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FEMALE CANDIDATES 

1. Please present one age appropriate monologue below. You do not need to present this from memory. 

2. Choose a short monologue of your own choice and present  from memory. Please bring two copies of the monologue printed in black on A4 paper, size 14 text.  

Although you do not have to present  monologue 1, you should be familiar with them. 

 

For female candidates age 14-18yrs  

Wendla: Why have you made my dress so long, Mother? If I‟d known you were going to make my dress as long as that I‟d rather have stayed thirteen. The little girl-dress suits me better than that old sack. Let me wear it a little longer, Mother! Just for the summer! This penitential robe will keep. Hold it till my next birthday. I‟d only trip on it now! Who knows? Maybe I won't be around. Oh, Mother, please don't be sad! Such ideas come to me in the evening when I can't go to sleep. And I don't feel sad, either. I know I'll sleep all the better. Is it sinful to think of such things, Mother? Oh Mother, a girl doesn't get diphtheria in the back of her knees, why so fainthearted? You don't feel the cold at my age, specially not in the legs. And would it be any better if I was too hot, Mother? You can think yourself lucky if one fine morning your little precious doesn't cut her sleeves off or come home in the evening without shoes and stockings. When I wear my penitential robe I'll be dressed like the queen of the fairies underneath.... Don‟t scold, Mother darling. No one will ever see it!  

For female candidates age 18-25yrs   

Ilse: Last Carnival I went for three days and three nights without getting into bed, or even out of my clothes. From masquerade ball to café; noontimes at Bellavista, evenings at the cabaret, nights to another ball! Lena was along, and fatty Viola. -- The third night, Henry found me. He'd stumbled over my arm. I was lying senseless in the gutter-snow. -- So then I joined up with him. For two weeks I never left his lodgings. That was a horrible time!

 -- Mornings I had to throw on his Persian dressing-gown, and evenings walk about the room in a black page's costume--white lace at the collar, cuffs, and knees. Every day he'd photograph me in a new arrangement: one time on the back of the sofa, as Ariadne, another time as Leda, another as Ganymede, and then he would rave about killing--about shooting, suicide, and charcoal fumes. 

 MALE CANDIDATES 

1. Please present one age appropriate monologue below. You do not need to present this from memory.  

2. Choose a short monologue of your own choice and present  from memory. Please bring two copies of the monologue printed in black on A4 paper, size 14 text. 

Although you do not have to present  monologue 1, you should be familiar with them.

 

For male candidates age 14-18yrs 

Moritz: For the love of God, all I had to do was say yes. (Calls after her) Ilse? Ilse…? (He waits. If only he could run after her…But now, she’s gone.) So what will I say? I’ll tell them all, the angels, I got drunk in the snow, and sang, and played pirates…Yes, I’ll tell them, I’m ready now. I’ll be an angel. (Moritz sighs, looks out on the night. He withdraws the gun from his pocket.) Ten minutes ago, you could see the event horizon. Now, only the dust—the first few stars…So dark. So dark. So dark… (Moritz cocks the hammer of the gun. Sets the gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger) 

For male candidates age 18-25yrs  

Moritz: To be frank with you, Melchior, I've had exactly that feeling since I read your paper. It fell out at my feet in the first days of vacation. I had my French grammar in my hand. I bolted the door and ran through your quivering lines like a frightened owl flying through a blazing wood. I think I read most of it with my eyes shut. At your explanations a stream of vague memories rang in my ears like a song one used to hum joyously to one's self in childhood, and at the brink of death hears from the mouth of another, and is appalled. My sympathy was aroused most by what you wrote about the girl's part. I shall never get over the impression that made. I'm sure, Melchior, to have to suffer wrong is sweeter than to do wrong. Blamelessly to have to undergo so sweet a wrong seems to me the essence of every earthly bliss. -- The girl's delight, Melchior, is like the blessèd gods'.