanted to see if it was
real, this godlike serenity of yours. I wanted to tear off the mask. I
wanted to see you suffer as I had suffered. And that is why I was
cruel to you the second time. And the third. There will be no more
joy or pain of love for me. You do not believe that. But that part of
me which loves is dead. Do you think I have come through all this
unhurt? No. I cannot hope any more, I cannot believe. There is
nothing left for me. All I have left is regret for the happiness that
you and I have spoiled between us ... Oh, why did you ever teach
me your Olympian philosophy? Why did you make me think that
we were gods and could do whatever we chose? If we had realized
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♫
Kiwanis Music Festival of
Sudbury
Entry deadline – January 15
School deadline – January 31
that we were only weak human beings, we might have saved our
happiness!
Senior Female Drama (SAD-17-DF)
d) The Seagull
By Anton Chekhov
NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from Two Plays of Tchekhof. Trans. George
Calderon. London: Grant Richards Ltd., 1912.
Nina: Men and lions, eagles and partridges, antlered deer, geese,
spiders, the silent fishes dwelling in the water, star-fish and tiny
creatures invisible to the eye--these and every form of life, ay,
every form of life, have ended their melancholy round and become
extinct. . . . Thousands of centuries have passed since this earth
bore any living being on its bosom. All in vain does yon pale
moon light her lamp. No longer do the cranes wake and cry in the
meadows; the hum of the cockchafers is silent in the linden groves.
All is cold, cold, cold. Empty, empty, empty. Terrible, terrible,
terrible. [A pause] The bodies of living beings have vanished into
dust; the Eternal Matter has converted them into stones, into water,
into clouds; and all their spirits are merged in one. I am that spirit,
the universal spirit of the world. In me is the spirit of Alexander
the Great, of Caesar, of Shakespeare, of Napoleon, and the
meanest of the leeches. In me the consciousness of men is merged
with the instinct of animals; I remember everything, everything,
everything, and in myself relive each individual life. I am alone.
Once in a hundred years I open my lips to speak, and my voice
echoes sadly in this emptiness and no one hears. . . . You too, pale
fires, you hear me not. . . . The corruption of the marsh engenders
you towards morning, and you wander till the dawn, but without
thought, without will, without throb of life. Fearing lest life should
arise in you, the father of Eternal Matter, the Devil, effects in you,
as in stones and water, a perpetual mutation of atoms; you change
unceasingly. In all the universe spirit alone remains constant and
unchanging. [A pause] Like a captive flung into a deep empty
well, I know not where I am nor what awaits me. One thing only is
revealed to me, that in the cruel and stubborn struggle with the
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♫
Kiwanis Music Festival of
Sudbury
Entry deadline – January 15
School deadline – January 31
Devil, the principle of material forces, it is fated that I shall be
victorious; and thereafter, spirit and matter are to merge together
in exquisite harmony and the reign of Universal Will is to begin.
But that cannot be till, little by little, after a long, long series of
centuries, the moon, the shining dog-star and the earth are turned
to dust. . . . Till then there shall be horror and desolation. . . .
Behold, my mighty antagonist, the Devil, approaches. I see his
awful, blood-red eyes . . .
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