Beckett S. Waiting for Godot

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tragicomedy in 2 acts
Origin: http://samuel-beckett.net/Waiting_for_Godot_Part1.html
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Estragon
Vladimir
Lucky
Pozzo
a boy

ACT I

Act 2

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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 supreme 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 -this 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 -or 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 extreme 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 come to the wrong place?
ESTRAGON:
He should be here.
VLADIMIR:
He didn't say for sure he'd come.
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 come
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 something 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 me!
(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--bough not break--Gogo dead. Didi
heavy--bough break--Didi 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:
Come in?
ESTRAGON:
Take your time.
VLADIMIR:
Come 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 name 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 remember the name). 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 resume 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 resumes 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
-how 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) -I'm out- (he relights his pipe) -in that case- (puff) -in that
case- (puff) -what 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?
POZZO:
I too would be happy to meet him. The more people I meet the happier I
become. From the meanest creature one departs wiser, richer, more conscious
of one's blessings. Even you . . . (he looks at them ostentatiously in turn
to make it clear they are both meant) . . . even you, who knows, will have
added to my store.
ESTRAGON:
Why doesn't he put down his bags?
POZZO:
But that would surprise me.
VLADIMIR:
You're being asked a question.
POZZO:
(delighted). A question! Who? What? A moment ago you were calling me
Sir, in fear and trembling. Now you're asking me questions. No good will
come of this!
VLADIMIR:
(to Estragon). I think he's listening.
ESTRAGON:
(circling about Lucky). What?
VLADIMIR:
You can ask him now. He's on the alert.
ESTRAGON:
Ask him what?
VLADIMIR:
Why he doesn't put down his bags.
ESTRAGON:
I wonder.
VLADIMIR:
Ask him, can't you?
POZZO:
(who has followed these exchanges with anxious attention, fearing lest
the question get lost). You want to know why he doesn't put down his bags,
as you call them.
VLADIMIR:
That's it.
POZZO:
(to Estragon). You are sure you agree with that?
ESTRAGON:
He's puffing like a grampus.
POZZO:
The answer is this. (To Estragon). But stay still, I beg of you, you're
making me nervous!
VLADIMIR:
Here.
ESTRAGON:
What is it?
VLADIMIR:
He's about to speak.
Estragon goes over beside Vladimir. Motionless, side by side, they
wait.
POZZO:
Good. Is everybody ready? Is everybody looking at me? (He looks at
Lucky, jerks the rope. Lucky raises his head.) Will you look at me, pig!
(Lucky looks at him.) Good. (He puts the pipe in his pocket, takes out a
little vaporizer and sprays his throat, puts back the vaporizer in his
pocket, clears his throat, spits, takes out the vaporizer again, sprays his
throat again, puts back the vaporizer in his pocket.) I am ready. Is
everybody listening? Is everybody ready? (He looks at them all in turn,
jerks the rope.) Hog! (Lucky raises his head.) I don't like talking in a
vacuum. Good. Let me see.
He reflects.
ESTRAGON:
I'm going.
POZZO:
What was it exactly you wanted to know?
VLADIMIR:
Why he--
POZZO:
(angrily). Don't interrupt me! (Pause. Calmer.) If we all speak at once
we'll never get anywhere. (Pause.) What was I saying? (Pause. Louder.) What
was I saying?
Vladimir mimics one carrying a heavy burden. Pozzo looks at him,
puzzled.
ESTRAGON:
(forcibly). Bags. (He points at Lucky.) Why? Always hold. (He sags,
panting.) Never put down. (He opens his hands, straightens up with relief.)
Why?
POZZO:
Ah! Why couldn't you say so before? Why he doesn't make himself
comfortable? Let's try and get this clear. Has he not the right to?
Certainly he has. It follows that he doesn't want to. There's reasoning for
you. And why doesn't he want to? (Pause.) Gentlemen, the reason is this.
VLADIMIR:
(to Estragon). Make a note of this.
POZZO:
He wants to impress me, so that I'll keep him.
ESTRAGON:
What?
POZZO:
Perhaps I haven't got it quite right. He wants to mollify me, so that
I'll give up the idea of parting with him. No, that's not exactly it either.
VLADIMIR:
You want to get rid of him?
POZZO:
He wants to con me, but he won't.
VLADIMIR:
You want to get rid of him?
POZZO:
He imagines that when I see how well he carries I'll be tempted to keep
him on in that capacity.
ESTRAGON:
You've had enough of him?
POZZO:
In reality he carries like a pig. It's not his job.
VLADIMIR:
You want to get rid of him?
POZZO:
He imagines that when I see him indefatigable I'll regret my decision.
Such is his miserable scheme. As though I were short of slaves! (All three
look at Lucky.) Atlas, son of Jupiter! (Silence.) Well, that's that, I
think. Anything else?
Vaporizer.
VLADIMIR:
You want to get rid of him?