Waiting for Godot

by Samuel Beckett

  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 cod 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. (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.1He 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 to-day.

  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 hal
f 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!