-
Waiting for Godot
tragicomedy
in 2 acts
By
Samuel Beckett
Estragon
Vladimir
Lucky
Pozzo
a boy
ACT I
A
country road. A tree.
Evening.
Estragon, sitting
on a low mound, is trying to take off
his boot. He pulls
at it with both
hands,
panting. He gives up, exhausted,
rests, tries again.
As before.
Enter Vladimir.
ESTRAGON:
(giving up again). Nothing to be done.
VLADIMIR:
(advancing with short, stiff strides,
legs wide apart). I'm beginning to come round to
that
opinion. All my life I've tried to
put it from me, saying Vladimir, be reasonable,
you haven't
yet tried everything. And I
resumed the struggle. (He broods, musing on the
struggle.
Turning to Estragon.) So
there you are again.
ESTRAGON:
Am I?
VLADIMIR:
I'm glad to see you back. I thought you
were gone forever.
ESTRAGON:
Me too.
VLADIMIR:
Together again at last! We'll have to
celebrate this. But how? (He reflects.) Get up
till I
embrace you.
ESTRAGON:
(irritably). Not now, not now.
VLADIMIR:
(hurt, coldly). May one inquire where
His Highness spent the night?
ESTRAGON:
In a
ditch.
VLADIMIR:
(admiringly). A ditch! Where?
ESTRAGON:
(without gesture). Over there.
VLADIMIR:
And
they didn't beat you?
ESTRAGON:
Beat me? Certainly they
beat me.
VLADIMIR:
The same lot as usual?
ESTRAGON:
The
same? I don't know.
VLADIMIR:
When I think of it . . .
all these years . . . but for me . . . where
would you be . . . (Decisively.)
You'd be nothing more than a little
heap of bones at the present minute, no doubt
about it.
ESTRAGON:
And what of it?
VLADIMIR:
(gloomily). It's too much for one man.
(Pause. Cheerfully.) On the other hand what's the
good
of losing heart now,
that's
what I say. We should have
thought of it a million years ago,
in
the nineties.
ESTRAGON:
Ah stop blathering and help me off with
this bloody thing.
VLADIMIR:
Hand in hand from the top
of the Eiffel Tower, among the first. We
were respectable in those
days. Now it's too late. They wouldn't
even let us up. (Estragon tears at his boot.) What
are
you doing?
ESTRAGON:
Taking off my boot. Did
that never happen to you?
VLADIMIR:
Boots must be taken off
every day, I'm tired telling you that. Why don't
you listen to me?
ESTRAGON:
(feebly). Help me!
VLADIMIR:
It hurts?
ESTRAGON:
(angrily). Hurts! He wants
to know if it hurts!
VLADIMIR:
(angrily). No one ever
suffers but you. I don't count. I'd like to hear
what you'd say if you had
what I have.
ESTRAGON:
It hurts?
VLADIMIR:
(angrily). Hurts! He wants to know if
it hurts!
ESTRAGON:
(pointing). You might button it all the
same.
VLADIMIR:
(stooping). True. (He buttons his fly.)
Never neglect the little things of life.
ESTRAGON:
What do you expect, you always wait
till the last moment.
VLADIMIR:
(musingly). The last moment . . . (He
meditates.) Hope deferred maketh the
something sick,
who said
that?
ESTRAGON:
Why don't you help me?
VLADIMIR:
Sometimes I feel it coming all the
same. Then I go all queer. (He takes off his hat,
peers
inside it, feels
about
inside it, shakes it, puts it
on
again.) How shall I say? Relieved
and at the
same time . . .
(he searches for the word) . . . appalled. (With
emphasis.) AP
-PALLED. (He
takes off his
hat again,
peers inside it.) Funny. (He knocks
on
the crown
as
though to
dislodge
a foreign body, peers into it
again, puts it on again.) Nothing to be done.
(Estragon with a
suprem
e
effort succeeds in pulling off his boot. He peers
inside it, feels about inside it, turns
it upside down, shakes it, looks on the
ground to see if anything has fallen out, finds
nothing,
feels inside it again, staring
sightlessly before him.) Well?
ESTRAGON:
Nothing.
VLADIMIR:
Show me.
ESTRAGON:
There's nothing to show.
VLADIMIR:
Try
and put it on again.
ESTRAGON:
(examining his foot). I'll
air it for a bit.
VLADIMIR:
There's man all over for
you, blaming on his boots the faults of his feet.
(He takes off his hat
again, peers
inside it, feels
about inside it,
knocks on the crown, blows into it, puts it
on
again.)
This is getting
alarming.
(Silence. Vladimir deep in thought, Estragon
pulling
at his toes.) One
of the thieves was saved. (Pause.) It's
a reasonable percentage. (Pause.) Gogo.
ESTRAGON:
What?
VLADIMIR:
Suppose we repented.
ESTRAGON:
Repented what?
VLADIMIR:
Oh . . . (He reflects.) We
wouldn't have to go into the details.
ESTRAGON:
Our
being born?
Vladimir breaks into a
hearty laugh which he immediately stifles, his
hand pressed to his
pubis, his face
contorted.
VLADIMIR:
One daren't even laugh any more.
ESTRAGON:
Dreadful privation.
VLADIMIR:
Merely
smile. (He smiles suddenly from ear to ear, keeps
smiling, ceases as suddenly.) It's
not
the same thing. Nothing to be done. (Pause.) Gogo.
ESTRAGON:
(irritably). What is it?
VLADIMIR:
Did
you ever read the Bible?
ESTRAGON:
The Bible . . . (He
reflects.) I must have taken a look at it.
VLADIMIR:
Do you
remember the Gospels?
ESTRAGON:
I remember the maps of the
Holy Land. Coloured they were. Very pretty. The
Dead Sea was
pale blue. The very look
of it made me thirsty. That's where we'll go, I
used to say, that's
where we'll go for
our honeymoon. We'll swim. We'll be happy.
VLADIMIR:
You should have been a poet.
ESTRAGON:
I was. (Gesture towards his rags.)
Isn't that obvious?
Silence.
VLADIMIR:
Where was I . . . How's
your foot?
ESTRAGON:
Swelling visibly.
VLADIMIR:
Ah
yes, the two thieves. Do you remember the story?
ESTRAGON:
No.
VLADIMIR:
Shall I tell it to you?
ESTRAGON:
No.
VLADIMIR:
It'll pass the time. (Pause.) Two
thieves, crucified at the same time as our
Saviour. One?
ESTRAGON:
Our what?
VLADIMIR:
Our
Saviour. Two thieves. One is supposed to have been
saved and the other . . . (he
searches
for the contrary of saved) . . . damned.
ESTRAGON:
Saved from what?
VLADIMIR:
Hell.
ESTRAGON:
I'm
going.
He does not move.
VLADIMIR:
And
yet . . . (pause) . . . how is it
杢
his is not boring you I
hope?how is it that of the four
Evangelists only one speaks of a thief
being saved. The four of them were there
杘
r
thereabouts?and only one speaks of a
thief being saved. (Pause.) Come on, Gogo, return
the
ball, can't you, once in a while?
ESTRAGON:
(with
exaggerated enthusiasm). I find this really most
extraordinarily interesting.
VLADIMIR:
One
out of four. Of the other three, two don't mention
any thieves at all and the third says
that both of them abused him.
ESTRAGON:
Who?
VLADIMIR:
What?
ESTRAGON:
What's all this about? Abused who?
VLADIMIR:
The
Saviour.
ESTRAGON:
Why?
VLADIMIR:
Because he wouldn't save
them.
ESTRAGON:
From hell?
VLADIMIR:
Imbecile! From death.
ESTRAGON:
I
thought you said hell.
VLADIMIR:
From
death, from death.
ESTRAGON:
Well what of it?
VLADIMIR:
Then
the two of them must have been damned.
ESTRAGON:
And
why not?
VLADIMIR:
But one of the four says that one of
the two was saved.
ESTRAGON:
Well?
They don't agree and that's all there is to it.
VLADIMIR:
But all four were there. And only one
speaks of a thief being saved. Why believe him
rather
than the others?
ESTRAGON:
Who
believes him?
VLADIMIR:
Everybody. It's the only version they
know.
ESTRAGON:
People are bloody ignorant apes.
He rises painfully, goes
limping to extrem
e left, halts, gazes
into distance off with his hand
screening his eyes, turns, goes to
extreme right, gazes into distance. Vladimir
watches him,
then goes and picks up the
boot, peers into it, drops it hastily.
VLADIMIR:
Pah!
He spits. Estragon moves to center,
halts with his back to auditorium.
ESTRAGON:
Charming spot. (He turns, advances to
front, halts facing auditorium.) Inspiring
prospects.
(He turns to Vladimir.)
Let's go.
VLADIMIR:
We can't.
ESTRAGON:
Why
not?
VLADIMIR:
We're waiting for Godot.
ESTRAGON:
(despairingly). Ah! (Pause.) You're
sure it was here?
VLADIMIR:
What?
ESTRAGON:
That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR:
He
said by the tree. (They look at the tree.) Do you
see any others
?
ESTRAGON:
What is it?
VLADIMIR:
I
don't know. A willow.
ESTRAGON:
Where
are the leaves?
VLADIMIR:
It must be dead.
ESTRAGON:
No more weeping.
VLADIMIR:
Or
perhaps it's not the season.
ESTRAGON:
Looks
to me more like a bush.
VLADIMIR:
A shrub.
ESTRAGON:
A
bush.
VLADIMIR:
A? What are you insinuating? That we've
com
e to the wrong place?
ESTRAGON:
He
should be here.
VLADIMIR:
He didn't say for sure he'd
com
e.
ESTRAGON:
And if he doesn't come?
VLADIMIR:
We'll
come back tomorrow.
ESTRAGON:
And
then the day after tomorrow.
VLADIMIR:
Possibly.
ESTRAGON:
And so
on.
VLADIMIR:
The point is?
ESTRAGON:
Until he comes.
VLADIMIR:
You're
merciless.
ESTRAGON:
We came here yesterday.
VLADIMIR:
Ah no, there you're mistaken.
ESTRAGON:
What did we do yesterday?
VLADIMIR:
What
did we do yesterday?
ESTRAGON:
Yes.
VLADIMIR:
Why . . . (Angrily.)
Nothing is certain when you're about.
ESTRAGON:
In my
opinion we were here.
VLADIMIR:
(looking round). You
recognize the place?
ESTRAGON:
I didn't say that.
VLADIMIR:
Well?
ESTRAGON:
That makes no difference.
VLADIMIR:
All
the same . . . that tree . . . (turning towards
auditorium) that bog . . .
ESTRAGON:
You're
sure it was this evening?
VLADIMIR:
What?
ESTRAGON:
That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR:
He
said Saturday. (Pause.) I think.
ESTRAGON:
You
think.
VLADIMIR:
I must have made a note of it. (He
fumbles in his pockets, bursting with
miscellaneous
rubbish.)
ESTRAGON:
(very
insidious). But what Saturday? And is it Saturday?
Is it not rather Sunday? (Pause.) Or
Monday? (Pause.) Or Friday?
VLADIMIR:
(looking wildly about him, as though
the date was inscribed in the landscape). It's not
possible!
ESTRAGON:
Or Thursday?
VLADIMIR:
What'll we do?
ESTRAGON:
If he came yesterday and we
weren't here you may be sure he won't
com
e again today.
VLADIMIR:
But
you say we were here yesterday.
ESTRAGON:
I may
be mistaken. (Pause.) Let's stop talking for a
minute, do you mind?
VLADIMIR:
(feebly). All right. (Estragon sits
down on the mound. Vladimir paces agitatedly to
and fro,
halting from time to time to
gaze into distance off. Estragon falls asleep.
Vladimir halts finally
before
Estragon.) Gogo! . . . Gogo! . . . GOGO!
Estragon wakes with a
start.
ESTRAGON:
(restored to the horror of
his situation). I was asleep! (Despairingly.) Why
will you never let
me sleep?
VLADIMIR:
I felt
lonely.
ESTRAGON:
I had a dream.
VLADIMIR:
Don't
tell me!
ESTRAGON:
I dreamt that?
VLADIMIR:
DON'T
TELL ME!
ESTRAGON:
(gesture toward the
universe). This one is
enough for you? (Silence.) It's not
nice of you, Didi.
Who am I to tell my
private nightmares to if I can't tell them to you?
VLADIMIR:
Let them remain private. You know I
can't bear that.
ESTRAGON:
(coldly.) There are times when I wonder
if it wouldn't be better for us to part.
VLADIMIR:
You wouldn't go far.
ESTRAGON:
That
would be too bad, really too bad.
(
Pause.) Wouldn't it, Didi, be really
too bad? (Pause.)
When you think
of the beauty of the
way.
(Pause.) And the goodness
of the
wayfarers. (Pause.
Wheedling.) Wouldn't it, Didi?
VLADIMIR:
Calm yourself.
ESTRAGON:
(voluptuously.) Calm . . . calm . . .
The English say cawm. (Pause.) You know the story
of the
Englishman in the brothel?
VLADIMIR:
Yes.
ESTRAGON:
Tell
it to me.
VLADIMIR:
Ah stop it!
ESTRAGON:
An
Englishman having drunk a little more than usual
proceeds to a brothel. The bawd asks
him if he wants a fair one, a dark one
or a red-haired one. Go on.
VLADIMIR:
STOP IT!
Exit Vladimir hurriedly. Estragon gets
up and follows him as far as the limit of the
stage.
Gestures of Estragon like those
of a spectator encouraging a pugilist. Enter
Vladimir. He
brushes past Estragon,
crosses the stage with bowed head. Estragon takes
a step towards
him, halts.
ESTRAGON:
(gently.) You wanted to speak to me?
(Silence. Estragon takes a step forward.) You had
som
ething to say to me?
(Silence. Another step forward.) Didi . . .
VLADIMIR:
(without turning). I've nothing to say
to you.
ESTRAGON:
(step forward). You're angry? (Silence.
Step forward). Forgive me. (Silence. Step forward.
Estragon lays his hand on Vladimir's
shoulder.) Come, Didi. (Silence.) Give me your
hand.
(Vladimir half turns.) Embrace
m
e! (Vladimir stiffens.) Don't be
stubborn! (Vladimir softens.
They
embrace.
Estragon recoils.) You stink
of garlic!
VLADIMIR:
It's for the kidneys.
(Silence. Estragon looks attentively at the tree.)
What do we do now?
ESTRAGON:
Wait.
VLADIMIR:
Yes,
but while waiting.
ESTRAGON:
What
about hanging ourselves?
VLADIMIR:
Hmm. It'd give us an
erection.
ESTRAGON:
(highly excited). An erection!
VLADIMIR:
With
all that follows. Where it falls mandrakes grow.
That's why they shriek when you pull
them up. Did you not know that?
ESTRAGON:
Let's
hang ourselves immediately!
VLADIMIR:
From a
bough? (They go towards the tree.) I wouldn't
trust it.
ESTRAGON:
We can always try.
VLADIMIR:
Go ahead.
ESTRAGON:
After
you.
VLADIMIR:
No no, you first.
ESTRAGON:
Why me?
VLADIMIR:
You're
lighter than I am.
ESTRAGON:
Just
so!
VLADIMIR:
I
don't understand.
ESTRAGON:
Use your intelligence,
can't you?
Vladimir uses his
intelligence.
VLADIMIR:
(finally). I remain in the dark.
ESTRAGON:
This
is how it is. (He reflects.) The bough . . . the
bough . . . (Angrily.
) Use your head,
can't
you?
VLADIMIR:
You're my only hope.
ESTRAGON:
(with
effort). Gogo light
梑
ough not
break
桮
ogo dead. Didi
heavy
梑
ough
break
桪
idi alone.
Whereas?
VLADIMIR:
I hadn't thought of that.
ESTRAGON:
If it
hangs you it'll hang anything.
VLADIMIR:
But am
I heavier than you?
ESTRAGON:
So you tell me. I don't
know. There's an even chance. Or nearly.
VLADIMIR:
Well? What do we do?
ESTRAGON:
Don't
let's do anything. It's safer.
VLADIMIR:
Let's
wait and see what he says.
ESTRAGON:
Who?
VLADIMIR:
Godot.
ESTRAGON:
Good
idea.
VLADIMIR:
Let's wait till we know exactly how we
stand.
ESTRAGON:
On the other hand it might be better to
strike the iron before it freezes.
VLADIMIR:
I'm
curious to hear what he has to offer. Then we'll
take it or leave it.
ESTRAGON:
What
exactly did we ask him for?
VLADIMIR:
Were you not there?
ESTRAGON:
I
can't have been listening.
VLADIMIR:
Oh . . . Nothing very
definite.
ESTRAGON:
A kind of prayer.
VLADIMIR:
Precisely.
ESTRAGON:
A
vague supplication.
VLADIMIR:
Exactly.
ESTRAGON:
And
what did he reply?
VLADIMIR:
That he'd see.
ESTRAGON:
That
he couldn't promise anything.
VLADIMIR:
That
he'd have to think it over.
ESTRAGON:
In the quiet of his home.
VLADIMIR:
Consult his family.
ESTRAGON:
His
friends.
VLADIMIR:
His agents.
ESTRAGON:
His
correspondents.
VLADIMIR:
His books.
ESTRAGON:
His
bank account.
VLADIMIR:
Before taking a decision.
ESTRAGON:
It's
the normal thing.
VLADIMIR:
Is it not?
ESTRAGON:
I
think it is.
VLADIMIR:
I think so too.
Silence.
ESTRAGON:
(anxious). And we?
VLADIMIR:
I beg
your pardon?
ESTRAGON:
I said, And we?
VLADIMIR:
I don't understand.
ESTRAGON:
Where
do we come in?
VLADIMIR:
Com
e in?
ESTRAGON:
Take
your time.
VLADIMIR:
Com
e in? On our
hands and knees.
ESTRAGON:
As bad as that?
VLADIMIR:
Your Worship wishes to
assert his prerogatives?
ESTRAGON:
We've no rights any more?
Laugh of Vladimir, stifled as before,
less the smile.
VLADIMIR:
You'd make me laugh if it
wasn't prohibited.
ESTRAGON:
We've lost our rights?
VLADIMIR:
(distinctly). We got rid of them.
Silence. They remain
motionless, arms dangling, heads sunk, sagging at
the knees.
ESTRAGON:
(feebly). We're not tied?
(Pause.) We're not?
VLADIMIR:
Listen!
They
listen, grotesquely rigid.
ESTRAGON:
I hear nothing.
VLADIMIR:
Hsst!
(They listen. Estragon loses his balance, almost
falls. He clutches the arm of Vladimir,
who totters. They listen, huddled
together.) Nor I.
Sighs of
relief. They relax and separate.
ESTRAGON:
You
gave me a fright.
VLADIMIR:
I thought it was he.
ESTRAGON:
Who?
VLADIMIR:
Godot.
ESTRAGON:
Pah!
The wind in the reeds.
VLADIMIR:
I could have sworn I heard
shouts.
ESTRAGON:
And why would he shout?
VLADIMIR:
At his
horse.
Silence.
ESTRAGON:
(violently). I'm hungry!
VLADIMIR:
Do you
want a carrot?
ESTRAGON:
Is that all there is?
VLADIMIR:
I
might have some turnips.
ESTRAGON:
Give
me a carrot. (Vladimir rummages in his pockets,
takes out a turnip and gives it to
Estragon who takes a bite out of it.
Angrily.) It's a turnip!
VLADIMIR:
Oh
pardon! I could have sworn it was a carrot. (He
rummages again in his pockets, finds
nothing but turnips.) All that's
turnips. (He rummages.) You must have eaten the
last. (He
rummages.) Wait, I have it.
(He brings out a carrot and gives it to Estragon.)
There, dear
fellow. (Estragon wipes the
carrot on his sleeve and begins to eat it.) Make
it last, that's the
end of them.
ESTRAGON:
(chewing). I asked you a question.
VLADIMIR:
Ah.
ESTRAGON:
Did you reply?
VLADIMIR:
How's
the carrot?
ESTRAGON:
It's a carrot.
VLADIMIR:
So much the better, so much
the better. (Pause.) What was it you wanted to
know?
ESTRAGON:
I've forgotten. (Chews.) That's what
annoys me. (He looks at the carrot appreciatively,
dangles it between finger and thumb.)
I'll never forget this carrot. (He sucks the end
of it
meditatively.) Ah yes, now I
remember.
VLADIMIR:
Well?
ESTRAGON:
(his mouth full,
vacuously). We're not tied?
VLADIMIR:
I don't hear a word you're
saying.
ESTRAGON:
(chews, swallows). I'm
asking you if we're tied.
VLADIMIR:
Tied?
ESTRAGON:
Ti-ed.
VLADIMIR:
How do
you mean tied?
ESTRAGON:
Down.
VLADIMIR:
But to whom? By whom?
ESTRAGON:
To
your man.
VLADIMIR:
To Godot? Tied to Godot! What an idea!
No question of it. (Pause.) For the moment.
ESTRAGON:
His nam
e is Godot?
VLADIMIR:
I
think so.
ESTRAGON:
Fancy that. (He raises
what remains of the carrot
by the
stub of leaf, twirls
it before his eyes.)
Funny, the more
you eat the worse it gets.
VLADIMIR:
With
me it's just the opposite.
ESTRAGON:
In other words?
VLADIMIR:
I get
used to the muck as I go along.
ESTRAGON:
(after
prolonged reflection). Is that the opposite?
VLADIMIR:
Question of temperament.
ESTRAGON:
Of
character.
VLADIMIR:
Nothing you can do about
it.
ESTRAGON:
No use struggling.
VLADIMIR:
One is
what one is.
ESTRAGON:
No use wriggling.
VLADIMIR:
The essential doesn't
change.
ESTRAGON:
Nothing to be done. (He proffers the
remains of the carrot to Vladimir.) Like to finish
it?
A terrible cry, close at hand.
Estragon drops the carrot. They remain motionless,
then
together make
a sudden
rush towards the
wings. Estragon stops
halfway, runs back, picks up
the
carrot, stuffs it in his pocket, runs to rejoin
Vladimir who is waiting for him, stops again,
runs back, picks up his boot, runs to
rejoin Vladimir. Huddled together, shoulders
hunched,
cringing away from the menace,
they wait.
Enter Pozzo
and
Lucky. Pozzo
drives Lucky by means of a
rope passed round his neck, so that
Lucky is the first to enter, followed
by the rope which is long enough to let him reach
the
middle of the
stage
before Pozzo appears. Lucky carries a heavy bag, a
folding stool, a picnic
basket and a
greatcoat, Pozzo a whip.
POZZO:
(off). On! (Crack of
whip. Pozzo appears. They cross the stage. Lucky
passes before Vladimir
and Estragon and
exit. Pozzo at the sight of Vladimir and Estragon
stops short. The rope
tautens. Pozzo
jerks at it violently.) Back!
Noise of Lucky falling with all his
baggage. Vladimir and Estragon turn towards him,
half
wishing half fearing to go to his
assistance. Vlamdimir takes a step towards Lucky,
Estragon
holds him back by the sleeve.
VLADIMIR:
Let me
go!
ESTRAGON:
Stay where you are!
POZZO:
Be careful! He's wicked. (Vladimir and
Estragon turn towards Pozzo.) With strangers.
ESTRAGON:
(undertone). Is that him?
VLADIMIR:
Who?
ESTRAGON:
(trying to rem
ember the
nam
e). Er . . .
VLADIMIR:
Godot?
ESTRAGON:
Yes.
POZZO:
I present myself:
Pozzo.
VLADIMIR:
(to Estragon). Not at all!
ESTRAGON:
He
said Godot.
VLADIMIR:
Not at all!
ESTRAGON:
(timidly, to Pozzo). You're
not Mr. Godot, Sir?
POZZO:
(terrifying voice). I am Pozzo!
(Silence.) Pozzo! (Silence.) Does that name mean
nothing to
you? (Silence.) I say does
that name mean nothing to you?
Vladimir and Estragon look at each
other questioningly.
ESTRAGON:
(pretending to search). Bozzo . . .
Bozzo . . .
VLADIMIR:
(ditto). Pozzo . . . Pozzo
. . .
POZZO:
PPPOZZZO!
ESTRAGON:
Ah! Pozzo . . . let me see
. . . Pozzo . . .
VLADIMIR:
Is it Pozzo or Bozzo?
ESTRAGON:
Pozzo
. . . no . . . I'm afraid I . . . no . . . I don't
seem to . . .
Pozzo
advances threateningly.
VLADIMIR:
(conciliating). I once knew a family
called Gozzo. The mother had the clap.
ESTRAGON:
(hastily). We're not from these parts,
Sir.
POZZO:
(halting). You
are
human beings none
the less.
(He puts
on
his glasses.) As
far as
one can see.
(He
takes off his
glasses.) Of the same
species as myself. (He bursts into
an
enormous
laugh.)
Of the same species
as Pozzo! Made in God's image!
VLADIMIR:
Well
you see?
POZZO:
(peremptory). Who is Godot?
ESTRAGON:
Godot?
POZZO:
You took me for
Godot.
VLADIMIR:
Oh no, Sir, not for an instant, Sir.
POZZO:
Who is
he?
VLADIMIR:
Oh he's a . . . he's a kind of
acquaintance.
ESTRAGON:
Nothing of the kind, we hardly know
him.
VLADIMIR:
True . . . we don't know him very well
. . . but all the same . . .
ESTRAGON:
Personally, I wouldn't even know him if
I saw him.
POZZO:
You took me for him.
ESTRAGON:
(recoiling before Pozzo). That's to say
. . . you understand . . . the dusk . . . the
strain . . .
waiting . . . I confess .
. . I imagined . . . for a second . . .
POZZO:
Waiting?
So you were waiting for him?
VLADIMIR:
Well you see?
POZZO:
Here? On my land?
VLADIMIR:
We
didn't intend any harm.
ESTRAGON:
We
meant well.
POZZO:
The road is free to all.
VLADIMIR:
That's
how we looked at it.
POZZO:
It's a disgrace. But there you are.
ESTRAGON:
Nothing we can do about it.
POZZO:
(with magnanimous
gesture). Let's say no more
about it.
(He jerks the rope.) Up pig! (Pause.)
Every time he drops he falls
asleep. (Jerks the rope.) Up hog!
(Noise of Lucky getting up and
picking
up his baggage. Pozzo jerks the rope.) Back!
(Enter Lucky backwards.) Stop! (Lucky
stops.) Turn! (Lucky turns. To Vladimir
and Estragon, affably.) Gentlemen, I am happy to
have met you. (Before their incredulous
expression.) Yes yes, sincerely happy. (He jerks
the
rope.) Closer! (Lucky advances.)
Stop! (Lucky stops.) Yes, the road seems long when
one
journeys all
alone for .
. . (he consults
his
watch)
. . . yes . . . (he calculates) . . . yes, six
hours,
that's right, six hours on end,
and never a soul in sight. (To Lucky.) Coat!
(Lucky puts down
the bag, advances,
gives the coat, goes back to his place, takes up
the bag.) Hold that!
(Pozzo holds out
the whip. Lucky advances and, both his hands being
occupied, takes the
whip in his mouth,
then goes back to his place. Pozzo begins to put
on his coat, stops.) Coat!
(Lucky puts
down the bag, basket and stool, helps Pozzo on
with his coat, goes back to his
place
and takes up bag, basket and stool.) Touch of
autumn in the air this evening. (Pozzo
finishes buttoning up his coat, stoops,
inspects himself, straightens up.) Whip! (Lucky
advances, stoops, Pozzo snatches the
whip from his mouth, Lucky goes back to his
place.)
Yes, gentlemen, I cannot go for
long without the society of my likes (he puts on
his glasses
and looks at the two likes)
even when the likeness is an imperfect one. (He
takes off his
glasses.) Stool! (Lucky
puts down bag and basket, advances, opens stool,
puts it down, goes
back to his place,
takes up bag and basket.) Closer! (Lucky puts down
bag and basket,
advances, moves stool,
goes back to his place, takes up bag and basket.
Pozzo sits down,
places
the
butt
of his
whip
against Lucky's chest and
pushes.) Back! (Lucky takes a
step back.)
Further! (Lucky
takes another step back.) Stop! (Lucky stops. To
Vladimir and Estragon.)
That is
why,
with your permission, I
propose to dally with you
a moment,
before I venture
any
further. Basket! (Lucky advances, gives
the basket, goes back to his place.) The fresh air
stimulates the jaded
appetite. (He opens the basket, takes
out
a piece
of
chicken
and
a bottle
of wine.) Basket! (Lucky advances,
picks up the basket and goes back to his place.)
Further!
(Lucky takes a step back.) He
stinks. Happy days!
He drinks from the
bottle, puts it down and begins to eat. Silence.
Vladimir and Estragon, cautiously at
first, then more boldly, begin to circle about
Lucky,
inspecting him up and down.
Pozzo eats his chicken voraciously, throwing away
the bones
after having sucked them.
Lucky sags slowly, until bag and basket touch the
ground, then
straightens up with a
start and begins to sag again. Rhythm of one
sleeping on his feet.
ESTRAGON:
What
ails him?
VLADIMIR:
He looks tired.
ESTRAGON:
Why doesn't he put down his
bags?
VLADIMIR:
How do I know? (They close in on him.)
Careful!
ESTRAGON:
Say something to him.
VLADIMIR:
Look!
ESTRAGON:
What?
VLADIMIR:
(pointing). His neck!
ESTRAGON:
(looking at the neck). I see nothing.
VLADIMIR:
Here.
Estragon goes over beside
Vladimir.
ESTRAGON:
Oh I say!
VLADIMIR:
A
running sore!
ESTRAGON:
It's the rope.
VLADIMIR:
It's
the rubbing.
ESTRAGON:
It's inevitable.
VLADIMIR:
It's
the knot.
ESTRAGON:
It's the chafing.
They
resum
e their inspection, dwell on the
face.
VLADIMIR:
(grudgingly). He's not bad looking.
ESTRAGON:
(shrugging his shoulders, wry face.)
Would you say so?
VLADIMIR:
A trifle effeminate.
ESTRAGON:
Look
at the slobber.
VLADIMIR:
It's inevitable.
ESTRAGON:
Look
at the slaver.
VLADIMIR:
Perhaps he's a halfwit.
ESTRAGON:
A cretin.
VLADIMIR:
(looking closer). Looks like a goiter.
ESTRAGON:
(ditto). It's not certain.
VLADIMIR:
He's
panting.
ESTRAGON:
It's inevitable.
VLADIMIR:
And
his eyes!
ESTRAGON:
What about them?
VLADIMIR:
Goggling out of his head.
ESTRAGON:
Looks
like his last gasp to me.
VLADIMIR:
It's not certain. (Pause.)
Ask him a question.
ESTRAGON:
Would that be a good thing?
VLADIMIR:
What
do we risk?
ESTRAGON:
(timidly). Mister . . .
VLADIMIR:
Louder.
ESTRAGON:
(louder). Mister . . .
POZZO:
Leave him in peace!
(They turn toward Pozzo who, having finished
eating, wipes his mouth
with the back
of his hand.) Can't you see he wants to rest?
Basket! (He strikes a match and
begins
to light his pipe. Estragon sees the chicken bones
on the ground and stares at them
greedily. As Lucky does not move Pozzo
throws the match angrily away and jerks the rope.)
Basket! (Lucky starts, almost falls,
recovers his senses, advances, puts the bottle in
the
basket and
goes back to
his place. Estragon stares at the bones. Pozzo
strikes another match
and
lights his pipe.) What can you expect, it's not
his job. (He pulls at his pipe, stretches out
his legs.) Ah! That's better.
ESTRAGON:
(timidly). Please Sir . . .
POZZO:
What is it, my good
man?
ESTRAGON:
Er . . . you've finished with the . . .
er . . . you don't need the . . . er . . . bones,
Sir?
VLADIMIR:
(scandalized). You couldn't have
waited?
POZZO:
No no, he
does
well to
ask. Do I
need the bones? (He turns
them over
with the
end
of his
whip.)
No,
personally I do not need them any more. (Estragon
takes a step towards the bones.)
But .
. . (Estragon stops short) . . . but in theory the
bones go to the carrier. He is therefore
the one to ask. (Estragon turns towards
Lucky, hesitates.) Go on, go on, don't be afraid,
ask
him, he'll tell you.
Estragon goes towards Lucky, stops
before him.
ESTRAGON:
Mister . . . excuse me,
Mister . . .
POZZO:
You're being spoken to, pig! Reply! (To
Estragon.) Try him again.
ESTRAGON:
Excuse
me, Mister, the bones, you won't be wanting the
bones?
Lucky looks long at
Estragon.
POZZO:
(in
raptures). Mister! (Lucky bows his head.) Reply!
Do you
want them or don't you? (Silence
of Lucky. To Estragon.) They're yours.
(Estragon makes a dart at the bones, picks them up
and begins to gnaw them.) I don't like
it. I've never known him to refuse a bone before.
(He
looks anxiously at Lucky.) Nice
business it'd be if he fell sick on me!
He puffs at his pipe.
VLADIMIR:
(exploding). It's a scandal!
Silence. Flabbergasted, Estragon stops
gnawing, looks at Pozzo and Vladimir in turn.
Pozzo
outwardly calm. Vladimir
embarrassed.
POZZO:
(To
Vladimir). Are you alluding to anything in
particular?
VLADIMIR:
(stutteringly resolute). To
treat a man . . . (gesture towards Lucky) . . .
like that . . . I think
that . . . no .
. . a human being . . . no . . . it's a scandal!
ESTRAGON:
(not to be outdone). A disgrace!
He resum
es his gnawing.
POZZO:
You are severe. (To
Vladimir.) What age are you, if it's not a rude
question? (Silence.) Sixty?
Seventy?
(To Estragon.) What age would you say he was?
ESTRAGON:
Eleven.
POZZO:
I am impertinent. (He knocks out his
pipe against the whip, gets up.) I must be getting
on.
Thank you for your society. (He
reflects.) Unless I smoke another pipe before I
go. What do
you say? (They say
nothing.) Oh I'm only a small smoker, a very small
smoker, I'm not in the
habit of
smoking
two pipes
one
on top
of the
other, it makes (hand
to
heart,
sighing) my heart
go pit-a-pat. (Silence.) It's the
nicotine, one
absorbs it in spite of
one's precautions. (Sighs.)
You know
how it is. (Silence.) But perhaps you don't smoke?
Yes? No? It's of no importance.
(Silence.) But how am I to sit down
now,
without
affectation,
now that I have risen? Without
appearing to
杊
ow
shall I say?without appearing to falter. (To
Vladimir.) I beg your pardon?
(Silence.) Perhaps you didn't speak?
(Silence.) It's of no importance. Let me see . . .
He reflects.
ESTRAGON:
Ah!
That's better.
He puts the bones in
his pocket.
VLADIMIR:
Let's go.
ESTRAGON:
So soon?
POZZO:
One moment! (He jerks the rope.) Stool!
(He points with his whip. Lucky moves the stool.)
More! There! (He sits down. Lucky goes
back to his place.) Done it!
He fills his pipe.
VLADIMIR:
(vehemently). Let's go!
POZZO:
I hope I'm not
driving you away. Wait a little longer, you'll
never regret it.
ESTRAGON:
(scenting charity). We're
in no hurry.
POZZO:
(having lit his pipe). The second is
never so sweet . . . (he takes the pipe out of his
mouth,
contemplates it) . . . as the
first I mean. (He puts the pipe back in his
mouth.) But it's sweet
just the same.
VLADIMIR:
I'm
going.
POZZO:
He can no longer endure my presence. I
am perhaps not particularly human, but who cares?
(To Vladimir.) Think twice before you
do anything rash. Suppose you go now while it is
still
day, for there is no denying it
is still day. (They all look up at the sky.) Good.
(They stop
looking at
the
sky.) What happens in that case?(he takes
the pipe
out
of
his mouth, examines
it)
朓
'm out?(he relights his
pipe)
杋
n that case?(puff)
杋
n that case?(puff)
杦
hat happens
in
that case to your appointment with this . . .
Godet . . . Godot . . . Godin . . . anyhow you
see who I mean, who has your future in
his hands . . . (pause) . . . at least your
immediate
future?
VLADIMIR:
Who told you?
POZZO:
He speaks to me
again! If this goes on much longer we'll soon be
old friends.
ESTRAGON:
Why doesn't he put down his
bags?