AS YOU LIKE IT
A monologue from the play by William Shakespeare revised for this century:
Just because I’m asking about him doesn’t mean I love him.
He thinks he talks a good game but that doesn’t mean anything to me
He’s handsome, but not breathtakingly so, and he likes himself too much.
Although he has good reason to be proud.
He will improve with age, and his looks negate his arrogance a bit.
He’s tall but not too tall, and his legs are, well, nice, I guess.
His lips are a little darker than his pink cheeks and highlight his fair skin.
Most women would fall in love at first sight, but not me.
I don’t like him or hate him, even though I have good reason to hate him.
He had no right to scold me or scorn me, saying my hair was black and my eyes.
I should have retorted back just as nastily. I’m surprised I didn’t.
Just because I forgot to stand up for myself doesn’t mean I don’t have rights.
I will write it in a letter and have you deliver it, will you?
