Classical Monologues: Chosen

It's difficult to find good modern dramatic monologues, but I've requested some books at the library so maybe I can choose something from them.

I did find two classical monologues (one dramatic, one comedic)...I decided to do both from Shakespeare, as I am not as well versed in the Greek plays (although I will probably do some research so I do know more about them). These, however, are not as common as doing Ophelia or Lady MacBeth, but they are two monologues that I really love and two characters adore. :)

The dramatic monologue is Joan from Henry VI:

JOAN LA PUCELLE
First, let me tell you whom you have condemn'd:
Not me begotten of a shepherd swain,
But issued from the progeny of kings;
Virtuous and holy; chosen from above,
By inspiration of celestial grace,
To work exceeding miracles on earth.
I never had to do with wicked spirits:
But you, that are polluted with your lusts,
Stain'd with the guiltless blood of innocents,
Corrupt and tainted with a thousand vices,
Because you want the grace that others have,
You judge it straight a thing impossible
To compass wonders but by help of devils.
No, misconceived! Joan of Arc hath been
A virgin from her tender infancy,
Chaste and immaculate in very thought;
Whose maiden blood, thus rigorously effused,
Will cry for vengeance at the gates of heaven.

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My comedic monologue is Viola from Twelfth Night, or What You Will:

I left no ring with her: what means this lady?
Fortune forbid my outside have not charm'd her!
She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion
Invites me in this churlish messenger.
None of my lord's ring! why, he sent her none.
I am the man: if it be so, as 'tis,
Poor lady, she were better love a dream.
Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness,
Wherein the pregnant enemy does much.
How easy is it for the proper-false
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms!
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we!
For such as we are made of, such we be.
How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly;
And I, poor monster, fond as much on him;
And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me.
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love;
As I am woman,.now alas the day!.
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
O time! thou must untangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me to untie!


So, here we go...memorization with the goal of auditioning this fall, both at CIU (if they are holding auditions) and in Columbia (Town Theatre, Workshop Theatre).

...If that doesn't happen, I can at least read plays aloud with friends and act them out.