Far from the Madding Crowd Monologues

In Victorian England, the independent and headstrong Bathsheba Everdene attracts three very different suitors: Gabriel Oak, a sheep farmer; Frank Troy, a reckless Sergeant; and William Boldwood, a prosperous and mature bachelor.

It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in a language chiefly made by men to express theirs.

Mr Oak, I don't want a husband. I'd hate to be some man's property. I shouldn't mind being a bride at a wedding if I could be one without getting a husband!

From now on, you have a mistress, not a master. I don't yet know my talents in farming, but I shall do my best. Don't suppose, because I'm a woman, I don't know the difference between bad goings-on and good. I shall be up before you're awake. I shall be a-field before you are up. It is my intention to astonish you all. Back to work, please.

"Bathsheba Everdene." "Bathsheba." The name has always sounded strange to me. I don't like to hear it said out loud. My parents died when I was very young, so there's no one to ask where it came from. I've grown accustomed to being on my own. Some say even too accustomed. Too independent.

People always say that. Women don't jilt men. Men jilt us.