What is it?
     VLADIMIR:
     He's about to speak.
     <i>Estragon goes  over beside Vladimir.  Motionless,  side by  side,  they
wait.</i>
     POZZO:
     Good.  Is  everybody  ready? Is everybody  looking at me? (<i>He looks  at
Lucky, jerks  the  rope. Lucky raises his  head.</i>) Will you look at  me, pig!
(<i>Lucky  looks  at him.</i>)  Good. (<i>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>) I  am ready.  Is
everybody  listening?  Is  everybody ready? (<i>He looks at them  all in  turn,
jerks the rope.</i>) Hog!  (<i>Lucky raises  his head.</i>) I don't  like talking in  a
vacuum. Good. Let me see.
     <i>He reflects.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     I'm going.
     POZZO:
     What was it exactly you wanted to know?
     VLADIMIR:
     Why he--
     POZZO:
     (<i>angrily</i>)<i>.</i> Don't interrupt me! (<i>Pause. Calmer.</i>) If we all speak at once
we'll never get anywhere. (<i>Pause.</i>) What was  I saying? (<i>Pause. Louder.</i>) What
was I saying?
     <i>Vladimir  mimics  one  carrying  a heavy burden.  Pozzo  looks at  him,
puzzled.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>forcibly</i>)<i>.</i> Bags. (<i>He  points at  Lucky.</i>)  Why?  Always hold. (<i>He sags,
panting.</i>) Never put down. (<i>He opens his hands, straightens up with  relief.</i>)
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? (<i>Pause.</i>) Gentlemen, the reason is this.
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>to Estragon</i>)<i>.</i> 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! (<i>All  three
look  at  Lucky.</i>)  Atlas,  son of Jupiter! (<i>Silence.</i>)  Well, that's  that, I
think. Anything else?
     <i>Vaporizer.</i>
     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.
     <i>Lucky weeps.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     He's crying!
     POZZO:
     Old dogs have more dignity. (<i>He proffers his handkerchief to Estragon.</i>)
Comfort him, since  you pity him. (<i>Estragon  hesitates.</i>)  Come on. (<i>Estragon
takes the handkerchief.</i>) Wipe away his tears, he'll feel less forsaken.
     <i>Estragon hesitates.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     Here, give it to me, I'll do it.
     <i>Estragon refuses to give the handkerchief.</i>
     <i>Childish gestures.</i>
     POZZO:
     Make haste, before  he  stops.  (<i>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.</i>) Hanky!
     <i>Lucky  puts down  bag and basket, picks up handkerchief and gives it to
Pozzo, goes back to his place, picks up bag and basket.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     Oh the swine! (<i>He pulls up the leg of his trousers.</i>) He's crippled me!
     POZZO:
     I told you he didn't like strangers.
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>to Estragon</i>)<i>.</i>  Show me. (<i>Estragon shows  his leg. To Pozzo,  angrily.</i>)
He's bleeding!
     POZZO:
     It's a good sign.
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>on one leg</i>)<i>.</i> I'll never walk again!
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>tenderly</i>)<i>.</i> I'll carry you. (<i>Pause.</i>) If necessary.
     POZZO:
     He's stopped crying. (<i>To Estragon.</i>)  You have  replaced him as it were.
(<i>Lyrically.</i>) 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.  (<i>He  laughs.</i>) Let us not then speak ill of our generation, it is not
any  unhappier than its  predecessors. (<i>Pause.</i>) Let us not speak  well of it
either. (<i>Pause.</i>) Let  us not speak of it at all. (<i>Pause. Judiciously.</i>) It is
true the population has increased.
     VLADIMIR:
     Try and walk.
     <i>Estragon  takes a  few limping steps, stops  before Lucky and spits  on
him, then goes and sits down on the mound.</i>
     POZZO:
     Guess  who taught me  all these beautiful things. (<i>Pause.  Pointing  to
Lucky.</i>) My Lucky!
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>looking at the sky.</i>) Will night never come?
     POZZO:
     But for him all my thoughts, all my feelings, would have been of common
things.  (<i>Pause.   With  extraordinary  vehemence.</i>)   Professional  worries!
(<i>Calmer.</i>)  Beauty,  grace,  truth of the first water,  I knew they  were all
beyond me. So I took a knook.
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>startled from his inspection of the sky</i>)<i>.</i> A knook?
     POZZO:
     That was nearly sixty years ago  .  . . (<i>he  consults  his watch</i>) . . .
yes,  nearly sixty. (<i>Drawing himself  up  proudly.</i>) You wouldn't think it to
look at me, would you? Compared to him I look like a young man, no? (<i>Pause.</i>)
Hat! (<i>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.</i>) Now look. (<i>Pozzo takes off his  hat.</i> [All four wear bowlers.] <i>He is
completely bald. He puts on his hat again.</i>) Did you see?
     VLADIMIR:
     And now you turn him away? Such an old and faithful servant!
     ESTRAGON:
     Swine!
     <i>Pozzo more and more agitated.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     After having sucked all the good out of him you chuck him away like a .
. . like a banana skin. Really . . .
     POZZO:
     (<i>groaning, clutching his head</i>)<i>.</i> I can't bear it . . . any longer  . . .
the way he goes on . . . you've no idea . . . it's terrible . . . he must go
. . .  (<i>he waves his arms</i>) . . . I'm going mad . . . (<i>he collapses, his head
in his hands</i>) . . . I can't bear it . . . any longer . . .
     <i>Silence. All look at Pozzo.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     He can't bear it.
     ESTRAGON:
     Any longer.
     VLADIMIR:
     He's going mad.
     ESTRAGON:
     It's terrible.
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>to  Lucky</i>)<i>.</i> How dare you! It's abominable! Such a good master! Crucify
him like that! After so many years! Really!
     POZZO:
     (<i>sobbing</i>)<i>.</i> He  used to  be  so  kind  . .  .  so  helpful  .  .  .  and
entertaining . . . my good angel . . . and now . . . he's killing me.
     ESTRAGON:
     ( <i>to Vladimir</i>)<i>.</i> 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:
     (<i>calmer</i>)<i>.</i> Gentlemen, I don't know what came over me. Forgive me. Forget
all I said. (<i>More and  more his old self.</i>) I don't remember  exactly what it
was,  but  you  may be  sure there  wasn't  a word of truth  in it. (<i>Drawing
himself up,  striking  his chest.</i>) Do I look like a  man that can be made to
suffer? Frankly? (<i>He rummages  in  his pockets.</i>)  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.
     <i>Laughs noisily.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll be back.
     <i>He hastens towards the wings.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     End of the corridor, on the left.
     VLADIMIR:
     Keep my seat.
     <i>Exit Vladimir.</i>
     POZZO:
     (<i>on the point of tears</i>)<i>.</i> I've lost my Kapp and Peterson!
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>convulsed with merriment</i>)<i>.</i> He'll be the death of me!
     POZZO:
     You didn't  see by  any chance-  (<i>He  misses  Vladimir.</i>) Oh! He's gone!
Without saying goodbye! How could he! He might have waited!
     ESTRAGON:
     He would have burst.
     POZZO:
     Oh! (<i>Pause.</i>) 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! (<i>Pozzo  gets  up and goes over beside  Estragon. Estragon points
off.</i>) Look!
     POZZO:
     (<i>having put on his glasses</i>)<i>.</i> Oh I say!
     ESTRAGON:
     It's all over.
     <i>Enter Vladimir, somber. He shoulders Lucky out of  his  way, kicks over
the stool, comes and goes agitatedly.</i>
     POZZO:
     He's not pleased.
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>to Vladimir</i>)<i>.</i> You missed a treat. Pity.
     <i>Vladimir halts, straightens the stool, comes and goes, calmer.</i>
     POZZO:
     He  subsides.  (<i>Looking  round.</i>)  Indeed  all  subsides. A  great  calm
descends. (<i>Raising his hand.</i>) Listen! Pan sleeps.
     VLADIMIR:
     Will night never come?
     <i>All three look at the sky.</i>
     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. (<i>He looks
at the stool.</i>) 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! (<i>Pause. Aside.</i>) 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. (<i>He sits down.</i>) Done it again!  (<i>Pause.</i>) Thank
you,  dear  fellow. (<i>He  consults  his watch.</i>) But I must really  be getting
along, if I am to observe my schedule.
     VLADIMIR:
     Time has stopped.
     POZZO:
     (<i>cuddling his watch to his ear</i>)<i>.</i>  Don't  you believe it, Sir, don't you
believe  it.  (<i>He puts his watch back in his pocket.</i>) Whatever you like, but
not that.
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>to Pozzo</i>)<i>.</i> Everything seems black to him today.
     POZZO:
     Except the firmament. (<i>He laughs, pleased with  this witticism.</i>)  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? (<i>Silence. Estragon is fiddling  with his
boot  again,  Vladimir with  his hat.</i>) I can't  refuse you.  (<i>Vaporizer.</i>)  A
little  attention,  if  you  please. (<i>Vladimir  and  Estragon continue their
fiddling,  Lucky is  half asleep. Pozzo cracks his whip feebly.</i>)  What's the
matter with  this whip?  (<i>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.</i>)  Worn out, this  whip. (<i>He
looks at Vladimir and Estragon.</i>) 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. (<i>He sits down. To Estragon.</i>) What is your name?
     ESTRAGON:
     Adam.
     POZZO:
     (<i>who  hasn't listened</i>)<i>.</i> Ah yes! The night. (<i>He raises his head.</i>) But be
a  little  more  attentive, for  pity's  sake,  otherwise  we'll  never  get
anywhere. (<i>He looks at the sky.</i>) Look! (<i>All look at the sky except Lucky who
is dozing off again. Pozzo jerks the rope.</i>)  Will you look  at the sky, pig!
(<i>Lucky looks at  the sky.</i>) Good,  that's enough.  (<i>They stop looking  at the
sky.</i>) What  is there  so extraordinary  about it? Qua  sky. It is  pale  and
luminous like any sky at  this hour of the day. (<i>Pause.</i>) In these latitudes.
(<i>Pause.</i>) When the weather is fine. (<i>Lyrical.</i>)  An hour ago (<i>he looks at  his
watch,  prosaic</i>) roughly (<i>lyrical</i>) after having poured forth even  since (<i>he
hesitates,  prosaic</i>) say  ten o'clock  in  the morning (<i>lyrical</i>)  tirelessly
torrents of red and  white light it begins to lose  its effulgence, to  grow
pale (<i>gesture of the two hands lapsing by stages</i>) pale, ever a little paler,
a little paler until  (<i>dramatic pause, ample gesture of the two hands  flung
wide  apart</i>)  pppfff!  finished!  it  comes to  rest. But- (<i>hand  raised  in
admonition</i>)- but behind this veil of gentleness and peace, night is charging
(<i>vibrantly</i>) and will burst upon us (<i>snaps his fingers</i>) pop!  like that! (<i>his
inspiration leaves him</i>) just when  we least expect it. (<i>Silence.  Gloomily.</i>)
That's how it is on this bitch of an earth.
     <i>Long silence.</i>
     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.
     <i>He picks up his hat, peers inside it, shakes it, puts it on.</i>
     POZZO:
     How did you find me? (<i>Vladimir and Estragon look at him blankly.</i>) Good?
Fair? Middling? Poor? Positively bad?
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>first to understand</i>)<i>.</i> Oh very good, very very good.
     POZZO:
     (<i>to Estragon</i>)<i>.</i> And you, Sir?
     ESTRAGON:
     Oh tray bong, tray tray tray bong.
     POZZO:
     (<i>fervently</i>)<i>.</i> Bless you, gentlemen, bless you! (<i>Pause.</i>) I have such need
of  encouragement! (<i>Pause.</i>) 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.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     In the meantime, nothing happens.
     POZZO:
     You find it tedious?
     ESTRAGON:
     Somewhat.
     POZZO:
     (<i>to Vladimir</i>)<i>.</i> And you, Sir?
     VLADIMIR:
     I've been better entertained.
     <i>Silence. Pozzo struggles inwardly.</i>
     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:
     (<i>to Estragon, indignantly</i>)<i>.</i> 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. (<i>He  jerks the rope. Lucky looks  at him.</i>) For I
shall  suffer,  no  doubt about that. (<i>He picks  up  the whip.</i>) 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 . . . (<i>he shudders</i>)<i>.</i> 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:
     (<i>to Pozzo</i>)<i>.</i> Would that be possible?
     POZZO:
     By all means, nothing simpler. It's the natural order.
     <i>He laughs briefly.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     Then let him dance.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     POZZO:
     Do you hear, hog?
     ESTRAGON:
     He never refuses?
     POZZO:
     He refused once. (<i>Silence.</i>) Dance, misery!
     <i>Lucky puts down bag and basket, advances towards front, turns to Pozzo.
Lucky dances. He stops.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     Is that all?
     POZZO:
     Encore!
     <i>Lucky executes the same movements, stops.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     Pooh! I'd do as well myself. (<i>He imitates  Lucky, almost falls.</i>) 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:
     (<i>squirming like an aesthete</i>)<i>.</i> There's something about it . . .
     <i>Lucky makes to return to his burdens.</i>
     POZZO:
     Woaa!
     <i>Lucky stiffens.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     Tell us about the time he refused.
     POZZO:
     With  pleasure, with pleasure. (<i>He  fumbles in his pockets.</i>)  Wait. (<i>He
fumbles.</i>) What have I done with my spray? (<i>He  fumbles.</i>) Well now isn't that
. . . (<i>He looks up, consternation on his features. Faintly.</i>) I can't find my
pulverizer!
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>faintly</i>)<i>.</i> My left lung is  very  weak!  (<i>He  coughs feebly. In ringing
tones.</i>) But my right lung is as sound as a bell!
     POZZO:
     (<i>normal voice</i>)<i>.</i>  No  matter!  What  was  I saying.  (<i>He ponders.</i>) Wait.
(<i>Ponders.</i>) Well now isn't that . . . (<i>He raises his head.</i>) Help me!
     ESTRAGON:
     Wait!
     VLADIMIR:
     Wait!
     POZZO:
     Wait!
     <i>All  three  take  off their hats simultaneously, press  their hands  to
their foreheads, concentrate.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>triumphantly</i>)<i>.</i> Ah!
     VLADIMIR:
     He has it.
     POZZO:
     (<i>impatient</i>)<i>.</i> 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:
     (<i>glance at Lucky</i>)<i>.</i> 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!
     <i>Silence. They put on their hats.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes, it's awful!
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>to Pozzo</i>)<i>.</i> Tell him to think.
     POZZO:
     Give him his hat.
     VLADIMIR:
     His hat?
     POZZO:
     He can't think without his hat.
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>to Estragon</i>)<i>.</i> Give him his hat.
     ESTRAGON:
     Me! After what he did to me! Never!
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll give it to him.
     <i>He does not move.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>to Pozzo</i>)<i>.</i> Tell him to go and fetch it.
     POZZO:
     It's better to give it to him.
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll give it to him.
     <i>He picks up the hat and tenders it at arm's length  to Lucky,  who does
not move.</i>
     POZZO:
     You must put it on his head.
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>to Pozzo</i>)<i>.</i> Tell him to take it.
     POZZO:
     It's better to put it on his head.
     VLADIMIR:
     I'll put it on his head.
     <i>He goes round behind Lucky, approaches  him cautiously, puts the hat on
his head and recoils smartly. Lucky does not move. Silence.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     What's he waiting for?
     POZZO:
     Stand  back! (<i>Vladimir and Estragon move  away  from Lucky. Pozzo jerks
the rope. Lucky looks at Pozzo.</i>) Think, pig! (<i>Pause. Lucky begins to dance.</i>)
Stop! (<i>Lucky stops.</i>) Forward! (<i>Lucky advances.</i>) Stop! (<i>Lucky stops.</i>) Think!
     <i>Silence.</i>
     LUCKY:
     On the other hand with regard to--
     POZZO:
     Stop! (<i>Lucky stops.</i>)  Back! (<i>Lucky  moves back.</i>)  Stop!  (<i>Lucky stops.</i>)
Turn! (<i>Lucky turns towards auditorium.</i>) Think!
     <i>During Lucky's tirade the others react as follows.</i>
     <i>1) Vladimir and Estragon all attention, Pozzo dejected and disgusted.</i>
     <i>2) Vladimir and Estragon begin to protest, Pozzo's sufferings increase.</i>
     <i>3) Vladimir and Estragon attentive again, Pozzo more  and more agitated
and groaning.</i>
     <i>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.</i>
     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 (<i>mêlée, final vociferations</i>)
     #
     <img width="1382" height="796" src="godo_engl-7.jpg">

     .  .  .  tennis  .  . . the stones . . . so  calm  . . . Cunard  .  . .
unfinished . . .
     POZZO:
     His hat!
     <i>Vladimir  seizes Lucky's  hat. Silence of  Lucky.  He  falls.  Silence.
Panting of the victors.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     Avenged!
     <i>Vladimir examines the hat, peers inside it.</i>
     POZZO:
     Give  me that! (<i>He  snatches  the hat from  Vladimir, throws it on  the
ground, tramples on it.</i>) There's an end to his thinking!
     VLADIMIR:
     But will he be able to walk?
     POZZO:
     Walk or crawl! (<i>He kicks Lucky.</i>) Up pig!
     ESTRAGON:
     Perhaps he's dead.
     VLADIMIR:
     You'll kill him.
     POZZO:
     Up scum! (<i>He jerks the rope.</i>) Help me!
     VLADIMIR:
     How?
     POZZO:
     Raise him up!
     <i>Vladimir and Estragon hoist Lucky to his feet, support him  an instant,
then let him go. He falls.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     He's doing it on purpose!
     POZZO:
     You must hold him. (<i>Pause.</i>) Come on, come on, raise him up.
     ESTRAGON:
     To hell with him!
     VLADIMIR:
     Come on, once more.
     ESTRAGON:
     What does he take us for?
     <i>They raise Lucky, hold him up.</i>
     POZZO:
     Don't  let him go! (<i>Vladimir  and Estragon totter.</i>) Don't  move! (<i>Pozzo
fetches  bag and basket and brings them towards Lucky.</i>)  Hold him tight! (<i>He
puts the bag in Lucky's hand. Lucky drops it immediately.</i>) Don't let him go!
(<i>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.</i>)
Hold him tight! (<i>As before with basket.</i>) #
     <img width="212" height="167" src="godo_engl-8.png">

     Now!  You can  let him  go. (<i>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.</i>)  Forward! (<i>Lucky
totters forward.</i>) Back!  (<i>Lucky totters back.</i>) Turn! (<i>Lucky turns.</i>) Done it!
He can  walk. (<i>Turning to Vladimir and  Estragon.</i>) Thank you, gentlemen, and
let me  .  .  . (<i>he fumbles in  his  pockets</i>) . .  .  let me wish you .  . .
(<i>fumbles</i>) . .  . wish  you  . . . (<i>fumbles</i>) . .  . what have I done with  my
watch?  (<i>Fumbles.</i>)  A   genuine   half-hunter,   gentlemen,  with   deadbeat
escapement! (<i>Sobbing.</i>) Twas my  granpa gave it  to me! (<i>He  searches on  the
ground, Vladimir and Estragon likewise. Pozzo turns over  with his  foot the
remains of Lucky's hat.</i>) Well now isn't that just--
     VLADIMIR:
     Perhaps it's in your fob.
     POZZO:
     Wait!  (<i>He doubles up in  an attempt to apply  his ear  to his stomach,
listens.  Silence.</i>)  I hear nothing. (<i>He beckons them to  approach, Vladimir
and Estragon go over to him, bend over his stomach.</i>) Surely one should  hear
the tick-tick.
     VLADIMIR:
     Silence!
     <i>All listen, bent double.</i> #
     <img width="128" height="169" src="godo_engl-9.jpg">

     ESTRAGON:
     I hear something.
     POZZO:
     Where?
     VLADIMIR:
     It's the heart.
     POZZO:
     (<i>disappointed</i>)<i>.</i> Damnation!
     VLADIMIR:
     Silence!
     ESTRAGON:
     Perhaps it has stopped.
     <i>They straighten up.</i>
     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.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     Then adieu.
     POZZO:
     Adieu.
     VLADIMIR:
     Adieu.
     POZZO:
     Adieu.
     <i>Silence. No one moves.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     Adieu.
     POZZO:
     Adieu.
     ESTRAGON:
     Adieu.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     POZZO:
     And thank you.
     VLADIMIR:
     Thank <i>you</i>.
     POZZO:
     Not at all.
     ESTRAGON:
     Yes yes.
     POZZO:
     No no.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes yes.
     ESTRAGON:
     No no.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     POZZO:
     I don't seem to be able . . . (<i>long hesitation</i>) . . . to depart.
     ESTRAGON:
     Such is life.
     <i>Pozzo turns, moves away from Lucky towards the  wings,  paying  out the
rope as he goes.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     You're going the wrong way.
     POZZO:
     I  need a running start. (<i>Having come to the end of the rope, i.e., off
stage, he  stops, turns and cries.</i>) Stand back! (<i>Vladimir and Estragon stand
back, look towards Pozzo. Crack of whip.</i>) On! On!
     ESTRAGON:
     On!
     VLADIMIR:
     On!
     <i>Lucky moves off.</i>
     POZZO:
     Faster! (<i>He appears, crosses the  stage preceded by Lucky. Vladimir and
Estragon wave their hats. Exit Lucky.</i>) On! On! (<i>On the point of disappearing
in  his turn he stops and turns. The  rope  tautens. Noise  of Lucky falling
off.</i>) Stool! (<i>Vladimir fetches stool and gives it  to Pozzo who throws it to
Lucky.</i>) Adieu!
     VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
     (<i>waving</i>)<i>.</i> Adieu! Adieu!
     POZZO:
     Up!  Pig! (<i>Noise of  Lucky getting up.</i>)  On! (<i>Exit Pozzo.</i>) Faster!  On!
Adieu! Pig! Yip! Adieu!
     <i>Long silence.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     That passed the time.
     ESTRAGON:
     It would have passed in any case.
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes, but not so rapidly.
     <i>Pause.</i>
     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:
     (<i>despairingly</i>)<i>.</i> Ah!
     <i>Pause.</i>
     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. (<i>Pause. To himself.</i>)
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! (<i>Vladimir does not react.</i>) Ow!
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>to himself</i>)<i>.</i> Unless they're not the same . . .
     ESTRAGON:
     Didi! It's the other foot!
     <i>He goes hobbling towards the mound.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     Unless they're not the same . . .
     BOY:
     (<i>off</i>)<i>.</i> Mister!
     <i>Estragon halts. Both look towards the voice.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     Off we go again.
     VLADIMIR:
     Approach, my child.
     <i>Enter Boy, timidly. He halts.</i>
     BOY:
     Mister Albert . . . ?
     VLADIMIR:
     Yes.
     ESTRAGON:
     What do you want?
     VLADIMIR:
     Approach!
     <i>The Boy does not move.</i>
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>forcibly</i>)<i>.</i> Approach when you're told, can't you?
     <i>The Boy advances timidly, halts.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     What is it?
     BOY:
     Mr. Godot . . .
     VLADIMIR:
     Obviously . . . (<i>Pause.</i>) Approach.
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>violently</i>)<i>.</i> Will you approach! (<i>The  Boy advances  timidly.</i>) 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?
     <i>The Boy looks at them in turn, not knowing to which he should reply.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     (<i>to Estragon</i>)<i>.</i> Let him alone.
     ESTRAGON:
     (<i>violently</i>)<i>.</i>  You let me alone. (<i>Advancing,  to the  Boy.</i>) Do  you know
what time it is?
     BOY:
     (<i>recoiling</i>)<i>.</i> It's not my fault, Sir.
     ESTRAGON:
     And whose is it? Mine?
     BOY:
     I was afraid, Sir.
     ESTRAGON:
     Afraid of what? Of us? (<i>Pause.</i>) 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? (<i>Silence.</i>) Do you  belong  to these
parts?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     ESTRAGON:
     That's all a pack of  lies. (<i>Shaking the Boy  by the  arm.</i>) Tell us the
truth!
     BOY:
     (<i>trembling</i>)<i>.</i> But it is the truth, Sir!
     VLADIMIR:
     Will you let him alone! What's the matter with you? #
     <img width="975" height="700" src="godo_engl-10.jpg">

     (<i>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.</i>) 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! (<i>Estragon tries to  speak,
renounces, limps to  his place, sits down and begins to take  off his boots.
To Boy.</i>) 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.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     Words words. (<i>Pause.</i>) Speak.
     BOY:
     (<i>in a  rush</i>)<i>.</i> Mr. Godot told  me to tell you he won't come this evening
but surely tomorrow.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     Is that all?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     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.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     Does he  give you  enough to eat? (<i>The Boy hesitates.</i>) Does he feed you
well?
     BOY:
     Fairly well, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     You're not unhappy? (<i>The Boy hesitates.</i>) 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. (<i>Silence.</i>) Where do you sleep?
     BOY:
     In the loft, Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     With your brother?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     VLADIMIR:
     In the hay?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     All right, you may go.
     BOY:
     What am I to tell Mr. Godot, Sir?
     VLADIMIR:
     Tell him  . . . (<i>he hesitates</i>)  . . . tell him you saw us. (<i>Pause.</i>) You
did see us, didn't you?
     BOY:
     Yes Sir.
     <i>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.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     At last! (<i>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.</i>) #
     <img width="222" height="163" src="godo_engl-11.jpg">

     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:
     (<i>turning to look  at  the  boots</i>)<i>.</i> I'm  leaving  them  there.  (<i>Pause.</i>)
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.
     <i>Silence.</i>
     VLADIMIR:
     We've nothing