ESTRAGON:
(giving up again). Nothing to be done.
VLADIMIR:
(advancing with short, stiff strides, legs wide apart). I’m beginning to come round to that opinion. All my life I’ve tried to put it from me, saying Vladimir, be reasonable, you haven’t yet tried everything. And I resumed the struggle. (He broods, musing on the struggle. Turning to Estragon.) So there you are again.
ESTRAGON:
Am I?
VLADIMIR:
I’m glad to see you back. I thought you were gone forever.
ESTRAGON:
Me too.
VLADIMIR:
Together again at last! We’ll have to celebrate this. But how? (He reflects.) Get up till I embrace you.
ESTRAGON:
(irritably). Not now, not now.
VLADIMIR:
(hurt, coldly). May one inquire where His Highness spent the night?
ESTRAGON:
In a ditch.
VLADIMIR:
(admiringly). A ditch! Where?
ESTRAGON:
(without gesture). Over there.
VLADIMIR:
And they didn’t beat you?
ESTRAGON:
Beat me? Certainly they beat me.
VLADIMIR:
The same lot as usual?
ESTRAGON:
The same? I don’t know.
VLADIMIR:
When I think of it . . . all these years . . . but for me . . . where would you be . . .(Decisively.) You’d be nothing more than a little heap of bones at the present minute, no doubt about it.
ESTRAGON:
And what of it?
VLADIMIR:
(gloomily). It’s too much for one man. (Pause. Cheerfully.) On the other hand what’s the good of losing heart now, that’s what I say. We should have thought of it a million years ago, in the nineties.
ESTRAGON:
Ah stop blathering and help me off with this bloody thing.
VLADIMIR:
Hand in hand from the top of the Eiffel Tower, among the first. We were respectable in those days. Now it’s too late. They wouldn’t even let us up. (Estragon tears at his boot.) What are you doing?
ESTRAGON:
Taking off my boot. Did that never happen to you?
VLADIMIR:
Boots must be taken off every day, I’m tired telling you that. Why don’t you listen to me?
ESTRAGON:
(feebly). Help me!
VLADIMIR:
It hurts?
ESTRAGON:
(angrily). Hurts! He wants to know if it hurts!
VLADIMIR:
(angrily). No one ever suffers but you. I don’t count. I’d like to hear what you’d say if you had what I have.
ESTRAGON:
It hurts?
VLADIMIR:
(angrily). Hurts! He wants to know if it hurts!
ESTRAGON:
(pointing). You might button it all the same.
VLADIMIR:
(stooping). True. (He buttons his fly.) Never neglect the little things of life.
ESTRAGON:
What do you expect, you always wait till the last moment.
VLADIMIR:
(musingly). The last moment . . . (He meditates.) Hope deferred maketh the something sick, who said that?
ESTRAGON:
Why don’t you help me?
VLADIMIR:
Sometimes I feel it coming all the same. Then I go all queer. (He takes off his hat, peers inside it, feels about inside it, shakes it, puts it on again.) How shall I say? Relieved and at the same time . . . (he searches for the word) . . . appalled. (With emphasis.) AP-PALLED.(He takes off his hat again, peers inside it.) Funny. (He knocks on the crown as though to dislodge a foreign body, peers into it again, puts it on again.) Nothing to be done. (Estragon with a supreme effort succeeds in pulling off his boot. He peers inside it, feels about inside it, turns it upside down, shakes it, looks on the ground to see if anything has fallen out, finds nothing, feels inside it again, staring sightlessly before him.) Well?
ESTRAGON:
Nothing.
VLADIMIR:
Show me.
ESTRAGON:
There’s nothing to show.
VLADIMIR:
Try and put it on again.
ESTRAGON:
(examining his foot). I’ll air it for a bit.
VLADIMIR:
There’s man all over for you, blaming on his boots the faults of his feet. (He takes off his hat again, peers inside it, feels about inside it, knocks on the crown, blows into it, puts it on again.) This is getting alarming. (Silence. Vladimir deep in thought, Estragon pulling at his toes.) One of the thieves was saved. (Pause.) It’s a reasonable percentage. (Pause.) Gogo.
ESTRAGON:
What?
VLADIMIR:
Suppose we repented.
ESTRAGON:
Repented what?
VLADIMIR:
Oh . . . (He reflects.) We wouldn’t have to go into the details.
ESTRAGON:
Our being born?
(Vladimir breaks into a hearty laugh which he immediately stifles, his hand pressed to his pubis, his face contorted.)
VLADIMIR:
One daren’t even laugh any more.
ESTRAGON:
Dreadful privation.
VLADIMIR:
Merely smile. (He smiles suddenly from ear to ear, keeps smiling, ceases as suddenly.) It’s not the same thing. Nothing to be done. (Pause.) Gogo.
ESTRAGON:
(irritably). What is it?
VLADIMIR:
Did you ever read the Bible?
ESTRAGON:
The Bible . . . (He reflects.) I must have taken a look at it.
VLADIMIR:
Do you remember the Gospels?
ESTRAGON:
I remember the maps of the Holy Land. Coloured they were. Very pretty. The Dead Sea was pale blue. The very look of it made me thirsty. That’s where we’ll go, I used to say, that’s where we’ll go for our honeymoon. We’ll swim. We’ll be happy.
VLADIMIR:
You should have been a poet.
ESTRAGON:
I was. (Gesture towards his rags.) Isn’t that obvious?
(Silence.)
VLADIMIR:
Where was I . . . How’s your foot?
ESTRAGON:
Swelling visibly.
VLADIMIR:
Ah yes, the two thieves. Do you remember the story?
ESTRAGON:
No.
VLADIMIR:
Shall I tell it to you?
ESTRAGON:
No.
VLADIMIR:
It’ll pass the time. (Pause.) Two thieves, crucified at the same time as our Saviour. Oneó
ESTRAGON:
Our what?
VLADIMIR:
Our Saviour. Two thieves. One is supposed to have been saved and the other . . . (he searches for the contrary of saved) . . . damned.
ESTRAGON:
Saved from what?
VLADIMIR:
Hell.
ESTRAGON:
I’m going.
He does not move.
VLADIMIR:
And yet . . . (pause) . . . how is it? this is not boring you I hope? how is it that of the four Evangelists only one speaks of a thief being saved. The four of them were there ?or thereabouts? and only one speaks of a thief being saved. (Pause.) Come on, Gogo, return the ball, can’t you, once in a while?
ESTRAGON:
(with exaggerated enthusiasm). I find this really most extraordinarily interesting.
VLADIMIR:
One out of four. Of the other three two don’t mention any thieves at all and the third says that both of them abused him.
ESTRAGON:
Who?
VLADIMIR:
What?
ESTRAGON:
What’s all this about? Abused who?
VLADIMIR:
The Saviour.
ESTRAGON:
Why?
VLADIMIR:
Because he wouldn’t save them.
ESTRAGON:
From hell?
VLADIMIR:
Imbecile! From death.
ESTRAGON:
I thought you said hell.
VLADIMIR:
From death, from death.
ESTRAGON:
Well what of it?
VLADIMIR:
Then the two of them must have been damned.
ESTRAGON:
And why not?
VLADIMIR:
But one of the four says that one of the two was saved.
ESTRAGON:
Well? They don’t agree and that’s all there is to it.
VLADIMIR:
But all four were there. And only one speaks of a thief being saved. Why believe him rather than the others?
ESTRAGON:
Who believes him?
VLADIMIR:
Everybody. It’s the only version they know.
ESTRAGON:
People are bloody ignorant apes.
(He rises painfully, goes limping to extreme left, halts, gazes into distance off with his hand screening his eyes, turns, goes to extreme right, gazes into distance. Vladimir watches him, then goes and picks up the boot, peers into it, drops it hastily.)
VLADIMIR:
Pah!
(He spits. Estragon moves to center, halts with his back to auditorium.)
ESTRAGON:
Charming spot. (He turns, advances to front, halts facing auditorium.) Inspiring prospects.(He turns to Vladimir.) Let’s go.
VLADIMIR:
We can’t.
ESTRAGON:
Why not?
VLADIMIR:
We’re waiting for Godot.
ESTRAGON:
(despairingly)Ah! (Pause.) You’re sure it was here?
VLADIMIR:
What?
ESTRAGON:
That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR:
He said by the tree. (They look at the tree.) Do you see any others?
ESTRAGON:
What is it?
VLADIMIR:
I don’t know. A willow.
ESTRAGON:
Where are the leaves?
VLADIMIR:
It must be dead.
ESTRAGON:
No more weeping.
VLADIMIR:
Or perhaps it’s not the season.
ESTRAGON:
Looks to me more like a bush.
VLADIMIR:
A shrub.
ESTRAGON:
A bush.
VLADIMIR:
Aó. What are you insinuating? That we’ve come to the wrong place?
ESTRAGON:
He should be here.
VLADIMIR:
He didn’t say for sure he’d come.
ESTRAGON:
And if he doesn’t come?
VLADIMIR:
We’ll come back tomorrow.
ESTRAGON:
And then the day after tomorrow.
VLADIMIR:
Possibly.
ESTRAGON:
And so on.
VLADIMIR:
The point isó
ESTRAGON:
Until he comes.
VLADIMIR:
You’re merciless.
ESTRAGON:
We came here yesterday.
VLADIMIR:
Ah no, there you’re mistaken.
ESTRAGON:
What did we do yesterday?
VLADIMIR:
What did we do yesterday?
ESTRAGON:
Yes.
VLADIMIR:
Why . . . (Angrily.) Nothing is certain when you’re about.
ESTRAGON:
In my opinion we were here.
VLADIMIR:
(looking round). You recognize the place?
ESTRAGON:
I didn’t say that.
VLADIMIR:
Well?
ESTRAGON:
That makes no difference.
VLADIMIR:
All the same . . . that tree . . . (turning towards auditorium) that bog . . .
ESTRAGON:
You’re sure it was this evening?
VLADIMIR:
What?
ESTRAGON:
That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR:
He said Saturday. (Pause.) I think.
ESTRAGON:
You think.
VLADIMIR:
I must have made a note of it. (He fumbles in his pockets, bursting with miscellaneous rubbish.)
ESTRAGON:
(very insidious). But what Saturday? And is it Saturday? Is it not rather Sunday? (Pause.) Or Monday? (Pause.) Or Friday?
VLADIMIR:
(looking wildly about him, as though the date was inscribed in the landscape). It’s not possible!
ESTRAGON:
Or Thursday?
VLADIMIR:
What’ll we do?
ESTRAGON:
If he came yesterday and we weren’t here you may be sure he won’t come again today.
VLADIMIR:
But you say we were here yesterday.
ESTRAGON:
I may be mistaken. (Pause.) Let’s stop talking for a minute, do you mind?
VLADIMIR:
(feebly). All right. (Estragon sits down on the mound. Vladimir paces agitatedly to and fro, halting from time to time to gaze into distance off. Estragon falls asleep. Vladimir halts finally before Estragon.) Gogo! . . . Gogo! . . . GOGO!
(Estragon wakes with a start.)
ESTRAGON:
(restored to the horror of his situation). I was asleep! (Despairingly.) Why will you never let me sleep?
VLADIMIR:
I felt lonely.
ESTRAGON:
I had a dream.
VLADIMIR:
Don’t tell me!
ESTRAGON:
I dreamt tható
VLADIMIR:
DON’T TELL ME!
ESTRAGON:
(gesture toward the universe). This one is enough for you? (Silence.) It’s not nice of you, Didi. Who am I to tell my private nightmares to if I can’t tell them to you?
VLADIMIR:
Let them remain private. You know I can’t bear that.
ESTRAGON:
(coldly.) There are times when I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for us to part.
VLADIMIR:
You wouldn’t go far.
ESTRAGON:
That would be too bad, really too bad. (Pause.) Wouldn’t it, Didi, be really too bad? (Pause.)When you think of the beauty of the way. (Pause.) And the goodness of the wayfarers.(Pause. Wheedling.) Wouldn’t it, Didi?
VLADIMIR:
Calm yourself.
ESTRAGON:
(voluptuously.) Calm . . . calm . . . The English say cawm. (Pause.) You know the story of the Englishman in the brothel?
VLADIMIR:
Yes.
ESTRAGON:
Tell it to me.
VLADIMIR:
Ah stop it!
ESTRAGON:
An Englishman having drunk a little more than usual proceeds to a brothel. The bawd asks him if he wants a fair one, a dark one or a red-haired one. Go on.
VLADIMIR:
STOP IT!
(Exit Vladimir hurriedly. Estragon gets up and follows him as far as the limit of the stage. Gestures of Estragon like those of a spectator encouraging a pugilist. Enter Vladimir. He brushes past Estragon, crosses the stage with bowed head. Estragon takes a step towards him, halts.)
ESTRAGON:
(gently.) You wanted to speak to me? (Silence. Estragon takes a step forward.) You had something to say to me? (Silence. Another step forward.) Didi . . .
VLADIMIR:
(without turning). I’ve nothing to say to you.
ESTRAGON:
(step forward). You’re angry? (Silence. Step forward). Forgive me. (Silence. Step forward. Estragon lays his hand on Vladimir’s shoulder.) Come, Didi. (Silence.) Give me your hand.(Vladimir half turns.) Embrace me! (Vladimir stiffens.) Don’t be stubborn! (Vladimir softens. They embrace. Estragon recoils.) You stink of garlic!
VLADIMIR:
It’s for the kidneys. (Silence. Estragon looks attentively at the tree.) What do we do now?
ESTRAGON:
Wait.
VLADIMIR:
Yes, but while waiting.
ESTRAGON:
What about hanging ourselves?
VLADIMIR:
Hmm. It’d give us an erection.
ESTRAGON:
(highly excited). An erection!
VLADIMIR:
With all that follows. Where it falls mandrakes grow. That’s why they shriek when you pull them up. Did you not know that?
ESTRAGON:
Let’s hang ourselves immediately!
VLADIMIR:
From a bough? (They go towards the tree.) I wouldn’t trust it.
ESTRAGON:
We can always try.
VLADIMIR:
Go ahead.
ESTRAGON:
After you.
VLADIMIR:
No no, you first.
ESTRAGON:
Why me?
VLADIMIR:
You’re lighter than I am.
ESTRAGON:
Just so!
VLADIMIR:
I don’t understand.
ESTRAGON:
Use your intelligence, can’t you?
(Vladimir uses his intelligence.)
VLADIMIR:
(finally). I remain in the dark.
ESTRAGON:
This is how it is. (He reflects.) The bough . . . the bough . . . (Angrily.) Use your head, can’t you?
VLADIMIR:
You’re my only hope.
ESTRAGON:
(with effort). Gogo light – bough not break – Gogo dead. Didi heavy – bough break – Didi alone. Whereas
VLADIMIR:
I hadn’t thought of that.
ESTRAGON:
If it hangs you it’ll hang anything.
VLADIMIR:
But am I heavier than you?
ESTRAGON:
So you tell me. I don’t know. There’s an even chance. Or nearly.
VLADIMIR:
Well? What do we do?
ESTRAGON:
Don’t let’s do anything. It’s safer.
VLADIMIR:
Let’s wait and see what he says.
ESTRAGON:
Who?
VLADIMIR:
Godot.
(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.)
VLADIMIR:
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:
(turning to look at the boots). I’m leaving them there. (Pause.) 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.
(Silence.)
VLADIMIR:
We’ve nothing more to do here.
ESTRAGON:
Nor anywhere else.
VLADIMIR:
Ah Gogo, don’t go on like that. Tomorrow everything will be better.
ESTRAGON:
How do you make that out?
VLADIMIR:
Did you not hear what the child said?
ESTRAGON:
No.
VLADIMIR:
He said that Godot was sure to come tomorrow. (Pause.) What do you say to that?
ESTRAGON:
Then all we have to do is to wait on here.
VLADIMIR:
Are you mad? We must take cover. (He takes Estragon by the arm.) Come on.
(He draws Estragon after him. Estragon yields, then resists. They halt.)
ESTRAGON:
(looking at the tree). Pity we haven’t got a bit of rope.
VLADIMIR:
Come on. It’s cold.
(He draws Estragon after him. As before.)
ESTRAGON:
Remind me to bring a bit of rope tomorrow.
VLADIMIR:
Yes. Come on.
(He draws him after him. As before.)
ESTRAGON:
How long have we been together all the time now?
VLADIMIR:
I don’t know. Fifty years maybe.
ESTRAGON:
Do you remember the day I threw myself into the Rhone?
VLADIMIR:
We were grape harvesting.
ESTRAGON:
You fished me out.
VLADIMIR:
That’s all dead and buried.
ESTRAGON:
My clothes dried in the sun.
VLADIMIR:
There’s no good harking back on that. Come on.
(He draws him after him. As before.)
ESTRAGON:
Wait!
VLADIMIR:
I’m cold!
ESTRAGON:
Wait! (He moves away from Vladimir.) I sometimes wonder if we wouldn’t have been better off alone, each one for himself. (He crosses the stage and sits down on the mound.) We weren’t made for the same road.
VLADIMIR:
(without anger). It’s not certain.
ESTRAGON:
No, nothing is certain.
(Vladimir slowly crosses the stage and sits down beside Estragon.)
VLADIMIR:
We can still part, if you think it would be better.
ESTRAGON:
It’s not worthwhile now.
(Silence.)
VLADIMIR:
No, it’s not worthwhile now.
(Silence.)
ESTRAGON:
Well, shall we go?
VLADIMIR:
Yes, let’s go.
(They do not move.)
Curtain.