The first ever production of the Douglass Blvd. Christian Church Drama Geeks will be a production of William Shakespeare's play A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Auditions will be held on Tuesday, July 1 from 6pm-9pm. Applicants can either choose an excerpt below, or prepare a monologue of their own choosing.
If you have any questions, concerns, or would like to make an appointment besides the times listed, feel free to call the stage manager, Simon Isham, at 502-407-2452.
We hope to see you there!
Lysander riddles very prettily: Now much beshrew my manners and my pride, If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied. But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy Lie further off; in human modesty, So far be distant; and, good night, sweet friend: Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end!
You do impeach your modesty too much, To leave the city and commit yourself Into the hands of one that loves you not; To trust the opportunity of night And the ill counsel of a desert place With the rich worth of your virginity.
Having once this juice, I'll watch Titania when she is asleep, And drop the liquor of it in her eyes. The next thing then she waking looks upon, Be it on lion, bear, or wolf, or bull, On meddling monkey, or on busy ape, She shall pursue it with the soul of love: And ere I take this charm from off her sight, As I can take it with another herb, I'll make her render up her page to me.
A play there is, my lord, some ten words long, Which is as brief as I have known a play; But by ten words, my lord, it is too long, Which makes it tedious; for in all the play There is not one word apt, one player fitted: And tragical, my noble lord, it is; For Pyramus therein doth kill himself. Which, when I saw rehearsed, I must confess
I was with Hercules and Cadmus once, When in a wood of Crete they bayed the bear With hounds of Sparta. Never did I hear So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.
These are the forgeries of jealousy: And never, since the middle summer's spring, Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead, To dance our ringlets to the whistling wind. But with thy brawls, thou hast disturbed our sport. Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, Have sucked up from the sea contagious fogs;
If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend: if you pardon, we will mend: And, as I am an honest Puck, If we have unearned luck Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, We will make amends ere long; Else the Puck a liar call; So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.
If we offend, it is with our good will. That you should think, we come not to offend, But with good will. To show our simple skill, That is the true beginning of our end. Consider then we come but in despite. We do not come as minding to content you, Our true intent is. All for your delight, We are not here. That you should here repent you, The actors are at hand and by their show You shall know all that you are like to know.
That will ask some tears in the true performing of it. If I do it, let the audience look to their eyes: I will move storms. I will condole in some measure. The rest yet, my chief humour is for a tyrant. I could play Hercules rarely, or a part to tear a cat in, to make all split. "The raging rocks And shivering shocks Shall break the locks Of prison gates; And Phibbus' car Shall shine from far And make and mar...the foolish Fates." That was lofty! Now name the rest of the players.
I am, my lord, as well derived as he, As well possessed; my love is more than his; My fortunes every way as fairly ranked, If not with vantage, as Demetrius'; And, which is more than all these boasts can be, I am beloved of beauteous Hermia: Why should not I then prosecute my right?
Full of vexation come I, with complaint Against my child, my daughter Hermia. Stand forth, Demetrius. My noble lord, This man hath my consent to marry her. Stand forth, Lysander. And my gracious duke, He hath bewitched the bosom of my child; Thou, thou, Lysander, thou hast given her rhymes, And interchanged love-tokens with my child: Thou hast by moonlight at her window sung, With feigning voice verses of feigning love, And stolen the impression of her fantasy With bracelets of thy hair, rings, gawds, conceits, With cunning hast thou filched my daughter's heart, Turned her obedience (which is due to me) To stubborn harshness.
HELIOS (formerly Helena. to be male for this production)
Wherefore was I to this keen mockery born? When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? Is't not enough, is't not enough, young man, That I did never, no, nor never can, Deserve a sweet look from Demetrius' eye, But you must flout my insufficiency? Good troth, you do me wrong, good sooth, you do, In such disdainful manner me to woo. But fare you well: perforce I must confess I thought you lord of more true gentleness. O, that a lady, of one man refused. Should of another therefore be abused!