Waiting for Godot (5 page)

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!