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Daughters, Wives, Virgins and Statues (a play)
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Daughters, Wives, Virgins and Statues (a play)
Viola Captain Leontes
Lear Reagan Goneril
Cordelia Tranio Kate
Baptista Petruchio Widow
Bianca Lucentio Holden
Banky Othello Desdemona
Iago Alyssa Polonius
Ophelia Hermione Gremio

Leontes: We honor you with trouble; but we came
To see the statue of our queen. Your gallery
Have we pass’d through, not without much tinent
In many singularities but we saw not
That which my daughter came to look upon,
The statue of her mother.

Hermione: Our stories are different; our pain is the same. The work that must be done for each woman to reconnect with her psyche and to give herself a chance to live her own life is essentially the same.

Viola: What country, friends, is this?

Captain: This is Illyria, lady.

Viola: And what should I do in Illyria?

Hermione: Be a man.

Viola: My brother he is in Elysium.
Perchance he is not drown’d—what think you, sailors?

Hermione: How to Be a Man
Hawk Loogies
Men are bad at organizing stuff, but we can efficiently round up all our snot, bring it to a common area (the mouth) and dispose of it quickly by spitting. It’s called hawking because that’s the sound you make when you aggressively summon all of the phlegm from your nose and throat to your mouth.
How to: 1. You need excess phlegm. If you’re in denial about your own phlegm production, have a good cry, a couple of non filter cigarettes and a glass of whole milk, and get back to me. 2. Breath in deeply through your nose without swallowing any air. This brings the phlegm to the back of your throat. 3. The hawking comes once the snot is in the back of your mouth. Hawking is a combination of exhaling really hard, closing your esophagus and growling at the same time. 4. The excess phlegm should now be resting on your tongue. Curl your tongue into a U, open your mouth and forcefully blow out.

Viola: Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,
Whereto thy speech serves for authority,
The like of him. Know’st thou this country?

Captain: Ay, madam, well, for I was bred and born
Not three hours’ travel from this very place.

Viola: Who governs here?

Captain: A noble duke, in nature as in name.

Viola: What is his name?

Captian: Orsino.

Hermione: Scratch Your Privates
By a certain age (like 6), guys are so familiar with their equipment that a public crotch-dig feels as normal as scratching an elbow. It says, “My privates, though special and important to me, are like an old sock that needs adjusting.” And sometimes we just need to see if all our stuff is still there.
How to: To make it nonchalant, I suggest you multitask. Pretend you’re swatting a fly with your free hand, anything—and quickly scrach your nether regions.

Viola: Orsino! I have heard my father name him.
He was a bachelor then.

Captain: And so is now, or was so very late;
For but a month ago I went from hence,
And then ‘twas fresh in murmur (as you know
What great ones do, the less will prattle of)
That he did seek the love of fair Olivia.

Viola: What’s she?

Hermione: Get Oral Sex without Reciprocation
Receive oral satisfaction, then zip up and get on with your life.
How to: 1. Elect to receive. 2. After your orgasm, pull your pants up, and ask your partner if s/he’s like to go have a cheeseburger somewhere. 3. Thank him or her (optional)

Captain: A virtuous maid, the daughter of a count
That died some twelvemonth since, then leaving her
In the protection of his son, her brother,
Who shortly also died; for whose dear love,
They say, she hath abjur’d the company
And sight of men.

Viola: O that I serv’d that lady,
And might not be delivered to the world
Till I had made mine own occasion mellow
What my estate is!

Captain: That were hard to compass,
Because she will admit no kind of suit,
No, not the Duke’s.

Viola: There is a fair behavior in thee, Captain,
And thought that nature with a beauteous wall
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of thee
I will believe thou hast a mind that suits
With this thy fair and outward character.
I prithee (and I’ll pay thee bounteously)
Conceal me what I am, and be my aid
For such disguise as haply shall become
The form of my intent. I’ll serve this duke;
Thou shalt present me as an eunuch to him,
It may be worth thy pains; for I can sing
And speak to him in many sorts of music
That will allow me very worth his service.
What else may hap, to time I will commit,
Only shape thou thy silence to my wit.

Captain: Be you his eunuch , and your mute I’ll be;
When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see.

Hermione: Puch a Wall
Abuse inanimate objects, like telephones, computers, printers, signs, walls and cars. Most popular are windows and doors.
How to: 1. Don’t bother arguing with your boyfriend or your boss—just cock your fist (without tucking your thumb in; you could break it), and make sure any verbiage uttered is pure gibberish. Remember, you speak by kicking the shit out of things. If it was a bad phone call that set you off, yank the phone out of the wall. Show it to your cube-mate or pet. Say, “You’re next, pal.” 2. If people try to calm you down or bandage you up, tell them they don’t understand. 3. If you smash a wall, make sure it isn’t brick. If you punch a window, have a tourniquet handy, or be sure you can dial 911 with your good hand.

Leontes: [To Viola] Her natural posture!
Chide me, dear stone, that I may say indeed
Thou art Hermione; or rather, thou art she
In thy not chiding; for she was as tender
As infancy and grace. But yet,

Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing
So aged as this seems.

Viola: I thank thee. Lead me on.

Lear: Mean time we shall express our darker purpose.
Give me the map there. Know that we have divided
In three our kingdom; and ‘tis our fast intent
To shake all cares and business from our age,
Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
Unburthen’d crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall,
And you, our no less loving son of Albany,
We have this hour a constant will to publish
Our daughters’ several dowers, that future strife
May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy,
Great rivals in our youngest daughter’s love,
Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn,
And here are to be answer’d. Tell me, my daughters
(Since now we will divest us both of rule,
Interest of territory, cares of state),
Which of you shall we say doth love us most,
That we our largest bounty may extend
Where nature doth with merit challenge? Goneril,
Our eldest-born, speak first.

Goneril: Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter,
Dearer than eyesight, space and liberty,
Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare,
No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honor;
As much as child e’er lov’d , or father found;
A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable:
Beyond all manner of so much I love you.

Cordelia: [Aside]What shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent.

Hermione: I was not so much younger than now when I first dared to hate a man. He (of course) is my father.

Lear: Of all these bounds, even from this line to this,
With shadowy forests and with champains rich’d,
With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads,
We make thee lady. To thine and Albany’s issue
Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter,
Our dearest Regan, wife of Cornwall? Speak.

Regan: I am made of that self metal as my sister,
And prize me at her worth. In my true heart
I find she names my very deed of love;
Only she comes too short, that I profess
Myself an enemy to all other joys
Which the most precious square of sense possesses,
And find I am alone felicitate
In your dear Highness’ love.

Cordelia: [Aside] Then poor Cordelia!
And yet not so, since I am sure my love’s
More ponderous than my tongue.

Hermione: And I realized, by golly, that he was wrong. And yet his certain mistake did not allow me a word in edgewise to criticize as his booming voice overtook my frailer protests. And so I smiled, cleared the table, and went up to my room to hate his stinking guts until breakfast.

Lear: To thee and thine hereditary ever
Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom,
No less in space, validity , and pleasure,
Than that conferr’d on Goneril. –Now our joy,
Although our last and least, to whose young love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess’d, what can you say to draw
A third more opulent than your sister’s? Speak.

Cordelia: Nothing, my lord.

Hermione: I read a book.

Leontes: As now she might have done,
So much to my good comfort as it is
Now piercing to my soul. O, thus she stood,
Even with such life of majesty (warm life,
As now it coldly stands), when first I woo’d her!

Lear: Nothing?

Cordelia: Nothing.

Hermione: I folded my clothes and talked on the phone.

Leontes: I am asham’d; does not the stone rebuke me
For being more stone that it?

Lear: Nothing will come of nothing, speak again.

Cordelia: Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave
My heart into my mouth. I love your Majesty
According to my bond, no more nor less.

Hermione: And I realized that he need to be hated, not disrespectfully as my father, but with respect to his maleness.

Leontes: O royal piece,
There’s magic in they majesty, which has
My evils conjur’d to remembrance, and
From they admiring daughter took the spirits,
Standing like stone with thee.

Lear: How, how, Cordelia? Mend your speech a little,
Lest you may mar your fortunes.

Cordelia: Good my lord,
You have begot me, bred me, lov’d me: I
Return those duties back as are right fit,
Obey you, love you, and most honor you.
Why have my sisters husbands, if they say
They love you all? Happily, when I shall wed,
That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry
Half my love with him, half my care and duty.
Sure I shall never marry like my sisters,
To love my father all.

Hermione: And so, under the shining sun of morning, I reappeared.

Lear: But goes thy heart with this?

Cordelia: Ay, my good lord.

Hermione: I smiled, the dutiful daughter.

Lear: So young, and so untender?

Cordelia: So young, my lord, and true.

Hermione: I listened to him speak of gold and big breasts with the tongue-biting solidarity that I know I share with most women.

Lear: Let it be so: thy truth then be thy dow’r!
For by the sacred radiance of the sun,
The mysteries of Hecat and the night,
By all the operation of the orbs,
From whom we do exist and cease to be;
Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity and property of blood,
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee from this for ever. The barbarous Scythian,
Or he that makes his generation messes
To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom
Be as well neighbor’d, pitied, and reliev’d,
As thou my sometime daughter.
[Aside] I lov’d her most, and thought to se my rest
On her kind nursery

Leontes: Let be, let be.
Would I were dead but that methinks already—
What was he that did make it? See, my lord,
Would you not deem it breath’d? and that those veins
Did verily bear blood?

Lear: [To Cordelia.] Hence, and avoid my sight!—
So be my grave my peace, as here I give
Her father’s heart from her. Call France. Who stirs?
Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany,
With my two daughters’ dow’rs digest the third;
Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her.
I do invest you jointly with my power,
Pre-eminence, and all the large effects
That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course,
With reservation of an hundred knights
By you to be sustain’d, shall our abode
Make with you by due turn. Only we shall retain
The name, and all th’addition to a king;
The sway, revenue, execution of the rest,
Beloved sons, be yours, which to confirm,
This coronet part between you.

Ophelia: I shall the effect of this good lesson keep
As watchman to my heart.

Kate: I was not so much younger than now when I first dared to hate a man. He (of course) is my father. And I realized, by golly, that he was wrong. And yet his certain mistake did not allow me a word in edgewise to criticize as his booming voice overtook my frailer protests. And so I smiled, cleared the table, and went up to my room to hate his stinking guts until breakfast. I read a book. I folded my clothes and talked on the phone. And I relized that he needed to be hated, not disrespectfully as my father, but with respect to his maleness. And so, under the shining sun of morning, I reappeared. I smiled, the dutiful daughter. I listened to him speak of gold and big breasts with the tongue-biting solidarity that I know I share with most women.

Baptista: Gentlemen, importune me no farther,
For how I fimly am resolv’d you know:
That is, not to bestow my youngest daughter
Before I have a husband for the elder.
If either of you both love Ktherina,
Because I know you well, and love you well,
Leave shall you have to court her at your pleasure.

Gremio: To cart her rather; she’s too rought for me.
There, there Hortensio, will you any wife?

Kate: [To Baptista] I pray you, sir, is it your will
To make a stale of me amongst these mates?

Hortension: Mates, maid, how mean you that? No mates for you,
Unless you were of gentler, milder mould.

Kate: I’ faith, sir, you shall never need to fear.
Iwis it is not half way to her heart;
But if it were, doubt not her care should be
To comb your noddle with a three-legg’d stool,
And paint your face, and use you like a fool.

Hortensio: From all such devils, good Lord deliver us!

Gremio: And me too, good Lord!

Tranio: Husht, master, here’s some good pastime toward;
That wench is stark mad or wonderful forward.

Lucentio: But in the other’s silence do I see
Maid’s mild behavior and sobriety.
Peace, Tranio!

Tranio: Well said, master, mum, and gaze your fill.

Baptista: Gentlemen, that I may soon make good
What I have said, Bianca, get you in,
And let it not displease thee, good Bianca,
For I will love thee ne’er the less, my girl.

Kate: A pretty peat! it is best
Put finger in the eye, and she knew why.

Bianca: Sister, content you in my discontent.
Sir, to your pleasure humbly I subscribe;
My books and instruments shall be my company,
On them to look and practice by myself.

Lucentio: Hark, Tranio, thou mayst hear Minerva speak.

Hortensio: Signior Baptista, for this fiend of hell,
And make her bear the penance of her tongue?

Baptista: Gentlemen, content ye; I am resolv’d.
Go in, Bianca. [Bianca exits.]
And for I know she taketh most delight
In music, instruments, and poetry,
Schoolmasters will I keep witin my house,
Fir to instruct her youth. If you Hortensio,
Or Signior Gremio, you, know any such,
Prefer them hither; for to cunning men
I will be very kind, and liberal
To mine own children in good bringing-up,
And so farewell. Katherina, you may stay,
For I have more to commune with Bianca. [Exit.]

Kate: Why, and I trust I may go too, may I not?
What shall I be appointed hours, as though (belike)
I knew not what to take and what to leave? Ha!

Kate: So what has any of this got to do with hating men? I guarantee you that there lies no complacency in the core of women. I guarantee you there is not a female gendered body in this world that would not drool over the idea of having a modicum of power and control. And hating men is only one step. I do not suggest for those more timid that I a political platform of such bitter animosity, for that will get you nowhere but personally satisfied to see men squirm at the (clearly irrational) thought of a big dyke running the world. But I do offer up the suggestion for you women out there pushing at the glass ceiling, folding laundry, raising children all alone, shopping for your hubbie’s tightie whities, teaching an insolent class, sitting in a plushly coveted government seat, to those and many more; I suggest hating the men that stroll about. I merely ask that you sample a bit of this medicine upon confronting the penis-packing menace to society. I swear to you it will give name to those fears and sparks of anger. At the most it will make you rebel, at the very least, make good coffee conversation. You may start to love women. And hopefully yourself.

Leontes: The fixture of her eye has motion in’t,
As we are mocked with art.

Petruchio: Nay, I will win my wager better yet,
And show more sign of her obedience,
Her new-built virtue and obedience.
See where she comes, and brings your forward wives
As prisoners to her womanly persuasion.
Katherine, that cap of yours becomes you not;
Off with that bable, throw it under-foot.
(Kate throws down her cap.)

Hermione: Word of the day: Two-pump chump. Noun. Term for male who practices extremely brief sexual intercourse, either due to erectile dysfunction or utter selfish laziness. Usage: “Foreplay with Ron was great but when it came to the deed, I realized that he was a two-pump chump.”

Widow: Lord, let me never have a cause to sigh,
Till I be brought to such a silly pass!

Bianca: Fie, what a foolish duty call you this?

Lucentio: I would your duty were as foolish too.
The wisdom of your duty, fair Bianca,
Hath cost me a hundred crowns since supper-time.

Bianca: The more fool you for laying on my duty.

Petruchio: Katherine, I charge the tell these headstrong women
What duty they do owe their lord and husbands.

Widow: Come, come, you’re mocking; we will have no telling.

Petruchio: Come on, I say, and first being with her.

Widow: She shall not.

Petruchio: I say she shall and first begin with her.
Enter Holden and Banks, at Holden’s drafting table. Banky drops a yearbook on the table.

Holden: What?

Banky: Check out page 48.
(Holden does)

Holden: So?

Banky: Did you see the nickname?

Holden: Fingercuffs.

Banky: And?

Holden: And? She had a weird nickname. What’s your point?

Othello: Give me a living reason she’s disloyal.

Iago: I do not like the office;
But sith I am ent’red in this cause so far
(Prick’d to’t by foolish honesty and love),
I will go on. I lay with Cassio lately,
And being troubled with a raging tooth,
I could not sleep.
There are a kind of men, so loose of soul,
That in their sleeps will mutter their affairs;
One of this Cassio.
In sleep I heard him say, “Sweet Desdemona,
Let us be wary, let us hide our love”’
And then, sir, would he gripe and wring my hand;
Cry, “O sweet creature!” then kiss me hard,
As if he pluck’d up kisses by the roots
That grew upon my lips; then laid his leg
Over my thigh, and sigh’d, and kiss’d, and then
Cried, “cursed fate that gave thee to the Moor!”

Banky: Do you know why it’s fingercuffs?

Holden: No, but I suppose you do.

Banky: I do. Remember Coey Landon? Left Hudson, went to North our senior year?

Holden: Yeah.

Banky: Well, asshole, I ran into him at the store the other day. God, it’s been ages since I’ve seen him. Had a great conversation. Mentioned you were dating Alyssa.

Holden: Did you?

Banky: Yeah. Funny thing is, you know what he said?

Othello: O monstrous! Monstrous!

Iago: Nay, this was but his dream

Othello: But this denoted a forgone conclusion.

Iago: ‘Tis a shrewd doubt, though it be but a dream,
And this may help to thicken other proofs
That do demonstrate thinly.

Othello: I’ll tear her all to pieces.

Iago: Nay, yet be wise; yet we see nothing done;
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
Spotted with strawberries in your wive’s hand?

Othello: I gave her such a one; ‘twas my first gift.

Iago: I know not that; but such a handkerchief
(I am sure it was your wive’s) did I to-day
See Cassio wipe his beard with.

Othello: If it be that—

Coey: Alyssa Jones? Shit, I know Alyssa Jones. I mean I know Alyssa Jones. You know what I’m saying? Me and Rick Darris used to hang out with her a lot, right? Just hanging around her house after school and shit ‘cuz her parents were like never home and shit, right? But one day Rick just whips it out and starts rubbing it on her leg and shit and chasing her around the live room. I was dying. But you know what the crazy bitch did? She fucking drops to her knees and starts sucking him off right in front of me like I wasn’t even there, man. I almost died. But that’s not the fucked up part. The fucked up part was Rick, man, right in the middle of it, turns to me and he points at her and he says “Coey”, just like “Coey.” So I’m like yo, I’ll give it a shot. So I start pulling her pants down and shit all slow cause I figure any second she’s going to turn around and belt me in the mouth, right? But you kmow, check this shit out man. She’s all into it. She’s all wet and shit and I just start going to work, you know what I’m saying. Me and Rick are going to town on this crazy bitch and she’s just loving it. All moaning and shit. It was fucked up. So Rick’s the one who came up with the nickname cause that day she had us locked in tight from both sides like a pair of goddamn Chinese fingercuffs.

Iago: If it be that, or any that was hers,
It speaks against her with the other proofs.

Othello: O that the slave had forty thousand lives!
One is too poor, too weak for my revenge.
Now do I see ‘tis true. Look here, Iago,
All my gond love thus do I blow to heaven.
‘Tis gone.
Arise, black vengeance, from the hollow hell!
Yield up, O love, thy crown and hearted throne
To tyrannous hate! Swell, bosom, with thy fraught,
For ‘tis of aspics’ tongues!

Iago: Yet be content.

Othello: O blood, blood, blood!

Holden: He’s full of shit.

Banky: coey’s a lot of things all right, but an exaggerator he’s not. The dude’s Catholic.

Holden: She’s never even been with a guy.

Banky: That’s what she says. But I say her on her hands and knees getting filled out like an application constitutes being with a guy.

Holden: Look man, Coey London is pulling your chain, okay? The fact that you even believed him for a minute makes you look like a complete fucking idiot.

Banky: I’m getting your back, asshole. People don’t forget shit like fingercuffs. And what if it got out that she’s queer as well? How do you think that’s going to make you look?

Holden: Oh, well, I give a hit about what people think.

Iago: Patience, I say; your mind perhaps may change.

Othello: Never, Iago. Like to the Pontic Sea,
Whose icy current and compulsive course
Nev’r feels retiring ebb, but keeps due on
To the Propontic and the Hellespont,
Even so my bloody thoughts, with violent pace,
Shall nev’r look back, nev’r ebb to humble love,
Till that a capable and wide revenge
Swallow them up [He kneels.] Now by yond marble heaven,
In the due reverence of a sacred vow
I here engage my words.

Iago: Do not rise yet. [Iago kneels.]
Witness, you ever-burning lights above,
You elements that clip us round about,
Witness that here Iago doth give up
The execution of his with, hands, heart,
To wrong’d Othello’s service! Let him command,
And to obey shall be in me remorse,
What bloody business ever. [They rise.]

Othello: I greet thy love,
Not with vain thanks, but with acceptance bounteous,
And will upon the instant put thee to’t:
Within these three days let me hear thee say
That Cassio’s not alive.

Iago: My friend is dead; ‘tis done at your request.
But let her live.

Othello: Damn her, lewd mix! O damn her, damn her!
Come go with me apart, I will withdraw
To furnish me with some swift means of death
For the fair devil. Now art thou my lieutenant.

Iago: I am your own for ever.

Banky: Fuck! All right, what if she’s carrying a disease?

Holden: Fuck you!

Banky: What? Oh, it’s not possible that she’s all crudded up? Coey I can vouch for as clean. The dude never got laid in high school. But Darris? He’s an arch fucking bushman. Name me one chick in our senior class that he didn’t nail for Christ’s sake.

Holden: Let it go, okay? I’m telling you, she’s never even been with a guy, much less these two fucking zeroes.

Banky: And I’m telling you the bitch could be a bigger fucking germ farm than that monkey in Outbreak.

Holden: Would you let it go, okay? I’m fucking tired of this shit. She’s my goddamn girlfriend. Do you understand that? Show her a little fucking respect. And I swear to God if I ever even hear you so much as mention that Alyssa looks a little peaked from now on I’ll put your fucking teeth down your throat.

Banky: I’ll put your fucking teeth down your throat.

Holden: Yeah. Maybe.

Banky: I’ve been working out, you know. You better be ready to make that deal!

Polonius: what is’t, Ophelia, he hath said to you?

Ophelia: So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.

Kate: Fie, fie, unknit that threat’ning unkind brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
To would thy lord, thy king, thy governon.
It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fiar buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman mov’d is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty,
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.

Desdemona: Who’s there? Othello?

Othello: Ay, Desdemona.

Desdemona: Will you come to bed, my lord?

Othello: Have you pray’d to-night, Desdemon?

Desdemona: Ay, my lord.

Holden: Okay. Now I know you guys are probably wondering why I asked you both here at the same time tonight, knowing that we have shit to settle between us separately.

Banky: I just figured you wanted to kill two birds with one stone. You know, by telling her to fuck off with me here so you wouldn’t have to go through the story again later on.

Alyssa: Fuck you.

Banky: Not even if you let me videotape it.

Polonius: Marry, well bethought.
‘Tis told me, he hath very oft of late
Given private time to you, and you yourself
Have of your audience been most free and bounteous.
If it be so—as so ‘tis put on me,
And that in way of caution—I must tell you,
You do not understand yourself so clearly
As it behooves my daughter and your honor.
What is between you? Give me up the truth.

Ophelia: He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders
Of his affection to me.

Polonius: Affection, puh! You speak like a green girl,
Unsifted in such perilous circumstance.
Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?

Ophelia: I do not know, my lord, what I should think.

Holden: Okay, enough. Allright? Enough. Now I’ve been going over and over this whole thing and I’ve dissected it a thousand different ways. Banky, there’s tension between you and I for the first time in our lives. You hate me dating Alyssa and you want me to sign off on this whole cartoon thing.

Banky: How perceptive.

Holden: Alyssa, you and I have hit a wal ‘cause I don’t know how to deal with your, uh, your past, I guess.

Banky: That’s a nice way of putting it. I’d have said the whole double stuff thing.

Holden: I’m only going to tell you once. Shut up. I know I’m to blame one way or another on both accounts. Alyssa, with you, because I feel inadequate. You’ve had such a big life and so much experience and my life’s been pretty small in comparison.

Alyssa: that doesn’t matter to me.

Holden: Please. I have to get through this. Banky, I know why you’re having such a hard time with me and Alyssa and it’s something that’s been obvious forever and I guess I just didn’t acknowledge it. You’re in love with me.

Banky: What?

Holden: You’re attracted to me, just as, in a way, I guess I’m attracted to you. I mean, it makes sense. We’ve been together so long. We have so much in common.

Banky: I got to get going. Gotta catch the last few minutes of Little House.
Holden kisses him.

Holden: It’s something you’re going to have to deal with, Bank. And that would explain your jealousy of Alyssa, your homophobia, your sense of humor.

Banky: Jesus. Just ‘cuase a guy’s got a predilection towards dick jokes…

Holden: Bank. Stop. Deal with it. You’ll feel much better. Okay. Now, you guys are probably asking yourselves the same question that I’ve been going over an dover in my head the past few weeks. What does one have to do with the other?

Alyssa: Don’t.

Othello: If you bethink yourself of any crime
Unreconcil’d as yet to heaven and grace,
Solicit for it straight.

Desdemona: Alack my lord, what may you mean by that?

Othello: Well, do it, and be brief, I will wak by.
I would not kill they unprepared spirit,
No, heaven forefend! I would not kill thy soul.

Desdemona: talk you of killing?

Othello: Ay, I do.

Desdemona: Then heaven
Have mercy on me!

Othello: Amen, with all my heart!

Holden: when I did some serious sould searching it came to me from out of nowhere. And it all made sense and a calm came over me. I know what we have to do. And you, Banky, and you, Alyssa, and I, all of us, can finally be all right.

Alyssa: Please don’t say it.

Desdemona: If you say so, I hope you will not kill me.

Othello: Humh!

Desdemona: And yet I fear you; for you’re fatal then
When your eyes roll so. Why I should fear I know not,
Since guiltiness I know not; but yet I feel I fear.

Othello: Think on thy sins.

Desdemona: They are loves I bear to you.

Othello: Ay, and for that thou di’st.

Desdemona: That death’s unnatural that kills for loving.
Alas, why gnaw you so your nether lip?
Some bloody passion shakes your very frame.
These are portents; but yet I hope, I hope,
They do not point on me.

Kate: Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance; commits his body
To painful labor, both by sea and land;
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou li’st warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience—
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
And when she is forward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am asham’d that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.

Polonius: Marry, I will teach you: think yourself a baby
That you have ta’en these tenders for true pay,
Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly,
Or (not to crack the wind of the poor phrase,
Wringing it thus) you’ll tender me a fool.

Ophelia: My lord, he hath importun’d me with love
In honorable fashion.

Polonius: Ay, fashion you may call it. Go to, go to.

Ophelia: And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord,
With almost all the holy vows of heaven.

Holden: We’ve all got to have sex together. I mean look, don’t you see? That would take care of everything. Alyssa, with you, I won’t feel too inadequate or conservative anymore because I will have done something on par with all of your experience, and it’ll be with you, which will make it that much more powerful. And Banky, you can take that leap that everyone else but you sees you should take and it’ll be with me, your best friend for years. We’ve been everything to each other but intimates and now we’ll have been through that together, too. And it won’t be a total leap for you because a woman will be involved, and when it’s over all that hostility and aggression you feel toward Alyssa will be gone. Because you’ll have shared something beautiful with the woman I love. It’ll be cathartic. This will keep us together. What do you say?

Othello: Peace, and be still!

Desdemona: I will so. What’s the matter?

Othello: That handkerchief which I so lov’d, and gave thee,
Thou gav’st to Cassio.

Desdemona: No, by my life and soul!
Send for the man, and ask him.

Othello: Sweet soul, take heed,
Take heed of perjury, thou art on thy death-bed.

Desdemona: Ay, but not yet to die.

Othello: Yes, presently.
Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin;
For to deny each article with oath
Cannot remove nor choke th strong conception
That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.
Desdemoa: Then Lord have mercy on me!

Othello: I say, amen.

Kate: Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions, and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you forward and unable worse!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.

Banky: Sure.

Holden: You know I need this. You know it’ll help.

Alyssa: No.

Desdemona: And have you mercy too! I never did
Offend you in my life; never lov’d Cassio
But with such general warranty of heaven
As I might love. I never gave him token.

Othello: By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in ‘s hand.
O perjur’d woman, thou dost stone my heart,
And mak’st me call what I intend to do
A murther, which I thought a sacrifice.
I saw the handkerchief.

Desdemona: He found it then;
I never gave it him. Send for him hither;
Let him confess a truth.

Othello: He hath confess’d.

Desdemona: What, my lord?

Othello: That he hath us’d thee.

Desdemona: How? Unlawfully?

Othello: Ay.

Desdemona: He will not say so.

Othello: No—his mouth is stopp’d;
Honest Iago hath ta’en order for’t.

Desdemona: O, my fear interprets. What, is he dead?

Othello: Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
Had stomach for them all.

Polonius: Ay springes to catch woodcocks. I do know,
When the bolld burns, how prodigal the soul
Lends the tongue vows. These blazes, daughter,
Giving more light than heat, extinct in both
Even in their promise, as it is a-making,
You must not take for fire. From this time
Be something scanter of your maiden presence,
Set your entreatments at a higher rate
Than a command to parle. For Lord Hamlet,
Believe so much in him, that he is young,
And with a larger teder may he walk
Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia,
Do not believe his vows, for they are brokers,
Not of that dye which their investments show,
But mere implorators of unholy suits,
Breathing like sanctified and pious bonds,
The better beguile. This is for all:
I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth
Have you so slander any moment leisure
As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet.
Look to’t, I charge you. Come your ways.

Ophelia: I shall obey, my lord.

Kate: Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband’s foot;
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.

Banky: Thank Christ! (Holden glares at him.) Sorry.

Holden: No? I thought you’d be into this.

Alyssa: You did? What does that say about me?

Holden: But you’ve done stuff like this before. It should be no big deal.

Alyssa: You don’t want this. You really don’t want this.

Holden: No, I do want this. This has to happen. Can’t you see that? I mean, how can you not? No? What does that say about me? You can take it from two guys whose names you can hardly remember, but I ask you to share an experience like it where it’s about intimacy and you say no?

Alyssa: I can’t.

Holden: Baby, yes you can. I’m telling you, I’ll be there. And when it’s over we’ll be the strongest we’ve ever been, because we’ll have been through this together. And then we’ll be on the same level together and there’ll be nothing we can’t accomplish.

Desdemona: Alash, he is betray’d and I undone!

Othello: Out, strumpet! Weep’st thou for him to my face?

Desdemona: O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!

Othello: Down, strumpet!

Desdemona: Kill me to-morrow, let me live to-night!

Othello: Nay, an’ you strive—

Desdemona: But half an hour!

Othello: Being done, there is not pause.

Kate: On hating men. I would not advise killing them, poisoning their beef, or putting super hot peppers in their underwear. Just grit your teeth, recognize, and survive.

Alyssa: Oh, Holden. That time is over for me. I’ve been there and I’ve done it and I didn’t find what I was looking for in any of it. I found that in you. And us. Doing this won’t help you forget about the things you’re hung up on. It’ll just, it’ll create more.

Holden: No, it won’t. I’ve thought about all of that.

Alyssa: Yes, it will. Maybe you’ll see me differently from then on, you know? Or maybe you’ll despise me for going along with it once you’re in the moment. Maybe I’ll moan differently and then you’ll resent Banky and become suspicious of us, or you’ll alienate him because of it, and you’ll grow to blame and hate me for the deterioration of your friendship. And what if, oh God, I sincerely doubt it, but what if I saw something in Banky I had never seen before, you know, and I fell in love with him and left you. I’ve been down roads like this before many times. I know you feel doing this will broaden your horizons and give you experience but I’ve had those experiences on my own, and I can’t accompany you on yours I’m past that now. Or maybe I just love you too much and I feel hurt and let down that you would want to share me with anyone because I would never want to share you. Regardless, I can’t be a part of this. Or you. Not anymore. I love you. I always will. You know that. (Slaps him.)

Desdemona: But while I say one prayer!

Othello: It is too late [Smothers her.]

Desdemona: O Lord, Lord, Lord!

Ophelia: My lord, I have remembrances of yours
That I have longed long to redeliver.
I pray you now receive them.

Alyssa: But I’m not your fucking whore. (To Banky) He’s yours again.
Taming of the Shrew 2.1.276-78

Petruchio: For I am he am born to tame you, Kate,
And bring you from a wild Kate to a Kate
Conformable as other household Kates
ToS 3.2.8-20

Kate: I must forooth be forc’d
To give my hand oppos’d against my heart
Unto a mad-brain rudesby full of spleen,
Who woo’d in haste, and means to wed at leisure.
I told you, I, he was a frantic fool,
Hiding his bitter jests in blunt behavior;
And to be noted for a merry man,
He’ll woo a thousand, ‘point the day of marriage,
Make friends, invite, and proclaim the banes,
Yet never means to wed where he hath woo’d.
Now must the world point at poor Katherine,
And say, “Lo, there is mad Petruchio’s wife,
If it would please him come and marry her!”
ToS 4.3.73-80

Kate: Why, sir, I trust I may have leave to speak,
And speak I will. I am no child, no babe;
Your betters have endur’d me say my mind,
And if you cannot, best you stop your ears.
My tongue will tell the anger of my heart,
Or else my heart concealing it will break,
And rather than it shall, I will be free,
Even to the uttermost, as I please, in words.
ToS 5.2.136-179

Kate: Fie, fie, unkint that threat’ning unking brow,
And dart not scornful glances from those eyes,
To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor.
It blots thy beauty, as frosts do bite the meads,
Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds,
And in no sense is meet or amiable.
A woman mov’d is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty,
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it.
Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper,
Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee,
And for thy maintenance; commits his body
To painful labor, both by sea and land;
To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
Whilst thou li’st warm at home, secure and safe;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands
But love, fair looks, and true obedience-
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband;
And when she is forward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am asham’d that women are so simple
To offer war where they should kneel for peace,
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world,
But that our soft conditions, and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?
Come, come, you forward and unable worms!
My mind hath been as big as one of yours,
My heart as great, my reason haply more,
To bandy word for word and frown for frown;
But now I see our lances are but straws,
Our strength as weak, our weakness past compare,
That seeming to be most which we indeed least are.
Then vail your stomachs, for it is no boot,
And place your hands below your husband’s foot;
In token of which duty, if he please,
My hand is ready, may it do him ease.
Two Gentlemen of Verona 4.4.90-205

Julia: How many women would do such a message?
Alas, poor Proteus, thou hast entertain’d
A fox to be the shepherd of thy lambs.
Alas, poor fool, why do I pity him
That with his very heart despiseth me?
Because he loves her, he despiseth me;
Because I love him, I must pity him.
This ring I gave him when he parted from me,
To bind him to remember my good will;
And now am I (unhappy messenger)
To plead for that which I would not obtain,
To carry that which I would have refus’d,
To praise his fiath which I would have disprais’d.
I am my master’s true confirmed love;
But cannot be true servant to my master,
Unless I prove false traitor to myself.
Yet will I woo for him, but yet so coldly
As, heaven it knows, I would not have him speed.
[Enter] Silvia [attended]
Gentlewoman, good day; I pray you be my mean
To bring me where to speak with Madam Silvia.

Silvia: What would you with her, if that I be she?

Julia: If you be she, I do entreat your patience
To hear me speak the message I am sent on.

Silvia: From whom?

Julia: From my master, Sir Proteus, madam.

Silvia: O, he sends you for a picture?

Julia: Ay, madam.

Silvia: Ursula, bring my picture there.
Go give your master this. Tell him from me,
One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
Would better fit his chamber than this shadow.

Julia: Madam, please you peruse this letter-
Pardon me, madam, I have unadvis’d
Deliver’d you a paper that I should not:
This is the letter to your ladyship.

Silvia: I pray thee let me look on that again.

Julia: It may not be; good mada, pardon me.

Silvia: There, hold!
I will not look upon your master’s lines;
I know they are stuff’d with protestations,
And full of new-found oaths, which he will break
As easily as I do tear his paper.

Julia: Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.

Silvia: The more shame for him that he sends it me;
For I have heard him say a thousand times
His Julia gave it him at his departure:
Though his false finger have profan’d the ring,
Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.

Julia: She thanks you.

Silvia: What say’st thou?

Julia: I thank you, madam, that you tender her.
Poor gentlewoman, my master wrongs her much.

Silvia: Dost thou know her?

Julia: Almost as well as I do know myself.
To think upon her woes I do protest
That I have wept a hundred several times.

Silvia: Belike she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her?

Julia: I think she doth; and that’s her cause of sorrow.

Silvia: Is she not passing fair?

Julia: She hath been fairer, madam, than she is:
When se did think my master lov’d her well,
She, in my judgment, was a fair as you;
But since she did meglect her looking-glass,
And threw her sun-expelling mask away,
The air hath starv’d the roses in her cheeks,
And pinch’d the lily-tincture of her face,
That now she is become as black as i.

Silvia: How tall was she?

Julia: About my stature; for at Pentecost,
When all oru pageants of delight were play’d,
Our youth got me to play the woman’s part,
And I was trimm’d in Madam Julia’s gown,
Which served me as fit, by all men’s judgments,
As if the garment had been made for me;
There fore I know she is about my height.
And at that time I made her weep agood,
For I did play a lamentable part.
Madam, ‘twas Ariadne passioning
For Theseus’ perjury and unjust flight;
Which I so lively acted with my tears
That my poor mistress, moved therewithal,
Wept bitterly; and would I might be dead
If I in thought felt not her very sorrow.

Silvia: She is beholding to thee, gentle youth.
Alas, poor lady, desolate and left!
I weep myself to think upon thy words.
Here, youth, there is my purse; I give thee this
For thy sweet mistress’ sake, because thou lov’st her.

Julia: And she shall thank you for’t, if e’er you know her.
[Exit Silvia with Attendants]
A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful!
I hope my master’s suit will be but cold,
Since she respects my mistress’ love so much.
Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
Here is her picture: let me see; I think
If I had such a tire, this face of mine
Were full as lovely as is this of hers;
And yet the painter flatter’d her a little,
Unless I flatter with myself too much.
Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow:
If that be all the difference in his love,
I’ll get me such a color’d periwig.
Her eyes are grey as glass, and so are mine;
Ay, but her forehead’s low, and mine’s as high.
What should it be that he respects in her,
But I can make respective in myself,
If this fond Love were not a blinded god?
Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up,
For ‘tis thy rival. O thou senseless form,
Thou shalt be worshipp’d, kiss’d, lov’d, and ador’d;
And were there sense in his idolatry,
My substance should be statue in thy stead.
I’ll use thee kindly for thy mistress’ sake
That us’d me so; or else, by Jove I vow,
I should have scratch’d out your unseeing eyes,
To make my master out of love with thee.
A Winter’s Tale 1.2.27-33

Leontes: Tongue-tied our queen? Speak you.

Hermione: I had thought, sir, to have held my peacue until
You had drawn oaths from him not to stay. You, sir,
Charge him too coldly. Tell him you are sure
All in Bohemia’s well; this satisfaction
The by-gone day proclaim’d. Say this to him,
He’s beat from his best ward.
WT 1.2.46-56

Hermione: Verily?
You put me off with limber vos; but I,
Though you would seek t’ unsphere the stars with oaths,
Should yet say, “Sir, no going.” Verily,
You shall not go; a lady’s “verily” is
As potent as a lord’s. Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
Not like a guest: so you shall pay your feels
When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?
My prisoner? Or my guest? By your dread “verily,”
One of them you shall be.
WT 1.2.86-108

Leontes: Is he won yet?

Hermione: He’ll stay, my lord.

Leontes: At my request he would not.

Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok’st
To better purpose.

Hermione: Never?

Leontes: Never, but once.

Hermione: What? have I twice said well? When was’t before?
I prithee tell me; cram ‘s with praise, and make ‘s
As fat as tame things. One good deed dying tongueless
Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.
Our praises are our wages. You may ride ‘s
With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere With spur we heat an acre. But to th’ goal:
My last good deed was to entreat his stay;
What was my first? It has an elder sister,
Or I mistake you. O, would her name were Grace!
But once before I spoke to th’ purpose? when?
Nay, let me have’t; I long.

Leontes: Why, that was when
Three crabbed months had sour’d themselves to death,
Ere I could make thee open thy white hand,
And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter,
“I am yours for ever.”

Hermione: ‘Tis Grace indeed.
Why, lo you now! I have spoke to th’purpose twice:

The one for ever earn’d a royal husband;
Th’other for some while a friend.
WT 2.3.26-130
1. Lord: You must not enter.

Paulina: Nay, rather, good my lords, be second to me.
Fear you his tyrannous passion more, alas,
Than the Queen’s life? A gracious innocent soul,
More free than he is jealous.
Antigonus: That’s enough.
2 Servant: Madam-he hath not slept to-night, commanded
Non should come at him.

Paulina: Not so hot, good sir,
I come to bring him sleep. ‘Tis such as you,
That creep like shadows by him, and do sigh
At each his needless heavings, such as you
Nourish the cause of his awaking. I
Do come with words as medicinal as true,
Honest as either, to purge him of that humor
That presses him from sleep.

Leontes: [What]noise there, ho?

Paulina: No noise, my lord, but needful conference
About some gossips for you Highness.

Leontes: How?
Away with that audacious lady! Antigonus,
I charg’d thee that she should not come about me:
I knew she would.
Antigonus: I told her so, my lord,
On your displeausrue’s peril and on mine,
She should not visit you.

Leontes: What? canst not rule her?

Paulina: From all dishonesty he can. In this,
Unless he take the course that you have done-
Commit me for committing honor-trust it,
He shall not rule me.
Antigonus: La you now, you hear!
When she will take the rein I let her run.
[Aside] But she’ll not stumble.

Paulina: Good my liege, I come-
And I beseech you hear me, who professes
Myself your loyal servant, your physician,
Your most obedient counselor; yet that dares
Less appear so, in comforting your evils,
Than such as most seem yours-I say, I come
From your good queen.

Leontes: Good queen?

Paulina: Good queen, my lord, good queen, I say good queen,
And would by combat make her good, so were I
A man, the worst about you.

Leontes: Force her hence.

Paulina: Let him that makes but trifles of his eyes
First hand me. On mine own accord I’ll off,
But first I’ll do my errand. The good queen
(For she is good) hath brought you forth a daughter-
Here ‘tis-commends it to your blessing.
[Laying down the child.]

Leontes: Out!
A mankind witch! Hence with her, out o’door!
A most intelligencing bawd!

Paulina: Not so.
I am as ignorant in that, as you
In so entit’ling me; and no less honest
Than you are mad; which is enough, I’ll warrant
(as this world goes), to pass for honest.

Leontes: Traitors!
Will you not push her out? [To Antigonus.] Give her the bastard,
Thou dotard, thou art woman-tir’d; unroosted
By thy Dame Partlet here. Take up the bastard,
Take’t up, I say; give’t to thy crone.

Paulina: For ever
Unvenerable be thy hands, if thou
Tak’st up the Princess by that forced baseness
Which he has put upon’t!

Leontes: He dreads his wife.

Paulina: So I would you did; then ‘twere past al doubt
You’ld call your children yours.

Leontes: A nest of traitors!
Antigonus: I am none, by this good light.

Paulina: Nor I, nor any
But one that’s here-and that’s himself; for he
The sacred honor of himself, his queen’s,
His hopeful son’s, his babe’s, betrays to slander,
Whose sting is sharper than the sword’s, and will not
(For as the case now stands, it is a curse
He cannot be compell’d to’t) once remove
The root of his opinion, which is rotten
As ever oak or stone was sound.

Leontes: A callat
Of boundless tongue, who late hath beat her husband,
And now baits me! This brat is none of mine,
It is the issue of Polixenes.
Hence with it, and together with the dam
Commit them to the fire!

Paulina: It is yours:
And might we lay th’old proverb to your charge,
So like you, ‘tis the worse. Behold, my lords,
Although the print be little, the whole matter
And copy of the father—eye, nose, lip,
The trick of’s frown, his forehead, nay, the valley,
The pretty dimples of his chin and cheek, his smiles,
The very mould and frame of hand, nail, finger.
And thou, good goddess Nature, which hast made it
So like to him that got it, if thou hast
The ordering of the mind too, ‘mongst all colors
No yellow in’t, lest she suspect, as he does,
Her children not her husband’s!

Leontes: A gross hag!
And, lozel, thou art worthy to be hang’d,
That wilt not stay her tongue.
Antigonus: Hang all the husbands
That cannot do that feat, you’ll leave yourself
Hardly one subject.

Leontes: Once more, take her hence.

Paulina:A most unworthy and unnatural lord
Can do no more.

Leontes: I’ll ha’ thee burnt.

Paulina: I care not:
It is an heretic that makes the fire,
Not she which burns in’t. I’ll not call you tyrant;
But this most cruel usage of your queen
(Not able to produce more accusation
Than your own weak-hing’d fancy) something savors
Of tyranny, and will ignoble make you,
Yea, scandalous to the world.

Leontes: On your allegiance,
Out of the chamber with her! Were I a tyrant,
Where were her life? She durst not call me so,
If she did know me one. Away with her!

Paulina: I pray you do not push me, I’ll be gone
Look to your babe, my lord, ‘tis yours. Jove send her
A better gyiding spirit! What needs these hands?
You, that are thus so tender o’er his follies,
Will never do him good, not one of you.
So, so. Farewell, we are gone.