This is incredible! I adore your interpretation of Phoebe’s character! I am about to play her in about a week and I gotta say I am pretty nervous. Obviously, even if the play is adapted to my native language the idea is still the same and this pretty much helps! Keep up the good work! If you have any other tips for playing Phoebe I would appreciate it so much! Especially thoughts on the scene in which she is angry at Silvius and then when she falls in love with Rosalind at first sight.. that is kind of tricky to portray!
PHOEBE 120Think not I love him, though I ask for him. 'Tis but a peevish boy-yet he talks well- But what care I for words? Yet words do well When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. It is a pretty youth-not very pretty- 125But sure he’s proud-and yet his pride becomes him. He’ll make a proper man. The best thing in him Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue Did make offense, his eye did heal it up. He is not very tall-yet for his years he’s tall. 130His leg is but so-so-and yet ’tis well. There was a pretty redness in his lip, A little riper and more lusty red Than that mixed in his cheek: ’twas just the difference Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. 135There be some women, Silvius, had they marked him In parcels as I did, would have gone near To fall in love with him; but for my part I love him not nor hate him not; and yet I have more cause to hate him than to love him. 140For what had he to do to chide at me? He said mine eyes were black and my hair black And, now I am remembered, scorned at me. I marvel why I answered not again. But that’s all one: omittance is no quittance. 145I’ll write to him a very taunting letter, And thou shalt bear it. Wilt thou, Silvius?
@@drgordonsbonesaw okay well there’s a lot of good ones but the “Hold Thy desperate Hand” monologue from Romeo and Juliet is really good. Here’s the link to it - www.monologuearchive.com/s/shakespeare_072.html
Think not I love him, though I ask for him; 'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well. But what care I for words? Yet words do well When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. It is a pretty youth- not very pretty; But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes him. He'll make a proper man. The best thing in him Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue Did make offence, his eye did heal it up. He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall; His leg is but so-so; and yet 'tis well. There was a pretty redness in his lip, A little riper and more lusty red Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him In parcels as I did, would have gone near To fall in love with him; but, for my part, I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet I have more cause to hate him than to love him: For what had he to do to chide at me? He said mine eyes were black, and my hair black, And, now I am rememb'red, scorn'd at me. I marvel why I answer'd not again; But that's all one: omittance is no quittance. I'll write to him a very taunting letter, And thou shalt bear it; wilt thou, Silvius?
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Yet again you nailed the character!!! Love it every second.
Thank you.
The smile, the frown, the disdain, the mischief... everything becomes u so well 😍
I absolutely love your work, I hope we share a stage one day
Many thanks, Sawyer. We don't know what the future holds.
This is incredible! I adore your interpretation of Phoebe’s character! I am about to play her in about a week and I gotta say I am pretty nervous. Obviously, even if the play is adapted to my native language the idea is still the same and this pretty much helps! Keep up the good work! If you have any other tips for playing Phoebe I would appreciate it so much! Especially thoughts on the scene in which she is angry at Silvius and then when she falls in love with Rosalind at first sight.. that is kind of tricky to portray!
PHOEBE
120Think not I love him, though I ask for him.
'Tis but a peevish boy-yet he talks well-
But what care I for words? Yet words do well
When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
It is a pretty youth-not very pretty-
125But sure he’s proud-and yet his pride becomes him.
He’ll make a proper man. The best thing in him
Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
Did make offense, his eye did heal it up.
He is not very tall-yet for his years he’s tall.
130His leg is but so-so-and yet ’tis well.
There was a pretty redness in his lip,
A little riper and more lusty red
Than that mixed in his cheek: ’twas just the difference
Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.
135There be some women, Silvius, had they marked him
In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him; but for my part
I love him not nor hate him not; and yet
I have more cause to hate him than to love him.
140For what had he to do to chide at me?
He said mine eyes were black and my hair black
And, now I am remembered, scorned at me.
I marvel why I answered not again.
But that’s all one: omittance is no quittance.
145I’ll write to him a very taunting letter,
And thou shalt bear it. Wilt thou, Silvius?
Loved your expression and the way it changes...😊
That Was The Best Voice Than Juliette Reilly In 2011, Wearing A Flower Dress [Purple]
my school is doing this play and I really really wanna be this character...any good monolouges?
Depends on what you mean by that, do you want to say a monologue from As you like it, or do you want to do just a good monologue in general?
@@drgordonsbonesaw okay well there’s a lot of good ones but the “Hold Thy desperate Hand” monologue from Romeo and Juliet is really good. Here’s the link to it - www.monologuearchive.com/s/shakespeare_072.html
duck duck chan thank you!!!
@@drgordonsbonesaw no problem!
:-)
Think not I love him, though I ask for him;
'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well.
But what care I for words? Yet words do well
When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.
It is a pretty youth- not very pretty;
But, sure, he's proud; and yet his pride becomes
him.
He'll make a proper man. The best thing in him
Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue
Did make offence, his eye did heal it up.
He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall;
His leg is but so-so; and yet 'tis well.
There was a pretty redness in his lip,
A little riper and more lusty red
Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the
difference
Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask.
There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him
In parcels as I did, would have gone near
To fall in love with him; but, for my part,
I love him not, nor hate him not; and yet
I have more cause to hate him than to love him:
For what had he to do to chide at me?
He said mine eyes were black, and my hair black,
And, now I am rememb'red, scorn'd at me.
I marvel why I answer'd not again;
But that's all one: omittance is no quittance.
I'll write to him a very taunting letter,
And thou shalt bear it; wilt thou, Silvius?