HOWARD FINE ACTING STUDIO SUGGESTED AUDITION PIECES FOR PEOPLE APPLYING IN 2012 TO ENROL IN 2013 You must prepare two audition pieces. At least one must be from the section below.

THE TAMING OF THE SHREW By William Shakespeare Katharine The more my wrong, the more his spite appears. What, did he marry me to famish me? Beggars that come unto my fathers door Upon entreaty have a present alms; If not, elsewhere they meet with charity; But I, who never knew how to entreat, Nor never needed that I should entreat, Am starvd for meat, giddy for lack of sleep; With oaths kept waking, and with brawling fed; And that which spites me more than all these wants He does it under name of perfect love; As who should say, if I should sleep or eat, Twere deadly sickness or else present death. I prithee go and get me some repast; I care not what, so it be wholesome food.

Romeo and Juliet By William Shakespeare Juliet: The clock struck nine when I did send the Nurse. In half an hour she promised to return. Perchance she cannot meet him. Thats not so. O, she is lame! Loves heralds should be thoughts, Which ten times faster glides than the suns beams, Driving back shadows over louring hills. Therefore do nimble-pinioned doves draw love, And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. Now is the sun upon the highmost hill Of this days journey, and from nine till twelve Is three long hours, yet she is not come. Had she affections and warm youthful blood, She would be as swift in motion as a ball. My words would bandy her to my sweet love, And his to me. But old folks, many feign as they were dead Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead. O God, she comes! O honey Nurse, what news? Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.

As You Like It By William Shakespeare

Rosalind: And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother, That you insult, exult and all at once Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty As, by my faith, I see no more in you Than without candle may go dark to bed Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? I see no more in you than in the ordinary Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life, I think she means to tangle my eyes too! No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it: 'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream That can entame my spirits to your worship. You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, Like foggy south, puffing with wind and rain? You are a thousand times a properer man Than she a woman. 'Tis such fools as you That makes the world full of ill-favoured children. 'Tis not her glass, but you that flatters her, And out of you she sees herself more proper Than any of her lineaments can show her. But, mistress, know yourself; down on your knees And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love! For I must tell you friendly in your ear, Sell when you can, you are not for all markets. Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer. Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. So take her to thee, shepherd. Fare you well.

HAMLET By William Shakespeare Queen Gertrude: There is a willow grows aslant a brook, That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream; There with fantastic garlands did she come Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples That liberal shepherds give a grosser name, But our cold maids do dead mens fingers call them: There, on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke; When down her weedy trophies and herself Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide; And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her up: Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes; As one incapable of her own distress. Or like a creature native and indued Unto that element: but long it could not be Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, Pulld the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death.

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING By William Shakespeare BEATRICE: Kill Claudio! (BEAT) You kill me to deny it. Farewell. I am gone, though I am here: there is no love in you: nay, I pray you, let me go. In faith, I will go. You dare easier be friends with me than fight with my enemy. Is Claudio not approved in the height a villain, that hath slandered, scorned, dishonoured my kinswoman? O that I were a man! What, bear her in hand until they come to take hands ; and then, with public accusation, uncovered slander, unmitigated rancour, - O, God that I were a man! I would eat his heart in the market-place. Talk with a man out at window! A proper saying! Sweet Hero! She is wronged, she is slandered, she is undone. Princes and counties! Surely, a princely testimony, a goodly count, Count Comfect; a sweet gallant surely! O that I were a man for his sake! Or that I had any friend would be a man for my sake! But manhood is melted into courtesies, valour into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones too : he is now as valiant as Hercules that only tells a lie and swears it. I cannot be a man with wishing, therefore I will die a woman with grieving.

MACBETH By William Shakespeare Lady Macbeth: What beast was t, then, That made you break this enterprise to me? When you durst do it, then you were a man; And to be more than what you were, you would Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place Did then adhere, and yet you would make both. They have made themselves, and that their fitness now Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know How tender tis to love the babe that milks me. I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have plucked my nipple from his boneless gums And dashed the brains out, had I so sworn as you Have done to this.

The Merchant of Venice By William Shakespeare

Portia: You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, Such as I am. Though for myself alone I would not be ambitious in my wish To wish myself much better, yet for you I would be trebled twenty times myself, A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times More rich, that only to stand high in your account, I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, Exceed account; but the full sum of me Is sum of something, which to term in gross, Is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractised, Happy in this, she is not yet so old But she may learn; happier than this, She is not bred so dull but she can learn; Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be directed, As from her lord, her governor, her king. Myself and what is mine to you and yours Is now converted. But now I was the lord Of this fair mansion, master of my servants, Queen oer myself; and even now, but now, This house, these servants, and this same myself Are yours, my lords. I give them with this ring, Which when you part from, lose, or give away, Let it presage the ruin of your love And be my vantage to exclaim on you.

HONOUR By Joanna Murray-Smith Sophie: I wish I wish I was more Like you. Like you. Youre so youre so clear. You seem so clear about things. Whereas Im Im so I can never quite say what Im even to myself, Im so inarticulate. Some nights I lie awake and I go over the things Ive said. Confidently. The things Ive said confidently and they they fall to pieces. And where there were words there is now just just this feeling of of impossibility. That everything is theres no way through it [progressively breaking down] I used to feel that way when I was very small. That same feeling. Not a childish feeling well, maybe. As if I was choking on as if life was coming down on me and I couldnt see my way through it. What does a child who has everything suffer from? Who could name it? I cant. I cant. [breaking] But it was a a sort of I used to see it in my head as jungle. Around me. Surrounding me. Some darkness growing, something organic, alive and the only thing that kept me kept me here was the picture of Honor and of Gus. Silly. Because Im old now and I shouldnt remember that anymore. Lying in bed and feeling that they were there: outside the room in all their their warmth, their a kind of charm to them. Maybe youre right and it was not so simple as it looked, but they gave such a strong sense of love for each other and inside that I felt I felt loved. And since Ive gotten older I dont feel [Weeping.] I feel as if all that all the everything that saved me has fallen from me and you know, Im not a kid anymore. No. Im not a kid any more. But I still feel I need I need (Pause) Sorry.

The Libertine By Stephen Jeffreys Elizabeth:

You have no understanding, do you? You have comprehended just that I am tired of being your mistress and your solution is to conscript me into becoming your wife. It is not being a mistress I am tired of, John. I am tired of you. I do not wish to be your wife. I do not wish to be anyones wife. I wish to continue being the creature I am. I am no Nell Gwyn, I will not give up the stage as soon as a King or a Lord has seen me on it and, wishing me to be his and his alone, will then pay a fortune to keep me off it. I am not the sparrow you picked up in the roadside, my love. London walks into this theatre to see me not Georges play nor Mr. Betterton. They want me and they want me over and over again. And when people desire you in such a manner, then you can envisage a steady river of gold lapping at your doorstep, not five pound here or there for pity or bed favours, not a nobles ransom for holding you hostage from the thing you love, but a lifetime of money amassed through your own endeavours. That is riches. Leave this gaudy, gilded stage. Youre right, this stage is gilded. It is gilded with my future earnings. And I will not trade those for a dependency on you. I will not swap my certain glory for your undependable love.

Three Sisters By Anton Chekhov Irena: Tell me, why is it I'm so happy today? As if I were sailing, with the wide, blue sky above me, and great white birds soaring in the wind. Why is it? Why? I woke up this morning, I got up, I washed - and suddenly I felt everything in this world was clear to me - I felt I knew how life had to be lived. Dear Ivan Romanich, I can see it all. A human being has to labour, whoever he happens to be, he has to toil in the sweat of his face; thats the only way he can find the sense and purpose of his life, his happiness, his delight. How fine to be a working man who rises at first light and breaks stones on the road, or a shepherd, or a teacher, or an engine driver on the railway Lord, never mind being human even better to be an ox, better to be a simple horse, just so long as you work anything rather than a young lady who rises at noon, then drinks her coffee in bed, then takes two hours to dress thats terrible! In hot weather sometimes you long to drink the way I began longing to work. And if I dont start getting up early and working, then shut your heart against me, Ivan Romanich.

A Talk In The Park By Alan Ayckbourn Beryl: Thanks. Sorry, only the man over there wont stop talking. I wanted to read this in peace. I couldnt concentrate. He just kept going on and on about his collections or something. I normally dont mind too much, only if you get a letter like this, you need all your concentration. You cant have people talking in your ear especially when youre trying to decipher writing like this. He must have been stoned out of his mind when he wrote it. It wouldnt be unusual. Look at it. He wants me to come back. Some hopes. To him. Hes sorry, he didnt mean to do what he did, he wont do it again I promise, etc., etc. I seem to have heard that before. Its not the first time, I can tell you. And theres no excuse for it, is there? Violence. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Keep going back to that? Every time he loses his temper he I mean, theres no excuse. A fracture, you know. It was nearly a compound fracture. Thats what they told me. (Indicating her head) Right here. You can practically see it to this day. Two X-rays. I said to him when I got home, I said, You bastard, you know what you did to my head? He just stands there. The way he does. Sorry, he says, Im ever so sorry. I told him, I said, Youre a bastard, thats what you are. A right, uncontrolled, violent, bad-tempered bastard. You know what he said? He says, You call me a bastard again and Ill smash your stupid face in.

Daylight Saving By Nick Enright Stephanie: You know what that bastard has done to me now? Yes, I know. I know you said, Take it easy, Steph, go easy with this one. But I thought, no, this is the one, Brendans the one. I mean, Brendan, that should have been the giveaway, even if Id missed the Miraculous Medal on the dashboard. But there he was, this vital, vibrant, caring man, who took three months to tell me his marriage was a sacrament, so even though he couldnt live without me, he couldnt live with me. Well I could live with that, right? I could live with anything. Until tonight. I could live with the guilt, and the clock-watching, and the quick dash for the door to make it home before Bernadette gets back from her Ecumenical Tae Kwon Do group. I could live with being stood up for a Pentecostal Bushwalk. I can live with Brendan and Bernadette, I mean not live with Brendan because of Bernadette...well, because of Bernadette, the gutless little Mick turd. I can live with anything but this. You know what hes done, Fliss? You know what Brendan has done? He has given me up for Lent.

Wild Honey By Anton Chekhov Anna Petrovna: How can you say that? How can you lie to me, on such a night as this, beneath such a sky? Tell your lies in autumn, if you must, in the gloom and the mud, but not now, not here. Youre being watched! Look up, you absurd man! A thousand eyes, all shining with indignation! You must be good and true, just as all this is good and true. Dont break this silence with your little words! Theres no man in the world I could ever love as I love you. Theres no woman in the world you could ever love as you love me. Lets take that love; and all the rest, that so torments you well leave that to others to worry about. Are you really such a terrible Don Juan? You look so handsome in the moonlight! Such a solemn face! Its a woman whos come to call, not a wild animal! All right if you really hate it all so much Ill go away again. Is that what you want? Ill go away, and everything will be just as it was before. Yes? (she laughs) Idiot! Take it! Snatch it! Seize it! What more do you want? Smoke it to the end, like a cigarette pinch it out tread it under your heel. Be human! You funny creature! A woman loves you a woman you love fine summer weather. What could be simpler than that? You dont realise how hard life is for me. And yet life is what I long for. Everything is alive, nothing is ever still. Were surrounded by life. We must live, too, Misha! Leave all the problems for tomorrow. Tonight, on this night of nights, well simply live!

Marco Polo Sings a Solo By John Guare Diane: I really had started cookin when I was eight. I sat down at the piano as I had every day since I could walk, threw back the lid of the Knabe-Bechstien-Steinway and there on the keys was Mozart. I was never lonely playing the piano. Brahms was always there. Bach. Chopin. And here was Mozart. Hi, Mozart! Only this time, he had a raincoat on. A little raincoat. Now I had been told to beware of men in raincoats, but after all, it was Mozart. Mozarts no degenerate. Mozarts no creep. You can trust Mozart. The cool water of Mozart. He says, Hello, little girl. You gonna bring me back to La Vie? I said, Golly, Ill try. And I began playing that Kochel listing I had been practicing for a year with that magical imitative brilliance that children can have. The technical mastery and total non-comprehension that children can have. I lifted my hands, dug them into the eighty-eights and Mozart says: Yeah. Give it to me. I looked down. Mozart. The raincoat. Opened. The keys became erect. Black. White. I became terrified. Mozart! This isnt a school yard. This is a hall named after Mr. Andrew Carnegie and Im only 8 years old and what the hell are you doing??? More. More. More, says Mozart and he throws back his head. Dig those digits into these eighty-eights. Bring me back to life. Bring me back to life. Mother??? Dad?? Theyre in the wings blowing kisses at me. Holding up signs. Youve never played better. Mozart moans. Its a short piece. It ends. Mozart spurts all over me. Im wet. Mozart wet. Frightened. The audience roars. This child prodigy. Cant they see whats happened? I look down and hear a chorus of yeahs coming from all those little dead men in raincoats. Theres a scuffle and Brahms leaps on the keys. Me next! Me next! Bring me back to life. My fingers dig into Brahms. Well, I started to like it. Mozart lives. Brahms lives. For the next twenty years that was my life. Diane de la Nova and her circus of Music. Diane de la Nova and her Massage Parlour of Melody.

Spike Heels By Theresa Rebeck Georgie: Oh, yeah? Well, I think you do. All of you. What an amazing fucking snow job you all are doing on the world. And I bought it! We all buy it. My family theyre like, all of a sudden Im Mary Tyler Moore or something. I mean, they live in hell, right, and they spend their whole lives just wishing they were somewhere else, wishing they were rich, or sober, or clean; living on a street with trees, being on some rucking TV show. And I did it. I moved to Boston, I work in a law office, Im the big success story. And they have no idea what that means. It means I get to hang out with a bunch of lunatics. It means I get to read books that make no sense. It means that instead of getting harassed by jerks at the local bar, now I get harassed by guys in suits. Guys with glasses. Guys who talk nice. Guys in suits. Well, you know what I have to say to all of you? Shame on you. Shame on your for thinking youre better than the rest of us. And shame on you for being mean to me. Shame on you Lydia.

Spike Heels By Theresa Rebeck Lydia: At first, I admired Andrews interest in your welfare. He cares about people; he truly cares and I think thats wonderful. But these past few months, I must admit, I have become less interested in his interest. Not only do I listen to him talk about you incessantly, any time I come over to have dinner or spend the night here, I am bombarded by you. When you come home at night, we hear your little heels clicking on the ceiling. When you leave in the morning, we hear your little heels. When you go to bed we hear you brush your teeth, and talk on the phone, and listen to the radio and on certain evenings I could swear that we can even hear you undress. I am not enjoying this. For the past two months, I have been under the distinct impression that any time I spend the night here, I am actually sleeping with two people Andrew and yourself. In fact, when you came home with Edward tonight my first though was, my God, the bed is already crowded enough, now we have to fit Edward in too?

The Shadow Box By Michael Christofer Agnes:

We were very close. Our whole family. Especially after my father died. We were just children then. Mama worked very hard to keep us together. We had a dairy farm. It was a beautiful place. Big, old house 1873. And so much land. It seemed even bigger then I was so little. We were very happy. And then Claire ... there was a boy ... well, she left us ... just like that. She was a lot like Mama. They would fight and yell and throw things at each other ... they got along very well. Claire was so beautiful. I would hide in my room. I got so frightened when they fought, but . . . I don't know . . . suddenly the fight would be over and Mama would throw open her arms and curse the day she bore children and Claire would laugh and then Mama would laugh and hug her close . . . and then all of us, we would laugh . . . I can still hear us . . . But she left. And we never heard from her. Almost a year. The longest year I can remember. Mama waited and waited, but she never wrote or came back to visit . . . nothing. And then one morning, we received a phone call from a man in Louisiana. There was an accident . . . something. And Claire was dead. They said at first they thought she was going to be all right, but she was hemorrhaging and . . . This is very hard to remember.

The Shadow Box By Michael Christofer Beverley:

Past time ... way past time. The sign goes up and I can see 'useless' printed all over it. Let me tell you something, as one whore to another-what you do with your ass is your business. You can drag it through every gutter from here to Morocco. You can trade it, sell it, or give it away. You can run it up a flagpole, paint it blue or cut it off if you feel like it. I don't care. I'll even show you the best way to do it. That's the kind of person I am. But Brian is different. Because Brian is stupid. Because Brian is blind. Because Brian doesn't know where you come from or who you come from or why or how or even what you are coming to. Because Brian happens to need you. And if that is not enough for you, then you get yourself out of his life-fast. You take your delicate sensibilities and your fears and your disgust, if that's all you feel, and you pack it up and you get out. Yes. That simple. A postcard at Christmas, a telegram for his birthday, and maybe a phone call every few years . . . if he lives. But only when it gets really bad. When the money and the time and the people are all running out faster than you care to count, and the reasons don't sound as good as they used to and you don't remember anymore why . . . why you walked out on the one person who said yes, you do what you have to because I love you. And you can't remember anymore what it was you thought you had to do or who the hell you thought you were that was so goddamn important that you couldn't hang around long enough to say goodbye or to find out what it was you were saying goodbye to . . . Then you phone, because you need to know that somewhere, for no good reason, there is one poor stupid deluded human being who smells and rots and dies and still believes in you. One human being who cares. My God, why isn't that ever enough?

Danny and the Deep Blue By John Patrick Shanley Roberta: I can't stay like I am! I can't stay in this fuckin head anymore! If I don't get outta this fuckin head I'm gonna go crazy! I could eat glass! I could put my hand inna fire an watch the fuckin thing bum and I still wouldn't be outta this fuckin head! What am I gonna do? What? I can't close my eyes, man. I can't close my eyes and see the things I see. I'm still in that house! I wouldn't a believed it but I'm still in that house. He's there and I'm there. And my kid. Who's nuts already. It's like, what could happen now? You know? What else could happen? But somethin's gotta. I feel like the day's gonna come when I could just put out my arm and fire and lightning will come outta my hand and burn up everything for a thousand miles! It ain't right to feel as much as I feel. Roberta: Roberta: That's what it is. There's boats right up by Westchester Square. What's that, twenty blocks? Look sometime, you'll see 'ern. Not the real big ones, but big. Sea boats. I met a sailor in the bar one time. In the outfit, you know? I was all over him. But he turned out to be nothin-a pothead. He giggled a lot. It was too bad because ... Well, it was too bad. When we got married, me and Billy, that was my husband, we smoked a ball of opium one night. It really knocked me out. I fell asleep like immediately. And I dreamed about the ocean. It was real blue. And there was the sun, and it was real yellow. And I was out there, right in the middle of the ocean, and I heard this noise. I turned around, and whaddaya think I saw? Just about right next to me. A whale! A whale carne shootin straight outta the water! A whale! Yeah! And he opened up his mouth and closed it while he-was up there in the air. And people on the boat said, Look! The whales are jumpin! And no shit, these whales start jumpin outta the water all over the place. And I can see them! Through one a those round windows. Or right out in the open. Whales! Gushin outta the water, and the water gushin outta their heads, you know, spoutin! And then, after a while, they all stopped jumpin. It got quiet. Everybody went away. The water smoothed out. But I kept lookin at the ocean. So deep and blue. And different. It was different then. 'Cause I knew it had all them whales in it.

The Early Girl By Caroline Kava Lana: I understand your doubts. Number One was a windfall for you, Lily. That doesn't make it any less valid. But it's why this next month is so important. You'll prove to yourself, once and for all, that you are indeed Number One, with all your competition in force. I'm so excited for you. Because I know you're going to make it. And then! The Requests will start pouring in. Hundreds of requests. You won't be able to accept them all. But you know something? They'll wait. They'll wait for you. Because everyone wants the best, the very best, ..including Dolly. (beat) Well, don't let me keep you. I know you'll be spending some time at the bank. Don't forget to take your diamonds. (Pause, looking in the mirror.) Ah ..