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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?
     POZZO:
     Remark that I might just as well have been in his shoes and he in mine.
If chance had not willed otherwise. To each one his due.
     VLADIMIR:
     You waagerrim?
     POZZO:
     I beg your pardon?
     VLADIMIR:
     You want to get rid of him?
     POZZO:
     I  do.  But  instead of driving him  away as  I might have done, I mean
instead of simply kicking him out on his arse, in the goodness of my heart I
am bringing him to the fair, where I hope to get a good price  for  him. The
truth is you can't drive  such creatures away. The best thing  would  be  to
kill them.
     Lucky weeps.
     ESTRAGON:
     He's crying!
     POZZO:
     Old dogs have more dignity. (He proffers his handkerchief to Estragon.)
Comfort him, since  you pity him. (Estragon  hesitates.)  Come on. (Estragon
takes the handkerchief.) Wipe away his tears, he'll feel less forsaken.
     Estragon hesitates.
     VLADIMIR:
     Here, give it to me, I'll do it.
     Estragon refuses to give the handkerchief.
     Childish gestures.
     POZZO:
     Make haste, before  he  stops.  (Estragon approaches Lucky and makes to
wipe  his eyes.  Lucky kicks him violently  in the shins. Estragon drops the
handkerchief, recoils, staggers about the stage howling with pain.) Hanky!
     Lucky  puts down  bag and basket, picks up handkerchief and gives it to
Pozzo, goes back to his place, picks up bag and basket.
     ESTRAGON:
     Oh the swine! (He pulls up the leg of his trousers.) He's crippled me!
     POZZO:
     I told you he didn't like strangers.
     VLADIMIR:
     (to Estragon).  Show me. (Estragon shows  his leg. To Pozzo,  angrily.)
He's bleeding!
     POZZO:
     It's a good sign.
     ESTRAGON:
     (on one leg). I'll never walk again!
     VLADIMIR:
     (tenderly). I'll carry you. (Pause.) If necessary.
     POZZO:
     He's stopped crying. (To Estragon.)  You have  replaced him as it were.
(Lyrically.) The  tears  of the world are  a constant quantity. For each one
who begins to weep, somewhere else  another stops. The  same is true of  the
laugh.  (He  laughs.) Let us not then speak ill of our generation, it is not
any  unhappier than its  predecessors. (Pause.) Let us not speak  well of it
either. (Pause.) Let  us not speak of it at all. (Pause. Judiciously.) It is
true the population has increased.
     VLADIMIR:
     Try and walk.
     Estragon  takes a  few limping steps, stops  before Lucky and spits  on
him, then goes and sits down on the mound.
     POZZO:
     Guess  who taught me  all these beautiful things. (Pause.  Pointing  to
Lucky.) My Lucky!
     VLADIMIR:
     (looking at the sky.) Will night never come?
     POZZO:
     But for him all my thoughts, all my feelings, would have been of common
things.  (Pause.   With  extraordinary  vehemence.)   Professional  worries!
(Calmer.)  Beauty,  grace,  truth of the first water,  I knew they  were all
beyond me. So I took a knook.
     VLADIMIR:
     (startled from his inspection of the sky). A knook?
     POZZO:
     That was nearly sixty years ago  .  . . (he  consults  his watch) . . .
yes,  nearly sixty. (Drawing himself  up  proudly.) You wouldn't think it to
look at me, would you? Compared to him I look like a young man, no? (Pause.)
Hat! (Lucky puts down the  basket and takes off his hat. His long white hair
falls  about his face.  He  puts  his hat  under his arm  and  picks up  the
basket.) Now look. (Pozzo takes off his  hat. [All four wear bowlers.] He is
completely bald. He puts on his hat again.) Did you see?
     VLADIMIR:
     And now you turn him away? Such an old and faithful servant!
     ESTRAGON:
     Swine!
     Pozzo more and more agitated.
     VLADIMIR:
     After having sucked all the good out of him you chuck him away like a .
. . like a banana skin. Really . . .
     POZZO:
     (groaning, clutching his head). I can't bear it . . . any longer  . . .
the way he goes on . . . you've no idea . . . it's terrible . . . he must go
. . .  (he waves his arms) . . . I'm going mad . . . (he collapses, his head
in his hands) . . . I can't bear it . . . any longer . . .
     Silence. All look at Pozzo.
     VLADIMIR:
     He can't bear it.
     ESTRAGON:
     Any longer.
     VLADIMIR:
     He's going mad.
     ESTRAGON:
     It's terrible.
     VLADIMIR:
     (to  Lucky). How dare you! It's abominable! Such a good master! Crucify
him like that! After so many years! Really!
     POZZO:
     (sobbing). He  used to  be  so  kind  . .  .  so  helpful  .  .  .  and
entertaining . . . my good angel . . . and now . . . he's killing me.
     ESTRAGON:
     ( to Vladimir). Does he want to replace him?
     VLADIMIR:
     What?
     ESTRAGON:
     Does he want someone to take his place or not?
     VLADIMIR:
     I don't think so.
     ESTRAGON:
     What?
     VLADIMIR:
     I don't know.
     ESTRAGON:
     Ask him.
     POZZO:
     (calmer). Gentlemen, I don't know what came over me. Forgive me. Forget
all I said. (More and  more his old self.) I don't remember  exactly what it
was,  but  you  may be  sure there  wasn't  a word of truth  in it. (Drawing
himself up,  striking  his chest.) Do I look like a  man that can be made to
suffer? Frankly? (He rummages  in  his pockets.)  What  have I done with  my
pipe?
     VLADIMIR:
     Charming evening we're having.
     ESTRAGON:
     Unforgettable.
     VLADIMIR:
     And it's not over.
     ESTRAGON:
     Apparently not.
     VLADIMIR:
     It's only beginning.
     ESTRAGON:
     It's awful.
     VLADIMIR:
     Worse than the pantomime.
     ESTRAGON:
     The circus.
     VLADIMIR:
     The music-hall.
     ESTRAGON:
     The circus.
     POZZO:
     What can I have done with that briar?
     ESTRAGON:
     He's a scream. He's lost his dudeen.
     Laughs noisily.
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll be back.
     He hastens towards the wings.
     ESTRAGON:
     End of the corridor, on the left.
     VLADIMIR:
     Keep my seat.
     Exit Vladimir.
     POZZO:
     (on the point of tears). I've lost my Kapp and Peterson!
     ESTRAGON:
     (convulsed with merriment). He'll be the death of me!
     POZZO:
     You didn't  see by  any chance-  (He  misses  Vladimir.) Oh! He's gone!
Without saying goodbye! How could he! He might have waited!
     ESTRAGON:
     He would have burst.
     POZZO:
     Oh! (Pause.) Oh well then of course in that case . . .
     ESTRAGON:
     Come here.
     POZZO:
     What for?
     ESTRAGON:
     You'll see.
     POZZO:
     You want me to get up?
     ESTRAGON:
     Quick! (Pozzo  gets  up and goes over beside  Estragon. Estragon points
off.) Look!
     POZZO:
     (having put on his glasses). Oh I say!
     ESTRAGON:
     It's all over.
     Enter Vladimir, somber. He shoulders Lucky out of  his  way, kicks over
the stool, comes and goes agitatedly.
     POZZO:
     He's not pleased.
     ESTRAGON:
     (to Vladimir). You missed a treat. Pity.
     Vladimir halts, straightens the stool, comes and goes, calmer.
     POZZO:
     He  subsides.  (Looking  round.)  Indeed  all  subsides. A  great  calm
descends. (Raising his hand.) Listen! Pan sleeps.
     VLADIMIR:
     Will night never come?
     All three look at the sky.
     POZZO:
     You don't feel like going until it does?
     ESTRAGON:
     Well you see--
     POZZO:
     Why it's very natural, very natural. I  myself in your situation,  if I
had an appointment with a Godin .  . . Godet . .  . Godot . .  . anyhow, you
see who I mean, I'd wait till it was black night before I gave up. (He looks
at the stool.) I'd very much like to sit down, but I don't quite know how to
go about it.
     ESTRAGON:
     Could I be of any help?
     POZZO:
     If you asked me perhaps.
     ESTRAGON:
     What?
     POZZO:
     If you asked me to sit down.
     ESTRAGON:
     Would that be a help?
     POZZO:
     I fancy so.
     ESTRAGON:
     Here we go. Be seated, Sir, I beg of you.
     POZZO:
     No no, I wouldn't think of it! (Pause. Aside.) Ask me again.
     ESTRAGON:
     Come come, take a seat I beseech you, you'll get pneumonia.
     POZZO:
     You really think so?
     ESTRAGON:
     Why it's absolutely certain.
     POZZO:
     No doubt you are  right. (He sits down.) Done it again!  (Pause.) Thank
you,  dear  fellow. (He  consults  his watch.) But I must really  be getting
along, if I am to observe my schedule.
     VLADIMIR:
     Time has stopped.
     POZZO:
     (cuddling his watch to his ear).  Don't  you believe it, Sir, don't you
believe  it.  (He puts his watch back in his pocket.) Whatever you like, but
not that.
     ESTRAGON:
     (to Pozzo). Everything seems black to him today.
     POZZO:
     Except the firmament. (He laughs, pleased with  this witticism.)  But I
see  what it is,  you  are not from these parts,  you  don't  know what  our
twilights can do. Shall I tell you? (Silence. Estragon is fiddling  with his
boot  again,  Vladimir with  his hat.) I can't  refuse you.  (Vaporizer.)  A
little  attention,  if  you  please. (Vladimir  and  Estragon continue their
fiddling,  Lucky is  half asleep. Pozzo cracks his whip feebly.)  What's the
matter with  this whip?  (He  gets up and cracks it more vigorously, finally
with  success.  Lucky jumps.  Vladimir's  hat, Estragon's boot, Lucky's hat,
fall to  the ground. Pozzo throws down the whip.)  Worn out, this  whip. (He
looks at Vladimir and Estragon.) What was I saying?
     VLADIMIR:
     Let's go.
     ESTRAGON:
     But  take the weight  off your feet, I  implore you,  you'll catch your
death.
     POZZO:
     True. (He sits down. To Estragon.) What is your name?
     ESTRAGON:
     Adam.
     POZZO:
     (who  hasn't listened). Ah yes! The night. (He raises his head.) But be
a  little  more  attentive, for  pity's  sake,  otherwise  we'll  never  get
anywhere. (He looks at the sky.) Look! (All look at the sky except Lucky who
is dozing off again. Pozzo jerks the rope.)  Will you look  at the sky, pig!
(Lucky looks at  the sky.) Good,  that's enough.  (They stop looking  at the
sky.) What  is there  so extraordinary  about it? Qua  sky. It is  pale  and
luminous like any sky at  this hour of the day. (Pause.) In these latitudes.
(Pause.) When the weather is fine. (Lyrical.)  An hour ago (he looks at  his
watch,  prosaic) roughly (lyrical) after having poured forth even  since (he
hesitates,  prosaic) say  ten o'clock  in  the morning (lyrical)  tirelessly
torrents of red and  white light it begins to lose  its effulgence, to  grow
pale (gesture of the two hands lapsing by stages) pale, ever a little paler,
a little paler until  (dramatic pause, ample gesture of the two hands  flung
wide  apart)  pppfff!  finished!  it  comes to  rest. But- (hand  raised  in
admonition)- but behind this veil of gentleness and peace, night is charging
(vibrantly) and will burst upon us (snaps his fingers) pop!  like that! (his
inspiration leaves him) just when  we least expect it. (Silence.  Gloomily.)
That's how it is on this bitch of an earth.
     Long silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     So long as one knows.
     VLADIMIR:
     One can bide one's time.
     ESTRAGON:
     One knows what to expect.
     VLADIMIR:
     No further need to worry.
     ESTRAGON:
     Simply wait.
     VLADIMIR:
     We're used to it.
     He picks up his hat, peers inside it, shakes it, puts it on.
     POZZO:
     How did you find me? (Vladimir and Estragon look at him blankly.) Good?
Fair? Middling? Poor? Positively bad?
     VLADIMIR:
     (first to understand). Oh very good, very very good.
     POZZO:
     (to Estragon). And you, Sir?
     ESTRAGON:
     Oh tray bong, tray tray tray bong.
     POZZO:
     (fervently). Bless you, gentlemen, bless you! (Pause.) I have such need
of  encouragement! (Pause.) I weakened a little towards the end, you  didn't
notice?
     VLADIMIR:
     Oh perhaps just a teeny weeny little bit.
     ESTRAGON:
     I thought it was intentional.
     POZZO:
     You see my memory is defective.
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     In the meantime, nothing happens.
     POZZO:
     You find it tedious?
     ESTRAGON:
     Somewhat.
     POZZO:
     (to Vladimir). And you, Sir?
     VLADIMIR:
     I've been better entertained.
     Silence. Pozzo struggles inwardly.
     POZZO:
     Gentlemen, you have been . . . civil to me.
     ESTRAGON:
     Not at all!
     VLADIMIR:
     What an idea!
     POZZO:
     Yes yes, you have been correct. So that I ask myself  is there anything
I can do in  my turn for these  honest fellows  who are having  such a dull,
dull time.
     ESTRAGON:
     Even ten francs would be a help.
     VLADIMIR:
     We are not beggars!
     POZZO:
     Is there anything I can do, that's what I ask myself, to cheer them up?
I have given  them bones, I have talked to them about this  and that, I have
explained the twilight, admittedly.  But is it enough,  that's what tortures
me, is it enough?
     ESTRAGON:
     Even five.
     VLADIMIR:
     (to Estragon, indignantly). That's enough!
     ESTRAGON:
     I couldn't accept less.
     POZZO:
     Is is enough? No doubt. But I am liberal. It's my nature. This evening.
So much the  worse for  me. (He  jerks the rope. Lucky looks  at him.) For I
shall  suffer,  no  doubt about that. (He picks  up  the whip.) What do  you
prefer? Shall we have him dance, or sing, or recite, or think, or--
     ESTRAGON:
     Who?
     POZZO:
     Who! You know how to think, you two?
     VLADIMIR:
     He thinks?
     POZZO:
     Certainly.  Aloud. He  even used  to think very prettily once, I  could
listen to him for hours. Now . . . (he shudders). So much the worse for  me.
Well, would you like him to think something for us?
     ESTRAGON:
     I'd rather he dance, it'd be more fun.
     POZZO:
     Not necessarily.
     ESTRAGON:
     Wouldn't it, Didi, be more fun?
     VLADIMIR:
     I'd like well to hear him think.
     ESTRAGON:
     Perhaps he could dance first and think afterwards, if it isn't too much
to ask him.
     VLADIMIR:
     (to Pozzo). Would that be possible?
     POZZO:
     By all means, nothing simpler. It's the natural order.
     He laughs briefly.
     VLADIMIR:
     Then let him dance.
     Silence.
     POZZO:
     Do you hear, hog?
     ESTRAGON:
     He never refuses?
     POZZO:
     He refused once. (Silence.) Dance, misery!
     Lucky puts down bag and basket, advances towards front, turns to Pozzo.
Lucky dances. He stops.
     ESTRAGON:
     Is that all?
     POZZO:
     Encore!
     Lucky executes the same movements, stops.
     ESTRAGON:
     Pooh! I'd do as well myself. (He imitates  Lucky, almost falls.) With a
little practice.
     POZZO:
     He used to  dance the  farandole, the fling,  the  brawl, the  jig, the
fandango and  even the hornpipe. He capered. For joy. Now that's the best he
can do. Do you know what he calls it?
     ESTRAGON:
     The Scapegoat's Agony.
     VLADIMIR:
     The Hard Stool.
     POZZO:
     The Net. He thinks he's entangled in a net.
     VLADIMIR:
     (squirming like an aesthete). There's something about it . . .
     Lucky makes to return to his burdens.
     POZZO:
     Woaa!
     Lucky stiffens.
     ESTRAGON:
     Tell us about the time he refused.
     POZZO:
     With  pleasure, with pleasure. (He  fumbles in his pockets.)  Wait. (He
fumbles.) What have I done with my spray? (He  fumbles.) Well now isn't that
. . . (He looks up, consternation on his features. Faintly.) I can't find my
pulverizer!
     ESTRAGON:
     (faintly). My left lung is  very  weak!  (He  coughs feebly. In ringing
tones.) But my right lung is as sound as a bell!
     POZZO:
     (normal voice).  No  matter!  What  was  I saying.  (He ponders.) Wait.
(Ponders.) Well now isn't that . . . (He raises his head.) Help me!
     ESTRAGON:
     Wait!
     VLADIMIR:
     Wait!
     POZZO:
     Wait!
     All  three  take  off their hats simultaneously, press  their hands  to
their foreheads, concentrate.
     ESTRAGON:
     (triumphantly). Ah!
     VLADIMIR:
     He has it.
     POZZO:
     (impatient). Well?
     ESTRAGON:
     Why doesn't he put down his bags?
     VLADIMIR:
     Rubbish!
     POZZO:
     Are you sure?
     VLADIMIR:
     Damn it haven't you already told us?
     POZZO:
     I've already told you?
     ESTRAGON:
     He's already told us?
     VLADIMIR:
     Anyway he has put them down.
     ESTRAGON:
     (glance at Lucky). So he has. And what of it?
     VLADIMIR:
     Since he  has put down his  bags it is impossible we  should have asked
why he does not do so.
     POZZO:
     Stoutly reasoned!
     ESTRAGON:
     And why has he put them down?
     POZZO:
     Answer us that.
     VLADIMIR:
     In order to dance.
     ESTRAGON:
     True!
     POZZO:
     True!
     Silence. They put on their hats.
     ESTRAGON:
     Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes, it's awful!
     VLADIMIR:
     (to Pozzo). Tell him to think.
     POZZO:
     Give him his hat.
     VLADIMIR:
     His hat?
     POZZO:
     He can't think without his hat.
     VLADIMIR:
     (to Estragon). Give him his hat.
     ESTRAGON:
     Me! After what he did to me! Never!
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll give it to him.
     He does not move.
     ESTRAGON:
     (to Pozzo). Tell him to go and fetch it.
     POZZO:
     It's better to give it to him.
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll give it to him.
     He picks up the hat and tenders it at arm's length  to Lucky,  who does
not move.
     POZZO:
     You must put it on his head.
     ESTRAGON:
     (to Pozzo). Tell him to take it.
     POZZO:
     It's better to put it on his head.
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll put it on his head.
     He goes round behind Lucky, approaches  him cautiously, puts the hat on
his head and recoils smartly. Lucky does not move. Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     What's he waiting for?
     POZZO:
     Stand  back! (Vladimir and Estragon move  away  from Lucky. Pozzo jerks
the rope. Lucky looks at Pozzo.) Think, pig! (Pause. Lucky begins to dance.)
Stop! (Lucky stops.) Forward! (Lucky advances.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Think!
     Silence.
     LUCKY:
     On the other hand with regard to--
     POZZO:
     Stop! (Lucky stops.)  Back! (Lucky  moves back.)  Stop!  (Lucky stops.)
Turn! (Lucky turns towards auditorium.) Think!
     During Lucky's tirade the others react as follows.
     1) Vladimir and Estragon all attention, Pozzo dejected and disgusted.
     2) Vladimir and Estragon begin to protest, Pozzo's sufferings increase.
     3) Vladimir and Estragon attentive again, Pozzo more  and more agitated
and groaning.
     4)  Vladimir and Estragon protest violently. Pozzo jumps up,  pulls  on
the  rope. General outcry. Lucky  pulls  on the rope,  staggers, shouts  his
text. All three throw themselves on Lucky who struggles and shouts his text.
     LUCKY:
     Given the existence as uttered forth in the public works of Puncher and
Wattmann of  a  personal  God  quaquaquaqua  with white  beard  quaquaquaqua
outside time without extension who from the heights of divine apathia divine
athambia  divine aphasia loves us dearly  with  some  exceptions for reasons
unknown but  time  will tell and suffers like  the divine Miranda with those
who for reasons unknown but time will tell are plunged in torment plunged in
fire whose fire flames if that continues and who can doubt it will fire  the
firmament that is to say blast hell to heaven so blue still and calm so calm
with a calm which even though intermittent is better than nothing but not so
fast and  considering  what  is  more that  as  a result  of the labors left
unfinished   crowned   by   the   Acacacacademy   of  Anthropopopometry   of
Essy-in-Possy of Testew and  Cunard it  is established beyond all  doubt all
other doubt than that which clings to the labors of men  that as a result of
the labors unfinished of Testew and Cunnard it is established as hereinafter
but not so fast for  reasons unknown that as a result of the public works of
Puncher and Wattmann it is  established beyond all doubt that in view of the
labors of Fartov and Belcher left unfinished for  reasons unknown  of Testew
and  Cunard  left unfinished  it is established what many  deny that  man in
Possy of Testew and Cunard that man  in Essy  that man in short that man  in
brief in  spite  of the strides  of  alimentation and defecation wastes  and
pines  wastes  and pines  and concurrently simultaneously what is  more  for
reasons unknown in  spite of the strides of physical culture the practice of
sports  such as tennis  football  running cycling swimming  flying  floating
riding gliding conating camogie skating  tennis  of  all kinds  dying flying
sports of all  sorts autumn summer  winter winter tennis of all kinds hockey
of all  sorts penicillin and  succedanea in a  word  I resume flying gliding
golf over nine and eighteen holes tennis of all sorts in a  word for reasons
unknown in Feckham Peckham Fulham Clapham namely concurrently simultaneously
what is more for reasons  unknown but  time will  tell fades away  I  resume
Fulham Clapham in a  word  the dead loss per head  since the death of Bishop
Berkeley being to the tune of one inch  four ounce per head approximately by
and  large more or less to the nearest decimal  good measure  round  figures
stark naked  in the  stockinged feet  in Connemara  in  a  word for  reasons
unknown no matter what matter the  facts are there  and considering what  is
more much  more grave that in the light  of  the labors lost of Steinweg and
Peterman it appears what is more much more grave that in the light the light
the light of the labors  lost of Steinweg and Peterman that in the plains in
the mountains  by the  seas by the rivers running water running fire the air
is the  same and then  the earth namely the air  and then  the earth  in the
great cold the great dark the air and the earth abode of stones in the great
cold alas alas in the year of their Lord six hundred and  something  the air
the earth  the sea  the  earth abode of stones in the great deeps  the great
cold on sea on land and  in the air I resume for reasons unknown in spite of
the  tennis the facts are there but time will tell I resume alas alas  on on
in short in fine on on abode of stones who can doubt it I resume but  not so
fast I resume the skull fading fading fading and concurrently simultaneously
what is more for reasons  unknown in spite of the tennis on on the beard the
flames the tears the stones so  blue so  calm  alas alas on on the skull the
skull  the skull the skull in Connemara  in spite of  the tennis  the labors
abandoned  left unfinished  graver still abode of stones  in a word I resume
alas alas abandoned  unfinished the skull the skull in Connemara in spite of
the tennis the skull alas the stones Cunard (mle, final vociferations)
     #
     

     .  .  .  tennis  .  . . the stones . . . so  calm  . . . Cunard  .  . .
unfinished . . .
     POZZO:
     His hat!
     Vladimir  seizes Lucky's  hat. Silence of  Lucky.  He  falls.  Silence.
Panting of the victors.
     ESTRAGON:
     Avenged!
     Vladimir examines the hat, peers inside it.
     POZZO:
     Give  me that! (He  snatches  the hat from  Vladimir, throws it on  the
ground, tramples on it.) There's an end to his thinking!
     VLADIMIR:
     But will he be able to walk?
     POZZO:
     Walk or crawl! (He kicks Lucky.) Up pig!
     ESTRAGON:
     Perhaps he's dead.
     VLADIMIR:
     You'll kill him.
     POZZO:
     Up scum! (He jerks the rope.) Help me!
     VLADIMIR:
     How?
     POZZO:
     Raise him up!
     Vladimir and Estragon hoist Lucky to his feet, support him  an instant,
then let him go. He falls.
     ESTRAGON:
     He's doing it on purpose!
     POZZO:
     You must hold him. (Pause.) Come on, come on, raise him up.
     ESTRAGON:
     To hell with him!
     VLADIMIR:
     Come on, once more.
     ESTRAGON:
     What does he take us for?
     They raise Lucky, hold him up.
     POZZO:
     Don't  let him go! (Vladimir  and Estragon totter.) Don't  move! (Pozzo
fetches  bag and basket and brings them towards Lucky.)  Hold him tight! (He
puts the bag in Lucky's hand. Lucky drops it immediately.) Don't let him go!
(He  puts back the bag in  Lucky's hand. Gradually, at the feel  of the bag,
Lucky recovers his  senses and his fingers finally close  round the handle.)
Hold him tight! (As before with basket.) #
     

     Now!  You can  let him  go. (Vladimir and Estragon move away from Lucky
who totters, reels,  sags, but succeeds  in remaining on his feet,  bag  and
basket  in  his hands.  Pozzo steps back, cracks his whip.)  Forward! (Lucky
totters forward.) Back!  (Lucky totters back.) Turn! (Lucky turns.) Done it!
He can  walk. (Turning to Vladimir and  Estragon.) Thank you, gentlemen, and
let me  .  .  . (he fumbles in  his  pockets) . .  .  let me wish you .  . .
(fumbles) . .  . wish  you  . . . (fumbles) . .  . what have I done with  my
watch?  (Fumbles.)  A   genuine   half-hunter,   gentlemen,  with   deadbeat
escapement! (Sobbing.) Twas my  granpa gave it  to me! (He  searches on  the
ground, Vladimir and Estragon likewise. Pozzo turns over  with his  foot the
remains of Lucky's hat.) Well now isn't that just--
     VLADIMIR:
     Perhaps it's in your fob.
     POZZO:
     Wait!  (He doubles up in  an attempt to apply  his ear  to his stomach,
listens.  Silence.)  I hear nothing. (He beckons them to  approach, Vladimir
and Estragon go over to him, bend over his stomach.) Surely one should  hear
the tick-tick.
     VLADIMIR:
     Silence!
     All listen, bent double. #
     

     ESTRAGON:
     I hear something.
     POZZO:
     Where?
     VLADIMIR:
     It's the heart.
     POZZO:
     (disappointed). Damnation!
     VLADIMIR:
     Silence!
     ESTRAGON:
     Perhaps it has stopped.
     They straighten up.
     POZZO:
     Which of you smells so bad?
     ESTRAGON:
     He has stinking breath and I have stinking feet.
     POZZO:
     I must go.
     ESTRAGON:
     And your half-hunter?
     POZZO:
     I must have left it at the manor.
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then adieu.
     POZZO:
     Adieu.
     VLADIMIR:
     Adieu.
     POZZO:
     Adieu.
     Silence. No one moves.
     VLADIMIR:
     Adieu.
     POZZO:
     Adieu.
     ESTRAGON:
     Adieu.
     Silence.
     POZZO:
     And thank you.
     VLADIMIR:
     Thank you.
     POZZO:
     Not at all.
     ESTRAGON:
     Yes yes.
     POZZO:
     No no.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes yes.
     ESTRAGON:
     No no.
     Silence.
     POZZO:
     I don't seem to be able . . . (long hesitation) . . . to depart.
     ESTRAGON:
     Such is life.
     Pozzo turns, moves away from Lucky towards the  wings,  paying  out the
rope as he goes.
     VLADIMIR:
     You're going the wrong way.
     POZZO:
     I  need a running start. (Having come to the end of the rope, i.e., off
stage, he  stops, turns and cries.) Stand back! (Vladimir and Estragon stand
back, look towards Pozzo. Crack of whip.) On! On!
     ESTRAGON:
     On!
     VLADIMIR:
     On!
     Lucky moves off.
     POZZO:
     Faster! (He appears, crosses the  stage preceded by Lucky. Vladimir and
Estragon wave their hats. Exit Lucky.) On! On! (On the point of disappearing
in  his turn he stops and turns. The  rope  tautens. Noise  of Lucky falling
off.) Stool! (Vladimir fetches stool and gives it  to Pozzo who throws it to
Lucky.) Adieu!
     VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
     (waving). Adieu! Adieu!
     POZZO:
     Up!  Pig! (Noise of  Lucky getting up.)  On! (Exit Pozzo.) Faster!  On!
Adieu! Pig! Yip! Adieu!
     Long silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     That passed the time.
     ESTRAGON:
     It would have passed in any case.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes, but not so rapidly.
     Pause.
     ESTRAGON:
     What do we do now?
     VLADIMIR:
     I don't know.
     ESTRAGON:
     Let's go.
     VLADIMIR:
     We can't.
     ESTRAGON:
     Why not?
     VLADIMIR:
     We're waiting for Godot.
     ESTRAGON:
     (despairingly). Ah!
     Pause.
     VLADIMIR:
     How they've changed!
     ESTRAGON:
     Who?
     VLADIMIR:
     Those two.
     ESTRAGON:
     That's the idea, let's make a little conversation.
     VLADIMIR:
     Haven't they?
     ESTRAGON:
     What?
     VLADIMIR:
     Changed.
     ESTRAGON:
     Very likely. They all change. Only we can't.
     VLADIMIR:
     Likely! It's certain. Didn't you see them?
     ESTRAGON:
     I suppose I did. But I don't know them.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes you do know them.
     ESTRAGON:
     No I don't know them.
     VLADIMIR:
     We know  them, I tell you.  You forget everything. (Pause. To himself.)
Unless they're not the same . . .
     ESTRAGON:
     Why didn't they recognize us then?
     VLADIMIR:
     That means nothing. I  too pretended not to recognize  them.  And  then
nobody ever recognizes us.
     ESTRAGON:
     Forget it. What we need- Ow! (Vladimir does not react.) Ow!
     VLADIMIR:
     (to himself). Unless they're not the same . . .
     ESTRAGON:
     Didi! It's the other foot!
     He goes hobbling towards the mound.
     VLADIMIR:
     Unless they're not the same . . .
     BOY:
     (off). Mister!
     Estragon halts. Both look towards the voice.
     ESTRAGON:
     Off we go again.
     VLADIMIR:
     Approach, my child.
     Enter Boy, timidly. He halts.
     BOY:
     Mister Albert . . . ?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes.
     ESTRAGON:
     What do you want?
     VLADIMIR:
     Approach!
     The Boy does not move.
     ESTRAGON:
     (forcibly). Approach when you're told, can't you?
     The Boy advances timidly, halts.
     VLADIMIR:
     What is it?
     BOY:
     Mr. Godot . . .
     VLADIMIR:
     Obviously . . . (Pause.) Approach.
     ESTRAGON:
     (violently). Will you approach! (The  Boy advances  timidly.) What kept
you so late?
     VLADIMIR:
     You have a message from Mr. Godot?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Well, what is it?
     ESTRAGON:
     What kept you so late?
     The Boy looks at them in turn, not knowing to which he should reply.
     VLADIMIR:
     (to Estragon). Let him alone.
     ESTRAGON:
     (violently).  You let me alone. (Advancing,  to the  Boy.) Do  you know
what time it is?
     BOY:
     (recoiling). It's not my fault, Sir.
     ESTRAGON:
     And whose is it? Mine?
     BOY:
     I was afraid, Sir.
     ESTRAGON:
     Afraid of what? Of us? (Pause.) Answer me!
     VLADIMIR:
     I know what it is, he was afraid of the others.
     ESTRAGON:
     How long have you been here?
     BOY:
     A good while, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     You were afraid of the whip?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     The roars?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     The two big men.
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Do you know them?
     BOY:
     No Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Are  you a native of  these  parts? (Silence.) Do you  belong  to these
parts?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     ESTRAGON:
     That's all a pack of  lies. (Shaking the Boy  by the  arm.) Tell us the
truth!
     BOY:
     (trembling). But it is the truth, Sir!
     VLADIMIR:
     Will you let him alone! What's the matter with you? #
     

     (Estragon  releases  the Boy, moves away,  covering  his face with  his
hands. Vladimir and the Boy observe  him. Estragon drops his hands. His face
is convulsed.) What's the matter with you?
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm unhappy.
     VLADIMIR:
     Not really! Since when?
     ESTRAGON:
     I'd forgotten.
     VLADIMIR:
     Extraordinary the tricks that memory  plays! (Estragon tries to  speak,
renounces, limps to  his place, sits down and begins to take  off his boots.
To Boy.) Well?
     BOY:
     Mr. Godot--
     VLADIMIR:
     I've seen you before, haven't I?
     BOY:
     I don't know, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     You don't know me?
     BOY:
     No Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     It wasn't you came yesterday?
     BOY:
     No Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     This is your first time?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Words words. (Pause.) Speak.
     BOY:
     (in a  rush). Mr. Godot told  me to tell you he won't come this evening
but surely tomorrow.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Is that all?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     You work for Mr. Godot?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     What do you do?
     BOY:
     I mind the goats, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Is he good to you?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     He doesn't beat you?
     BOY:
     No Sir, not me.
     VLADIMIR:
     Whom does he beat?
     BOY:
     He beats my brother, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Ah, you have a brother?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     What does he do?
     BOY:
     He minds the sheep, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     And why doesn't he beat you?
     BOY:
     I don't know, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     He must be fond of you.
     BOY:
     I don't know, Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Does he  give you  enough to eat? (The Boy hesitates.) Does he feed you
well?
     BOY:
     Fairly well, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     You're not unhappy? (The Boy hesitates.) Do you hear me?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Well?
     BOY:
     I don't know, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     You don't know if you're unhappy or not?
     BOY:
     No Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     You're as bad as myself. (Silence.) Where do you sleep?
     BOY:
     In the loft, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     With your brother?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     In the hay?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     All right, you may go.
     BOY:
     What am I to tell Mr. Godot, Sir?
     VLADIMIR:
     Tell him  . . . (he hesitates)  . . . tell him you saw us. (Pause.) You
did see us, didn't you?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     He steps  back, hesitates, turns  and exit running. The  light suddenly
fails. In  a moment it is night. The moon rises at back, mounts in the  sky,
stands still, shedding a pale light on the scene.
     VLADIMIR:
     At last! (Estragon gets  up and goes towards  Vladimir, a  boot in each
hand. He puts  them down at edge of stage, straightens and  contemplates the
moon.) #
     

     What are you doing?
     ESTRAGON:
     Pale for weariness.
     VLADIMIR:
     Eh?
     ESTRAGON:
     Of climbing heaven and gazing on the likes of us.
     VLADIMIR:
     Your boots, what are you doing with your boots?
     ESTRAGON:
     (turning to look  at  the  boots). I'm  leaving  them  there.  (Pause.)
Another will come, just as . . . as . . . as me, but  with smaller feet, and
they'll make him happy.
     VLADIMIR:
     But you can't go barefoot!
     ESTRAGON:
     Christ did.
     VLADIMIR:
     Christ! What has Christ got to do with it.  You're not going to compare
yourself to Christ!
     ESTRAGON:
     All my life I've compared myself to him.
     VLADIMIR:
     But where he lived it was warm, it was dry!
     ESTRAGON:
     Yes. And they crucified quick.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     We've nothing more to do here.
     ESTRAGON:
     Nor anywhere else.
     VLADIMIR:
     Ah Gogo, don't go on like that. Tomorrow everything will be better.
     ESTRAGON:
     How do you make that out?
     VLADIMIR:
     Did you not hear what the child said?
     ESTRAGON:
     No.
     VLADIMIR:
     He said that Godot was sure to come  tomorrow. (Pause.) What do you say
to that?
     ESTRAGON:
     Then all we have to do is to wait on here.
     VLADIMIR:
     Are you  mad? We must  take cover. (He takes Estragon by the arm.) Come
on.
     He draws Estragon after him. Estragon yields, then resists. They halt.
     ESTRAGON:
     (looking at the tree). Pity we haven't got a bit of rope.
     VLADIMIR:
     Come on. It's cold.
     He draws Estragon after him. As before.
     ESTRAGON:
     Remind me to bring a bit of rope tomorrow.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes. Come on.
     He draws him after him. As before.
     ESTRAGON:
     How long have we been together all the time now?
     VLADIMIR:
     I don't know. Fifty years maybe.
     ESTRAGON:
     Do you remember the day I threw myself into the Rhone?
     VLADIMIR:
     We were grape harvesting.
     ESTRAGON:
     You fished me out.
     VLADIMIR:
     That's all dead and buried.
     ESTRAGON:
     My clothes dried in the sun.
     VLADIMIR:
     There's no good harking back on that. Come on.
     He draws him after him. As before.
     ESTRAGON:
     Wait!
     VLADIMIR:
     I'm cold!
     ESTRAGON:
     Wait! (He moves away from Vladimir.) I  sometimes wonder if we wouldn't
have been better off alone, each one for himself.  (He crosses the stage and
sits down on the mound.) We weren't made for the same road.
     VLADIMIR:
     (without anger). It's not certain.
     ESTRAGON:
     No, nothing is certain.
     Vladimir slowly crosses the stage and sits down beside Estragon. #
     

     VLADIMIR:
     We can still part, if you think it would be better.
     ESTRAGON:
     It's not worthwhile now.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     No, it's not worthwhile now.
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     Well, shall we go?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes, let's go.
     They do not move.
     Curtain.

     Top Act 2

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     Waiting for Godot

     ACT II
     Act 1

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     Next day. Same time.
     Same place.


     Estragon's boots front center, heels together, toes splayed. #
     

     Lucky's hat at same place.
     The tree has four or five leaves.
     Enter  Vladimir agitatedly.  He halts and  looks long at the tree, then
suddenly  begins to move  feverishly  about the stage. He  halts  before the
boots, picks one up, examines it, sniffs it, manifests disgust, puts it back
carefully. Comes  and goes. Halts extreme right and gazes into distance off,
shading  his  eyes with his hand. Comes  and goes.  Halts extreme  left,  as
before. Comes and goes. Halts suddenly and begins to sing loudly.
     VLADIMIR:
     A dog came in-
     Having begun too high he stops, clears his throat, resumes:
     A dog came in the kitchen
     And stole a crust of bread.
     Then cook up with a ladle
     And beat him till he was dead.
     Then all the dogs came running
     And dug the dog a tomb-
     He stops, broods, resumes:
     Then all the dogs came running
     And dug the dog a tomb
     And wrote upon the tombstone
     For the eyes of dogs to come:
     A dog came in the kitchen
     And stole a crust of bread.
     Then cook up with a ladle
     And beat him till he was dead.
     Then all the dogs came running
     And dug the dog a tomb-
     He stops, broods, resumes:
     Then all the dogs came running
     And dug the dog a tomb-
     He stops, broods. Softly.
     And dug the dog a tomb . . .
     He remains  a  moment  silent  and  motionless,  then  begins  to  move
feverishly about the stage. He halts before the tree, comes and goes, before
the boots, comes and goes, halts extreme right, gazes into distance, extreme
left,  gazes  into distance. Enter Estragon right, barefoot, head bowed.  He
slowly crosses the stage. Vladimir turns and sees him.
     VLADIMIR:
     You  again! (Estragon halts but  does not raise his head. Vladimir goes
towards him.) Come here till I embrace you.
     ESTRAGON:
     Don't touch me!
     Vladimir holds back, pained.
     VLADIMIR:
     Do you want me to go away? (Pause.) Gogo! (Pause. Vladimir observes him
attentively.) Did  they  beat you?  (Pause.) Gogo! (Estragon remains silent,
head bowed.) Where did you spend the night?
     ESTRAGON:
     Don't touch me! Don't question me! Don't speak to me! Stay with me!
     VLADIMIR:
     Did I ever leave you?
     ESTRAGON:
     You let me go.
     VLADIMIR:
     Look  at me. (Estragon does not  raise his  head. Violently.) Will  you
look at me!
     Estragon raises his head. They  look long at each other, then  suddenly
embrace, clapping each other on the back. End of the  embrace. Estragon,  no
longer supported, almost falls.
     ESTRAGON:
     What a day!
     VLADIMIR:
     Who beat you? Tell me.
     ESTRAGON:
     Another day done with.
     VLADIMIR:
     Not yet.
     ESTRAGON:
     For me it's over and done  with, no  matter what  happens. (Silence.) I
heard you singing.
     VLADIMIR:
     That's right, I remember.
     ESTRAGON:
     That finished me. I said  to myself, He's all alone, he thinks I'm gone
for ever, and he sings.
     VLADIMIR:
     One is  not  master of  one's moods. All day  I've  felt in great form.
(Pause.) I didn't get up in the night, not once!
     ESTRAGON:
     (sadly). You see, you piss better when I'm not there.
     VLADIMIR:
     I  missed you  .  . . and  at the same time I was  happy. Isn't that  a
strange thing?
     ESTRAGON:
     (shocked). Happy?
     VLADIMIR:
     Perhaps it's not quite the right word.
     ESTRAGON:
     And now?
     VLADIMIR:
     Now? . . . (Joyous.) There  you are again . . . (Indifferent.) There we
are again. . . (Gloomy.) There I am again.
     ESTRAGON:
     You see, you feel worse when I'm with you. I feel better alone too.
     VLADIMIR:
     (vexed). Then why do you always come crawling back?
     ESTRAGON:
     I don't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     No, but I do. It's  because  you don't know  how to defend  yourself. I
wouldn't have let them beat you.
     ESTRAGON:
     You couldn't have stopped them.
     VLADIMIR:
     Why not?
     ESTRAGON:
     There was ten of them.
     VLADIMIR:
     No,  I mean before they beat you.  I would have stopped you  from doing
whatever it was you were doing.
     ESTRAGON:
     I wasn't doing anything.
     VLADIMIR:
     Then why did they beat you?
     ESTRAGON:
     I don't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     Ah no, Gogo, the truth is there are things that  escape you that  don't
escape me, you must feel it yourself.
     ESTRAGON:
     I tell you I wasn't doing anything.
     VLADIMIR:
     Perhaps you weren't. But it's the way of doing it that counts, the  way
of doing it, if you want to go on living.
     ESTRAGON:
     I wasn't doing anything.
     VLADIMIR:
     You must be happy too, deep down, if you only knew it.
     ESTRAGON:
     Happy about what?
     VLADIMIR:
     To be back with me again.
     ESTRAGON:
     Would you say so?
     VLADIMIR:
     Say you are, even if it's not true.
     ESTRAGON:
     What am I to say?
     VLADIMIR:
     Say, I am happy.
     ESTRAGON:
     I am happy.
     VLADIMIR:
     So am I.
     ESTRAGON:
     So am I.
     VLADIMIR:
     We are happy.
     ESTRAGON:
     We are happy. (Silence.) What do we do now, now that we are happy?
     VLADIMIR:
     Wait for  Godot. (Estragon groans.  Silence.) Things  have changed here
since yesterday.
     ESTRAGON:
     And if he doesn't come?
     VLADIMIR:
     (after  a  moment of  bewilderment). We'll  see  when  the time  comes.
(Pause.) I was saying that things have changed here since yesterday.
     ESTRAGON:
     Everything oozes.
     VLADIMIR:
     Look at the tree.
     ESTRAGON:
     It's never the same pus from one second to the next.
     VLADIMIR:
     The tree, look at the tree.
     Estragon looks at the tree.
     ESTRAGON:
     Was is not there yesterday?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes of course it  was  there. Do  you not  remember?  We  nearly hanged
ourselves from it. But you wouldn't. Do you not remember?
     ESTRAGON:
     You dreamt it.
     VLADIMIR:
     Is it possible you've forgotten already?
     ESTRAGON:
     That's the way I am. Either I forget immediately or I never forget.
     VLADIMIR:
     And Pozzo and Lucky, have you forgotten them too?
     ESTRAGON:
     Pozzo and Lucky?
     VLADIMIR:
     He's forgotten everything!
     ESTRAGON:
     I  remember a lunatic  who kicked  the shins off me. Then he played the
fool.
     VLADIMIR:
     That was Lucky.
     ESTRAGON:
     I remember that. But when was it?
     VLADIMIR:
     And his keeper, do you not remember him?
     ESTRAGON:
     He gave me a bone.
     VLADIMIR:
     That was Pozzo.
     ESTRAGON:
     And all that was yesterday, you say?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes of course it was yesterday.
     ESTRAGON:
     And here where we are now?
     VLADIMIR:
     Where else do you think? Do you not recognize the place?
     ESTRAGON:
     (suddenly furious). Recognize! What is there to recognize? All my lousy
life I've  crawled  about  in the  mud! And  you talk to me  about  scenery!
(Looking wildly about him.) Look  at this muckheap! I've  never stirred from
it!
     VLADIMIR:
     Calm yourself, calm yourself.
     ESTRAGON:
     You and your landscapes! Tell me about the worms!
     VLADIMIR:
     All  the  same,  you  can't  tell me  that  this  (gesture)  bears  any
resemblance to . . .  (he hesitates) . . . to the Macon country for example.
You can't deny there's a big difference.
     ESTRAGON:
     The Macon country! Who's talking to you about the Macon country?
     VLADIMIR:
     But you were there yourself, in the Macon country.
     ESTRAGON:
     No I was never in  the Macon country! I've puked my puke of a life away
here, I tell you! Here! In the Cackon country!
     VLADIMIR:
     But we  were there together, I could swear to it! Picking  grapes for a
man called . . . (he snaps his fingers) . . . can't think of the name of the
man,  at a place called . . .  (snaps his fingers) . . . can't  think of the
name of the place, do you not remember?
     ESTRAGON:
     (a little calmer). It's possible. I didn't notice anything.
     VLADIMIR:
     But down there everything is red!
     ESTRAGON:
     (exasperated). I didn't notice anything, I tell you!
     Silence. Vladimir sighs deeply.
     VLADIMIR:
     You're a hard man to get on with, Gogo.
     ESTRAGON:
     It'd be better if we parted.
     VLADIMIR:
     You always say that and you always come crawling back.
     ESTRAGON:
     The best thing would be to kill me, like the other.
     VLADIMIR:
     What other? (Pause.) What other?
     ESTRAGON:
     Like billions of others.
     VLADIMIR:
     (sententious). To every man his little cross. (He sighs.) Till he dies.
(Afterthought.) And is forgotten.
     ESTRAGON:
     In the meantime let us try  and converse calmly, since we are incapable
of keeping silent.
     VLADIMIR:
     You're right, we're inexhaustible.
     ESTRAGON:
     It's so we won't think.
     VLADIMIR:
     We have that excuse.
     ESTRAGON:
     It's so we won't hear.
     VLADIMIR:
     We have our reasons.
     ESTRAGON:
     All the dead voices.
     VLADIMIR:
     They make a noise like wings.
     ESTRAGON:
     Like leaves.
     VLADIMIR:
     Like sand.
     ESTRAGON:
     Like leaves.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     They all speak at once.
     ESTRAGON:
     Each one to itself.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Rather they whisper.
     ESTRAGON:
     They rustle.
     VLADIMIR:
     They murmur.
     ESTRAGON:
     They rustle.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     What do they say?
     ESTRAGON:
     They talk about their lives.
     VLADIMIR:
     To have lived is not enough for them.
     ESTRAGON:
     They have to talk about it.
     VLADIMIR:
     To be dead is not enough for them.
     ESTRAGON:
     It is not sufficient.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     They make a noise like feathers.
     ESTRAGON:
     Like leaves.
     VLADIMIR:
     Likes ashes.
     ESTRAGON:
     Like leaves.
     Long silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Say something!
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm trying.
     Long silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     (in anguish). Say anything at all!
     ESTRAGON:
     What do we do now?
     VLADIMIR:
     Wait for Godot.
     ESTRAGON:
     Ah!
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     This is awful!
     ESTRAGON:
     Sing something.
     VLADIMIR:
     No no! (He reflects.) We could start all over again perhaps.
     ESTRAGON:
     That should be easy.
     VLADIMIR:
     It's the start that's difficult.
     ESTRAGON:
     You can start from anything.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes, but you have to decide.
     ESTRAGON:
     True.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Help me!
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm trying.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     When you seek you hear.
     ESTRAGON:
     You do.
     VLADIMIR:
     That prevents you from finding.
     ESTRAGON:
     It does.
     VLADIMIR:
     That prevents you from thinking.
     ESTRAGON:
     You think all the same.
     VLADIMIR:
     No no, it's impossible.
     ESTRAGON:
     That's the idea, let's contradict each another.
     VLADIMIR:
     Impossible.
     ESTRAGON:
     You think so?
     VLADIMIR:
     We're in no danger of ever thinking any more.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then what are we complaining about?
     VLADIMIR:
     Thinking is not the worst.
     ESTRAGON:
     Perhaps not. But at least there's that.
     VLADIMIR:
     That what?
     ESTRAGON:
     That's the idea, let's ask each other questions.
     VLADIMIR:
     What do you mean, at least there's that?
     ESTRAGON:
     That much less misery.
     VLADIMIR:
     True.
     ESTRAGON:
     Well? If we gave thanks for our mercies?
     VLADIMIR:
     What is terrible is to have thought.
     ESTRAGON:
     But did that ever happen to us?
     VLADIMIR:
     Where are all these corpses from?
     ESTRAGON:
     These skeletons.
     VLADIMIR:
     Tell me that.
     ESTRAGON:
     True.
     VLADIMIR:
     We must have thought a little.
     ESTRAGON:
     At the very beginning.
     VLADIMIR:
     A charnel-house! A charnel-house!
     ESTRAGON:
     You don't have to look.
     VLADIMIR:
     You can't help looking.
     ESTRAGON:
     True.
     VLADIMIR:
     Try as one may.
     ESTRAGON:
     I beg your pardon?
     VLADIMIR:
     Try as one may.
     ESTRAGON:
     We should turn resolutely towards Nature.
     VLADIMIR:
     We've tried that.
     ESTRAGON:
     True.
     VLADIMIR:
     Oh it's not the worst, I know.
     ESTRAGON:
     What?
     VLADIMIR:
     To have thought.
     ESTRAGON:
     Obviously.
     VLADIMIR:
     But we could have done without it.
     ESTRAGON:
     Que voulez-vous?
     VLADIMIR:
     I beg your pardon?
     ESTRAGON:
     Que voulez-vouz.
     VLADIMIR:
     Ah! que voulez-vous. Exactly.
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     That wasn't such a bad little canter.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes, but now we'll have to find something else.
     ESTRAGON:
     Let me see.
     He takes off his hat, concentrates.
     VLADIMIR:
     Let me see. (He takes off his hat, concentrates. Long silence.) Ah!
     They put on their hats, relax.
     ESTRAGON:
     Well?
     VLADIMIR:
     What was I saying, we could go on from there.
     ESTRAGON:
     What were you saying when?
     VLADIMIR:
     At the very beginning.
     ESTRAGON:
     The very beginning of WHAT?
     VLADIMIR:
     This evening . . . I was saying . . . I was saying . . .
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm not a historian.
     VLADIMIR:
     Wait . . . we embraced . . . we were happy . . . happy . . . what do we
do now that we're happy . . . go on waiting . . . waiting . . . let me think
. . . it's coming . . . go on waiting . . . now that we're  happy .  . . let
me see . . . ah! The tree!
     ESTRAGON:
     The tree?
     VLADIMIR:
     Do you not remember?
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm tired.
     VLADIMIR:
     Look at it.
     They look at the tree.
     ESTRAGON:
     I see nothing.
     VLADIMIR:
     But yesterday  evening it was all black and bare. And  now it's covered
with leaves.
     ESTRAGON:
     Leaves?
     VLADIMIR:
     In a single night.
     ESTRAGON:
     It must be the Spring.
     VLADIMIR:
     But in a single night!
     ESTRAGON:
     I tell you we weren't here yesterday. Another of your nightmares.
     VLADIMIR:
     And where were we yesterday evening according to you?
     ESTRAGON:
     How would I know? In another compartment. There's no lack of void.
     VLADIMIR:
     (sure of himself).  Good. We weren't here yesterday evening.  Now  what
did we do yesterday evening?
     ESTRAGON:
     Do?
     VLADIMIR:
     Try and remember.
     ESTRAGON:
     Do . . . I suppose we blathered.
     VLADIMIR:
     (controlling himself). About what?
     ESTRAGON:
     Oh .  .  .  this  and  that  I  suppose, nothing in  particular.  (With
assurance.) Yes, now I remember, yesterday evening we spent blathering about
nothing in particular. That's been going on now for half a century.
     VLADIMIR:
     You don't remember any fact, any circumstance?
     ESTRAGON:
     (weary). Don't torment me, Didi.
     VLADIMIR:
     The sun. The moon. Do you not remember?
     ESTRAGON:
     They must have been there, as usual.
     VLADIMIR:
     You didn't notice anything out of the ordinary?
     ESTRAGON:
     Alas!
     VLADIMIR:
     And Pozzo? And Lucky?
     ESTRAGON:
     Pozzo?
     VLADIMIR:
     The bones.
     ESTRAGON:
     They were like fishbones.
     VLADIMIR:
     It was Pozzo gave them to you.
     ESTRAGON:
     I don't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     And the kick.
     ESTRAGON:
     That's right, someone gave me a kick.
     VLADIMIR:
     It was Lucky gave it to you.
     ESTRAGON:
     And all that was yesterday?
     VLADIMIR:
     Show me your leg.
     ESTRAGON:
     Which?
     VLADIMIR:
     Both.  Pull  up  your  trousers. (Estragon  gives a  leg  to  Vladimir,
staggers. Vladimir takes the leg. They stagger.) Pull up your trousers.
     ESTRAGON:
     I can't.
     Vladimir pulls up  the trousers, looks at the leg, lets it go. Estragon
almost falls.
     VLADIMIR:
     The  other. (Estragon gives  the same leg.)  The other, pig!  (Estragon
gives the other leg. Triumphantly.) There's the wound! Beginning to fester!
     ESTRAGON:
     And what about it?
     VLADIMIR:
     (letting go the leg). Where are your boots?
     ESTRAGON:
     I must have thrown them away.
     VLADIMIR:
     When?
     ESTRAGON:
     I don't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     Why?
     ESTRAGON:
     (exasperated). I don't know why I don't know!
     VLADIMIR:
     No, I mean why did you throw them away?
     ESTRAGON:
     (exasperated). Because they were hurting me!
     VLADIMIR:
     (triumphantly, pointing to the  boots). There they are! (Estragon looks
at the boots.) At the very spot where you left them yesterday!
     Estragon goes towards the boots, inspects them closely.
     ESTRAGON:
     They're not mine.
     VLADIMIR:
     (stupefied). Not yours!
     ESTRAGON:
     Mine were black. These are brown.
     VLADIMIR:
     You're sure yours were black?
     ESTRAGON:
     Well they were a kind of gray.
     VLADIMIR:
     And these are brown. Show me.
     ESTRAGON:
     (picking up a boot). Well they're a kind of green.
     VLADIMIR:
     Show me. (Estragon hands him the boot. Vladimir inspects it, throws  it
down angrily.) Well of all the--
     ESTRAGON:
     You see, all that's a lot of bloody--
     VLADIMIR:
     Ah! I see what it is. Yes, I see what's happened.
     ESTRAGON:
     All that's a lot of bloody--
     VLADIMIR:
     It's elementary. Someone came and took yours and left you his.
     ESTRAGON:
     Why?
     VLADIMIR:
     His were too tight for him, so he took yours.
     ESTRAGON:
     But mine were too tight.
     VLADIMIR:
     For you. Not for him.
     ESTRAGON:
     (having tried in vain to work it out). I'm tired! (Pause.) Let's go.
     VLADIMIR:
     We can't.
     ESTRAGON:
     Why not?
     VLADIMIR:
     We're waiting for Godot.
     ESTRAGON:
     Ah! (Pause. Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
     VLADIMIR:
     There's nothing we can do.
     ESTRAGON:
     But I can't go on like this!
     VLADIMIR:
     Would you like a radish?
     ESTRAGON:
     Is that all there is?
     VLADIMIR:
     There are radishes and turnips.
     ESTRAGON:
     Are there no carrots?
     VLADIMIR:
     No. Anyway you overdo it with your carrots.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then give me a radish. (Vladimir fumbles in  his pockets, finds nothing
but turnips,  finally  brings  out a  radish and  hands it to  Estragon  who
examines it, sniffs it.) It's black!
     VLADIMIR:
     It's a radish.
     ESTRAGON:
     I only like the pink ones, you know that!
     VLADIMIR:
     Then you don't want it?
     ESTRAGON:
     I only like the pink ones!
     VLADIMIR:
     Then give it back to me.
     Estragon gives it back.
     ESTRAGON:
     I'll go and get a carrot.
     He does not move.
     VLADIMIR:
     This is becoming really insignificant.
     ESTRAGON:
     Not enough.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     What about trying them.
     ESTRAGON:
     I've tried everything.
     VLADIMIR:
     No, I mean the boots.
     ESTRAGON:
     Would that be a good thing?
     VLADIMIR:
     It'd pass  the  time.  (Estragon hesitates.) I assure you, it'd  be  an
occupation.
     ESTRAGON:
     A relaxation.
     VLADIMIR:
     A recreation.
     ESTRAGON:
     A relaxation.
     VLADIMIR:
     Try.
     ESTRAGON:
     You'll help me?
     VLADIMIR:
     I will of course.
     ESTRAGON:
     We don't manage too badly, eh Didi, between the two of us?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes yes. Come on, we'll try the left first.
     ESTRAGON:
     We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist?
     VLADIMIR:
     (impatiently).  Yes yes, we're magicians. But let us persevere in  what
we  have resolved, before we forget. (He picks up a  boot.) Come on, give me
your foot. (Estragon raises his foot.) The other, hog!  (Estragon raises the
other foot.) Higher! #
     

     (Wreathed together  they stagger about  the  stage.  Vladimir  succeeds
finally in getting on the boot.) Try and walk. (Estragon walks.) Well?
     ESTRAGON:
     It fits.
     VLADIMIR:
     (taking string from his pocket). We'll try and lace it.
     ESTRAGON:
     (vehemently). No no, no laces, no laces!
     VLADIMIR:
     You'll be sorry. Let's try the other. (As before.) Well?
     ESTRAGON:
     (grudgingly). It fits too.
     VLADIMIR:
     They don't hurt you?
     ESTRAGON:
     Not yet.
     VLADIMIR:
     Then you can keep them.
     ESTRAGON:
     They're too big.
     VLADIMIR:
     Perhaps you'll have socks some day.
     ESTRAGON:
     True.
     VLADIMIR:
     Then you'll keep them?
     ESTRAGON:
     That's enough about these boots.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes, but--
     ESTRAGON:
     (violently). Enough! (Silence.) I suppose I might as well sit down.
     He looks for a place to sit down, then goes and sits down on the mound.
     VLADIMIR:
     That's where you were sitting yesterday evening.
     ESTRAGON:
     If I could only sleep.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yesterday you slept.
     ESTRAGON:
     I'll try.
     He resumes his foetal posture, his head between his knees.
     VLADIMIR:
     Wait. (He goes over and sits down beside Estragon and begins to sing in
a loud voice.)
     Bye bye bye bye
     Bye bye- #

     


     ESTRAGON:
     (looking up angrily). Not so loud!
     VLADIMIR:
     (softly).
     Bye bye bye bye
     Bye bye bye bye
     Bye bye bye bye
     Bye bye . . .
     Estragon sleeps. Vladimir  gets up softly,  takes off his coat and lays
it across  Estragon's  shoulders,  then starts walking up and down, swinging
his arms to keep himself warm.  Estragon wakes with a start, jumps up, casts
about  wildly. Vladimir runs to him, puts his arms around him.) There .  . .
there . . . Didi is here . . . don't be afraid . . .
     ESTRAGON:
     Ah!
     VLADIMIR:
     There . . . there . . . it's all over.
     ESTRAGON:
     I was falling--
     VLADIMIR:
     It's all over, it's all over.
     ESTRAGON:
     I was on top of a--
     VLADIMIR:
     Don't tell me! Come, we'll walk it off.
     He takes  Estragon by  the arm and walks him up and down until Estragon
refuses to go any further.
     ESTRAGON:
     That's enough. I'm tired.
     VLADIMIR:
     You'd rather be stuck there doing nothing?
     ESTRAGON:
     Yes.
     VLADIMIR:
     Please yourself.
     He releases Estragon, picks up his coat and puts it on.
     ESTRAGON:
     Let's go.
     VLADIMIR:
     We can't.
     ESTRAGON:
     Why not?
     VLADIMIR:
     We're waiting for Godot.
     ESTRAGON:
     Ah! (Vladimir walks up and down.) Can you not stay still?
     VLADIMIR:
     I'm cold.
     ESTRAGON:
     We came too soon.
     VLADIMIR:
     It's always at nightfall.
     ESTRAGON:
     But night doesn't fall.
     VLADIMIR:
     It'll fall all of a sudden, like yesterday.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then it'll be night.
     VLADIMIR:
     And we can go.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then it'll be day again. (Pause. Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we
do!
     VLADIMIR:
     (halting, violently). Will you stop whining! I've had about my bellyful
of your lamentations!
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm going.
     VLADIMIR:
     (seeing Lucky's hat). Well!
     ESTRAGON:
     Farewell.
     VLADIMIR:
     Lucky's hat. (He goes towards it.) I've been here an hour and never saw
it. (Very pleased.) Fine!
     ESTRAGON:
     You'll never see me again.
     VLADIMIR:
     I knew  it was the right place. Now our troubles are over. (He picks up
the hat, contemplates it, straightens it.) Must have  been  a very fine hat.
(He puts it on in place of his own which he hands to Estragon.) Here.
     ESTRAGON:
     What?
     VLADIMIR:
     Hold that.
     Estragon takes  Vladimir's  hat.  Vladimir adjusts Lucky's  hat on  his
head.  Estragon puts on Vladimir's hat in place of his own which he hands to
Vladimir. Vladimir takes Estragon's hat.  Estragon adjusts Vladimir's hat on
his head. Vladimir puts on Estragon's hat in place of Lucky's which he hands
to Estragon.  Estragon takes Lucky's hat. Vladimir adjusts Estragon's hat on
his head. Estragon puts on Lucky's hat in place of Vladimir's which he hands
to  Vladimir. Vladimir  takes  his hat, Estragon  adjusts Lucky's hat on his
head.  Vladimir  puts on his  hat in  place of Estragon's  which he hands to
Estragon.  Estragon takes his hat. Vladimir  adjusts his  hat  on  his head.
Estragon puts  on  his  hat in  place of Lucky's which he hands to Vladimir.
Vladimir takes Lucky's hat. Estragon adjusts his  hat  on his head. Vladimir
puts on Lucky's hat in place of his own which he hands to Estragon. Estragon
takes Vladimir's hat. Vladimir adjusts  Lucky's hat on  his  head.  Estragon
hands  Vladimir's  hat back  to Vladimir who takes it and hands it  back  to
Estragon who  takes it and hands it back to Vladimir who takes it and throws
it down.
     How does it fit me?
     ESTRAGON:
     How would I know?
     VLADIMIR:
     No, but how do I look in it?
     He turns his head coquettishly to and fro, minces like a mannequin.
     ESTRAGON:
     Hideous.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes, but not more so than usual?
     ESTRAGON:
     Neither more nor less.
     VLADIMIR:
     Then I can  keep it. Mine irked me. (Pause.) How shall I  say? (Pause.)
It itched me.
     He takes off  Lucky's  hat, peers  into  it, shakes  it,  knocks on the
crown, puts it on again.
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm going.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Will you not play?
     ESTRAGON:
     Play at what?
     VLADIMIR:
     We could play at Pozzo and Lucky.
     ESTRAGON:
     Never heard of it.
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll  do  Lucky,  you  do Pozzo. (He imitates  Lucky  sagging under the
weight of his baggage. Estragon looks at him with stupefaction.) Go on.
     ESTRAGON:
     What am I to do?
     VLADIMIR:
     Curse me!
     ESTRAGON:
     (after reflection). Naughty!
     VLADIMIR:
     Stronger!
     ESTRAGON:
     Gonococcus! Spirochete!
     Vladimir sways back and forth, doubled in two.
     VLADIMIR:
     Tell me to think.
     ESTRAGON:
     What?
     VLADIMIR:
     Say, Think, pig!
     ESTRAGON:
     Think, pig!
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     I can't.
     ESTRAGON:
     That's enough of that.
     VLADIMIR:
     Tell me to dance.
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm going.
     VLADIMIR:
     Dance, hog! (He  writhes.  Exit Estragon left, precipitately.) I can't!
(He looks  up, misses  Estragon.)  Gogo!  (He  moves wildly about the stage.
Enter  Estragon  left,  panting. He hastens towards Vladimir, falls into his
arms.) There you are again at last!
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm accursed!
     VLADIMIR:
     Where were you? I thought you were gone for ever.
     ESTRAGON:
     They're coming!
     VLADIMIR:
     Who?
     ESTRAGON:
     I don't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     How many?
     ESTRAGON:
     I don't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     (triumphantly).  It's Godot!  At  last!  Gogo! It's Godot! We're saved!
Let's go  and meet  him!  (He  drags  Estragon  towards the  wings. Estragon
resists, pulls himself free, exit right.) Gogo! Come back! (Vladimir runs to
extreme left,  scans  the horizon. Enter Estragon right, he  hastens towards
Vladimir, falls into his arms.) There you are again again!
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm in hell!
     VLADIMIR:
     Where were you?
     ESTRAGON:
     They're coming there too!
     VLADIMIR:
     We're surrounded!  (Estragon  makes  a  rush  towards  back.) Imbecile!
There's no  way out there.  (He  takes  Estragon by  the  arm and drags  him
towards  front. Gesture towards front.) There! Not a soul in sight! Off  you
go!  Quick!  (He pushes  Estragon  towards auditorium.  Estragon recoils  in
horror.)  You  won't?  (He  contemplates auditorium.) Well  I can understand
that. Wait till I see. (He reflects.) Your only hope left is to disappear.
     ESTRAGON:
     Where?
     VLADIMIR:
     Behind  the  tree.  (Estragon  hesitates.)  Quick!  Behind   the  tree.
(Estragon goes  and crouches  behind  the  tree, realizes  he is not hidden,
comes out from behind the tree.) Decidedly this tree will not  have been the
slightest use to us.
     ESTRAGON:
     (calmer). I  lost my head. Forgive me. It  won't happen  again. Tell me
what to do.
     VLADIMIR:
     There's nothing to do.
     ESTRAGON:
     You go and stand there. (He draws Vladimir  to extreme right and places
him with his back to the stage.) There, don't move, and watch out. (Vladimir
scans horizon, screening his eyes with his  hand. Estragon runs and takes up
same  position extreme left. They turn their heads and look  at each other.)
Back to back like in the good old days. (They continue to look at each other
for a  moment, then resume their watch. Long  silence.) Do you  see anything
coming?
     VLADIMIR:
     (turning his head). What?
     ESTRAGON:
     (louder). Do you see anything coming?
     VLADIMIR:
     No.
     ESTRAGON:
     Nor I.
     They resume their watch. Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     You must have had a vision.
     ESTRAGON:
     (turning his head). What?
     VLADIMIR:
     (louder). You must have had a vision.
     ESTRAGON:
     No need to shout!
     They resume their watch. Silence.
     VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
     (turning simultaneously). Do you--
     VLADIMIR:
     Oh pardon!
     ESTRAGON:
     Carry on.
     VLADIMIR:
     No no, after you.
     ESTRAGON:
     No no, you first.
     VLADIMIR:
     I interrupted you.
     ESTRAGON:
     On the contrary.
     They glare at each other angrily.
     VLADIMIR:
     Ceremonious ape!
     ESTRAGON:
     Punctilious pig!
     VLADIMIR:
     Finish your phrase, I tell you!
     ESTRAGON:
     Finish your own!
     Silence. They draw closer, halt.
     VLADIMIR:
     Moron!
     ESTRAGON:
     That's the idea, let's abuse each other.
     They turn, move apart, turn again and face each other.
     VLADIMIR:
     Moron!
     ESTRAGON:
     Vermin!
     VLADIMIR:
     Abortion!
     ESTRAGON:
     Morpion!
     VLADIMIR:
     Sewer-rat!
     ESTRAGON:
     Curate!
     VLADIMIR:
     Cretin!
     ESTRAGON:
     (with finality). Crritic!
     VLADIMIR:
     Oh!
     He wilts, vanquished, and turns away.
     ESTRAGON:
     Now let's make it up.
     VLADIMIR:
     Gogo!
     ESTRAGON:
     Didi!
     VLADIMIR:
     Your hand!
     ESTRAGON:
     Take it!
     VLADIMIR:
     Come to my arms!
     ESTRAGON:
     Yours arms?
     VLADIMIR:
     My breast!
     ESTRAGON:
     Off we go!
     They embrace. #
     

     They separate. Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     How time flies when one has fun!
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     What do we do now?
     VLADIMIR:
     While waiting.
     ESTRAGON:
     While waiting.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     We could do our exercises.
     ESTRAGON:
     Our movements.
     VLADIMIR:
     Our elevations.
     ESTRAGON:
     Our relaxations.
     VLADIMIR:
     Our elongations.
     ESTRAGON:
     Our relaxations.
     VLADIMIR:
     To warm us up.
     ESTRAGON:
     To calm us down.
     VLADIMIR:
     Off we go.
     Vladimir hops from one foot to the other. Estragon imitates him.
     ESTRAGON:
     (stopping). That's enough. I'm tired.
     VLADIMIR:
     (stopping). We're not in shape. What about a little deep breathing?
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm tired breathing.
     VLADIMIR:
     You're right. (Pause.) Let's just do the tree, for the balance.
     ESTRAGON:
     The tree?
     Vladimir does the tree, staggering about on one leg.
     VLADIMIR:
     (stopping). Your turn.
     Estragon does the tree, staggers.
     ESTRAGON:
     Do you think God sees me?
     VLADIMIR:
     You must close your eyes.
     Estragon closes his eyes, staggers worse.
     ESTRAGON:
     (stopping, brandishing his fists, at  the  top  of his voice.) God have
pity on me!
     VLADIMIR:
     (vexed). And me?
     ESTRAGON:
     On me! On me! Pity! On me!
     Enter Pozzo and Lucky. Pozzo is  blind. Lucky burdened  as before. Rope
as before,  but much shorter,  so  that Pozzo  may follow more easily. Lucky
wearing  a  different  hat. At the sight  of  Vladimir and Estragon he stops
short. Pozzo, continuing on his way, bumps into him.
     VLADIMIR:
     Gogo!
     POZZO:
     (clutching onto Lucky who staggers). What is it? Who is it?
     Lucky falls, drops everything and  brings down Pozzo with him. They lie
helpless among the scattered baggage.
     ESTRAGON:
     Is it Godot?
     VLADIMIR:
     At last! (He goes towards the heap.) Reinforcements at last!
     POZZO:
     Help!
     ESTRAGON:
     Is it Godot?
     VLADIMIR:
     We were beginning to weaken. Now we're sure to see the evening out.
     POZZO:
     Help!
     ESTRAGON:
     Do you hear him?
     VLADIMIR:
     We are  no  longer alone,  waiting  for the  night, waiting  for Godot,
waiting for  .  . . waiting. All evening we have struggled, unassisted.  Now
it's over. It's already tomorrow.
     POZZO:
     Help!
     VLADIMIR:
     Time flows again already. The sun will set, the moon rise,  and we away
. . . from here.
     POZZO:
     Pity!
     VLADIMIR:
     Poor Pozzo!
     ESTRAGON:
     I knew it was him.
     VLADIMIR:
     Who?
     ESTRAGON:
     Godot.
     VLADIMIR:
     But it's not Godot.
     ESTRAGON:
     It's not Godot?
     VLADIMIR:
     It's not Godot.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then who is it?
     VLADIMIR:
     It's Pozzo.
     POZZO:
     Here! Here! Help me up!
     VLADIMIR:
     He can't get up.
     ESTRAGON:
     Let's go.
     VLADIMIR:
     We can't.
     ESTRAGON:
     Why not?
     VLADIMIR:
     We're waiting for Godot.
     ESTRAGON:
     Ah!
     VLADIMIR:
     Perhaps he has another bone for you.
     ESTRAGON:
     Bone?
     VLADIMIR:
     Chicken. Do you not remember?
     ESTRAGON:
     It was him?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes.
     ESTRAGON:
     Ask him.
     VLADIMIR:
     Perhaps we should help him first.
     ESTRAGON:
     To do what?
     VLADIMIR:
     To get up.
     ESTRAGON:
     He can't get up?
     VLADIMIR:
     He wants to get up.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then let him get up.
     VLADIMIR:
     He can't.
     ESTRAGON:
     Why not?
     VLADIMIR:
     I don't know.
     Pozzo writhes, groans, beats the ground with his fists.
     ESTRAGON:
     We should  ask him  for the  bone first. Then if he refuses we'll leave
him there.
     VLADIMIR:
     You mean we have him at our mercy?
     ESTRAGON:
     Yes.
     VLADIMIR:
     And that we should subordinate our good offices to certain conditions?
     ESTRAGON:
     What?
     VLADIMIR:
     That seems intelligent all right. But there's one thing I'm afraid of.
     POZZO:
     Help!
     ESTRAGON:
     What?
     VLADIMIR:
     That Lucky might get going all of a sudden. Then we'd be ballocksed.
     ESTRAGON:
     Lucky?
     VLADIMIR:
     The one that went for you yesterday.
     ESTRAGON:
     I tell you there was ten of them.
     VLADIMIR:
     No, before that, the one that kicked you.
     ESTRAGON:
     Is he there?
     VLADIMIR:
     As large as life. (Gesture towards  Lucky.) For the moment he is inert.
But he might run amuck any minute.
     POZZO:
     Help!
     ESTRAGON:
     And suppose we gave him a good beating, the two of us.
     VLADIMIR:
     You mean if we fell on him in his sleep?
     ESTRAGON:
     Yes.
     VLADIMIR:
     That seems a good idea all right.  But could  we  do it?  Is he  really
asleep? (Pause.) No, the best would be  to take advantage of Pozzo's calling
for help--
     POZZO:
     Help!
     VLADIMIR:
     To help him--
     ESTRAGON:
     We help him?
     VLADIMIR:
     In anticipation of some tangible return.
     ESTRAGON:
     And suppose he--
     VLADIMIR:
     Let us not waste our time  in idle  discourse! (Pause. Vehemently.) Let
us do something,  while we have the chance! It is not every day  that we are
needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case
equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries
for help still ringing in  our  ears!  But at this place, at this moment  of
time, all mankind is us, whether we like  it or not. Let us make the most of
it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood
to  which  a  cruel  fate consigned  us!  What do  you  say? (Estragon  says
nothing.) It is true that when with folded  arms we weigh  the pros and cons
we are no less a credit to our species. The tiger  bounds to the help of his
congeners without the  least reflection,  or  else  he slinks away  into the
depths  of  the thickets.  But that is not the question. What  are  we doing
here, that is the  question. And we are blessed in this, that  we happen  to
know the answer. Yes, in this immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We
are waiting for Godot to come--
     ESTRAGON:
     Ah!
     POZZO:
     Help!
     VLADIMIR:
     Or for night to fall. (Pause.)  We have kept our appointment and that's
an end to that. We  are not saints,  but we have kept  our appointment.  How
many people can boast as much?
     ESTRAGON:
     Billions.
     VLADIMIR:
     You think so?
     ESTRAGON:
     I don't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     You may be right.
     POZZO:
     Help! #
     


     VLADIMIR:
     All  I  know is that  the  hours are long, under these  conditions, and
constrain us to beguile them with proceedings which  -how shall I say- which
may at first sight seem reasonable, until they become  a  habit. You may say
it is to prevent our reason from foundering. No  doubt. But has it  not long
been straying in the  night without end of the abyssal depths? That's what I
sometimes wonder. You follow my reasoning?
     ESTRAGON:
     (aphoristic for once). We are all born mad. Some remain so.
     POZZO:
     Help! I'll pay you!
     ESTRAGON:
     How much?
     POZZO:
     One hundred francs!
     ESTRAGON:
     It's not enough.
     VLADIMIR:
     I wouldn't go so far as that.
     ESTRAGON:
     You think it's enough?
     VLADIMIR:
     No, I mean so far as to assert that I was weak in the head  when I came
into the world. But that is not the question.
     POZZO:
     Two hundred!
     VLADIMIR:
     We wait. We  are bored. (He throws up his hand.)  No, don't protest, we
are bored to death, there's no denying it. Good. A diversion comes along and
what do we do? We let it go to waste. Come,  let's get to work! (He advances
towards the heap, stops in  his stride.) In an instant  all will  vanish and
we'll be alone once more, in the midst of nothingness!
     He broods.
     POZZO:
     Two hundred!
     VLADIMIR:
     We're coming!
     He tries to pull  Pozzo to  his  feet,  fails,  tries  again, stumbles,
falls, tries to get up, fails.
     ESTRAGON:
     What's the matter with you all?
     VLADIMIR:
     Help!
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm going.
     VLADIMIR:
     Don't leave me! They'll kill me!
     POZZO:
     Where am I?
     VLADIMIR:
     Gogo!
     POZZO:
     Help!
     VLADIMIR:
     Help!
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm going.
     VLADIMIR:
     Help me up first, then we'll go together.
     ESTRAGON:
     You promise?
     VLADIMIR:
     I swear it!
     ESTRAGON:
     And we'll never come back?
     VLADIMIR:
     Never!
     ESTRAGON:
     We'll go to the Pyrenees.
     VLADIMIR:
     Wherever you like.
     ESTRAGON:
     I've always wanted to wander in the Pyrenees.
     VLADIMIR:
     You'll wander in them.
     ESTRAGON:
     (recoiling). Who farted?
     VLADIMIR:
     Pozzo.
     POZZO:
     Here! Here! Pity!
     ESTRAGON:
     It's revolting!
     VLADIMIR:
     Quick! Give me your hand!
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm going. (Pause. Louder.) I'm going.
     VLADIMIR:
     Well I suppose in the end I'll  get up by myself. (He tries, fails.) In
the fullness of time.
     ESTRAGON:
     What's the matter with you?
     VLADIMIR:
     Go to hell.
     ESTRAGON:
     Are you staying there?
     VLADIMIR:
     For the time being.
     ESTRAGON:
     Come on, get up, you'll catch a chill.
     VLADIMIR:
     Don't worry about me.
     ESTRAGON:
     Come on, Didi, don't be pig-headed!
     He stretches out his hand which Vladimir makes haste to seize.
     VLADIMIR:
     Pull!
     Estragon pulls, stumbles, falls. Long silence.
     POZZO:
     Help!
     VLADIMIR:
     We've arrived.
     POZZO:
     Who are you?
     VLADIMIR:
     We are men.
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     Sweet mother earth!
     VLADIMIR:
     Can you get up?
     ESTRAGON:
     I don't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     Try.
     ESTRAGON:
     Not now, not now.
     Silence.
     POZZO:
     What happened?
     VLADIMIR:
     (violently). Will you stop it, you!  Pest! He can think of  nothing but
himself!
     ESTRAGON:
     What about a little snooze?
     VLADIMIR:
     Did you hear him? He wants to know what happened!
     ESTRAGON:
     Don't mind him. Sleep.
     Silence.
     POZZO:
     Pity! Pity!
     ESTRAGON:
     (with a start). What is it?
     VLADIMIR:
     Were you asleep?
     ESTRAGON:
     I must have been.
     VLADIMIR:
     It's this bastard Pozzo at it again.
     ESTRAGON:
     Make him stop it. Kick him in the crotch.
     VLADIMIR:
     (striking  Pozzo).  Will  you  stop  it!  Crablouse! (Pozzo  extricates
himself  with cries of pain and crawls away. He stops, saws the air blindly,
calling for  help. Vladimir,  propped on his  elbow, observes his  retreat.)
He's off! (Pozzo collapses.) He's down!
     #
     

     ESTRAGON:
     What do we do now?
     VLADIMIR:
     Perhaps I could crawl to him.
     ESTRAGON:
     Don't leave me!
     VLADIMIR:
     Or I could call to him.
     ESTRAGON:
     Yes, call to him.
     VLADIMIR:
     Pozzo! (Silence.) Pozzo! (Silence.) No reply.
     ESTRAGON:
     Together.
     VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
     Pozzo! Pozzo!
     VLADIMIR:
     He moved.
     ESTRAGON:
     Are you sure his name is Pozzo?
     VLADIMIR:
     (alarmed). Mr. Pozzo! Come back! We won't hurt you!
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     We might try him with other names.
     VLADIMIR:
     I'm afraid he's dying.
     ESTRAGON:
     It'd be amusing.
     VLADIMIR:
     What'd be amusing?
     ESTRAGON:
     To try him with  other names, one after the other. It'd  pass the time.
And we'd be bound to hit on the right one sooner or later.
     VLADIMIR:
     I tell you his name is Pozzo.
     ESTRAGON:
     We'll soon see. (He reflects.) Abel! Abel!
     POZZO:
     Help!
     ESTRAGON:
     Got it in one!
     VLADIMIR:
     I begin to weary of this motif.
     ESTRAGON:
     Perhaps the other is called Cain. Cain! Cain!
     POZZO:
     Help!
     ESTRAGON:
     He's all humanity. (Silence.) Look at the little cloud.
     VLADIMIR:
     (raising his eyes). Where?
     ESTRAGON:
     There. In the zenith.
     VLADIMIR:
     Well? (Pause.) What is there so wonderful about it?
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     Let's pass on now to something else, do you mind?
     VLADIMIR:
     I was just going to suggest it.
     ESTRAGON:
     But to what?
     VLADIMIR:
     Ah!
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     Suppose we got up to begin with?
     VLADIMIR:
     No harm trying.
     They get up.
     ESTRAGON:
     Child's play.
     VLADIMIR:
     Simple question of will-power.
     ESTRAGON:
     And now?
     POZZO:
     Help!
     ESTRAGON:
     Let's go.
     VLADIMIR:
     We can't.
     ESTRAGON:
     Why not?
     VLADIMIR:
     We're waiting for Godot.
     ESTRAGON:
     Ah! (Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
     POZZO:
     Help!
     VLADIMIR:
     What about helping him?
     ESTRAGON:
     What does he want?
     VLADIMIR:
     He wants to get up.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then why doesn't he?
     VLADIMIR:
     He wants us to help him get up.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then why don't we? What are we waiting for?
     They help Pozzo to his feet, let him go. He falls.
     VLADIMIR:
     We must hold him. (They get him up again.  Pozzo sags between them, his
arms round their necks.) #
     

     Feeling better?
     POZZO:
     Who are you?
     VLADIMIR:
     Do you not recognize us?
     POZZO:
     I am blind.
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     Perhaps he can see into the future.
     VLADIMIR:
     Since when?
     POZZO:
     I used to have wonderful sight-- but are you friends?
     ESTRAGON:
     (laughing noisily). He wants to know if we are friends!
     VLADIMIR:
     No, he means friends of his.
     ESTRAGON:
     Well?
     VLADIMIR:
     We've proved we are, by helping him.
     ESTRAGON:
     Exactly. Would we have helped him if we weren't his friends?
     VLADIMIR:
     Possibly.
     ESTRAGON:
     True.
     VLADIMIR:
     Don't let's quibble about that now.
     POZZO:
     You are not highwaymen?
     ESTRAGON:
     Highwaymen! Do we look like highwaymen?
     VLADIMIR:
     Damn it, can't you see the man is blind!
     ESTRAGON:
     Damn it, so he is. (Pause.) So he says.
     POZZO:
     Don't leave me!
     VLADIMIR:
     No question of it.
     ESTRAGON:
     For the moment.
     POZZO:
     What time is it?
     VLADIMIR:
     (inspecting the sky). Seven o'clock . . . eight o'clock . . .
     ESTRAGON:
     That depends what time of year it is.
     POZZO:
     Is it evening?
     Silence. Vladimir and Estragon scrutinize the sunset.
     ESTRAGON:
     It's rising.
     VLADIMIR:
     Impossible.
     ESTRAGON:
     Perhaps it's the dawn.
     VLADIMIR:
     Don't be a fool. It's the west over there.
     ESTRAGON:
     How do you know?
     POZZO:
     (anguished). Is it evening?
     VLADIMIR:
     Anyway, it hasn't moved.
     ESTRAGON:
     I tell you it's rising.
     POZZO:
     Why don't you answer me?
     ESTRAGON:
     Give us a chance.
     VLADIMIR:
     (reassuring). It's  evening, Sir,  it's evening, night is drawing nigh.
My friend here would have me doubt it  and I must confess he  shook me for a
moment. But  it is not for nothing I have lived through this long day  and I
can assure you it is very near the end of its repertory. (Pause.) How do you
feel now?
     ESTRAGON:
     How  much longer are we to cart  him  around? (They half  release  him,
catch him again as he falls.) We are not caryatids!
     VLADIMIR:
     You were saying your sight used to be good, if I heard you right.
     POZZO:
     Wonderful! Wonderful, wonderful sight!
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     (irritably). Expand! Expand!
     VLADIMIR:
     Let  him  alone.  Can't you see he's thinking of  the days when  he was
happy. (Pause.) Memoria praeteritorum bonorum-- that must be unpleasant.
     ESTRAGON:
     We wouldn't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     And it came on you all of a sudden?
     POZZO:
     Quite wonderful!
     VLADIMIR:
     I'm asking you if it came on you all of a sudden.
     POZZO:
     I woke up one fine day as blind as Fortune. (Pause.) Sometimes I wonder
if I'm not still asleep.
     VLADIMIR:
     And when was that?
     POZZO:
     I don't know.
     VLADIMIR:
     But no later than yesterday--
     POZZO:
     (violently). Don't question me! The  blind have no notion of  time. The
things of time are hidden from them too.
     VLADIMIR:
     Well just fancy that! I could have sworn it was just the opposite.
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm going.
     POZZO:
     Where are we?
     VLADIMIR:
     I couldn't tell you.
     POZZO:
     It isn't by any chance the place known as the Board?
     VLADIMIR:
     Never heard of it.
     POZZO:
     What is it like?
     VLADIMIR:
     (looking  round).  It's  indescribable.  It's   like  nothing.  There's
nothing. There's a tree.
     POZZO:
     Then it's not the Board.
     ESTRAGON:
     (sagging). Some diversion!
     POZZO:
     Where is my menial?
     VLADIMIR:
     He's about somewhere.
     POZZO:
     Why doesn't he answer when I call?
     VLADIMIR:
     I don't know. He seems to be sleeping. Perhaps he's dead.
     POZZO:
     What happened exactly?
     ESTRAGON:
     Exactly!
     VLADIMIR:
     The two of you slipped. (Pause.) And fell.
     POZZO:
     Go and see is he hurt.
     VLADIMIR:
     We can't leave you.
     POZZO:
     You needn't both go.
     VLADIMIR:
     (to Estragon). You go.
     ESTRAGON:
     After what he did to me? Never!
     POZZO:
     Yes  yes, let your  friend go,  he  stinks  so. (Silence.) What  is  he
waiting for?
     VLADIMIR:
     What are you waiting for?
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm waiting for Godot.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     What exactly should he do?
     POZZO:
     Well to begin  with he should pull  on the rope, as hard as he likes so
long as  he  doesn't strangle him.  He  usually responds to that. If  not he
should give him a taste of his boot, in the face and the  privates as far as
possible.
     VLADIMIR:
     (to  Estragon). You see, you've nothing to  be afraid of.  It's even an
opportunity to revenge yourself.
     ESTRAGON:
     And if he defends himself?
     POZZO:
     No no, he never defends himself.
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll come flying to the rescue.
     ESTRAGON:
     Don't take your eyes off me.
     He goes towards Lucky.
     VLADIMIR:
     Make sure he's alive before you start. No point in exerting yourself if
he's dead.
     ESTRAGON:
     (bending over Lucky). He's breathing.
     VLADIMIR:
     Then let him have it.
     With sudden fury Estragon starts kicking Lucky, hurling abuse at him as
he  does  so.  But he hurts  his foot and moves  away, limping and groaning.
Lucky stirs.
     ESTRAGON:
     Oh the brute!
     He  sits down on the mound and tries to take off his boot.  But he soon
desists and disposes himself  for sleep, his arms on his  knees and his head
on his arms.
     POZZO:
     What's gone wrong now?
     VLADIMIR:
     My friend has hurt himself.
     POZZO:
     And Lucky?
     VLADIMIR:
     So it is he?
     POZZO:
     What?
     VLADIMIR:
     It is Lucky?
     POZZO:
     I don't understand.
     VLADIMIR:
     And you are Pozzo?
     POZZO:
     Certainly I am Pozzo.
     VLADIMIR:
     The same as yesterday?
     POZZO:
     Yesterday?
     VLADIMIR:
     We met yesterday. (Silence.) Do you not remember?
     POZZO:
     I  don't remember having met  anyone yesterday.  But  tomorrow  I won't
remember having met anyone today. So don't count on me to enlighten you.
     VLADIMIR:
     But--
     POZZO:
     Enough! Up pig!
     VLADIMIR:
     You  were bringing him to  the fair to sell him.  You spoke  to us.  He
danced. He thought. You had your sight.
     POZZO:
     As you please. Let me go! (Vladimir moves away.) Up!
     Lucky gets up, gathers up his burdens.
     VLADIMIR:
     Where do you go from here?
     POZZO:
     On.  (Lucky, laden down,  takes his  place  before Pozzo.) Whip! (Lucky
puts everything down, looks  for whip, finds  it, puts it into Pozzo's hand,
takes up everything again.) Rope!
     Lucky puts everything down, puts  end of rope into Pozzo's hand,  takes
up everything again.
     VLADIMIR:
     What is there in the bag?
     POZZO:
     Sand. (He jerks the rope.) On!
     VLADIMIR:
     Don't go yet.
     POZZO:
     I'm going.
     VLADIMIR:
     What do you do when you fall far from help?
     POZZO:
     We wait till we can get up. Then we go on. On!
     VLADIMIR:
     Before you go tell him to sing.
     POZZO:
     Who?
     VLADIMIR:
     Lucky.
     POZZO:
     To sing?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes. Or to think. Or to recite.
     POZZO:
     But he is dumb.
     VLADIMIR:
     Dumb!
     POZZO:
     Dumb. He can't even groan.
     VLADIMIR:
     Dumb! Since when?
     POZZO:
     (suddenly furious.) Have you not done tormenting me  with your accursed
time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is  that not enough for you, one
day he went  dumb, one day  I went blind, one day we'll go  deaf, one day we
were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same  second, is that not
enough  for  you?  (Calmer.) They give birth astride of  a  grave, the light
gleams an instant, then it's night once more. (He jerks the rope.) On!
     Exeunt Pozzo and Lucky. Vladimir follows them to the edge of the stage,
looks after  them.  The noise  of  falling, reinforced by mimic of Vladimir,
announces that they are down again. Silence. Vladimir goes towards Estragon,
contemplates him a moment, then shakes him awake.
     ESTRAGON:
     (wild gestures, incoherent  words. Finally.) Why will  you never let me
sleep?
     VLADIMIR:
     I felt lonely.
     ESTRAGON:
     I was dreaming I was happy.
     VLADIMIR:
     That passed the time.
     ESTRAGON:
     I was dreaming that--
     VLADIMIR:
     (violently). Don't tell me! (Silence.) I wonder is he really blind.
     ESTRAGON:
     Blind? Who?
     VLADIMIR:
     Pozzo.
     ESTRAGON:
     Blind?
     VLADIMIR:
     He told us he was blind.
     ESTRAGON:
     Well what about it?
     VLADIMIR:
     It seemed to me he saw us.
     ESTRAGON:
     You dreamt  it. (Pause.) Let's go.  We can't. Ah! (Pause.) Are you sure
it wasn't him?
     VLADIMIR:
     Who?
     ESTRAGON:
     Godot.
     VLADIMIR:
     But who?
     ESTRAGON:
     Pozzo.
     VLADIMIR:
     Not at all! (Less sure.) Not at all! (Still less sure.) Not at all!
     ESTRAGON:
     I suppose I might as well get up. (He gets up painfully.) Ow! Didi!
     VLADIMIR:
     I don't know what to think any more.
     ESTRAGON:
     My feet! (He sits down again and tries to take off his boots.) Help me!
     VLADIMIR:
     Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow,
when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of today? That with Estragon my
friend,  at this place, until  the  fall of night, I waited  for Godot? That
Pozzo  passed,  with his carrier, and that he spoke  to us? Probably. But in
all that what truth will there be?
     (Estragon,  having  struggled with his  boots  in vain,  is dozing  off
again.  Vladimir looks at him.)  He'll know nothing. He'll tell me about the
blows  he received and I'll give him  a carrot. (Pause.) Astride  of a grave
and a difficult birth. Down in  the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts
on the forceps. We have time  to grow old. The air is full of our cries. (He
listens.) But habit is a great deadener. (He looks again at Estragon.) At me
too someone  is looking, of  me too someone  is  saying, He is  sleeping, he
knows nothing, let him sleep on. (Pause.) I can't go on!  (Pause.) What have
I said?
     He goes feverishly  to and  fro, halts finally at extreme left, broods.
Enter Boy right. He halts. Silence.
     BOY:
     Mister . . . (Vladimir turns.) Mister Albert . . .
     VLADIMIR:
     Off we go again. (Pause.) Do you not recognize me?
     BOY:
     No Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     It wasn't you came yesterday.
     BOY:
     No Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     This is your first time.
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     You have a message from Mr. Godot.
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     He won't come this evening.
     BOY:
     No Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     But he'll come tomorrow.
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Without fail.
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Did you meet anyone?
     BOY:
     No Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Two other . . . (he hesitates) . . . men?
     BOY:
     I didn't see anyone, Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     What does he do, Mr. Godot? (Silence.) Do you hear me? #
     

     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Well?
     BOY:
     He does nothing, Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     How is your brother?
     BOY:
     He's sick, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Perhaps it was he came yesterday.
     BOY:
     I don't know, Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     (softly). Has he a beard, Mr. Godot?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     Fair or . . . (he hesitates) . . . or black?
     BOY:
     I think it's white, Sir.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Christ have mercy on us!
     Silence.
     BOY:
     What am I to tell Mr. Godot, Sir?
     VLADIMIR:
     Tell him . . . (he hesitates) . . . tell him you saw me and that  . . .
(he  hesitates) . . .  that  you saw me. (Pause.  Vladimir advances, the Boy
recoils.  Vladimir halts,  the Boy halts. With sudden violence.) You're sure
you saw me, you won't come and tell me tomorrow that you never saw me!
     Silence. Vladimir makes a sudden spring forward, the Boy avoids him and
exits running. Silence.  The sun sets, the moon rises. As in Act 1. Vladimir
stands motionless and bowed.  Estragon  wakes, takes off his  boots, gets up
with one in each  hand and goes  and puts them  down center front, then goes
towards Vladimir.
     ESTRAGON:
     What's wrong with you?
     VLADIMIR:
     Nothing.
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm going.
     VLADIMIR:
     So am I.
     ESTRAGON:
     Was I long asleep?
     VLADIMIR:
     I don't know.
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     Where shall we go?
     VLADIMIR:
     Not far.
     ESTRAGON:
     Oh yes, let's go far away from here.
     VLADIMIR:
     We can't.
     ESTRAGON:
     Why not?
     VLADIMIR:
     We have to come back tomorrow.
     ESTRAGON:
     What for?
     VLADIMIR:
     To wait for Godot.
     ESTRAGON:
     Ah! (Silence.) He didn't come?
     VLADIMIR:
     No.
     ESTRAGON:
     And now it's too late.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes, now it's night.
     ESTRAGON:
     And if we dropped him? (Pause.) If we dropped him?
     VLADIMIR:
     He'd punish us. (Silence. He looks  at the tree.) Everything's dead but
the tree.
     ESTRAGON:
     (looking at the tree). What is it?
     VLADIMIR:
     It's the tree.
     ESTRAGON:
     Yes, but what kind?
     VLADIMIR:
     I don't know. A willow.
     Estragon draws Vladimir towards the  tree. They stand motionless before
it. Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     Why don't we hang ourselves?
     VLADIMIR:
     With what?
     ESTRAGON:
     You haven't got a bit of rope?
     VLADIMIR:
     No.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then we can't.
     Silence.
     VLADIMIR:
     Let's go.
     ESTRAGON:
     Wait, there's my belt.
     VLADIMIR:
     It's too short.
     ESTRAGON:
     You could hang onto my legs.
     VLADIMIR:
     And who'd hang onto mine?
     ESTRAGON:
     True.
     VLADIMIR:
     Show  me all  the same. (Estragon  loosens  the cord that holds  up his
trousers  which, much too  big for him, fall about  his ankles. They look at
the cord.) It might do in a pinch. But is it strong enough?
     ESTRAGON:
     We'll soon see. Here.
     They each take an end of the cord and pull. #
     

     It breaks. They almost fall.
     VLADIMIR:
     Not worth a curse.
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     You say we have to come back tomorrow?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes.
     ESTRAGON:
     Then we can bring a good bit of rope.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes.
     Silence.
     ESTRAGON:
     Didi?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes.
     ESTRAGON:
     I can't go on like this.
     VLADIMIR:
     That's what you think.
     ESTRAGON:
     If we parted? That might be better for us.
     VLADIMIR:
     We'll hang ourselves tomorrow. (Pause.) Unless Godot comes.
     ESTRAGON:
     And if he comes?
     VLADIMIR:
     We'll be saved.
     Vladimir  takes off his  hat (Lucky's), peers  inside  it,  feels about
inside it, shakes it, knocks on the crown, puts it on again.
     ESTRAGON:
     Well? Shall we go?
     VLADIMIR:
     Pull on your trousers.
     ESTRAGON:
     What?
     VLADIMIR:
     Pull on your trousers.
     ESTRAGON:
     You want me to pull off my trousers?
     VLADIMIR:
     Pull ON your trousers.
     ESTRAGON:
     (realizing his trousers are down). True.
     He pulls up his trousers.
     VLADIMIR:
     Well? Shall we go?
     ESTRAGON:
     Yes, let's go.
     They do not move.
     Curtain.

     Top Act 1

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: 36, Last-modified: Sun, 27 Nov 2005 06:19:13 GMT