Here are the monologues I’m preparing for the Unified auditions
All my sons:
Oh, no, he’ll come back. We all come back, Kate. These private little revolutions always die. The compromise is always made. In a peculiar way, Frank is right – every man does have a star. The star of one’s honesty. And you spend your life groping for it, but once it’s out it never lights again. I don’t think he went very far. He probably just wanted to be alone to watch his star go out.
I wish he wouldn’t come back, Kate. One year I simply took off, went to New Orleans; for two months I lived on bananas and milk, and studied a certain disease. It was beautiful. And then she came, and she cried. And I went back home with her. And now I live in the usual darkness; I can’t find myself; it’s even hard sometimes to remember the kind of man I wanted to be. I’m a good husband; Chris is a good son – he’ll come back.
Barefoot in the park:
Oh yeah? Well, I’ve got a big surprise for you, I’m not going to be here when you get back! Let’s see how you like living alone… A dog… Ha! That’s a laugh… Wait till she tries to take him out for a walk. He’ll get one look at those stairs and go right for her throat.
You might as well get a parakeet, too… So you can talk to him all night. “How much can I spend for bird seeds, Polly? Is a nickel too much? ” well, fortunately, I don’t need anyone to protect me. Because I am a man, sweetheart… An independent, mature, self-sufficient man!
{sneezes}
God bless me! I probably got the flu. Yeah, I’m hot, cold, sweating, freezing. It’s probably a 24 hour virus. I’ll be alright… Tomorrow at a quarter to five.
Oh!… Oh, thanks a lot, pal. “and thus it was written, some shall die by pestilence, some by the plague… And one poor schnook is gonna get it from a hole in the ceiling.”