Authors: Samuel Beckett
•
•
. . . 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: