Plays

1. The will of man is by his reason sway'd;

2. And reason says you are the worthier maid.

My comment would look like this:

Passage 1 - "reason says you are the worthier maid" is an example of personification.

Try 2-10:

2. Lysander to Hermia (Act I, scene i):

From Athens is her house remote seven leagues;

And she respects me as her only son.

There, gentle Hermia, may I marry thee;

And to that place the sharp Athenian law

Cannot pursue us.

3. Helena to Hermia (Act I, scene i):

O that your frowns would teach my smiles such skill!

4. Lysander to Hermia (Act I, scene i):

Helen, to you our minds we will unfold:

To-morrow night, when Phoebe doth behold

Her silver visage in the watery glass,

Decking with liquid pearl the bladed grass,-

5. Hermia to Helena (Act I, scene i):

And in the wood, where often you and I

Upon faint primrose-beds were wont to lie,

Emptying our bosoms of their counsel sweet,

6. Helena to Hermia and Lysander (Act I, scene i):

Love can transpose to form and dignity:

Love looks not with the eyes, but with themind;

And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind:

7. Fairy to Puck (Act II, scene ii):

Type in http://www.broadwayjr.com/ then click on "Audition Central." A list of shows will come up, select the obvious one (Annie Jr.). There you should be able to see itty bits of scripts, scores, and breakdowns of each character. ! =)

SCRIPTMiss Hannigan

SIDE 1

(MISS HANNIGAN, wearing a bathrobe, flings open her door and, witch-like, stands bathed in white light before ANNIE)

MISS HANNIGAN: Aha! Caught you! (Flings ANNIE to the floor and switches on the hallway light. LIGHTS brighten) Get up. Get up!

ANNIE: (Getting up, warily) Yes, Miss Hannigan.

MISS HANNIGAN: Turn around. (ANNIE doesn't) I said turn around. (ANNIE turns around and MISS HANNIGAN hits her on the backside with a paddle) There! Now, what do you say? What… do… you… say?

ANNIE: (Reluctantly; through her teeth) I love you, Miss Hannigan.

MISS HANNIGAN: Rotten orphan.

ANNIE: (Angrily) I'm not an orphan. My mother and father left a note saying they loved me and they were coming back for me.

MISS HANNIGAN: That was 1922; this is 1933. (Switches on the LIGHT in the dormitory, sticks her head through the door and BLOWS her whistle) Get up! Now, for this one's shenanigans, you'll all get down on your knobby little knees and clean this dump until it shines like the top of the Chrysler Building!

TESSIE: (Starting to cry) But it's four o'clock in the morning.

MISS HANNIGAN: (Laughs cruelly) Get to work.

ANNIE, ORPHANS: Yes, Miss Hannigan

MISS HANNIGAN: Now! (Orphans run for pails and return to front) Why any kid would want to be an orphan, I'll never know.

SCRIPTMr. Warbucks

SIDE 1

WARBUCKS: (OFFSTAGE) Where is everybody? (OLIVER WARBUCKS, trailed by a uniformed CHAUFFEUR, comes bustling in. WARBUCKS is carrying a bulging briefcase and the CHAUFFEUR is carrying two suitcases. WARBUCKS takes off his overcoat and hands it to DRAKE) Hello, everybody.

SERVANTS: Sir.

GRACE: Welcome home, Mr. Warbucks.

WARBUCKS: It's good to be home.

DRAKE: How was your flight from Chicago?

WARBUCKS: Not bad… only took eleven hours. Grace?

GRACE: (Eagerly) Yes, sir?

WARBUCKS: Messages?

GRACE: (consulting a notepad) President Roosevelt wants you to call him at the White House.

WARBUCKS: I'll get back to him tomorrow.

GRACE: (Trying to introduce ANNIE to WARBUCKS) Mr. Warbucks…

WARBUCKS: All right, good to see you all again.

SERVANTS: Sir.

WARBUCKS: Drake, dismiss the staff.

DRAKE: Yes, sir.

(The SERVANTS, not including GRACE, EXIT; WARBUCKS turns to speak to GRACE and, for the first time, notices ANNIE)

WARBUCKS: And, Grace, if you'll get your notebook… Who is that?

GRACE: This is Annie, Mr. Warbucks: the orphan who will be with us for Christmas.

WARBUCKS: That's not a boy. Orphans are boys.

GRACE: I'm sorry, sir, you just said "orphan". So, I chose a girl.

WARBUCKS: Well, I suppose she'll have to do. (Frowningly approaching ANNIE, assessing her) Annie, huh? Annie what?

ANNIE: (Nervously) Oh, I'm just Annie, Mr. Warbucks, sir. I haven't got any last name. I'm sorry I'm not a boy.

WARBUCKS: (Obviously not meaning it) Not at all. I couldn't be happier. Grace, we'll start with the figures on the iron-ore shipments from… Toledo to… (Made uncomfortable by the presence of ANNIE, aside to GRACE) What are we supposed to do with this child?

GRACE: (Aside to WARBUCKS) It is her first night here, sir.

WARBUCKS: (Aside to GRACE) Hmm. (To ANNIE) Well, Annie, I guess we ought to do something special on your first night. (Has an idea) Would you like to go to a movie?

ANNIE: (Checking GRACE to see if this would be all right; GRACE nods "yes") Gosh, Mr. Warbucks, I've never been to one.

WARBUCKS: Then you'll go to the Roxy. And then an ice-cream soda at Rumpelmayer's and a hansom cab ride around Central Park.

ANNIE: Golly!

WARBUCKS: Grace, forget about the dictation for tonight. Instead, you take Annie to the movies.

GRACE: Yes, sir.

ANNIE: (Obviously disappointed about something) Aw, gee.

WARBUCKS: Something the matter, Annie?

ANNIE: It's just that… well… I thought you were going to take me.

WARBUCKS: Oh, no, I'm afraid I'll be far too busy tonight.

ANNIE: Aw, gee.

SIDE 2

WARBUCKS: Ah, finally. (Opening the envelope, taking out a letter, and reading it) Agent Gunderson located the manufacturer of Annie's locket. In Utica, New York.

ANNIE: Oh, boy! (CROSSES to WARBUCKS, excited)

WARBUCKS: Over ninety thousand were made and sold.

ANNIE: Aw, gee.

WARBUCKS: Annie, I'm afraid the F.B.I. doesn't think that there's a chance in a million of tracing your parents through the locket. I'm sorry. (Takes the locket from the envelope and puts it on ANNIE)

ANNIE: (CROSSING to the settee and sitting down dejectedly) That's okay. You did your best. Anyway, I guess a kid can get along without folks. You didn't turn out so bad.

WARBUCKS: Grace?

GRACE: Yes, sir?

WARBUCKS: Do you have those legal papers I gave you the other day?

GRACE: Right here!

WARBUCKS: (CROSSES to the settee with ANNIE and sits)Annie. I want to adopt you.

ANNIE: Adopt me?

WARBUCKS: Yes or no?

ANNIE: If I can't have my real mother and father, there's no one in the world I'd rather have for a father than you, Mr. Warbucks! (They hug. As ANNIE and WARBUCKS embrace, GRACE starts to join them, but then catches herself, realizing that it is their moment, and steps back in embarrassment)

WARBUCKS: (Picking up ANNIE and swinging her around)Annie, this isn't just going to be an adoption, it's going to be a celebration! And you can have anyone in the world you want to come to it. Who would you like?

ANNIE: Well, I guess I'd like Miss Farrell here. And Mr. Drake. And Mrs. Pugh. And, well, everybody here.

WARBUCKS: Drake?

DRAKE: (ENTERING) Yes, sir.

WARBUCKS: Tell the staff to get spiffed up. They're going to be the guests at Annie's adoption party.

DRAKE: Yes, sir! (Skips off for joy)

ANNIE: Oh, and the kids.

WARBUCKS: It'll be way past their bedtime now. But I'll tell you what, we'll have everyone from the Orphanage here tomorrow for a big Christmas party.

ANNIE: Miss Hannigan, too?

WARBUCKS: (Generous) Why not?

SIDE 3

(DRAKE leads in ROOSTER and LILY, in their disguises as RALPH and SHIRLEY MUDGE)

ROOSTER: Excuse us, folks… Shirley, look. There's our Annie.

ANNIE: Who are you?

LILY: Honey, we're your Mom and Dad.

ROOSTER: Mudge is the name. Ralph Mudge. And this here is the wife, Shirley.

LILY: And you're Annie Mudge.

WARBUCKS: Annie Mudge?

LILY: We loved you, Annie, but we had to leave you behind.

GRACE: We've seen a great number of people who've…

ROOSTER: I expect you'll be wantin' proof of who we are. Here's our driver's licenses and Annie's birth certificate. (Takes them out and offers them to GRACE)

GRACE: (Takes the birth certificate and reads) "Baby girl, Name, Ann Elizabeth Mudge, born to Ralph and Shirley Mudge. New York, New York, October 28th, 1922."

ANNIE: October 28th, that's my birthday.

LILY: Ralph, look! Annie's wearin' the locket!

ROOSTER: (To WARBUCKS and GRACE, taking out a piece of locket) When we left Annie at the Orphanage, we left half of a silver locket with her and kept the other half. (Fits it quickly to ANNIE'S LOCKET and then puts it back in his pocket) Yes. It fits perfectly.

LILY: Oh, thank God, Ralph, she's our Annie.

WARBUCKS: Mr. Mudge, what about the money?

ROOSTER: Well, we ain't got much, but we'd glad to give you whatever…

WARBUCKS: You haven't heard that I've offered a certified check for fifty thousand dollars to anyone who can prove they are Annie's parents?

ROOSTER: No, sir. Anyway, we don't want no money.

LILY: On the other hand, Ralph, remember that little pig farm out in New Jersey? With fifty thousand dollars, we could afford to bring Annie up right. In the country.

WARBUCKS: Would you mind if Annie stayed here until tomorrow morning, Christmas? Then you could come back to pick up Annie and the check.

ROOSTER: Whatever you prefer, sir.

LILY: 'Bye, Annie, love.

ROOSTER: Until tomorrow morning, honey. And then you'll be spendin' the rest of your life with us. (As ROOSTER and LILY step back toward the door; ROOSTER bumps into GRACE, as in SCENE SIX) Oops, pardon me, blondie. Merry Christmas.

(Suspicious, GRACE watches as ROOSTER and LILY EXIT STAGE RIGHT. ALL, especially ANNIE, are deeply steeped in gloom)

WARBUCKS: Well… this is…

GRACE: Wonderful news.

WARBUCKS: Drake. Champagne.

DRAKE: Yes, sir.

WARBUCKS: We must celebrate. Because we've just had the most wonderful news in the world. Annie has found her mother and father. I propose a toast. (ALL raise glasses) To Annie Mudge.

GRACE: To Annie Mudge. (ANNIE looks at the glasses, extended in toast, and bolts upstairs and EXITS. GRACE follows ANNIE halfway upstairs)

GRACE: Annie!

WARBUCKS: I've lost her. I've lost Annie.

GRACE: Sir, I have the strangest feeling that I've seen that Mr. Mudge before, that he's not who he says he is.

WARBUCKS: Then I won't give her up 'til we're certain.

GRACE: But how…?

WARBUCKS: I'll find a way! I'll go straight to the top - to the President of the United States. Even if he is a Democrat!

Foreman

The foreman is described in the author's notes to the play as "a small, petty man who is impressed with the authority he has." The foreman tries to run the meeting in an orderly fashion, but in the film he is too sensitive and sulks when his attempt to stick to the way they had agreed to proceed is questioned. His contribution to the deliberations comes when they are discussing how long the killer would have taken to get downstairs. The foreman points out that since the killer wiped his fingerprints off the knife, he would also have done so off the doorknob, which would have taken some time. He votes guilty several times, but in act 3 he switches his vote, along with two others, to make the total nine to three for acquittal.

Juror Two

Juror Two is a quiet, meek figure who finds it difficult to maintain an independent opinion. In the 1957 film, he is a bank clerk. Juror Two does, however, make one useful contribution to the jury deliberations. He mentions that it seems awkward that the defendant, who was six inches shorter than his father, would stab him with a downward motion, as the fatal wound indicates. Although this is not a conclusive point, it does jog Juror Five's memory of how a switchblade is used and so helps to induce doubt in the minds of a number of jurors. Juror Two changes his vote to not guilty at the beginning of act 3, along with Jurors Eleven and Six.

Juror Three

Juror Three is a forceful, intolerant man who is also a bully. In the 1957 film, he runs a messenger service called Beck and Call. He believes that there is no point in discussing the case, since the defendant's guilt is plain, and he is quick to insult and browbeat anyone who suggests otherwise. At one point, Juror Three describes how he fell out with his son. He raised his son to be tough, but when the boy was fifteen, he hit his father in the face, and Juror Three has not seen his son for three years. He condemns his son as ungrateful.

As the play develops, it becomes clear that Juror Three is the principal antagonist of Juror Eight. This is brought out visually when Juror Three demonstrates on Juror Eight how he would use a knife to stab a taller man. His animosity to Juror Eight comes out in the aggressive way he makes the demonstration, which shocks some of the jurors. Also, when Juror Eight calls him a sadist, Juror Three is incensed and threatens to kill him.

Juror Three is the last to hold out for a guilty verdict. For a few moments after it becomes apparent that he stands alone, he sticks to his guns, saying there will be a hung jury, but he finally gives in to the pressure and votes not guilty. In the film, he pulls out his wallet to produce some facts of the case - perhaps notes he has made - and a photograph of himself with his son falls out. He stares at it for a few moments and then tears it up and begins to sob. He recognizes that his desire to convict and punish the defendant is bound up with his feelings of anger and betrayal in regard to his own son.

Juror Four

Juror Four is described in the author's notes as seeming to be "a man of wealth and position, and a practiced speaker who presents himself well at all times." In the 1957 film, he is a stockbroker, a well-dressed man in an expensive suit who, unlike the others, does not remove his jacket and shows no signs of distress in the heat. He is an arch rationalist who insists that the jury should avoid emotional arguments in deciding the case. He has a good grasp of the facts and an excellent memory, and he presents the case for guilt as well as it can be done. He is extremely skeptical of the defendant's story that he was at the movies on the night of the murder. However, his pride in his memory is shaken when, under questioning from Juror Eight, he discovers that he cannot accurately recall the title of one of the movies he saw only a few days ago, nor can he remember the names of the actors. (This incident is not in the play, but it appears in the film.) However, he still believes strongly in the defendant's guilt and is the last juror but one to change his vote. This occurs when it is demonstrated that the piece of evidence on which he places greatest value - the woman's eyewitness testimony that she saw the murder take place - is undermined. He then admits that he has a reasonable doubt.

Juror Five

Juror Five is described in the author's notes as "a naive, very frightened young man who takes his obligations in this case very seriously but who finds it difficult to speak up when his elders have the floor." When, at the beginning, jurors are asked to speak in turn, Juror Five declines the opportunity. Later, he protests when Jurors Four and Ten speak disparagingly of kids from slum backgrounds, saying that he has lived in a slum all his life. Juror Five's main contribution is in pointing out that an experienced knife fighter would use a switchblade underhand, stabbing upward rather than down. He knows this because he has witnessed such fights. Juror Five is the second juror to switch his vote to not guilty. He acquires a reasonable doubt when it is shown that, because of the noise from the train, the old man could not have heard the boy yell that he would kill his father.

Juror Six

Juror Six is a housepainter, a man who is used to working with his hands rather than analyzing with his brain. He is more of a listener than a talker. In the film version, he suggests early in the debate that the defendant had a motive to kill his father, because there was testimony in the trial about an argument between father and son earlier in the evening. But Juror Eight dismisses this as a possible motive. Juror Six stands up for Juror Nine when Juror Three speaks rudely to him, threatening to strike Juror Three if he says anything like that again. Juror Six also speaks up for himself when he changes his vote, succinctly explaining why he did so. In the film version, he talks to Juror Eight in the washroom, asking him how he would feel if he succeeded in getting the defendant acquitted but later found out that he was guilty.

Juror Seven

Juror Seven is a salesman. He assumes that the defendant is guilty and has no interest in discussing it. His only concern is that the deliberations should be over quickly, so that he does not miss the Broad-way show he has tickets for. (In the film version, he has tickets for a baseball game.) At no time does he make any serious contribution to the debate, other than to point out that the defendant has a record of arrests. In the film, he is a baseball fan and uses baseball allusions in almost everything he says. At one point, he gets into an argument with Juror Eleven about why Juror Eleven changed his vote, and he makes some prejudiced remarks about immigrants. He favors declaring a hung jury, because that will mean he will get out of the jury room quickly. Eventually, he changes his vote to not guilty, for the same reason. In the film version, Juror Eleven harshly rebukes him for caring only about ending the proceedings as quickly as possible, rather than whether the man is guilty or not.

Juror Eight

Juror Eight is a quiet, thoughtful man whose main concern is that justice should be done. In the film, he is an architect. Although he is usually gentle in his manner, he is also prepared to be assertive in the search for truth. He is the only juror who, in the initial ballot, votes not guilty. He does not argue that the man is innocent but says that he cannot condemn a man to death without discussing the case first. As he probes the evidence, he manages to cast reasonable doubt on many aspects of the testimony given at the trial. He is resolute in suggesting that although, on its face, the evidence may suggest guilt, it is possible that there are other explanations for what happened that night. Juror Eight is a natural leader, and one by one he persuades the other jurors to accept his arguments. A telling moment comes when he produces a knife from his pocket that is exactly the same as the murder weapon; when he says that he bought it cheaply in the neighborhood, he disproves the jury's belief up to that point that the knife is a very unusual one.

Juror Eight remains calm throughout the deliberations. The only times (in the film version) that he becomes heated is when he stops the game of tic-tac-toe that Jurors Ten and Twelve have started and when he calls Juror Three a sadist. The latter incident serves his purpose, however, because it goads Juror Three into saying that he will kill Juror Eight, thus proving Juror Eight's earlier point that when such expression are used, they are not always meant literally.

Juror Nine

Juror Nine is an old man. In the author's notes, he is described as "long since defeated by life, and now merely waiting to die." In the film version, however, he is given more strength and dignity, and other jurors insist that he be heard. It is Juror Nine (in both play and film) who is the first to switch his vote to not guilty, saying that he wants a fuller discussion of the case, as Juror Eight has requested. It is Juror Nine who offers an explanation of why the old man might have lied about hearing the boy yell that he was going to kill his father. Juror Nine's explanation is that, because the old man has led an insignificant life and no one has ever taken any notice of him, this is his one chance for recognition. Juror Nine is also extremely observant, and the film version amplifies his role in the final discussion, when he is the one to point out that the female witness at the trial, in an effort to look younger, omitted to wear the glasses that she habitually wore, as shown by the marks on either side of her nose. This is the key point that results in the discrediting of the woman's testimony.

Juror Ten

Juror Ten is described in the author's notes as "an angry, bitter man - a man who antagonizes almost at sight. He is also a bigot." He is automatically prejudiced against anyone who comes from a slum. He believes strongly that the defendant is guilty, argues the case forcefully, and is one of the last three to hold out for a guilty verdict. But he loses credibility with the other jurors when he makes a long speech near the end of the play that reveals his bigotry in full. He insists that people from slums are drunks and liars who fight all the time. The other jurors repudiate him, and Juror Four tells him not to say another word; he does not, other than to finally admit that there is a reasonable doubt in the case.

Juror Eleven

Juror Eleven is an immigrant from Europe, a refugee from persecution. He is possibly Jewish, although this is not stated explicitly. In the film, he is a watchmaker. Juror Eleven feels fortunate to be living in a country known for its democracy, and he has great respect for the American judicial system. He takes his responsibility as a juror very seriously. He is one of three jurors who change their minds, to make the vote split six to six. He further expresses reasonable doubt about the old man's ability to recognize the son in a dimly lit tenement building. In the author's notes, he is described as "ashamed, humble, almost subservient to the people around him," but in the film his character is strengthened. He rebukes Juror Seven for not taking the trial more seriously, and he is prepared to stand up for what he believes. Also in the film version, he questions whether the son would have returned to his father's house at three o'clock in the morning if he had been the murderer.

Juror Twelve

Juror Twelve works for an advertising agency. He is clever, but as the author's notes point out, he "thinks of human beings in terms of percentages, graphs and polls, and has no real understanding of people." When Juror Three presses him, near the end of the play, to explain his not-guilty vote, he finds it very hard to do so, since he does not, in fact, have strong opinions one way or the other. He is reduced to mumbling about the complexity of the evidence.