monologue
Francesca's Monologue
Thursday March 22 11:24
A little monologue, written for an acting student:
Francesca’s Monologue
See, the thing is… Antonio’s the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s really cute and cut and he drives a Maserati. A Maserati! His parents gave it to him, so yes… he’s got a lot of money, which is why he’s moving to Connecticut, because his parents can afford those schools—those Ivy League schools. I could go to one of those schools. Do they teach hairdressing at Yale? Doesn’t matter—I’m still going. It’s just a matter of getting there. He would have paid my bus fare, or driven me down himself in is Maserati, but he doesn’t really know that we’re meant to be together yet. But he will! Oh Antonio! He has such a handsome name. Sounds like something out of Shakespeare. Didn’t Shakespeare have a play about Italians? I read it in high school. There were all these suit-men or something, running around trying to get this girl who was named after a car. What was her name—Ferrari? Anyhow, one of those merchants was named Antonio. And he was tall and muscular and dashing, and now he’s gone. Oh Antonio, how I miss thee, my Maserati man—my muscular Maserati merchant man! I was so sad when he left. It was like I had this whole wonderful play acted out in my head only I never got to write it down. Well, I can’t bear to be without him so I’m going. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see me when I arrive at his doorstep in Connecticut. Won’t he? Maybe he won’t even recognize me. Of course he will. We grew up together. We’re practically related already because his father’s father is my mother’s brother’s best friend—which does not mean that we’re blood related, but which does mean that we are meant to be together. We’ll live together in Connecticut, and he’ll go to business school and I’ll keep the house and polish his Maserati and we’ll have a wedding like they have at the end of Shakespeare and all I have to do is get there. So, if you would care to contribute I’d be eternally thankful. The bus is so expensive these days.
©Adam Kelly Morton, 2008
Francesca’s Monologue
See, the thing is… Antonio’s the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s really cute and cut and he drives a Maserati. A Maserati! His parents gave it to him, so yes… he’s got a lot of money, which is why he’s moving to Connecticut, because his parents can afford those schools—those Ivy League schools. I could go to one of those schools. Do they teach hairdressing at Yale? Doesn’t matter—I’m still going. It’s just a matter of getting there. He would have paid my bus fare, or driven me down himself in is Maserati, but he doesn’t really know that we’re meant to be together yet. But he will! Oh Antonio! He has such a handsome name. Sounds like something out of Shakespeare. Didn’t Shakespeare have a play about Italians? I read it in high school. There were all these suit-men or something, running around trying to get this girl who was named after a car. What was her name—Ferrari? Anyhow, one of those merchants was named Antonio. And he was tall and muscular and dashing, and now he’s gone. Oh Antonio, how I miss thee, my Maserati man—my muscular Maserati merchant man! I was so sad when he left. It was like I had this whole wonderful play acted out in my head only I never got to write it down. Well, I can’t bear to be without him so I’m going. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see me when I arrive at his doorstep in Connecticut. Won’t he? Maybe he won’t even recognize me. Of course he will. We grew up together. We’re practically related already because his father’s father is my mother’s brother’s best friend—which does not mean that we’re blood related, but which does mean that we are meant to be together. We’ll live together in Connecticut, and he’ll go to business school and I’ll keep the house and polish his Maserati and we’ll have a wedding like they have at the end of Shakespeare and all I have to do is get there. So, if you would care to contribute I’d be eternally thankful. The bus is so expensive these days.
©Adam Kelly Morton, 2008
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