CLOV: Light black. From pole to pole.
HAMM: You exaggerate. [Pause.] Don’t stay there, you give me the shivers.
[CLOV returns to his place beside the chair.]
CLOV: Why this farce, day after day?
HAMM: Routine. One never knows. [Pause.] Last night I saw inside my breast. There was a big sore.
CLOV: Pah! You saw your heart.
HAMM: No, it was living. [Pause. Anguished.] Clov!
CLOV: Yes.
HAMM: What’s happening?
CLOV: Something is taking its course.
[Pause.]
HAMM: Clov!
CLOV: [Impatiently.] What is it?
HAMM: We’re not beginning to … to … mean something?
CLOV: Mean something! You and I, mean something! [Brief laugh.] Ah that’s a good one!
HAMM: I wonder. [Pause.] Imagine if a rational being came back to earth, wouldn’t he be liable to get ideas into his head if he observed us long enough. [Voice of rational being.] Ah, good, now I see what it is, yes, now I understand what they’re at! [CLOV starts, drops the telescope and begins to scratch his belly with both hands. Normal voice.] And without going so far as that, we ourselves … [with emotion] … we ourselves … at certain moments … [Vehemently.] To think perhaps it won’t all have been for nothing!
CLOV: [Anguished, scratching himself.] I have a flea!
HAMM: A flea! Are there still fleas?
CLOV: On me there’s one. [Scratching.] Unless it’s a crablouse.
HAMM: [Very perturbed.] But humanity might start from there all over again! Catch him, for the love of God!
CLOV: I’ll go and get the powder.
[Exit CLOV.]
HAMM: A flea! This is awful! What a day!
[Enter CLOV with a sprinkling-tin.]
CLOV: I’m back again, with the insecticide.
HAMM: Let him have it!
[CLOV loosens the top of his trousers, pulls it forward and shakes powder into the aperture. He stoops, looks, waits, starts, frenziedly shakes more powder, stoops, looks, waits.]
CLOV: The bastard!
HAMM: Did you get him?
CLOV: Looks like it. [He drops the tin and adjusts his trousers.] Unless he’s laying doggo.
HAMM: Laying! Lying you mean. Unless he’s lying doggo.
CLOV: Ah? One says lying? One doesn’t say laying?
HAMM: Use your head, can’t you. If he was laying we’d be bitched.
CLOV: Ah. [Pause.] What about that pee?
HAMM: I’m having it.
CLOV: Ah that’s the spirit, that’s the spirit!
[Pause.]
HAMM: [With ardour.] Let’s go from here, the two of us! South! You can make a raft and the currents will carry us away, far away, to other … mammals!
CLOV: God forbid!
HAMM: Alone, I’ll embark alone! Get working on that raft immediately. Tomorrow I’ll be gone for ever.
CLOV: [Hastening towards door.] I’ll start straight away.
HAMM: Wait! [CLOV halts.] Will there be sharks, do you think?
CLOV: Sharks? I don’t know. If there are there will be.
[He goes towards door.]
HAMM: Wait! [CLOV halts.] Is it not yet time for my pain-killer?
CLOV: [Violently.] No!
[He goes towards door.]
HAMM: Wait! [CLOV halts.] How are your eyes?
CLOV: Bad.
HAMM: But you can see.
CLOV: All I want.
HAMM: How are your legs?
CLOV: Bad.
HAMM: But you can walk.
CLOV: I come … and go.
HAMM: In my house. [Pause. With prophetic relish.] One day you’ll be blind, like me. You’ll be sitting there, a speck in the void, in the dark, for ever, like me. [Pause.] One day you’ll say to yourself, I’m tired, I’ll sit down, and you’ll go and sit down. Then you’ll say, I’m hungry, I’ll get up and get something to eat. But you won’t get up. You’ll say, I shouldn’t have sat down, but since I have I’ll sit on a little longer, then I’ll get up and get something to eat. But you won’t get up and you won’t get anything to eat. [Pause.] You’ll look at the wall a while, then you’ll say, I’ll close my eyes, perhaps have a little sleep, after that I’ll feel better, and you’ll close them. And when you open them again there’ll be no wall any more. [Pause.] Infinite emptiness will be all around you, all the resurrected dead of all the ages wouldn’t fill it, and there you’ll be like a little bit of grit in the middle of the steppe. [Pause.] Yes, one day you’ll know what it is, you’ll be like me, except that you won’t have anyone with you, because you won’t have had pity on anyone and because there won’t be anyone left to have pity on.
[Pause.]
CLOV: It’s not certain. [Pause.] And there’s one thing you forget.
HAMM: Ah?
CLOV: I can’t sit down.
HAMM: [Impatiently.] Well, you’ll lie down then, what the hell! Or you’ll come to a standstill, simply stop and stand still, the way you are now. One day you’ll say, I’m tired, I’ll stop. What does the attitude matter?
[Pause.]
CLOV: So you all want me to leave you.
HAMM: Naturally.
CLOV: Then I’ll leave you.
HAMM: You can’t leave us.
CLOV: Then I shan’t leave you.
[Pause.]
HAMM: Why don’t you finish us? [Pause.] I’ll tell you the combination of the larder if you promise to finish me.
CLOV: I couldn’t finish you.
HAMM: Then you shan’t finish me.
[Pause.]
CLOV: I’ll leave you, I have things to do.
HAMM: Do you remember when you came here?
CLOV: No. Too small, you told me.
HAMM: Do you remember your father?
CLOV: [Wearily.] Same answer. [Pause.] You’ve asked me these questions millions of times.
HAMM: I love the old questions. [With fervour.] Ah the old questions, the old answers, there’s nothing like them! [Pause.] It was I was a father to you.
CLOV: Yes. [He looks at HAMM fixedly.] You were that to me.
HAMM: My house a home for you.
CLOV: Yes. [He looks about him.] This was that for me.
HAMM: [Proudly.] But for me [gesture towards himself] no father. But for Hamm [gesture towards surroundings] no home.
[Pause.]
CLOV: I’ll leave you.
HAMM: Did you ever think of one thing?
CLOV: Never.
HAMM: That here we’re down in a hole. [Pause.] But beyond the hills? Eh? Perhaps it’s still green. Eh? [Pause.] Flora! Pomona! [Ecstatically.] Ceres! [Pause.] Perhaps you won’t need to go very far.
CLOV: I can’t go very far. [Pause.] I’ll leave you.
HAMM: Is my dog ready?
CLOV: He lacks a leg.
HAMM: Is he silky?
CLOV: He’s a kind of Pomeranian.
HAMM: Go and get him.
CLOV: He lacks a leg.
HAMM: Go and get him! [Exit CLOV.] We’re getting on.
[Enter CLOV holding by one of its three legs a black toy dog.]
CLOV: Your dogs are here.
[He hands the dog to HAMM who feels it, fondles it.]
HAMM: He’s white, isn’t he?
CLOV: Nearly.
HAMM: What do you mean, nearly? Is he white or isn’t he?
CLOV: He isn’t.
[Pause.]
HAMM: You’ve forgotten the sex.
CLOV: [Vexed.] But he isn’t finished. The sex goes on at the end.
[Pause.]
HAMM: You haven’t put on his ribbon.
CLOV: [Angrily.] But he isn’t finished, I tell you! First you finish your dog and then you put on his ribbon!
[Pause.]
HAMM: Can he stand?
CLOV: I don’t know.
HAMM: Try. [He hands the dog to CLOV who places it on the ground.] Well?
CLOV: Wait!
[He squat
s down and tries to get the dog to stand on its three legs, fails, lets it go. The dog falls on its side.]
HAMM: [Impatiently.] Well?
CLOV: He’s standing.
HAMM: [Groping for the dog.] Where? Where is he?
[CLOV holds up the dog in a standing position.]
CLOV: There.
[He takes HAMM’s hand and guides it towards the dog’s head.]
HAMM: [His hand on the dog’s head.] Is he gazing at me?
CLOV: Yes.
HAMM: [Proudly.] As if he were asking me to take him for a walk?
CLOV: If you like.
HAMM: [As before.] Or as if he were begging me for a bone. [He withdraws his hand.] Leave him like that, standing there imploring me.
[CLOV straightens up. The dog falls on its side.]
CLOV: I’ll leave you.
HAMM: Have you had your visions?
CLOV: Less.
HAMM: Is Mother Pegg’s light on?
CLOV: Light! How could anyone’s light be on?
HAMM: Extinguished!
CLOV: Naturally it’s extinguished. If it’s not on it’s extinguished.
HAMM: No, I mean Mother Pegg.
CLOV: But naturally she’s extinguished! [Pause.] What’s the matter with you today?
HAMM: I’m taking my course. [Pause.] Is she buried?
CLOV: Buried! Who would have buried her?
HAMM: You.
CLOV: Me! Haven’t I enough to do without burying people?
HAMM: But you’ll bury me.
CLOV: No I shan’t bury you.
[Pause.]
HAMM: She was bonny once, like a flower of the field. [With reminiscent leer.] And a great one for the men!
CLOV: We too were bonny – once. It’s a rare thing not to have been bonny – once.
[Pause.]
HAMM: Go and get the gaff.
[CLOV goes to door, halts.]
CLOV: Do this, do that, and I do it. I never refuse. Why?
HAMM: You’re not able to.
CLOV: Soon I won’t do it any more.
HAMM: You won’t be able to any more. [Exit CLOV.] Ah the creatures, the creatures, everything has to be explained to them.
[Enter CLOV with gaff.]
CLOV: Here’s your gaff. Stick it up.
[He gives the gaff to HAMM who, wielding it like a punt-pole, tries to move his chair.]
HAMM: Did I move?
CLOV: No.
[HAMM throws down the gaff.]
HAMM: Go and get the oilcan.
CLOV: What for?
HAMM: To oil the castors.
CLOV: I oiled them yesterday.
HAMM: Yesterday! What does that mean? Yesterday!
CLOV: [Violently.] That means that bloody awful day, long ago, before this bloody awful day. I use the words you taught me. If they don’t mean anything any more, teach me others. Or let me be silent.
[Pause.]
HAMM: I once knew a madman who thought the end of the world had come. He was a painter – and engraver. I had a great fondness for him. I used to go and see him, in the asylum. I’d take him by the hand and drag him to the window. Look! There! All that rising corn! And there! Look! The sails of the herring fleet! All that loveliness! [Pause.] He’d snatch away his hand and go back into his corner. Appalled. All he had seen was ashes. [Pause.] He alone had been spared. [Pause.] Forgotten. [Pause.] It appears the case is … was not so … so unusual.
CLOV: A madman? When was that?
HAMM: Oh way back, way back, you weren’t in the land of the living.
CLOV: God be with the days!
[Pause. HAMM raises his toque.]
HAMM: I had a great fondness for him. [Pause. He puts on his toque again.] He was a painter – and engraver.
CLOV: There are so many terrible things.
HAMM: No, no, there are not so many now. [Pause.] Clov!
CLOV: Yes.
HAMM: Do you not think this has gone on long enough?
CLOV: Yes! [Pause.] What?
HAMM: This … this … thing.
CLOV: I’ve always thought so. [Pause.] You not?
HAMM: [Gloomily.] Then it’s a day like any other day.
CLOV: As long as it lasts. [Pause.] All life long the same inanities.
[Pause.]
HAMM: I can’t leave you.
CLOV: I know. And you can’t follow me.
[Pause.]
HAMM: If you leave me how shall I know?
CLOV: [Briskly.] Well you simply whistle me and if I don’t come running it means I’ve left you.
[Pause.]
HAMM: You won’t come and kiss me good-bye?
CLOV: Oh I shouldn’t think so.
[Pause.]
HAMM: But you might be merely dead in your kitchen.
CLOV: The result would be the same.
HAMM: Yes, but how would I know, if you were merely dead in your kitchen?
CLOV: Well … sooner or later I’d start to stink.
HAMM: You stink already. The whole place stinks of corpses.
CLOV: The whole universe.
HAMM: [Angrily.] To hell with the universe! [Pause.] Think of something.
CLOV: What?
HAMM: An idea, have an idea. [Angrily.] A bright idea!
CLOV: Ah good. [He starts pacing to and fro, his eyes fixed on the ground, his hands behind his hack. He halts.] The pains in my legs! It’s unbelievable! Soon I won’t be able to think any more.
HAMM: You won’t be able to leave me. [CLOV resumes his pacing.] What are you doing?
CLOV: Having an idea. [He paces.] Ah!
[He halts.]
HAMM: What a brain! [Pause.] Well?
CLOV: Wait! [He meditates. Not very convinced.] Yes … [Pause. More convinced.] Yes! [He raises his head.] I have it! I set the alarm.
[Pause.]
HAMM: This is perhaps not one of my bright days, but frankly –
CLOV: You whistle me. I don’t come. The alarm rings. I’m gone. It doesn’t ring. I’m dead.
[Pause.]
HAMM: Is it working? [Pause. Impatiently.] The alarm, is it working?
CLOV: Why wouldn’t it be working?
HAMM: Because it’s worked too much.
CLOV: But it’s hardly worked at all.
HAMM: [Angrily] Then because it’s worked too little!
CLOV: I’ll go and see. [Exit CLOV. Brief ring of alarm off. Enter CLOV with alarm-clock. He holds it against HAMM’s ear and releases alarm. They listen to it ringing to the end. Pause.] Fit to wake the dead! Did you hear it?
HAMM: Vaguely.
CLOV: The end is terrific!
HAMM: I prefer the middle. [Pause.] Is it not time for my pain-killer?
CLOV: No! [He goes to the door, turns.] I’ll leave you.
HAMM: It’s time for my story. Do you want to listen to my story?
CLOV: No.
HAMM: Ask my father if he wants to listen to my story.
[CLOV goes to bins, raises the lid of NAGG’s, stoops, looks into it. Pause. He straightens up.]
CLOV: He’s asleep.
HAMM: Wake him.
[CLOV stoops, wakes NAGG with the alarm. Unintelligible words. CLOV straightens up.]
CLOV: He doesn’t want to listen to your story.
HAMM: I’ll give him a bon-bon.
[CLOV stoops. As before.]
CLOV: He wants a sugar-plum.
HAMM: He’ll get a sugar-plum.
[CLOV stoops. As before.]
CLOV: It’s a deal. [He goes towards door, NAGG’s hands appear, gripping the rim. Then the head emerges, CLOV reaches door, turns.] Do you believe in the life to come?
HAMM: Mine was always that. [Exit CLOV.] Got him that time!
NAGG: I’m listening.
HAMM: Scoundrel! Why did you engender me?
NAGG: I didn’t know.
HAMM: What? What didn’t you know?
NAGG: That it’d be you. [Pause.] You’ll give me a sugar-plum?
HAMM: A
fter the audition.
NAGG: You swear?
HAMM: Yes.
NAGG: On what?
HAMM: My honour.
[Pause. They laugh heartily.]
NAGG: Two.
HAMM: One.
NAGG: One for me and one for –
HAMM: One! Silence! [Pause.] Where was I? [Pause. Gloomily.] It’s finished, we’re finished. [Pause.] Nearly finished. [Pause.] There’ll be no more speech. [Pause.] Something dripping in my head, ever since the fontanelles. [Stifled hilarity of NAGG.] Splash, splash, always on the same spot. [Pause.] Perhaps it’s a little vein. [Pause.] A little artery. [Pause. More animated.] Enough of that, it’s story time, where was I? [Pause. Narrative tone.] The man came crawling towards me, on his belly. Pale, wonderfully pale and thin, he seemed on the point of – [Pause. Normal tone.] No, I’ve done that bit. [Pause. Narrative tone.] I calmly filled my pipe – the meerschaum, lit it with … let us say a vesta, drew a few puffs. Aah! [Pause.] Well, what is it you want? [Pause.] It was an extra-ordinarily bitter day, I remember, zero by the thermometer. But considering it was Christmas Eve there was nothing … extra-ordinary about that. Seasonable weather, for once in a way. [Pause.] Well, what ill wind blows you my way? He raised his face to me, black with mingled dirt and tears. [Pause. Normal tone.] That should do it. [Narrative tone.] No, no, don’t look at me, don’t look at me. He dropped his eyes and mumbled something, apologies I presume. [Pause.] I’m a busy man, you know, the final touches, before the festivities, you know what it is. [Pause. Forcibly.] Come on now, what is the object of this invasion? [Pause.] It was a glorious bright day, I remember, fifty by the heliometer, but already the sun was sinking down into the … down among the dead. [Normal tone.] Nicely put, that. [Narrative tone.] Come on now, come on, present your petition and let me resume my labours. [Pause. Normal tone.] There’s English for you. Ah well … [Narrative tone.] It was then he took the plunge. It’s my little one, he said. Tsstss, a little one, that’s bad. My little boy, he said, as if the sex mattered. Where did he come from? He named the hole. A good half-day, on horse. What are you insinuating? That the place is still inhabited? No no, not a soul, except himself and the child – assuming he existed. Good. I inquired about the situation at Kov, beyond the gulf. Not a sinner. Good. And you expect me to believe you have left your little one back there, all alone, and alive into the bargain? Come now! [Pause.] It was a howling wild day, I remember, a hundred by the anemometer. The wind was tearing up the dead pines and sweeping them … away. [Pause. Normal tone.] A bit feeble, that. [Narrative tone.] Come on, man, speak up, what is it you want from me, I have to put up my holly. [Pause.] Well to make it short it finally transpired that what he wanted from me was … bread for his brat. Bread? But I have no bread, it doesn’t agree with me. Good. Then perhaps a little corn? [Pause. Normal tone.] That should do it. [Narrative tone.] Corn, yes, I have corn, it’s true, in my granaries. But use your head. I give you some corn, a pound, a pound and a half, you bring it back to your child and you make him – if he’s still alive – a nice pot of porridge [NAGG reacts], a nice pot and a half of porridge, full of nourishment. Good. The colours come back into his little cheeks – perhaps. And then? [Pause.] I lost patience. [Violently.] Use your head, can’t you, use your head, you’re on earth, there’s no cure for that! [Pause.] It was an exceedingly dry day, I remember, zero by the hygrometer. Ideal weather, for my lumbago. [Pause. Violently.] But what in God’s name do you imagine? That the earth will awake in spring? That the rivers and seas will run with fish again? That there’s manna in heaven still for imbeciles like you? [Pause.] Gradually I cooled down, sufficiently at least to ask him how long he had taken on the way. Three whole days. Good. In what condition he had left the child. Deep in sleep. [Forcibly.] But deep in what sleep, deep in what sleep already? [Pause.] Well to make it short I finally offered to take him into my service. He had touched a chord. And then I imagined already that I wasn’t much longer for this world. [He laughs. Pause.] Well? [Pause.] Well? Here if you were careful you might die a nice natural death, in peace and comfort. [Pause.] Well? [Pause.] In the end he asked me would I consent to take in the child as well – if he were still alive. [Pause.] It was the moment I was waiting for. [Pause.] Would I consent to take in the child … [Pause.] I can see him still, down on his knees, his hands flat on the ground, glaring at me with his mad eyes, in defiance of my wishes. [Pause. Normal tone.] I’ll soon have finished with this story. [Pause.] Unless I bring in other characters. [Pause.] But where would I find them? [Pause.] Where would I look for them? [Pause. He whistles. Enter CLOV.] Let us pray to God.
The Complete Dramatic Works of Samuel Beckett Page 10
