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Thread: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

  1. #17551

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Someone make something happen.

  2. #17552

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by jpmillet17 View Post
    Travis Barker & A-Track
    Is there a chance?
    Fix your career volume 3

  3. #17553

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Mediocore imitation of William Hurt/Heal.

    Quote Originally Posted by TomAz View Post
    Hey here's an idea. You know those people who are desperately poor, down on their luck, uneducated, abused, and generally ill-equipped for life? Let's make fun of them.

  4. #17554
    Peaceful Oasis TomAz's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    ACT II

    Next day. Same time.


    Same place.
    Estragon's boots front center, heels together, toes splayed.
    Lucky's hat at same place.
    The tree has four or five leaves.
    Enter Vladimir agitatedly. He halts and looks long at the tree, then suddenly begins to move feverishly about the stage. He halts before the boots, picks one up, examines it, sniffs it, manifests disgust, puts it back carefully. Comes and goes. Halts extreme right and gazes into distance off, shading his eyes with his hand. Comes and goes. Halts extreme left, as before. Comes and goes. Halts suddenly and begins to sing loudly.


    VLADIMIR:

    A dog came in–
    Having begun too high he stops, clears his throat, resumes:
    A dog came in the kitchen
    And stole a crust of bread.
    Then cook up with a ladle
    And beat him till he was dead.

    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb–

    He stops, broods, resumes:
    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb
    And wrote upon the tombstone
    For the eyes of dogs to come:

    A dog came in the kitchen
    And stole a crust of bread.
    Then cook up with a ladle
    And beat him till he was dead.

    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb–

    He stops, broods, resumes:
    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb–

    He stops, broods. Softly.
    And dug the dog a tomb . . .
    He remains a moment silent and motionless, then begins to move feverishly about the stage. He halts before the tree, comes and goes, before the boots, comes and goes, halts extreme right, gazes into distance, extreme left, gazes into distance. Enter Estragon right, barefoot, head bowed. He slowly crosses the stage. Vladimir turns and sees him.
    VLADIMIR:
    You again! (Estragon halts but does not raise his head. Vladimir goes towards him.) Come here till I embrace you.
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't touch me!
    Vladimir holds back, pained.
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you want me to go away? (Pause.) Gogo! (Pause. Vladimir observes him attentively.) Did they beat you? (Pause.) Gogo! (Estragon remains silent, head bowed.) Where did you spend the night?
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't touch me! Don't question me! Don't speak to me! Stay with me!
    VLADIMIR:
    Did I ever leave you?
    ESTRAGON:
    You let me go.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look at me. (Estragon does not raise his head. Violently.) Will you look at me!
    Estragon raises his head. They look long at each other, then suddenly embrace, clapping each other on the back. End of the embrace. Estragon, no longer supported, almost falls.
    ESTRAGON:
    What a day!
    VLADIMIR:
    Who beat you? Tell me.
    ESTRAGON:
    Another day done with.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not yet.
    ESTRAGON:
    For me it's over and done with, no matter what happens. (Silence.) I heard you singing.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's right, I remember.
    ESTRAGON:
    That finished me. I said to myself, He's all alone, he thinks I'm gone for ever, and he sings.
    VLADIMIR:
    One is not master of one's moods. All day I've felt in great form. (Pause.) I didn't get up in the night, not once!
    ESTRAGON:
    (sadly). You see, you piss better when I'm not there.
    VLADIMIR:
    I missed you . . . and at the same time I was happy. Isn't that a strange thing?
    ESTRAGON:
    (shocked). Happy?
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps it's not quite the right word.
    ESTRAGON:
    And now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Now? . . . (Joyous.) There you are again . . . (Indifferent.) There we are again. . . (Gloomy.) There I am again.
    ESTRAGON:
    You see, you feel worse when I'm with you. I feel better alone too.
    VLADIMIR:
    (vexed). Then why do you always come crawling back?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, but I do. It's because you don't know how to defend yourself. I wouldn't have let them beat you.
    ESTRAGON:
    You couldn't have stopped them.
    VLADIMIR:
    Why not?
    ESTRAGON:
    There was ten of them.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean before they beat you. I would have stopped you from doing whatever it was you were doing.
    ESTRAGON:
    I wasn't doing anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then why did they beat you?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah no, Gogo, the truth is there are things that escape you that don't escape me, you must feel it yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you I wasn't doing anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps you weren't. But it's the way of doing it that counts, the way of doing it, if you want to go on living.
    ESTRAGON:
    I wasn't doing anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    You must be happy too, deep down, if you only knew it.
    ESTRAGON:
    Happy about what?
    VLADIMIR:
    To be back with me again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Would you say so?
    VLADIMIR:
    Say you are, even if it's not true.
    ESTRAGON:
    What am I to say?
    VLADIMIR:
    Say, I am happy.
    ESTRAGON:
    I am happy.
    VLADIMIR:
    So am I.
    ESTRAGON:
    So am I.
    VLADIMIR:
    We are happy.
    ESTRAGON:
    We are happy. (Silence.) What do we do now, now that we are happy?
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait for Godot. (Estragon groans. Silence.) Things have changed here since yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he doesn't come?
    VLADIMIR:
    (after a moment of bewilderment). We'll see when the time comes. (Pause.) I was saying that things have changed here since yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    Everything oozes.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look at the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's never the same pus from one second to the next.
    VLADIMIR:
    The tree, look at the tree.
    Estragon looks at the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    Was it not there yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes of course it was there. Do you not remember? We nearly hanged ourselves from it. But you wouldn't. Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    You dreamt it.
    VLADIMIR:
    Is it possible you've forgotten already?
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the way I am. Either I forget immediately or I never forget.
    VLADIMIR:
    And Pozzo and Lucky, have you forgotten them too?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo and Lucky?
    VLADIMIR:
    He's forgotten everything!
    ESTRAGON:
    I remember a lunatic who kicked the shins off me. Then he played the fool.
    VLADIMIR:
    That was Lucky.
    ESTRAGON:
    I remember that. But when was it?
    VLADIMIR:
    And his keeper, do you not remember him?
    ESTRAGON:
    He gave me a bone.
    VLADIMIR:
    That was Pozzo.
    ESTRAGON:
    And all that was yesterday, you say?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes of course it was yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    And here where we are now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Where else do you think? Do you not recognize the place?
    ESTRAGON:
    (suddenly furious). Recognize! What is there to recognize? All my lousy life I've crawled about in the mud! And you talk to me about scenery! (Looking wildly about him.) Look at this muckheap! I've never stirred from it!
    VLADIMIR:
    Calm yourself, calm yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    You and your landscapes! Tell me about the worms!
    VLADIMIR:
    All the same, you can't tell me that this (gesture) bears any resemblance to . . . (he hesitates) . . . to the Macon country for example. You can't deny there's a big difference.
    ESTRAGON:
    The Macon country! Who's talking to you about the Macon country?
    VLADIMIR:
    But you were there yourself, in the Macon country.
    ESTRAGON:
    No I was never in the Macon country! I've puked my puke of a life away here, I tell you! Here! In the Cackon country!
    VLADIMIR:
    But we were there together, I could swear to it! Picking grapes for a man called . . . (he snaps his fingers) . . . can't think of the name of the man, at a place called . . . (snaps his fingers) . . . can't think of the name of the place, do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    (a little calmer). It's possible. I didn't notice anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    But down there everything is red!
    ESTRAGON:
    (exasperated). I didn't notice anything, I tell you!
    Silence. Vladimir sighs deeply.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're a hard man to get on with, Gogo.
    ESTRAGON:
    It'd be better if we parted.
    VLADIMIR:
    You always say that and you always come crawling back.
    ESTRAGON:
    The best thing would be to kill me, like the other.
    VLADIMIR:
    What other? (Pause.) What other?
    ESTRAGON:
    Like billions of others.
    VLADIMIR:
    (sententious). To every man his little cross. (He sighs.) Till he dies. (Afterthought.) And is forgotten.
    ESTRAGON:
    In the meantime let us try and converse calmly, since we are incapable of keeping silent.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're right, we're inexhaustible.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's so we won't think.
    VLADIMIR:
    We have that excuse.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's so we won't hear.
    VLADIMIR:
    We have our reasons.
    ESTRAGON:
    All the dead voices.
    VLADIMIR:
    They make a noise like wings.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    VLADIMIR:
    Like sand.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    They all speak at once.
    ESTRAGON:
    Each one to itself.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Rather they whisper.
    ESTRAGON:
    They rustle.
    VLADIMIR:
    They murmur.
    ESTRAGON:
    They rustle.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What do they say?
    ESTRAGON:
    They talk about their lives.
    VLADIMIR:
    To have lived is not enough for them.
    ESTRAGON:
    They have to talk about it.
    VLADIMIR:
    To be dead is not enough for them.
    ESTRAGON:
    It is not sufficient.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    They make a noise like feathers.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    VLADIMIR:
    Likes ashes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    Long silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Say something!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm trying.
    Long silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    (in anguish). Say anything at all!
    ESTRAGON:
    What do we do now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    This is awful!
    ESTRAGON:
    Sing something.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no! (He reflects.) We could start all over again perhaps.
    ESTRAGON:
    That should be easy.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's the start that's difficult.
    ESTRAGON:
    You can start from anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but you have to decide.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Help me!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm trying.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    When you seek you hear.
    ESTRAGON:
    You do.
    VLADIMIR:
    That prevents you from finding.
    ESTRAGON:
    It does.
    VLADIMIR:
    That prevents you from thinking.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think all the same.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no, it's impossible.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the idea, let's contradict each another.
    VLADIMIR:
    Impossible.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think so?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're in no danger of ever thinking any more.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then what are we complaining about?
    VLADIMIR:
    Thinking is not the worst.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps not. But at least there's that.
    VLADIMIR:
    That what?
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the idea, let's ask each other questions.
    VLADIMIR:
    What do you mean, at least there's that?
    ESTRAGON:
    That much less misery.
    VLADIMIR:
    True.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well? If we gave thanks for our mercies?
    VLADIMIR:
    What is terrible is to have thought.
    ESTRAGON:
    But did that ever happen to us?
    VLADIMIR:
    Where are all these corpses from?
    ESTRAGON:
    These skeletons.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell me that.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    We must have thought a little.
    ESTRAGON:
    At the very beginning.
    VLADIMIR:
    A charnel-house! A charnel-house!
    ESTRAGON:
    You don't have to look.
    VLADIMIR:
    You can't help looking.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try as one may.
    ESTRAGON:
    I beg your pardon?
    VLADIMIR:
    Try as one may.
    ESTRAGON:
    We should turn resolutely towards Nature.
    VLADIMIR:
    We've tried that.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh it's not the worst, I know.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    To have thought.
    ESTRAGON:
    Obviously.
    VLADIMIR:
    But we could have done without it.
    ESTRAGON:
    Que voulez-vous?
    VLADIMIR:
    I beg your pardon?
    ESTRAGON:
    Que voulez-vouz.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah! que voulez-vous. Exactly.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    That wasn't such a bad little canter.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but now we'll have to find something else.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let me see.
    He takes off his hat, concentrates.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let me see. (He takes off his hat, concentrates. Long silence.) Ah!
    They put on their hats, relax.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well?
    VLADIMIR:
    What was I saying, we could go on from there.
    ESTRAGON:
    What were you saying when?
    VLADIMIR:
    At the very beginning.
    ESTRAGON:
    The very beginning of WHAT?
    VLADIMIR:
    This evening . . . I was saying . . . I was saying . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm not a historian.
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait . . . we embraced . . . we were happy . . . happy . . . what do we do now that we're happy . . . go on waiting . . . waiting . . . let me think . . . it's coming . . . go on waiting . . . now that we're happy . . . let me see . . . ah! The tree!
    ESTRAGON:
    The tree?
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm tired.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look at it.
    They look at the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    I see nothing.
    VLADIMIR:
    But yesterday evening it was all black and bare. And now it's covered with leaves.
    ESTRAGON:
    Leaves?
    VLADIMIR:
    In a single night.
    ESTRAGON:
    It must be the Spring.
    VLADIMIR:
    But in a single night!
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you we weren't here yesterday. Another of your nightmares.
    VLADIMIR:
    And where were we yesterday evening according to you?
    ESTRAGON:
    How would I know? In another compartment. There's no lack of void.
    VLADIMIR:
    (sure of himself). Good. We weren't here yesterday evening. Now what did we do yesterday evening?
    ESTRAGON:
    Do?
    VLADIMIR:
    Try and remember.
    ESTRAGON:
    Do . . . I suppose we blathered.
    VLADIMIR:
    (controlling himself). About what?
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh . . . this and that I suppose, nothing in particular. (With assurance.) Yes, now I remember, yesterday evening we spent blathering about nothing in particular. That's been going on now for half a century.
    VLADIMIR:
    You don't remember any fact, any circumstance?
    ESTRAGON:
    (weary). Don't torment me, Didi.
    VLADIMIR:
    The sun. The moon. Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    They must have been there, as usual.
    VLADIMIR:
    You didn't notice anything out of the ordinary?
    ESTRAGON:
    Alas!
    VLADIMIR:
    And Pozzo? And Lucky?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo?
    VLADIMIR:
    The bones.
    ESTRAGON:
    They were like fishbones.
    VLADIMIR:
    It was Pozzo gave them to you.
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    And the kick.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's right, someone gave me a kick.
    VLADIMIR:
    It was Lucky gave it to you.
    ESTRAGON:
    And all that was yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me your leg.
    ESTRAGON:
    Which?
    VLADIMIR:
    Both. Pull up your trousers. (Estragon gives a leg to Vladimir, staggers. Vladimir takes the leg. They stagger.) Pull up your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    I can't.
    Vladimir pulls up the trousers, looks at the leg, lets it go. Estragon almost falls.
    VLADIMIR:
    The other. (Estragon gives the same leg.) The other, pig! (Estragon gives the other leg. Triumphantly.) There's the wound! Beginning to fester!
    ESTRAGON:
    And what about it?
    VLADIMIR:
    (letting go the leg). Where are your boots?
    ESTRAGON:
    I must have thrown them away.
    VLADIMIR:
    When?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    Why?
    ESTRAGON:
    (exasperated). I don't know why I don't know!
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean why did you throw them away?
    ESTRAGON:
    (exasperated). Because they were hurting me!
    VLADIMIR:
    (triumphantly, pointing to the boots). There they are! (Estragon looks at the boots.) At the very spot where you left them yesterday!
    Estragon goes towards the boots, inspects them closely.
    ESTRAGON:
    They're not mine.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stupefied). Not yours!
    ESTRAGON:
    Mine were black. These are brown.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're sure yours were black?
    ESTRAGON:
    Well they were a kind of gray.
    VLADIMIR:
    And these are brown. Show me.
    ESTRAGON:
    (picking up a boot). Well they're a kind of green.
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me. (Estragon hands him the boot. Vladimir inspects it, throws it down angrily.) Well of all the—
    ESTRAGON:
    You see, all that's a lot of bloody—
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah! I see what it is. Yes, I see what's happened.
    ESTRAGON:
    All that's a lot of bloody—
    VLADIMIR:
    It's elementary. Someone came and took yours and left you his.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why?
    VLADIMIR:
    His were too tight for him, so he took yours.
    ESTRAGON:
    But mine were too tight.
    VLADIMIR:
    For you. Not for him.
    ESTRAGON:
    (having tried in vain to work it out). I'm tired! (Pause.) Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Pause. Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
    VLADIMIR:
    There's nothing we can do.
    ESTRAGON:
    But I can't go on like this!
    VLADIMIR:
    Would you like a radish?
    ESTRAGON:
    Is that all there is?
    VLADIMIR:
    There are radishes and turnips.
    ESTRAGON:
    Are there no carrots?
    VLADIMIR:
    No. Anyway you overdo it with your carrots.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then give me a radish. (Vladimir fumbles in his pockets, finds nothing but turnips, finally brings out a radish and hands it to Estragon who examines it, sniffs it.) It's black!
    VLADIMIR:
    It's a radish.
    ESTRAGON:
    I only like the pink ones, you know that!
    VLADIMIR:
    Then you don't want it?
    ESTRAGON:
    I only like the pink ones!
    VLADIMIR:
    Then give it back to me.
    Estragon gives it back.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'll go and get a carrot.
    He does not move.
    VLADIMIR:
    This is becoming really insignificant.
    ESTRAGON:
    Not enough.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What about trying them.
    ESTRAGON:
    I've tried everything.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean the boots.
    ESTRAGON:
    Would that be a good thing?
    VLADIMIR:
    It'd pass the time. (Estragon hesitates.) I assure you, it'd be an occupation.
    ESTRAGON:
    A relaxation.
    VLADIMIR:
    A recreation.
    ESTRAGON:
    A relaxation.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try.
    ESTRAGON:
    You'll help me?
    VLADIMIR:
    I will of course.
    ESTRAGON:
    We don't manage too badly, eh Didi, between the two of us?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes yes. Come on, we'll try the left first.
    ESTRAGON:
    We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist?
    VLADIMIR:
    (impatiently). Yes yes, we're magicians. But let us persevere in what we have resolved, before we forget. (He picks up a boot.) Come on, give me your foot. (Estragon raises his foot.) The other, hog! (Estragon raises the other foot.) Higher! #

    (Wreathed together they stagger about the stage. Vladimir succeeds finally in getting on the boot.) Try and walk. (Estragon walks.) Well?
    ESTRAGON:
    It fits.
    VLADIMIR:
    (taking string from his pocket). We'll try and lace it.
    ESTRAGON:
    (vehemently). No no, no laces, no laces!
    VLADIMIR:
    You'll be sorry. Let's try the other. (As before.) Well?
    ESTRAGON:
    (grudgingly). It fits too.
    VLADIMIR:
    They don't hurt you?
    ESTRAGON:
    Not yet.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then you can keep them.
    ESTRAGON:
    They're too big.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps you'll have socks some day.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then you'll keep them?
    ESTRAGON:
    That's enough about these boots.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but—
    ESTRAGON:
    (violently). Enough! (Silence.) I suppose I might as well sit down.
    He looks for a place to sit down, then goes and sits down on the mound.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's where you were sitting yesterday evening.
    ESTRAGON:
    If I could only sleep.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yesterday you slept.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'll try.
    He resumes his foetal posture, his head between his knees.
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait. (He goes over and sits down beside Estragon and begins to sing in a loud voice.)
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye– #





    ESTRAGON:
    (looking up angrily). Not so loud!
    VLADIMIR:
    (softly).
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye . . .
    Estragon sleeps. Vladimir gets up softly, takes off his coat and lays it across Estragon's shoulders, then starts walking up and down, swinging his arms to keep himself warm. Estragon wakes with a start, jumps up, casts about wildly. Vladimir runs to him, puts his arms around him.) There . . . there . . . Didi is here . . . don't be afraid . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    VLADIMIR:
    There . . . there . . . it's all over.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was falling—
    VLADIMIR:
    It's all over, it's all over.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was on top of a—
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't tell me! Come, we'll walk it off.
    He takes Estragon by the arm and walks him up and down until Estragon refuses to go any further.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's enough. I'm tired.
    VLADIMIR:
    You'd rather be stuck there doing nothing?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    Please yourself.
    He releases Estragon, picks up his coat and puts it on.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Vladimir walks up and down.) Can you not stay still?
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm cold.
    ESTRAGON:
    We came too soon.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's always at nightfall.
    ESTRAGON:
    But night doesn't fall.
    VLADIMIR:
    It'll fall all of a sudden, like yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then it'll be night.
    VLADIMIR:
    And we can go.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then it'll be day again. (Pause. Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
    VLADIMIR:
    (halting, violently). Will you stop whining! I've had about my bellyful of your lamentations!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    (seeing Lucky's hat). Well!
    ESTRAGON:
    Farewell.
    VLADIMIR:
    Lucky's hat. (He goes towards it.) I've been here an hour and never saw it. (Very pleased.) Fine!
    ESTRAGON:
    You'll never see me again.
    VLADIMIR:
    I knew it was the right place. Now our troubles are over. (He picks up the hat, contemplates it, straightens it.) Must have been a very fine hat. (He puts it on in place of his own which he hands to Estragon.) Here.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Hold that.
    Estragon takes Vladimir's hat. Vladimir adjusts Lucky's hat on his head. Estragon puts on Vladimir's hat in place of his own which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes Estragon's hat. Estragon adjusts Vladimir's hat on his head. Vladimir puts on Estragon's hat in place of Lucky's which he hands to Estragon. Estragon takes Lucky's hat. Vladimir adjusts Estragon's hat on his head. Estragon puts on Lucky's hat in place of Vladimir's which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes his hat, Estragon adjusts Lucky's hat on his head. Vladimir puts on his hat in place of Estragon's which he hands to Estragon. Estragon takes his hat. Vladimir adjusts his hat on his head. Estragon puts on his hat in place of Lucky's which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes Lucky's hat. Estragon adjusts his hat on his head. Vladimir puts on Lucky's hat in place of his own which he hands to Estragon. Estragon takes Vladimir's hat. Vladimir adjusts Lucky's hat on his head. Estragon hands Vladimir's hat back to Vladimir who takes it and hands it back to Estragon who takes it and hands it back to Vladimir who takes it and throws it down.
    How does it fit me?
    ESTRAGON:
    How would I know?
    VLADIMIR:
    No, but how do I look in it?
    He turns his head coquettishly to and fro, minces like a mannequin.
    ESTRAGON:
    Hideous.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but not more so than usual?
    ESTRAGON:
    Neither more nor less.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then I can keep it. Mine irked me. (Pause.) How shall I say? (Pause.) It itched me.
    He takes off Lucky's hat, peers into it, shakes it, knocks on the crown, puts it on again.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Will you not play?
    ESTRAGON:
    Play at what?
    VLADIMIR:
    We could play at Pozzo and Lucky.
    ESTRAGON:
    Never heard of it.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll do Lucky, you do Pozzo. (He imitates Lucky sagging under the weight of his baggage. Estragon looks at him with stupefaction.) Go on.
    ESTRAGON:
    What am I to do?
    VLADIMIR:
    Curse me!
    ESTRAGON:
    (after reflection). Naughty!
    VLADIMIR:
    Stronger!
    ESTRAGON:
    Gonococcus! Spirochete!
    Vladimir sways back and forth, doubled in two.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell me to think.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Say, Think, pig!
    ESTRAGON:
    Think, pig!
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    I can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's enough of that.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell me to dance.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Dance, hog! (He writhes. Exit Estragon left, precipitately.) I can't! (He looks up, misses Estragon.) Gogo! (He moves wildly about the stage. Enter Estragon left, panting. He hastens towards Vladimir, falls into his arms.) There you are again at last!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm accursed!
    VLADIMIR:
    Where were you? I thought you were gone for ever.
    ESTRAGON:
    They're coming!
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    How many?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    (triumphantly). It's Godot! At last! Gogo! It's Godot! We're saved! Let's go and meet him! (He drags Estragon towards the wings. Estragon resists, pulls himself free, exit right.) Gogo! Come back! (Vladimir runs to extreme left, scans the horizon. Enter Estragon right, he hastens towards Vladimir, falls into his arms.) There you are again again!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm in hell!
    VLADIMIR:
    Where were you?
    ESTRAGON:
    They're coming there too!
    VLADIMIR:
    We're surrounded! (Estragon makes a rush towards back.) Imbecile! There's no way out there. (He takes Estragon by the arm and drags him towards front. Gesture towards front.) There! Not a soul in sight! Off you go! Quick! (He pushes Estragon towards auditorium. Estragon recoils in horror.) You won't? (He contemplates auditorium.) Well I can understand that. Wait till I see. (He reflects.) Your only hope left is to disappear.
    ESTRAGON:
    Where?
    VLADIMIR:
    Behind the tree. (Estragon hesitates.) Quick! Behind the tree. (Estragon goes and crouches behind the tree, realizes he is not hidden, comes out from behind the tree.) Decidedly this tree will not have been the slightest use to us.
    ESTRAGON:
    (calmer). I lost my head. Forgive me. It won't happen again. Tell me what to do.
    VLADIMIR:
    There's nothing to do.
    ESTRAGON:
    You go and stand there. (He draws Vladimir to extreme right and places him with his back to the stage.) There, don't move, and watch out. (Vladimir scans horizon, screening his eyes with his hand. Estragon runs and takes up same position extreme left. They turn their heads and look at each other.) Back to back like in the good old days. (They continue to look at each other for a moment, then resume their watch. Long silence.) Do you see anything coming?
    VLADIMIR:
    (turning his head). What?
    ESTRAGON:
    (louder). Do you see anything coming?
    VLADIMIR:
    No.
    ESTRAGON:
    Nor I.
    They resume their watch. Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    You must have had a vision.
    ESTRAGON:
    (turning his head). What?
    VLADIMIR:
    (louder). You must have had a vision.
    ESTRAGON:
    No need to shout!
    They resume their watch. Silence.
    VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
    (turning simultaneously). Do you—
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh pardon!
    ESTRAGON:
    Carry on.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no, after you.
    ESTRAGON:
    No no, you first.
    VLADIMIR:
    I interrupted you.
    ESTRAGON:
    On the contrary.
    They glare at each other angrily.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ceremonious ape!
    ESTRAGON:
    Punctilious pig!
    VLADIMIR:
    Finish your phrase, I tell you!
    ESTRAGON:
    Finish your own!
    Silence. They draw closer, halt.
    VLADIMIR:
    Moron!
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the idea, let's abuse each other.
    They turn, move apart, turn again and face each other.
    VLADIMIR:
    Moron!
    ESTRAGON:
    Vermin!
    VLADIMIR:
    Abortion!
    ESTRAGON:
    Morpion!
    VLADIMIR:
    Sewer-rat!
    ESTRAGON:
    Curate!
    VLADIMIR:
    Cretin!
    ESTRAGON:
    (with finality). Crritic!
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh!
    He wilts, vanquished, and turns away.
    ESTRAGON:
    Now let's make it up.
    VLADIMIR:
    Gogo!
    ESTRAGON:
    Didi!
    VLADIMIR:
    Your hand!
    ESTRAGON:
    Take it!
    VLADIMIR:
    Come to my arms!
    ESTRAGON:
    Yours arms?
    VLADIMIR:
    My breast!
    ESTRAGON:
    Off we go!
    They embrace. #

    They separate. Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    How time flies when one has fun!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    What do we do now?
    VLADIMIR:
    While waiting.
    ESTRAGON:
    While waiting.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    We could do our exercises.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our movements.
    VLADIMIR:
    Our elevations.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our relaxations.
    VLADIMIR:
    Our elongations.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our relaxations.
    VLADIMIR:
    To warm us up.
    ESTRAGON:
    To calm us down.
    VLADIMIR:
    Off we go.
    Vladimir hops from one foot to the other. Estragon imitates him.
    ESTRAGON:
    (stopping). That's enough. I'm tired.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stopping). We're not in form. What about a little deep breathing?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm tired breathing.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're right. (Pause.) Let's just do the tree, for the balance.
    ESTRAGON:
    The tree?
    Vladimir does the tree, staggering about on one leg.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stopping). Your turn.
    Estragon does the tree, staggers.
    ESTRAGON:
    Do you think God sees me?
    VLADIMIR:
    You must close your eyes.
    Estragon closes his eyes, staggers worse.
    ESTRAGON:
    (stopping, brandishing his fists, at the top of his voice.) God have pity on me!
    VLADIMIR:
    (vexed). And me?
    ESTRAGON:
    On me! On me! Pity! On me!
    Enter Pozzo and Lucky. Pozzo is blind. Lucky burdened as before. Rope as before, but much shorter, so that Pozzo may follow more easily. Lucky wearing a different hat. At the sight of Vladimir and Estragon he stops short. Pozzo, continuing on his way, bumps into him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Gogo!
    POZZO:
    (clutching onto Lucky who staggers). What is it? Who is it?
    Lucky falls, drops everything and brings down Pozzo with him. They lie helpless among the scattered baggage.
    ESTRAGON:
    Is it Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    At last! (He goes towards the heap.) Reinforcements at last!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Is it Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    We were beginning to weaken. Now we're sure to see the evening out.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Do you hear him?
    VLADIMIR:
    We are no longer alone, waiting for the night, waiting for Godot, waiting for . . . waiting. All evening we have struggled, unassisted. Now it's over. It's already tomorrow.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    Time flows again already. The sun will set, the moon rise, and we away . . . from here.
    POZZO:
    Pity!
    VLADIMIR:
    Poor Pozzo!
    ESTRAGON:
    I knew it was him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    Godot.
    VLADIMIR:
    But it's not Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's not Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    It's not Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then who is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    It's Pozzo.
    POZZO:
    Here! Here! Help me up!
    VLADIMIR:
    He can't get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps he has another bone for you.
    ESTRAGON:
    Bone?
    VLADIMIR:
    Chicken. Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    It was him?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ask him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps we should help him first.
    ESTRAGON:
    To do what?
    VLADIMIR:
    To get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    He can't get up?
    VLADIMIR:
    He wants to get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then let him get up.
    VLADIMIR:
    He can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know.
    Pozzo writhes, groans, beats the ground with his fists.
    ESTRAGON:
    We should ask him for the bone first. Then if he refuses we'll leave him there.
    VLADIMIR:
    You mean we have him at our mercy?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    And that we should subordinate our good offices to certain conditions?
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    That seems intelligent all right. But there's one thing I'm afraid of.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    That Lucky might get going all of a sudden. Then we'd be ballocksed.
    ESTRAGON:
    Lucky?
    VLADIMIR:
    The one that went for you yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you there was ten of them.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, before that, the one that kicked you.
    ESTRAGON:
    Is he there?
    VLADIMIR:
    As large as life. (Gesture towards Lucky.) For the moment he is inert. But he might run amuck any minute.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    And suppose we gave him a good beating, the two of us.
    VLADIMIR:
    You mean if we fell on him in his sleep?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    That seems a good idea all right. But could we do it? Is he really asleep? (Pause.) No, the best would be to take advantage of Pozzo's calling for help—
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    To help him—
    ESTRAGON:
    We help him?
    VLADIMIR:
    In anticipation of some tangible return.
    ESTRAGON:
    And suppose he—
    VLADIMIR:
    Let us not waste our time in idle discourse! (Pause. Vehemently.) Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us! What do you say? (Estragon says nothing.) It is true that when with folded arms we weigh the pros and cons we are no less a credit to our species. The tiger bounds to the help of his congeners without the least reflection, or else he slinks away into the depths of the thickets. But that is not the question. What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in this immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come—
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    Or for night to fall. (Pause.) We have kept our appointment and that's an end to that. We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much?
    ESTRAGON:
    Billions.
    VLADIMIR:
    You think so?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    You may be right.
    POZZO:
    Help! #



    VLADIMIR:
    All I know is that the hours are long, under these conditions, and constrain us to beguile them with proceedings which –how shall I say– which may at first sight seem reasonable, until they become a habit. You may say it is to prevent our reason from foundering. No doubt. But has it not long been straying in the night without end of the abyssal depths? That's what I sometimes wonder. You follow my reasoning?
    ESTRAGON:
    (aphoristic for once). We are all born mad. Some remain so.
    POZZO:
    Help! I'll pay you!
    ESTRAGON:
    How much?
    POZZO:
    One hundred francs!
    ESTRAGON:
    It's not enough.
    VLADIMIR:
    I wouldn't go so far as that.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think it's enough?
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean so far as to assert that I was weak in the head when I came into the world. But that is not the question.
    POZZO:
    Two hundred!
    VLADIMIR:
    We wait. We are bored. (He throws up his hand.) No, don't protest, we are bored to death, there's no denying it. Good. A diversion comes along and what do we do? We let it go to waste. Come, let's get to work! (He advances towards the heap, stops in his stride.) In an instant all will vanish and we'll be alone once more, in the midst of nothingness!
    He broods.
    POZZO:
    Two hundred!
    VLADIMIR:
    We're coming!
    He tries to pull Pozzo to his feet, fails, tries again, stumbles, falls, tries to get up, fails.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's the matter with you all?
    VLADIMIR:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't leave me! They'll kill me!
    POZZO:
    Where am I?
    VLADIMIR:
    Gogo!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Help me up first, then we'll go together.
    ESTRAGON:
    You promise?
    VLADIMIR:
    I swear it!
    ESTRAGON:
    And we'll never come back?
    VLADIMIR:
    Never!
    ESTRAGON:
    We'll go to the Pyrenees.
    VLADIMIR:
    Wherever you like.
    ESTRAGON:
    I've always wanted to wander in the Pyrenees.
    VLADIMIR:
    You'll wander in them.
    ESTRAGON:
    (recoiling). Who farted?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pozzo.
    POZZO:
    Here! Here! Pity!
    ESTRAGON:
    It's revolting!
    VLADIMIR:
    Quick! Give me your hand!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going. (Pause. Louder.) I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well I suppose in the end I'll get up by myself. (He tries, fails.) In the fullness of time.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's the matter with you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Go to hell.
    ESTRAGON:
    Are you staying there?
    VLADIMIR:
    For the time being.
    ESTRAGON:
    Come on, get up, you'll catch a chill.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't worry about me.
    ESTRAGON:
    Come on, Didi, don't be pig-headed!
    He stretches out his hand which Vladimir makes haste to seize.
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull!
    Estragon pulls, stumbles, falls. Long silence.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    We've arrived.
    POZZO:
    Who are you?
    VLADIMIR:
    We are men.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Sweet mother earth!
    VLADIMIR:
    Can you get up?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try.
    ESTRAGON:
    Not now, not now.
    Silence.
    POZZO:
    What happened?
    VLADIMIR:
    (violently). Will you stop it, you! Pest! He can think of nothing but himself!
    ESTRAGON:
    What about a little snooze?
    VLADIMIR:
    Did you hear him? He wants to know what happened!
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't mind him. Sleep.
    Silence.
    POZZO:
    Pity! Pity!
    ESTRAGON:
    (with a start). What is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    Were you asleep?
    ESTRAGON:
    I must have been.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's this bastard Pozzo at it again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Make him stop it. Kick him in the crotch.
    VLADIMIR:
    (striking Pozzo). Will you stop it! Crablouse! (Pozzo extricates himself with cries of pain and crawls away. He stops, saws the air blindly, calling for help. Vladimir, propped on his elbow, observes his retreat.) He's off! (Pozzo collapses.) He's down!
    #


    ESTRAGON:
    What do we do now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps I could crawl to him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't leave me!
    VLADIMIR:
    Or I could call to him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes, call to him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Pozzo! (Silence.) Pozzo! (Silence.) No reply.
    ESTRAGON:
    Together.
    VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo! Pozzo!
    VLADIMIR:
    He moved.
    ESTRAGON:
    Are you sure his name is Pozzo?
    VLADIMIR:
    (alarmed). Mr. Pozzo! Come back! We won't hurt you!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    We might try him with other names.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm afraid he's dying.
    ESTRAGON:
    It'd be amusing.
    VLADIMIR:
    What'd be amusing?
    ESTRAGON:
    To try him with other names, one after the other. It'd pass the time. And we'd be bound to hit on the right one sooner or later.
    VLADIMIR:
    I tell you his name is Pozzo.
    ESTRAGON:
    We'll soon see. (He reflects.) Abel! Abel!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Got it in one!
    VLADIMIR:
    I begin to weary of this motif.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps the other is called Cain. Cain! Cain!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    He's all humanity. (Silence.) Look at the little cloud.
    VLADIMIR:
    (raising his eyes). Where?
    ESTRAGON:
    There. In the zenith.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well? (Pause.) What is there so wonderful about it?
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's pass on now to something else, do you mind?
    VLADIMIR:
    I was just going to suggest it.
    ESTRAGON:
    But to what?
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Suppose we got up to begin with?
    VLADIMIR:
    No harm trying.
    They get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Child's play.
    VLADIMIR:
    Simple question of will-power.
    ESTRAGON:
    And now?
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    What about helping him?
    ESTRAGON:
    What does he want?
    VLADIMIR:
    He wants to get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then why doesn't he?
    VLADIMIR:
    He wants us to help him get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then why don't we? What are we waiting for?
    They help Pozzo to his feet, let him go. He falls.
    VLADIMIR:
    We must hold him. (They get him up again. Pozzo sags between them, his arms round their necks.) #

    Feeling better?
    POZZO:
    Who are you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you not recognize us?
    POZZO:
    I am blind.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps he can see into the future.
    VLADIMIR:
    Since when?
    POZZO:
    I used to have wonderful sight— but are you friends?
    ESTRAGON:
    (laughing noisily). He wants to know if we are friends!
    VLADIMIR:
    No, he means friends of his.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well?
    VLADIMIR:
    We've proved we are, by helping him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Exactly. Would we have helped him if we weren't his friends?
    VLADIMIR:
    Possibly.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't let's quibble about that now.
    POZZO:
    You are not highwaymen?
    ESTRAGON:
    Highwaymen! Do we look like highwaymen?
    VLADIMIR:
    Damn it, can't you see the man is blind!
    ESTRAGON:
    Damn it, so he is. (Pause.) So he says.
    POZZO:
    Don't leave me!
    VLADIMIR:
    No question of it.
    ESTRAGON:
    For the moment.
    POZZO:
    What time is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    (inspecting the sky). Seven o'clock . . . eight o'clock . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    That depends what time of year it is.
    POZZO:
    Is it evening?
    Silence. Vladimir and Estragon scrutinize the sunset.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's rising.
    VLADIMIR:
    Impossible.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps it's the dawn.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't be a fool. It's the west over there.
    ESTRAGON:
    How do you know?
    POZZO:
    (anguished). Is it evening?
    VLADIMIR:
    Anyway, it hasn't moved.
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you it's rising.
    POZZO:
    Why don't you answer me?
    ESTRAGON:
    Give us a chance.
    VLADIMIR:
    (reassuring). It's evening, Sir, it's evening, night is drawing nigh. My friend here would have me doubt it and I must confess he shook me for a moment. But it is not for nothing I have lived through this long day and I can assure you it is very near the end of its repertory. (Pause.) How do you feel now?
    ESTRAGON:
    How much longer are we to cart him around? (They half release him, catch him again as he falls.) We are not caryatids!
    VLADIMIR:
    You were saying your sight used to be good, if I heard you right.
    POZZO:
    Wonderful! Wonderful, wonderful sight!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    (irritably). Expand! Expand!
    VLADIMIR:
    Let him alone. Can't you see he's thinking of the days when he was happy. (Pause.) Memoria praeteritorum bonorum— that must be unpleasant.
    ESTRAGON:
    We wouldn't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    And it came on you all of a sudden?
    POZZO:
    Quite wonderful!
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm asking you if it came on you all of a sudden.
    POZZO:
    I woke up one fine day as blind as Fortune. (Pause.) Sometimes I wonder if I'm not still asleep.
    VLADIMIR:
    And when was that?
    POZZO:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    But no later than yesterday—
    POZZO:
    (violently). Don't question me! The blind have no notion of time. The things of time are hidden from them too.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well just fancy that! I could have sworn it was just the opposite.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    POZZO:
    Where are we?
    VLADIMIR:
    I couldn't tell you.
    POZZO:
    It isn't by any chance the place known as the Board?
    VLADIMIR:
    Never heard of it.
    POZZO:
    What is it like?
    VLADIMIR:
    (looking round). It's indescribable. It's like nothing. There's nothing. There's a tree.
    POZZO:
    Then it's not the Board.
    ESTRAGON:
    (sagging). Some diversion!
    POZZO:
    Where is my menial?
    VLADIMIR:
    He's about somewhere.
    POZZO:
    Why doesn't he answer when I call?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know. He seems to be sleeping. Perhaps he's dead.
    POZZO:
    What happened, exactly?
    ESTRAGON:
    Exactly!
    VLADIMIR:
    The two of you slipped. (Pause.) And fell.
    POZZO:
    Go and see is he hurt.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't leave you.
    POZZO:
    You needn't both go.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). You go.
    ESTRAGON:
    After what he did to me? Never!
    POZZO:
    Yes yes, let your friend go, he stinks so. (Silence.) What is he waiting for?
    VLADIMIR:
    What are you waiting for?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm waiting for Godot.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What exactly should he do?
    POZZO:
    Well to begin with he should pull on the rope, as hard as he likes so long as he doesn't strangle him. He usually responds to that. If not he should give him a taste of his boot, in the face and the privates as far as possible.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). You see, you've nothing to be afraid of. It's even an opportunity to revenge yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he defends himself?
    POZZO:
    No no, he never defends himself.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll come flying to the rescue.
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't take your eyes off me.
    He goes towards Lucky.
    VLADIMIR:
    Make sure he's alive before you start. No point in exerting yourself if he's dead.
    ESTRAGON:
    (bending over Lucky). He's breathing.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then let him have it.
    With sudden fury Estragon starts kicking Lucky, hurling abuse at him as he does so. But he hurts his foot and moves away, limping and groaning. Lucky stirs.
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh the brute!
    He sits down on the mound and tries to take off his boot. But he soon desists and disposes himself for sleep, his arms on his knees and his head on his arms.
    POZZO:
    What's gone wrong now?
    VLADIMIR:
    My friend has hurt himself.
    POZZO:
    And Lucky?
    VLADIMIR:
    So it is he?
    POZZO:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    It is Lucky?
    POZZO:
    I don't understand.
    VLADIMIR:
    And you are Pozzo?
    POZZO:
    Certainly I am Pozzo.
    VLADIMIR:
    The same as yesterday?
    POZZO:
    Yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    We met yesterday. (Silence.) Do you not remember?
    POZZO:
    I don't remember having met anyone yesterday. But tomorrow I won't remember having met anyone today. So don't count on me to enlighten you.
    VLADIMIR:
    But—
    POZZO:
    Enough! Up pig!
    VLADIMIR:
    You were bringing him to the fair to sell him. You spoke to us. He danced. He thought. You had your sight.
    POZZO:
    As you please. Let me go! (Vladimir moves away.) Up!
    Lucky gets up, gathers up his burdens.
    VLADIMIR:
    Where do you go from here?
    POZZO:
    On. (Lucky, laden down, takes his place before Pozzo.) Whip! (Lucky puts everything down, looks for whip, finds it, puts it into Pozzo's hand, takes up everything again.) Rope!
    Lucky puts everything down, puts end of rope into Pozzo's hand, takes up everything again.
    VLADIMIR:
    What is there in the bag?
    POZZO:
    Sand. (He jerks the rope.) On!
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't go yet.
    POZZO:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    What do you do when you fall far from help?
    POZZO:
    We wait till we can get up. Then we go on. On!
    VLADIMIR:
    Before you go tell him to sing.
    POZZO:
    Who?
    VLADIMIR:
    Lucky.
    POZZO:
    To sing?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes. Or to think. Or to recite.
    POZZO:
    But he is dumb.
    VLADIMIR:
    Dumb!
    POZZO:
    Dumb. He can't even groan.
    VLADIMIR:
    Dumb! Since when?
    POZZO:
    (suddenly furious.) Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? (Calmer.) They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more. (He jerks the rope.) On!
    Exeunt Pozzo and Lucky. Vladimir follows them to the edge of the stage, looks after them. The noise of falling, reinforced by mimic of Vladimir, announces that they are down again. Silence. Vladimir goes towards Estragon, contemplates him a moment, then shakes him awake.
    ESTRAGON:
    (wild gestures, incoherent words. Finally.) Why will you never let me sleep?
    VLADIMIR:
    I felt lonely.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was dreaming I was happy.
    VLADIMIR:
    That passed the time.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was dreaming that—
    VLADIMIR:
    (violently). Don't tell me! (Silence.) I wonder is he really blind.
    ESTRAGON:
    Blind? Who?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pozzo.
    ESTRAGON:
    Blind?
    VLADIMIR:
    He told us he was blind.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well what about it?
    VLADIMIR:
    It seemed to me he saw us.
    ESTRAGON:
    You dreamt it. (Pause.) Let's go. We can't. Ah! (Pause.) Are you sure it wasn't him?
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    Godot.
    VLADIMIR:
    But who?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not at all! (Less sure.) Not at all! (Still less sure.) Not at all!
    ESTRAGON:
    I suppose I might as well get up. (He gets up painfully.) Ow! Didi!
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know what to think any more.
    ESTRAGON:
    My feet! (He sits down again and tries to take off his boots.) Help me!
    VLADIMIR:
    Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of today? That with Estragon my friend, at this place, until the fall of night, I waited for Godot? That Pozzo passed, with his carrier, and that he spoke to us? Probably. But in all that what truth will there be?
    (Estragon, having struggled with his boots in vain, is dozing off again. Vladimir looks at him.) He'll know nothing. He'll tell me about the blows he received and I'll give him a carrot. (Pause.) Astride of a grave and a difficult birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps. We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. (He listens.) But habit is a great deadener. (He looks again at Estragon.) At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing, let him sleep on. (Pause.) I can't go on! (Pause.) What have I said?
    He goes feverishly to and fro, halts finally at extreme left, broods. Enter Boy right. He halts. Silence.
    BOY:
    Mister . . . (Vladimir turns.) Mister Albert . . .
    VLADIMIR:
    Off we go again. (Pause.) Do you not recognize me?
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    It wasn't you came yesterday.
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    This is your first time.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    You have a message from Mr. Godot.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    He won't come this evening.
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    But he'll come tomorrow.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Without fail.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Did you meet anyone?
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Two other . . . (he hesitates) . . . men?
    BOY:
    I didn't see anyone, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What does he do, Mr. Godot? (Silence.) Do you hear me? #

    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well?
    BOY:
    He does nothing, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    How is your brother?
    BOY:
    He's sick, Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps it was he came yesterday.
    BOY:
    I don't know, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    (softly). Has he a beard, Mr. Godot?
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Fair or . . . (he hesitates) . . . or black?
    BOY:
    I think it's white, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Christ have mercy on us!
    Silence.
    BOY:
    What am I to tell Mr. Godot, Sir?
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell him . . . (he hesitates) . . . tell him you saw me and that . . . (he hesitates) . . . that you saw me. (Pause. Vladimir advances, the Boy recoils. Vladimir halts, the Boy halts. With sudden violence.) You're sure you saw me, you won't come and tell me tomorrow that you never saw me!
    Silence. Vladimir makes a sudden spring forward, the Boy avoids him and exits running. Silence. The sun sets, the moon rises. As in Act 1. Vladimir stands motionless and bowed. Estragon wakes, takes off his boots, gets up with one in each hand and goes and puts them down center front, then goes towards Vladimir.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's wrong with you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Nothing.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    So am I.
    ESTRAGON:
    Was I long asleep?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Where shall we go?
    VLADIMIR:
    Not far.
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh yes, let's go far away from here.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We have to come back tomorrow.
    ESTRAGON:
    What for?
    VLADIMIR:
    To wait for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Silence.) He didn't come?
    VLADIMIR:
    No.
    ESTRAGON:
    And now it's too late.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, now it's night.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if we dropped him? (Pause.) If we dropped him?
    VLADIMIR:
    He'd punish us. (Silence. He looks at the tree.) Everything's dead but the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    (looking at the tree). What is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    It's the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes, but what kind?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know. A willow.
    Estragon draws Vladimir towards the tree. They stand motionless before it. Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why don't we hang ourselves?
    VLADIMIR:
    With what?
    ESTRAGON:
    You haven't got a bit of rope?
    VLADIMIR:
    No.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then we can't.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let's go.
    ESTRAGON:
    Wait, there's my belt.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's too short.
    ESTRAGON:
    You could hang onto my legs.
    VLADIMIR:
    And who'd hang onto mine?
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me all the same. (Estragon loosens the cord that holds up his trousers which, much too big for him, fall about his ankles. They look at the cord.) It might do in a pinch. But is it strong enough?
    ESTRAGON:
    We'll soon see. Here.
    They each take an end of the cord and pull. #

    It breaks. They almost fall.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not worth a curse.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    You say we have to come back tomorrow?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then we can bring a good bit of rope.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Didi?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    I can't go on like this.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's what you think.
    ESTRAGON:
    If we parted? That might be better for us.
    VLADIMIR:
    We'll hang ourselves tomorrow. (Pause.) Unless Godot comes.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he comes?
    VLADIMIR:
    We'll be saved.
    Vladimir takes off his hat (Lucky's), peers inside it, feels about inside it, shakes it, knocks on the crown, puts it on again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well? Shall we go?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull on your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull on your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    You want me to pull off my trousers?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull ON your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    (realizing his trousers are down). True.
    He pulls up his trousers.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well? Shall we go?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes, let's go.
    They do not move.


    Curtain.
    Quote Originally Posted by efrain44 View Post
    Anyone know who the guy in the Cardinals jersey is? I've seen him in pictures on the board and I thought I saw him this year.

  5. #17555

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by gam3g3ni3 View Post
    If gay bashing, racial taunts and blatant threats to lives aren't deleted......
    While true. Those are usually one sentence posts (except for Zafcain).

    This on the other hand is a pure waste of space....but doesn't really matter now since we're going through a page in 15 min.

    EDIT:
    Bitch.
    Quote Originally Posted by mrhand View Post
    Keep on chugging. 788 more posts and you can submit your application.
    PARTYNEXTDOOR for 2014

  6. #17556
    old school xanman86's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    God damnit, Tom.

    Facebook // Twitter // Blog // Tumblr // Instagram
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  7. #17557

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Omg what's going to happen next!?!

  8. #17558
    Coachella Junkie heart cooks brain's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Who is this Estragon I've been reading about?

    do they havve tour dates? are they any good outside?
    Quote Originally Posted by canexplain View Post
    If moles had subways, molestation wouldn't be one of the creepiest words there is ....
    Quote Originally Posted by canexplain View Post
    Eat don't chat ...When I figure out what windlowless is, I'll respond .
    i hear voices in my head and they keep caaaaallin' me

  9. #17559
    Peaceful Oasis TomAz's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    VLADIMIR AND ESTRAGON REUNION COACHELLA 2013
    Quote Originally Posted by efrain44 View Post
    Anyone know who the guy in the Cardinals jersey is? I've seen him in pictures on the board and I thought I saw him this year.

  10. #17560
    Member Godspeed's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by TomAz View Post
    ACT II

    Next day. Same time.


    Same place.
    Estragon's boots front center, heels together, toes splayed.
    Lucky's hat at same place.
    The tree has four or five leaves.
    Enter Vladimir agitatedly. He halts and looks long at the tree, then suddenly begins to move feverishly about the stage. He halts before the boots, picks one up, examines it, sniffs it, manifests disgust, puts it back carefully. Comes and goes. Halts extreme right and gazes into distance off, shading his eyes with his hand. Comes and goes. Halts extreme left, as before. Comes and goes. Halts suddenly and begins to sing loudly.


    VLADIMIR:

    A dog came in–
    Having begun too high he stops, clears his throat, resumes:
    A dog came in the kitchen
    And stole a crust of bread.
    Then cook up with a ladle
    And beat him till he was dead.

    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb–

    He stops, broods, resumes:
    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb
    And wrote upon the tombstone
    For the eyes of dogs to come:

    A dog came in the kitchen
    And stole a crust of bread.
    Then cook up with a ladle
    And beat him till he was dead.

    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb–

    He stops, broods, resumes:
    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb–

    He stops, broods. Softly.
    And dug the dog a tomb . . .
    He remains a moment silent and motionless, then begins to move feverishly about the stage. He halts before the tree, comes and goes, before the boots, comes and goes, halts extreme right, gazes into distance, extreme left, gazes into distance. Enter Estragon right, barefoot, head bowed. He slowly crosses the stage. Vladimir turns and sees him.
    VLADIMIR:
    You again! (Estragon halts but does not raise his head. Vladimir goes towards him.) Come here till I embrace you.
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't touch me!
    Vladimir holds back, pained.
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you want me to go away? (Pause.) Gogo! (Pause. Vladimir observes him attentively.) Did they beat you? (Pause.) Gogo! (Estragon remains silent, head bowed.) Where did you spend the night?
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't touch me! Don't question me! Don't speak to me! Stay with me!
    VLADIMIR:
    Did I ever leave you?
    ESTRAGON:
    You let me go.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look at me. (Estragon does not raise his head. Violently.) Will you look at me!
    Estragon raises his head. They look long at each other, then suddenly embrace, clapping each other on the back. End of the embrace. Estragon, no longer supported, almost falls.
    ESTRAGON:
    What a day!
    VLADIMIR:
    Who beat you? Tell me.
    ESTRAGON:
    Another day done with.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not yet.
    ESTRAGON:
    For me it's over and done with, no matter what happens. (Silence.) I heard you singing.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's right, I remember.
    ESTRAGON:
    That finished me. I said to myself, He's all alone, he thinks I'm gone for ever, and he sings.
    VLADIMIR:
    One is not master of one's moods. All day I've felt in great form. (Pause.) I didn't get up in the night, not once!
    ESTRAGON:
    (sadly). You see, you piss better when I'm not there.
    VLADIMIR:
    I missed you . . . and at the same time I was happy. Isn't that a strange thing?
    ESTRAGON:
    (shocked). Happy?
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps it's not quite the right word.
    ESTRAGON:
    And now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Now? . . . (Joyous.) There you are again . . . (Indifferent.) There we are again. . . (Gloomy.) There I am again.
    ESTRAGON:
    You see, you feel worse when I'm with you. I feel better alone too.
    VLADIMIR:
    (vexed). Then why do you always come crawling back?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, but I do. It's because you don't know how to defend yourself. I wouldn't have let them beat you.
    ESTRAGON:
    You couldn't have stopped them.
    VLADIMIR:
    Why not?
    ESTRAGON:
    There was ten of them.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean before they beat you. I would have stopped you from doing whatever it was you were doing.
    ESTRAGON:
    I wasn't doing anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then why did they beat you?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah no, Gogo, the truth is there are things that escape you that don't escape me, you must feel it yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you I wasn't doing anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps you weren't. But it's the way of doing it that counts, the way of doing it, if you want to go on living.
    ESTRAGON:
    I wasn't doing anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    You must be happy too, deep down, if you only knew it.
    ESTRAGON:
    Happy about what?
    VLADIMIR:
    To be back with me again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Would you say so?
    VLADIMIR:
    Say you are, even if it's not true.
    ESTRAGON:
    What am I to say?
    VLADIMIR:
    Say, I am happy.
    ESTRAGON:
    I am happy.
    VLADIMIR:
    So am I.
    ESTRAGON:
    So am I.
    VLADIMIR:
    We are happy.
    ESTRAGON:
    We are happy. (Silence.) What do we do now, now that we are happy?
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait for Godot. (Estragon groans. Silence.) Things have changed here since yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he doesn't come?
    VLADIMIR:
    (after a moment of bewilderment). We'll see when the time comes. (Pause.) I was saying that things have changed here since yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    Everything oozes.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look at the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's never the same pus from one second to the next.
    VLADIMIR:
    The tree, look at the tree.
    Estragon looks at the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    Was it not there yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes of course it was there. Do you not remember? We nearly hanged ourselves from it. But you wouldn't. Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    You dreamt it.
    VLADIMIR:
    Is it possible you've forgotten already?
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the way I am. Either I forget immediately or I never forget.
    VLADIMIR:
    And Pozzo and Lucky, have you forgotten them too?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo and Lucky?
    VLADIMIR:
    He's forgotten everything!
    ESTRAGON:
    I remember a lunatic who kicked the shins off me. Then he played the fool.
    VLADIMIR:
    That was Lucky.
    ESTRAGON:
    I remember that. But when was it?
    VLADIMIR:
    And his keeper, do you not remember him?
    ESTRAGON:
    He gave me a bone.
    VLADIMIR:
    That was Pozzo.
    ESTRAGON:
    And all that was yesterday, you say?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes of course it was yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    And here where we are now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Where else do you think? Do you not recognize the place?
    ESTRAGON:
    (suddenly furious). Recognize! What is there to recognize? All my lousy life I've crawled about in the mud! And you talk to me about scenery! (Looking wildly about him.) Look at this muckheap! I've never stirred from it!
    VLADIMIR:
    Calm yourself, calm yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    You and your landscapes! Tell me about the worms!
    VLADIMIR:
    All the same, you can't tell me that this (gesture) bears any resemblance to . . . (he hesitates) . . . to the Macon country for example. You can't deny there's a big difference.
    ESTRAGON:
    The Macon country! Who's talking to you about the Macon country?
    VLADIMIR:
    But you were there yourself, in the Macon country.
    ESTRAGON:
    No I was never in the Macon country! I've puked my puke of a life away here, I tell you! Here! In the Cackon country!
    VLADIMIR:
    But we were there together, I could swear to it! Picking grapes for a man called . . . (he snaps his fingers) . . . can't think of the name of the man, at a place called . . . (snaps his fingers) . . . can't think of the name of the place, do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    (a little calmer). It's possible. I didn't notice anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    But down there everything is red!
    ESTRAGON:
    (exasperated). I didn't notice anything, I tell you!
    Silence. Vladimir sighs deeply.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're a hard man to get on with, Gogo.
    ESTRAGON:
    It'd be better if we parted.
    VLADIMIR:
    You always say that and you always come crawling back.
    ESTRAGON:
    The best thing would be to kill me, like the other.
    VLADIMIR:
    What other? (Pause.) What other?
    ESTRAGON:
    Like billions of others.
    VLADIMIR:
    (sententious). To every man his little cross. (He sighs.) Till he dies. (Afterthought.) And is forgotten.
    ESTRAGON:
    In the meantime let us try and converse calmly, since we are incapable of keeping silent.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're right, we're inexhaustible.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's so we won't think.
    VLADIMIR:
    We have that excuse.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's so we won't hear.
    VLADIMIR:
    We have our reasons.
    ESTRAGON:
    All the dead voices.
    VLADIMIR:
    They make a noise like wings.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    VLADIMIR:
    Like sand.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    They all speak at once.
    ESTRAGON:
    Each one to itself.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Rather they whisper.
    ESTRAGON:
    They rustle.
    VLADIMIR:
    They murmur.
    ESTRAGON:
    They rustle.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What do they say?
    ESTRAGON:
    They talk about their lives.
    VLADIMIR:
    To have lived is not enough for them.
    ESTRAGON:
    They have to talk about it.
    VLADIMIR:
    To be dead is not enough for them.
    ESTRAGON:
    It is not sufficient.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    They make a noise like feathers.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    VLADIMIR:
    Likes ashes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    Long silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Say something!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm trying.
    Long silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    (in anguish). Say anything at all!
    ESTRAGON:
    What do we do now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    This is awful!
    ESTRAGON:
    Sing something.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no! (He reflects.) We could start all over again perhaps.
    ESTRAGON:
    That should be easy.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's the start that's difficult.
    ESTRAGON:
    You can start from anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but you have to decide.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Help me!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm trying.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    When you seek you hear.
    ESTRAGON:
    You do.
    VLADIMIR:
    That prevents you from finding.
    ESTRAGON:
    It does.
    VLADIMIR:
    That prevents you from thinking.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think all the same.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no, it's impossible.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the idea, let's contradict each another.
    VLADIMIR:
    Impossible.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think so?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're in no danger of ever thinking any more.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then what are we complaining about?
    VLADIMIR:
    Thinking is not the worst.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps not. But at least there's that.
    VLADIMIR:
    That what?
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the idea, let's ask each other questions.
    VLADIMIR:
    What do you mean, at least there's that?
    ESTRAGON:
    That much less misery.
    VLADIMIR:
    True.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well? If we gave thanks for our mercies?
    VLADIMIR:
    What is terrible is to have thought.
    ESTRAGON:
    But did that ever happen to us?
    VLADIMIR:
    Where are all these corpses from?
    ESTRAGON:
    These skeletons.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell me that.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    We must have thought a little.
    ESTRAGON:
    At the very beginning.
    VLADIMIR:
    A charnel-house! A charnel-house!
    ESTRAGON:
    You don't have to look.
    VLADIMIR:
    You can't help looking.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try as one may.
    ESTRAGON:
    I beg your pardon?
    VLADIMIR:
    Try as one may.
    ESTRAGON:
    We should turn resolutely towards Nature.
    VLADIMIR:
    We've tried that.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh it's not the worst, I know.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    To have thought.
    ESTRAGON:
    Obviously.
    VLADIMIR:
    But we could have done without it.
    ESTRAGON:
    Que voulez-vous?
    VLADIMIR:
    I beg your pardon?
    ESTRAGON:
    Que voulez-vouz.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah! que voulez-vous. Exactly.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    That wasn't such a bad little canter.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but now we'll have to find something else.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let me see.
    He takes off his hat, concentrates.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let me see. (He takes off his hat, concentrates. Long silence.) Ah!
    They put on their hats, relax.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well?
    VLADIMIR:
    What was I saying, we could go on from there.
    ESTRAGON:
    What were you saying when?
    VLADIMIR:
    At the very beginning.
    ESTRAGON:
    The very beginning of WHAT?
    VLADIMIR:
    This evening . . . I was saying . . . I was saying . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm not a historian.
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait . . . we embraced . . . we were happy . . . happy . . . what do we do now that we're happy . . . go on waiting . . . waiting . . . let me think . . . it's coming . . . go on waiting . . . now that we're happy . . . let me see . . . ah! The tree!
    ESTRAGON:
    The tree?
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm tired.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look at it.
    They look at the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    I see nothing.
    VLADIMIR:
    But yesterday evening it was all black and bare. And now it's covered with leaves.
    ESTRAGON:
    Leaves?
    VLADIMIR:
    In a single night.
    ESTRAGON:
    It must be the Spring.
    VLADIMIR:
    But in a single night!
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you we weren't here yesterday. Another of your nightmares.
    VLADIMIR:
    And where were we yesterday evening according to you?
    ESTRAGON:
    How would I know? In another compartment. There's no lack of void.
    VLADIMIR:
    (sure of himself). Good. We weren't here yesterday evening. Now what did we do yesterday evening?
    ESTRAGON:
    Do?
    VLADIMIR:
    Try and remember.
    ESTRAGON:
    Do . . . I suppose we blathered.
    VLADIMIR:
    (controlling himself). About what?
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh . . . this and that I suppose, nothing in particular. (With assurance.) Yes, now I remember, yesterday evening we spent blathering about nothing in particular. That's been going on now for half a century.
    VLADIMIR:
    You don't remember any fact, any circumstance?
    ESTRAGON:
    (weary). Don't torment me, Didi.
    VLADIMIR:
    The sun. The moon. Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    They must have been there, as usual.
    VLADIMIR:
    You didn't notice anything out of the ordinary?
    ESTRAGON:
    Alas!
    VLADIMIR:
    And Pozzo? And Lucky?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo?
    VLADIMIR:
    The bones.
    ESTRAGON:
    They were like fishbones.
    VLADIMIR:
    It was Pozzo gave them to you.
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    And the kick.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's right, someone gave me a kick.
    VLADIMIR:
    It was Lucky gave it to you.
    ESTRAGON:
    And all that was yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me your leg.
    ESTRAGON:
    Which?
    VLADIMIR:
    Both. Pull up your trousers. (Estragon gives a leg to Vladimir, staggers. Vladimir takes the leg. They stagger.) Pull up your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    I can't.
    Vladimir pulls up the trousers, looks at the leg, lets it go. Estragon almost falls.
    VLADIMIR:
    The other. (Estragon gives the same leg.) The other, pig! (Estragon gives the other leg. Triumphantly.) There's the wound! Beginning to fester!
    ESTRAGON:
    And what about it?
    VLADIMIR:
    (letting go the leg). Where are your boots?
    ESTRAGON:
    I must have thrown them away.
    VLADIMIR:
    When?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    Why?
    ESTRAGON:
    (exasperated). I don't know why I don't know!
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean why did you throw them away?
    ESTRAGON:
    (exasperated). Because they were hurting me!
    VLADIMIR:
    (triumphantly, pointing to the boots). There they are! (Estragon looks at the boots.) At the very spot where you left them yesterday!
    Estragon goes towards the boots, inspects them closely.
    ESTRAGON:
    They're not mine.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stupefied). Not yours!
    ESTRAGON:
    Mine were black. These are brown.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're sure yours were black?
    ESTRAGON:
    Well they were a kind of gray.
    VLADIMIR:
    And these are brown. Show me.
    ESTRAGON:
    (picking up a boot). Well they're a kind of green.
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me. (Estragon hands him the boot. Vladimir inspects it, throws it down angrily.) Well of all the—
    ESTRAGON:
    You see, all that's a lot of bloody—
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah! I see what it is. Yes, I see what's happened.
    ESTRAGON:
    All that's a lot of bloody—
    VLADIMIR:
    It's elementary. Someone came and took yours and left you his.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why?
    VLADIMIR:
    His were too tight for him, so he took yours.
    ESTRAGON:
    But mine were too tight.
    VLADIMIR:
    For you. Not for him.
    ESTRAGON:
    (having tried in vain to work it out). I'm tired! (Pause.) Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Pause. Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
    VLADIMIR:
    There's nothing we can do.
    ESTRAGON:
    But I can't go on like this!
    VLADIMIR:
    Would you like a radish?
    ESTRAGON:
    Is that all there is?
    VLADIMIR:
    There are radishes and turnips.
    ESTRAGON:
    Are there no carrots?
    VLADIMIR:
    No. Anyway you overdo it with your carrots.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then give me a radish. (Vladimir fumbles in his pockets, finds nothing but turnips, finally brings out a radish and hands it to Estragon who examines it, sniffs it.) It's black!
    VLADIMIR:
    It's a radish.
    ESTRAGON:
    I only like the pink ones, you know that!
    VLADIMIR:
    Then you don't want it?
    ESTRAGON:
    I only like the pink ones!
    VLADIMIR:
    Then give it back to me.
    Estragon gives it back.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'll go and get a carrot.
    He does not move.
    VLADIMIR:
    This is becoming really insignificant.
    ESTRAGON:
    Not enough.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What about trying them.
    ESTRAGON:
    I've tried everything.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean the boots.
    ESTRAGON:
    Would that be a good thing?
    VLADIMIR:
    It'd pass the time. (Estragon hesitates.) I assure you, it'd be an occupation.
    ESTRAGON:
    A relaxation.
    VLADIMIR:
    A recreation.
    ESTRAGON:
    A relaxation.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try.
    ESTRAGON:
    You'll help me?
    VLADIMIR:
    I will of course.
    ESTRAGON:
    We don't manage too badly, eh Didi, between the two of us?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes yes. Come on, we'll try the left first.
    ESTRAGON:
    We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist?
    VLADIMIR:
    (impatiently). Yes yes, we're magicians. But let us persevere in what we have resolved, before we forget. (He picks up a boot.) Come on, give me your foot. (Estragon raises his foot.) The other, hog! (Estragon raises the other foot.) Higher! #

    (Wreathed together they stagger about the stage. Vladimir succeeds finally in getting on the boot.) Try and walk. (Estragon walks.) Well?
    ESTRAGON:
    It fits.
    VLADIMIR:
    (taking string from his pocket). We'll try and lace it.
    ESTRAGON:
    (vehemently). No no, no laces, no laces!
    VLADIMIR:
    You'll be sorry. Let's try the other. (As before.) Well?
    ESTRAGON:
    (grudgingly). It fits too.
    VLADIMIR:
    They don't hurt you?
    ESTRAGON:
    Not yet.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then you can keep them.
    ESTRAGON:
    They're too big.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps you'll have socks some day.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then you'll keep them?
    ESTRAGON:
    That's enough about these boots.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but—
    ESTRAGON:
    (violently). Enough! (Silence.) I suppose I might as well sit down.
    He looks for a place to sit down, then goes and sits down on the mound.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's where you were sitting yesterday evening.
    ESTRAGON:
    If I could only sleep.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yesterday you slept.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'll try.
    He resumes his foetal posture, his head between his knees.
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait. (He goes over and sits down beside Estragon and begins to sing in a loud voice.)
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye– #





    ESTRAGON:
    (looking up angrily). Not so loud!
    VLADIMIR:
    (softly).
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye . . .
    Estragon sleeps. Vladimir gets up softly, takes off his coat and lays it across Estragon's shoulders, then starts walking up and down, swinging his arms to keep himself warm. Estragon wakes with a start, jumps up, casts about wildly. Vladimir runs to him, puts his arms around him.) There . . . there . . . Didi is here . . . don't be afraid . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    VLADIMIR:
    There . . . there . . . it's all over.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was falling—
    VLADIMIR:
    It's all over, it's all over.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was on top of a—
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't tell me! Come, we'll walk it off.
    He takes Estragon by the arm and walks him up and down until Estragon refuses to go any further.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's enough. I'm tired.
    VLADIMIR:
    You'd rather be stuck there doing nothing?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    Please yourself.
    He releases Estragon, picks up his coat and puts it on.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Vladimir walks up and down.) Can you not stay still?
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm cold.
    ESTRAGON:
    We came too soon.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's always at nightfall.
    ESTRAGON:
    But night doesn't fall.
    VLADIMIR:
    It'll fall all of a sudden, like yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then it'll be night.
    VLADIMIR:
    And we can go.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then it'll be day again. (Pause. Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
    VLADIMIR:
    (halting, violently). Will you stop whining! I've had about my bellyful of your lamentations!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    (seeing Lucky's hat). Well!
    ESTRAGON:
    Farewell.
    VLADIMIR:
    Lucky's hat. (He goes towards it.) I've been here an hour and never saw it. (Very pleased.) Fine!
    ESTRAGON:
    You'll never see me again.
    VLADIMIR:
    I knew it was the right place. Now our troubles are over. (He picks up the hat, contemplates it, straightens it.) Must have been a very fine hat. (He puts it on in place of his own which he hands to Estragon.) Here.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Hold that.
    Estragon takes Vladimir's hat. Vladimir adjusts Lucky's hat on his head. Estragon puts on Vladimir's hat in place of his own which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes Estragon's hat. Estragon adjusts Vladimir's hat on his head. Vladimir puts on Estragon's hat in place of Lucky's which he hands to Estragon. Estragon takes Lucky's hat. Vladimir adjusts Estragon's hat on his head. Estragon puts on Lucky's hat in place of Vladimir's which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes his hat, Estragon adjusts Lucky's hat on his head. Vladimir puts on his hat in place of Estragon's which he hands to Estragon. Estragon takes his hat. Vladimir adjusts his hat on his head. Estragon puts on his hat in place of Lucky's which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes Lucky's hat. Estragon adjusts his hat on his head. Vladimir puts on Lucky's hat in place of his own which he hands to Estragon. Estragon takes Vladimir's hat. Vladimir adjusts Lucky's hat on his head. Estragon hands Vladimir's hat back to Vladimir who takes it and hands it back to Estragon who takes it and hands it back to Vladimir who takes it and throws it down.
    How does it fit me?
    ESTRAGON:
    How would I know?
    VLADIMIR:
    No, but how do I look in it?
    He turns his head coquettishly to and fro, minces like a mannequin.
    ESTRAGON:
    Hideous.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but not more so than usual?
    ESTRAGON:
    Neither more nor less.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then I can keep it. Mine irked me. (Pause.) How shall I say? (Pause.) It itched me.
    He takes off Lucky's hat, peers into it, shakes it, knocks on the crown, puts it on again.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Will you not play?
    ESTRAGON:
    Play at what?
    VLADIMIR:
    We could play at Pozzo and Lucky.
    ESTRAGON:
    Never heard of it.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll do Lucky, you do Pozzo. (He imitates Lucky sagging under the weight of his baggage. Estragon looks at him with stupefaction.) Go on.
    ESTRAGON:
    What am I to do?
    VLADIMIR:
    Curse me!
    ESTRAGON:
    (after reflection). Naughty!
    VLADIMIR:
    Stronger!
    ESTRAGON:
    Gonococcus! Spirochete!
    Vladimir sways back and forth, doubled in two.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell me to think.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Say, Think, pig!
    ESTRAGON:
    Think, pig!
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    I can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's enough of that.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell me to dance.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Dance, hog! (He writhes. Exit Estragon left, precipitately.) I can't! (He looks up, misses Estragon.) Gogo! (He moves wildly about the stage. Enter Estragon left, panting. He hastens towards Vladimir, falls into his arms.) There you are again at last!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm accursed!
    VLADIMIR:
    Where were you? I thought you were gone for ever.
    ESTRAGON:
    They're coming!
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    How many?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    (triumphantly). It's Godot! At last! Gogo! It's Godot! We're saved! Let's go and meet him! (He drags Estragon towards the wings. Estragon resists, pulls himself free, exit right.) Gogo! Come back! (Vladimir runs to extreme left, scans the horizon. Enter Estragon right, he hastens towards Vladimir, falls into his arms.) There you are again again!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm in hell!
    VLADIMIR:
    Where were you?
    ESTRAGON:
    They're coming there too!
    VLADIMIR:
    We're surrounded! (Estragon makes a rush towards back.) Imbecile! There's no way out there. (He takes Estragon by the arm and drags him towards front. Gesture towards front.) There! Not a soul in sight! Off you go! Quick! (He pushes Estragon towards auditorium. Estragon recoils in horror.) You won't? (He contemplates auditorium.) Well I can understand that. Wait till I see. (He reflects.) Your only hope left is to disappear.
    ESTRAGON:
    Where?
    VLADIMIR:
    Behind the tree. (Estragon hesitates.) Quick! Behind the tree. (Estragon goes and crouches behind the tree, realizes he is not hidden, comes out from behind the tree.) Decidedly this tree will not have been the slightest use to us.
    ESTRAGON:
    (calmer). I lost my head. Forgive me. It won't happen again. Tell me what to do.
    VLADIMIR:
    There's nothing to do.
    ESTRAGON:
    You go and stand there. (He draws Vladimir to extreme right and places him with his back to the stage.) There, don't move, and watch out. (Vladimir scans horizon, screening his eyes with his hand. Estragon runs and takes up same position extreme left. They turn their heads and look at each other.) Back to back like in the good old days. (They continue to look at each other for a moment, then resume their watch. Long silence.) Do you see anything coming?
    VLADIMIR:
    (turning his head). What?
    ESTRAGON:
    (louder). Do you see anything coming?
    VLADIMIR:
    No.
    ESTRAGON:
    Nor I.
    They resume their watch. Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    You must have had a vision.
    ESTRAGON:
    (turning his head). What?
    VLADIMIR:
    (louder). You must have had a vision.
    ESTRAGON:
    No need to shout!
    They resume their watch. Silence.
    VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
    (turning simultaneously). Do you—
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh pardon!
    ESTRAGON:
    Carry on.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no, after you.
    ESTRAGON:
    No no, you first.
    VLADIMIR:
    I interrupted you.
    ESTRAGON:
    On the contrary.
    They glare at each other angrily.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ceremonious ape!
    ESTRAGON:
    Punctilious pig!
    VLADIMIR:
    Finish your phrase, I tell you!
    ESTRAGON:
    Finish your own!
    Silence. They draw closer, halt.
    VLADIMIR:
    Moron!
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the idea, let's abuse each other.
    They turn, move apart, turn again and face each other.
    VLADIMIR:
    Moron!
    ESTRAGON:
    Vermin!
    VLADIMIR:
    Abortion!
    ESTRAGON:
    Morpion!
    VLADIMIR:
    Sewer-rat!
    ESTRAGON:
    Curate!
    VLADIMIR:
    Cretin!
    ESTRAGON:
    (with finality). Crritic!
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh!
    He wilts, vanquished, and turns away.
    ESTRAGON:
    Now let's make it up.
    VLADIMIR:
    Gogo!
    ESTRAGON:
    Didi!
    VLADIMIR:
    Your hand!
    ESTRAGON:
    Take it!
    VLADIMIR:
    Come to my arms!
    ESTRAGON:
    Yours arms?
    VLADIMIR:
    My breast!
    ESTRAGON:
    Off we go!
    They embrace. #

    They separate. Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    How time flies when one has fun!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    What do we do now?
    VLADIMIR:
    While waiting.
    ESTRAGON:
    While waiting.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    We could do our exercises.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our movements.
    VLADIMIR:
    Our elevations.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our relaxations.
    VLADIMIR:
    Our elongations.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our relaxations.
    VLADIMIR:
    To warm us up.
    ESTRAGON:
    To calm us down.
    VLADIMIR:
    Off we go.
    Vladimir hops from one foot to the other. Estragon imitates him.
    ESTRAGON:
    (stopping). That's enough. I'm tired.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stopping). We're not in form. What about a little deep breathing?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm tired breathing.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're right. (Pause.) Let's just do the tree, for the balance.
    ESTRAGON:
    The tree?
    Vladimir does the tree, staggering about on one leg.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stopping). Your turn.
    Estragon does the tree, staggers.
    ESTRAGON:
    Do you think God sees me?
    VLADIMIR:
    You must close your eyes.
    Estragon closes his eyes, staggers worse.
    ESTRAGON:
    (stopping, brandishing his fists, at the top of his voice.) God have pity on me!
    VLADIMIR:
    (vexed). And me?
    ESTRAGON:
    On me! On me! Pity! On me!
    Enter Pozzo and Lucky. Pozzo is blind. Lucky burdened as before. Rope as before, but much shorter, so that Pozzo may follow more easily. Lucky wearing a different hat. At the sight of Vladimir and Estragon he stops short. Pozzo, continuing on his way, bumps into him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Gogo!
    POZZO:
    (clutching onto Lucky who staggers). What is it? Who is it?
    Lucky falls, drops everything and brings down Pozzo with him. They lie helpless among the scattered baggage.
    ESTRAGON:
    Is it Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    At last! (He goes towards the heap.) Reinforcements at last!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Is it Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    We were beginning to weaken. Now we're sure to see the evening out.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Do you hear him?
    VLADIMIR:
    We are no longer alone, waiting for the night, waiting for Godot, waiting for . . . waiting. All evening we have struggled, unassisted. Now it's over. It's already tomorrow.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    Time flows again already. The sun will set, the moon rise, and we away . . . from here.
    POZZO:
    Pity!
    VLADIMIR:
    Poor Pozzo!
    ESTRAGON:
    I knew it was him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    Godot.
    VLADIMIR:
    But it's not Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's not Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    It's not Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then who is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    It's Pozzo.
    POZZO:
    Here! Here! Help me up!
    VLADIMIR:
    He can't get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps he has another bone for you.
    ESTRAGON:
    Bone?
    VLADIMIR:
    Chicken. Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    It was him?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ask him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps we should help him first.
    ESTRAGON:
    To do what?
    VLADIMIR:
    To get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    He can't get up?
    VLADIMIR:
    He wants to get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then let him get up.
    VLADIMIR:
    He can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know.
    Pozzo writhes, groans, beats the ground with his fists.
    ESTRAGON:
    We should ask him for the bone first. Then if he refuses we'll leave him there.
    VLADIMIR:
    You mean we have him at our mercy?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    And that we should subordinate our good offices to certain conditions?
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    That seems intelligent all right. But there's one thing I'm afraid of.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    That Lucky might get going all of a sudden. Then we'd be ballocksed.
    ESTRAGON:
    Lucky?
    VLADIMIR:
    The one that went for you yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you there was ten of them.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, before that, the one that kicked you.
    ESTRAGON:
    Is he there?
    VLADIMIR:
    As large as life. (Gesture towards Lucky.) For the moment he is inert. But he might run amuck any minute.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    And suppose we gave him a good beating, the two of us.
    VLADIMIR:
    You mean if we fell on him in his sleep?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    That seems a good idea all right. But could we do it? Is he really asleep? (Pause.) No, the best would be to take advantage of Pozzo's calling for help—
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    To help him—
    ESTRAGON:
    We help him?
    VLADIMIR:
    In anticipation of some tangible return.
    ESTRAGON:
    And suppose he—
    VLADIMIR:
    Let us not waste our time in idle discourse! (Pause. Vehemently.) Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us! What do you say? (Estragon says nothing.) It is true that when with folded arms we weigh the pros and cons we are no less a credit to our species. The tiger bounds to the help of his congeners without the least reflection, or else he slinks away into the depths of the thickets. But that is not the question. What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in this immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come—
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    Or for night to fall. (Pause.) We have kept our appointment and that's an end to that. We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much?
    ESTRAGON:
    Billions.
    VLADIMIR:
    You think so?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    You may be right.
    POZZO:
    Help! #



    VLADIMIR:
    All I know is that the hours are long, under these conditions, and constrain us to beguile them with proceedings which –how shall I say– which may at first sight seem reasonable, until they become a habit. You may say it is to prevent our reason from foundering. No doubt. But has it not long been straying in the night without end of the abyssal depths? That's what I sometimes wonder. You follow my reasoning?
    ESTRAGON:
    (aphoristic for once). We are all born mad. Some remain so.
    POZZO:
    Help! I'll pay you!
    ESTRAGON:
    How much?
    POZZO:
    One hundred francs!
    ESTRAGON:
    It's not enough.
    VLADIMIR:
    I wouldn't go so far as that.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think it's enough?
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean so far as to assert that I was weak in the head when I came into the world. But that is not the question.
    POZZO:
    Two hundred!
    VLADIMIR:
    We wait. We are bored. (He throws up his hand.) No, don't protest, we are bored to death, there's no denying it. Good. A diversion comes along and what do we do? We let it go to waste. Come, let's get to work! (He advances towards the heap, stops in his stride.) In an instant all will vanish and we'll be alone once more, in the midst of nothingness!
    He broods.
    POZZO:
    Two hundred!
    VLADIMIR:
    We're coming!
    He tries to pull Pozzo to his feet, fails, tries again, stumbles, falls, tries to get up, fails.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's the matter with you all?
    VLADIMIR:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't leave me! They'll kill me!
    POZZO:
    Where am I?
    VLADIMIR:
    Gogo!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Help me up first, then we'll go together.
    ESTRAGON:
    You promise?
    VLADIMIR:
    I swear it!
    ESTRAGON:
    And we'll never come back?
    VLADIMIR:
    Never!
    ESTRAGON:
    We'll go to the Pyrenees.
    VLADIMIR:
    Wherever you like.
    ESTRAGON:
    I've always wanted to wander in the Pyrenees.
    VLADIMIR:
    You'll wander in them.
    ESTRAGON:
    (recoiling). Who farted?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pozzo.
    POZZO:
    Here! Here! Pity!
    ESTRAGON:
    It's revolting!
    VLADIMIR:
    Quick! Give me your hand!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going. (Pause. Louder.) I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well I suppose in the end I'll get up by myself. (He tries, fails.) In the fullness of time.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's the matter with you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Go to hell.
    ESTRAGON:
    Are you staying there?
    VLADIMIR:
    For the time being.
    ESTRAGON:
    Come on, get up, you'll catch a chill.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't worry about me.
    ESTRAGON:
    Come on, Didi, don't be pig-headed!
    He stretches out his hand which Vladimir makes haste to seize.
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull!
    Estragon pulls, stumbles, falls. Long silence.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    We've arrived.
    POZZO:
    Who are you?
    VLADIMIR:
    We are men.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Sweet mother earth!
    VLADIMIR:
    Can you get up?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try.
    ESTRAGON:
    Not now, not now.
    Silence.
    POZZO:
    What happened?
    VLADIMIR:
    (violently). Will you stop it, you! Pest! He can think of nothing but himself!
    ESTRAGON:
    What about a little snooze?
    VLADIMIR:
    Did you hear him? He wants to know what happened!
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't mind him. Sleep.
    Silence.
    POZZO:
    Pity! Pity!
    ESTRAGON:
    (with a start). What is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    Were you asleep?
    ESTRAGON:
    I must have been.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's this bastard Pozzo at it again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Make him stop it. Kick him in the crotch.
    VLADIMIR:
    (striking Pozzo). Will you stop it! Crablouse! (Pozzo extricates himself with cries of pain and crawls away. He stops, saws the air blindly, calling for help. Vladimir, propped on his elbow, observes his retreat.) He's off! (Pozzo collapses.) He's down!
    #


    ESTRAGON:
    What do we do now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps I could crawl to him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't leave me!
    VLADIMIR:
    Or I could call to him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes, call to him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Pozzo! (Silence.) Pozzo! (Silence.) No reply.
    ESTRAGON:
    Together.
    VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo! Pozzo!
    VLADIMIR:
    He moved.
    ESTRAGON:
    Are you sure his name is Pozzo?
    VLADIMIR:
    (alarmed). Mr. Pozzo! Come back! We won't hurt you!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    We might try him with other names.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm afraid he's dying.
    ESTRAGON:
    It'd be amusing.
    VLADIMIR:
    What'd be amusing?
    ESTRAGON:
    To try him with other names, one after the other. It'd pass the time. And we'd be bound to hit on the right one sooner or later.
    VLADIMIR:
    I tell you his name is Pozzo.
    ESTRAGON:
    We'll soon see. (He reflects.) Abel! Abel!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Got it in one!
    VLADIMIR:
    I begin to weary of this motif.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps the other is called Cain. Cain! Cain!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    He's all humanity. (Silence.) Look at the little cloud.
    VLADIMIR:
    (raising his eyes). Where?
    ESTRAGON:
    There. In the zenith.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well? (Pause.) What is there so wonderful about it?
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's pass on now to something else, do you mind?
    VLADIMIR:
    I was just going to suggest it.
    ESTRAGON:
    But to what?
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Suppose we got up to begin with?
    VLADIMIR:
    No harm trying.
    They get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Child's play.
    VLADIMIR:
    Simple question of will-power.
    ESTRAGON:
    And now?
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    What about helping him?
    ESTRAGON:
    What does he want?
    VLADIMIR:
    He wants to get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then why doesn't he?
    VLADIMIR:
    He wants us to help him get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then why don't we? What are we waiting for?
    They help Pozzo to his feet, let him go. He falls.
    VLADIMIR:
    We must hold him. (They get him up again. Pozzo sags between them, his arms round their necks.) #

    Feeling better?
    POZZO:
    Who are you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you not recognize us?
    POZZO:
    I am blind.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps he can see into the future.
    VLADIMIR:
    Since when?
    POZZO:
    I used to have wonderful sight— but are you friends?
    ESTRAGON:
    (laughing noisily). He wants to know if we are friends!
    VLADIMIR:
    No, he means friends of his.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well?
    VLADIMIR:
    We've proved we are, by helping him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Exactly. Would we have helped him if we weren't his friends?
    VLADIMIR:
    Possibly.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't let's quibble about that now.
    POZZO:
    You are not highwaymen?
    ESTRAGON:
    Highwaymen! Do we look like highwaymen?
    VLADIMIR:
    Damn it, can't you see the man is blind!
    ESTRAGON:
    Damn it, so he is. (Pause.) So he says.
    POZZO:
    Don't leave me!
    VLADIMIR:
    No question of it.
    ESTRAGON:
    For the moment.
    POZZO:
    What time is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    (inspecting the sky). Seven o'clock . . . eight o'clock . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    That depends what time of year it is.
    POZZO:
    Is it evening?
    Silence. Vladimir and Estragon scrutinize the sunset.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's rising.
    VLADIMIR:
    Impossible.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps it's the dawn.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't be a fool. It's the west over there.
    ESTRAGON:
    How do you know?
    POZZO:
    (anguished). Is it evening?
    VLADIMIR:
    Anyway, it hasn't moved.
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you it's rising.
    POZZO:
    Why don't you answer me?
    ESTRAGON:
    Give us a chance.
    VLADIMIR:
    (reassuring). It's evening, Sir, it's evening, night is drawing nigh. My friend here would have me doubt it and I must confess he shook me for a moment. But it is not for nothing I have lived through this long day and I can assure you it is very near the end of its repertory. (Pause.) How do you feel now?
    ESTRAGON:
    How much longer are we to cart him around? (They half release him, catch him again as he falls.) We are not caryatids!
    VLADIMIR:
    You were saying your sight used to be good, if I heard you right.
    POZZO:
    Wonderful! Wonderful, wonderful sight!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    (irritably). Expand! Expand!
    VLADIMIR:
    Let him alone. Can't you see he's thinking of the days when he was happy. (Pause.) Memoria praeteritorum bonorum— that must be unpleasant.
    ESTRAGON:
    We wouldn't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    And it came on you all of a sudden?
    POZZO:
    Quite wonderful!
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm asking you if it came on you all of a sudden.
    POZZO:
    I woke up one fine day as blind as Fortune. (Pause.) Sometimes I wonder if I'm not still asleep.
    VLADIMIR:
    And when was that?
    POZZO:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    But no later than yesterday—
    POZZO:
    (violently). Don't question me! The blind have no notion of time. The things of time are hidden from them too.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well just fancy that! I could have sworn it was just the opposite.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    POZZO:
    Where are we?
    VLADIMIR:
    I couldn't tell you.
    POZZO:
    It isn't by any chance the place known as the Board?
    VLADIMIR:
    Never heard of it.
    POZZO:
    What is it like?
    VLADIMIR:
    (looking round). It's indescribable. It's like nothing. There's nothing. There's a tree.
    POZZO:
    Then it's not the Board.
    ESTRAGON:
    (sagging). Some diversion!
    POZZO:
    Where is my menial?
    VLADIMIR:
    He's about somewhere.
    POZZO:
    Why doesn't he answer when I call?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know. He seems to be sleeping. Perhaps he's dead.
    POZZO:
    What happened, exactly?
    ESTRAGON:
    Exactly!
    VLADIMIR:
    The two of you slipped. (Pause.) And fell.
    POZZO:
    Go and see is he hurt.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't leave you.
    POZZO:
    You needn't both go.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). You go.
    ESTRAGON:
    After what he did to me? Never!
    POZZO:
    Yes yes, let your friend go, he stinks so. (Silence.) What is he waiting for?
    VLADIMIR:
    What are you waiting for?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm waiting for Godot.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What exactly should he do?
    POZZO:
    Well to begin with he should pull on the rope, as hard as he likes so long as he doesn't strangle him. He usually responds to that. If not he should give him a taste of his boot, in the face and the privates as far as possible.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). You see, you've nothing to be afraid of. It's even an opportunity to revenge yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he defends himself?
    POZZO:
    No no, he never defends himself.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll come flying to the rescue.
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't take your eyes off me.
    He goes towards Lucky.
    VLADIMIR:
    Make sure he's alive before you start. No point in exerting yourself if he's dead.
    ESTRAGON:
    (bending over Lucky). He's breathing.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then let him have it.
    With sudden fury Estragon starts kicking Lucky, hurling abuse at him as he does so. But he hurts his foot and moves away, limping and groaning. Lucky stirs.
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh the brute!
    He sits down on the mound and tries to take off his boot. But he soon desists and disposes himself for sleep, his arms on his knees and his head on his arms.
    POZZO:
    What's gone wrong now?
    VLADIMIR:
    My friend has hurt himself.
    POZZO:
    And Lucky?
    VLADIMIR:
    So it is he?
    POZZO:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    It is Lucky?
    POZZO:
    I don't understand.
    VLADIMIR:
    And you are Pozzo?
    POZZO:
    Certainly I am Pozzo.
    VLADIMIR:
    The same as yesterday?
    POZZO:
    Yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    We met yesterday. (Silence.) Do you not remember?
    POZZO:
    I don't remember having met anyone yesterday. But tomorrow I won't remember having met anyone today. So don't count on me to enlighten you.
    VLADIMIR:
    But—
    POZZO:
    Enough! Up pig!
    VLADIMIR:
    You were bringing him to the fair to sell him. You spoke to us. He danced. He thought. You had your sight.
    POZZO:
    As you please. Let me go! (Vladimir moves away.) Up!
    Lucky gets up, gathers up his burdens.
    VLADIMIR:
    Where do you go from here?
    POZZO:
    On. (Lucky, laden down, takes his place before Pozzo.) Whip! (Lucky puts everything down, looks for whip, finds it, puts it into Pozzo's hand, takes up everything again.) Rope!
    Lucky puts everything down, puts end of rope into Pozzo's hand, takes up everything again.
    VLADIMIR:
    What is there in the bag?
    POZZO:
    Sand. (He jerks the rope.) On!
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't go yet.
    POZZO:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    What do you do when you fall far from help?
    POZZO:
    We wait till we can get up. Then we go on. On!
    VLADIMIR:
    Before you go tell him to sing.
    POZZO:
    Who?
    VLADIMIR:
    Lucky.
    POZZO:
    To sing?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes. Or to think. Or to recite.
    POZZO:
    But he is dumb.
    VLADIMIR:
    Dumb!
    POZZO:
    Dumb. He can't even groan.
    VLADIMIR:
    Dumb! Since when?
    POZZO:
    (suddenly furious.) Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? (Calmer.) They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more. (He jerks the rope.) On!
    Exeunt Pozzo and Lucky. Vladimir follows them to the edge of the stage, looks after them. The noise of falling, reinforced by mimic of Vladimir, announces that they are down again. Silence. Vladimir goes towards Estragon, contemplates him a moment, then shakes him awake.
    ESTRAGON:
    (wild gestures, incoherent words. Finally.) Why will you never let me sleep?
    VLADIMIR:
    I felt lonely.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was dreaming I was happy.
    VLADIMIR:
    That passed the time.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was dreaming that—
    VLADIMIR:
    (violently). Don't tell me! (Silence.) I wonder is he really blind.
    ESTRAGON:
    Blind? Who?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pozzo.
    ESTRAGON:
    Blind?
    VLADIMIR:
    He told us he was blind.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well what about it?
    VLADIMIR:
    It seemed to me he saw us.
    ESTRAGON:
    You dreamt it. (Pause.) Let's go. We can't. Ah! (Pause.) Are you sure it wasn't him?
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    Godot.
    VLADIMIR:
    But who?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not at all! (Less sure.) Not at all! (Still less sure.) Not at all!
    ESTRAGON:
    I suppose I might as well get up. (He gets up painfully.) Ow! Didi!
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know what to think any more.
    ESTRAGON:
    My feet! (He sits down again and tries to take off his boots.) Help me!
    VLADIMIR:
    Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of today? That with Estragon my friend, at this place, until the fall of night, I waited for Godot? That Pozzo passed, with his carrier, and that he spoke to us? Probably. But in all that what truth will there be?
    (Estragon, having struggled with his boots in vain, is dozing off again. Vladimir looks at him.) He'll know nothing. He'll tell me about the blows he received and I'll give him a carrot. (Pause.) Astride of a grave and a difficult birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps. We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. (He listens.) But habit is a great deadener. (He looks again at Estragon.) At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing, let him sleep on. (Pause.) I can't go on! (Pause.) What have I said?
    He goes feverishly to and fro, halts finally at extreme left, broods. Enter Boy right. He halts. Silence.
    BOY:
    Mister . . . (Vladimir turns.) Mister Albert . . .
    VLADIMIR:
    Off we go again. (Pause.) Do you not recognize me?
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    It wasn't you came yesterday.
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    This is your first time.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    You have a message from Mr. Godot.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    He won't come this evening.
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    But he'll come tomorrow.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Without fail.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Did you meet anyone?
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Two other . . . (he hesitates) . . . men?
    BOY:
    I didn't see anyone, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What does he do, Mr. Godot? (Silence.) Do you hear me? #

    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well?
    BOY:
    He does nothing, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    How is your brother?
    BOY:
    He's sick, Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps it was he came yesterday.
    BOY:
    I don't know, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    (softly). Has he a beard, Mr. Godot?
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Fair or . . . (he hesitates) . . . or black?
    BOY:
    I think it's white, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Christ have mercy on us!
    Silence.
    BOY:
    What am I to tell Mr. Godot, Sir?
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell him . . . (he hesitates) . . . tell him you saw me and that . . . (he hesitates) . . . that you saw me. (Pause. Vladimir advances, the Boy recoils. Vladimir halts, the Boy halts. With sudden violence.) You're sure you saw me, you won't come and tell me tomorrow that you never saw me!
    Silence. Vladimir makes a sudden spring forward, the Boy avoids him and exits running. Silence. The sun sets, the moon rises. As in Act 1. Vladimir stands motionless and bowed. Estragon wakes, takes off his boots, gets up with one in each hand and goes and puts them down center front, then goes towards Vladimir.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's wrong with you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Nothing.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    So am I.
    ESTRAGON:
    Was I long asleep?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Where shall we go?
    VLADIMIR:
    Not far.
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh yes, let's go far away from here.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We have to come back tomorrow.
    ESTRAGON:
    What for?
    VLADIMIR:
    To wait for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Silence.) He didn't come?
    VLADIMIR:
    No.
    ESTRAGON:
    And now it's too late.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, now it's night.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if we dropped him? (Pause.) If we dropped him?
    VLADIMIR:
    He'd punish us. (Silence. He looks at the tree.) Everything's dead but the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    (looking at the tree). What is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    It's the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes, but what kind?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know. A willow.
    Estragon draws Vladimir towards the tree. They stand motionless before it. Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why don't we hang ourselves?
    VLADIMIR:
    With what?
    ESTRAGON:
    You haven't got a bit of rope?
    VLADIMIR:
    No.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then we can't.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let's go.
    ESTRAGON:
    Wait, there's my belt.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's too short.
    ESTRAGON:
    You could hang onto my legs.
    VLADIMIR:
    And who'd hang onto mine?
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me all the same. (Estragon loosens the cord that holds up his trousers which, much too big for him, fall about his ankles. They look at the cord.) It might do in a pinch. But is it strong enough?
    ESTRAGON:
    We'll soon see. Here.
    They each take an end of the cord and pull. #

    It breaks. They almost fall.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not worth a curse.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    You say we have to come back tomorrow?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then we can bring a good bit of rope.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Didi?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    I can't go on like this.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's what you think.
    ESTRAGON:
    If we parted? That might be better for us.
    VLADIMIR:
    We'll hang ourselves tomorrow. (Pause.) Unless Godot comes.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he comes?
    VLADIMIR:
    We'll be saved.
    Vladimir takes off his hat (Lucky's), peers inside it, feels about inside it, shakes it, knocks on the crown, puts it on again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well? Shall we go?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull on your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull on your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    You want me to pull off my trousers?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull ON your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    (realizing his trousers are down). True.
    He pulls up his trousers.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well? Shall we go?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes, let's go.
    They do not move.


    Curtain.
    NOYCE.

  11. #17561

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by gswhooper View Post
    While true. Those are usually one sentence posts (except for Zafcain).

    This on the other hand is a pure waste of space....but doesn't really matter now since we're going through a page in 15 min.

    EDIT:
    Bitch.
    Technically everything in here is a huge waste of space. It's just a big community thread at this point.

  12. #17562
    Member thetello's Avatar
    Join Date
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    east coast
    Posts
    656

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by heart cooks brain View Post
    Who is this Estragon I've been reading about?

    do they havve tour dates? are they any good outside?
    they're the support act for beach house's tour.
    Quote Originally Posted by Bomboclat View Post
    Sometimes you just reach that level where the only thing that makes sense is to get buck naked.

  13. #17563

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    GODOT CONFIRMED?!?!?!?!?

  14. #17564
    Coachella Junkie M Sparks's Avatar
    Join Date
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    Phoenix, AZ
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Finally, something worth reading in this vacuum.

  15. #17565

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    I opened this thread and saw


    I dropped my head in dissapoint and turned around to see



    Lost...Frank Ocean, confirms

    Quote Originally Posted by mrhand View Post
    Keep on chugging. 788 more posts and you can submit your application.
    PARTYNEXTDOOR for 2014

  16. #17566
    old school xanman86's Avatar
    Join Date
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by Radtechnique View Post
    NOYCE.
    Fuck you

    Facebook // Twitter // Blog // Tumblr // Instagram
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  17. #17567

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    You insufferable pillocks.

  18. #17568

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Frank Ocean is confirmed not to be back.

  19. #17569
    Coachella Junkie Miroir Noir's Avatar
    Join Date
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    Zip City
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    7,378

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Endgame

    A PLAY IN ONE ACT

    Bare interior.

    Grey Light.

    Left and right back, high up, two small windows, curtains drawn.

    Front right, a door. Hanging near door, its face to wall, a picture.

    Front left, touching each other, covered with an old sheet, two ashbins.

    Center, in an armchair on castors, covered with an old sheet, Faxman.

    Motionless by the door, his eyes fixed on Faxman, Supre. Very red face.

    Brief tableau.


    Supre goes and stands under window left. Stiff, staggering walk. He looks up at window left. He turns and looks at window right. He goes and stands under window right. He looks up at window right. He turns and looks at window left. He goes out, comes back immediately with a small step-ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window left, gets up on it, draws back curtain. He gets down, takes six steps (for example) towards window right, goes back for ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window right, gets up on it, draws back curtain. He gets down, takes three steps towards window left, goes back for ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window left, gets up on it, looks out of window. Brief laugh. He gets down, takes one step towards window right, goes back for ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window right, gets up on it, looks out of window. Brief laugh. He gets down, goes with ladder towards ashbins, halts, turns, carries back ladder and sets it down under window right, goes to ashbins, removes sheet covering them, folds it over his arm. He raises one lid, stoops and looks into bin. Brief laugh. He closes lid. Same with other bin. He goes to Faxman, removes sheet covering him, folds it over his arm. In a dressing-gown, a stiff toque on his head, a large blood-stained handkerchief over his face, a whistle hanging from his neck, a rug over his knees, thick socks on his feet, Faxman seems to be asleep. Supre looks him over. Brief laugh. He goes to door, halts, turns towards auditorium.


    SUPRE (fixed gaze, tonelessly):
    Finished, it's finished, nearly finished, it must be nearly finished.
    (Pause.)
    Grain upon grain, one by one, and one day, suddenly, there's a heap, a little heap, the impossible heap.
    (Pause.)
    I can't be punished any more.
    (Pause.)
    I'll go now to my kitchen, ten feet by ten feet by ten feet, and wait for him to whistle me.
    (Pause.)
    Nice dimensions, nice proportions, I'll lean on the table, and look at the wall, and wait for him to whistle me.
    (He remains a moment motionless, then goes out. He comes back immediately, goes to window right, takes up the ladder and carries it out. Pause. Faxman stirs. He yawns under the handkerchief. He removes the handkerchief from his face. Very red face. Glasses with black lenses.)
    FAXMAN:
    Me—
    (he yawns)
    —to play.
    (He takes off his glasses, wipes his eyes, his face, the glasses, puts them on again, folds the handkerchief and puts it back neatly in the breast pocket of his dressing gown. He clears his throat, joins the tips of his fingers.)
    Can there be misery—
    (he yawns)
    —loftier than mine? No doubt. Formerly. But now?
    (Pause.)
    My father?
    (Pause.)
    My mother?
    (Pause.)
    My... dog?
    (Pause.)
    Oh I am willing to believe they suffer as much as such creatures can suffer. But does that mean their sufferings equal mine? No doubt.
    (Pause.)
    No, all is a—
    (he yawns)
    —bsolute,
    (proudly)
    the bigger a man is the fuller he is.
    (Pause. Gloomily.)
    And the emptier.
    (He sniffs.)
    Supre!
    (Pause.)
    No, alone.
    (Pause.)
    What dreams! Those forests!
    (Pause.)
    Enough, it's time it ended, in the shelter, too.
    (Pause.)
    And yet I hesitate, I hesitate to... to end. Yes, there it is, it's time it ended and yet I hesitate to—
    (He yawns.)
    —to end.
    (Yawns.)
    God, I'm tired, I'd be better off in bed.
    (He whistles. Enter Supre immediately. He halts beside the chair.)
    You pollute the air!
    (Pause.)
    Get me ready, I'm going to bed.
    SUPRE:
    I've just got you up.
    FAXMAN:
    And what of it?
    SUPRE:
    I can't be getting you up and putting you to bed every five minutes, I have things to do.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Did you ever see my eyes?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Did you never have the curiosity, while I was sleeping, to take off my glasses and look at my eyes?
    SUPRE:
    Pulling back the lids?
    (Pause.)
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    One of these days I'll show them to you.
    (Pause.)
    It seems they've gone all white.
    (Pause.)
    What time is it?
    SUPRE:
    The same as usual.
    FAXMAN (gesture towards window right):
    Have you looked?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Well?
    SUPRE:
    Zero.
    FAXMAN:
    It'd need to rain.
    SUPRE:
    It won't rain.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Apart from that, how do you feel?
    SUPRE:
    I don't complain.
    FAXMAN:
    You feel normal?
    SUPRE (irritably):
    I tell you I don't complain.
    FAXMAN:
    I feel a little strange.
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Have you not had enough?
    SUPRE:
    Yes!
    (Pause.)
    Of what?
    FAXMAN:
    Of this... this... thing.
    SUPRE:
    I always had.
    (Pause.)
    Not you?
    FAXMAN (gloomily):
    Then there's no reason for it to change.
    SUPRE:
    It may end.
    (Pause.)
    All life long the same questions, the same answers.
    FAXMAN:
    Get me ready.
    (Supre does not move.)
    Go and get the sheet.
    (Supre does not move.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    I'll give you nothing more to eat.
    SUPRE:
    Then we'll die.
    FAXMAN:
    I'll give you just enough to keep you from dying. You'll be hungry all the time.
    SUPRE:
    Then we won't die.
    (Pause.)
    I'll go and get the sheet.
    (He goes towards the door.)
    FAXMAN:
    No!
    (Supre halts.)
    I'll give you one biscuit per day.
    (Pause.)
    One and a half.
    (Pause.)
    Why do you stay with me?
    SUPRE:
    Why do you keep me?
    FAXMAN:
    There's no one else.
    SUPRE:
    There's nowhere else.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You're leaving me all the same.
    SUPRE:
    I'm trying.
    FAXMAN:
    You don't love me.
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    You loved me once.
    SUPRE:
    Once!
    FAXMAN:
    I've made you suffer too much.
    (Pause.)
    Haven't I?
    SUPRE:
    It's not that.
    FAXMAN:
    I haven't made you suffer too much?
    SUPRE:
    Yes!
    FAXMAN (relieved):
    Ah, you gave me a fright!
    (Pause. Coldly)
    Forgive me.
    (Pause. Louder.)
    I said, Forgive me.
    SUPRE:
    I heard you.
    (Pause.)
    Have you bled?
    FAXMAN:
    Less.
    (Pause.)
    Is it not time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    How are your eyes?
    SUPRE:
    Bad.
    FAXMAN:
    How are your legs?
    SUPRE:
    Bad.
    FAXMAN:
    But you can move.
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN (violently):
    Then move!
    (Supre goes to back wall, leans against it with his forehead and hands.)
    Where are you?
    SUPRE:
    Here.
    FAXMAN:
    Come back!
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    Where are you?
    SUPRE:
    Here.
    FAXMAN:
    Why don't you kill me?
    SUPRE:
    I don't know the combination of the cupboard.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get two bicycle-wheels.
    SUPRE:
    There are no more bicycle-wheels.
    FAXMAN:
    What have you done with your bicycle?
    SUPRE:
    I never had a bicycle.
    FAXMAN:
    The thing is impossible.
    SUPRE:
    When there were still bicycles I wept to have one. I crawled at your feet. You told me to go to hell. Now there are none.
    FAXMAN:
    And your rounds? When you inspected my paupers. Always on foot?
    SUPRE:
    Sometimes on horse.
    (The lid of one of the bins lifts and the hands of Nagg appear,
    gripping the rim. Then his head emerges. Nightcap. Very white face.
    Nagg yawns, then listens.)
    I'll leave you, I have things to do.
    FAXMAN:
    In your kitchen?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Outside of here it's death.
    (Pause.)
    All right, be off.
    (Exit Supre. Pause.)
    We're getting on.
    NAGG:
    Me pap!
    FAXMAN:
    Accursed progenitor!
    NAGG:
    Me pap!
    FAXMAN:
    The old folks at home! No decency left! Guzzle, guzzle, that's all they think of.
    (He whistles. Enter Supre. He halts beside the chair.)
    Well! I thought you were leaving me.
    SUPRE:
    Oh not just yet, not just yet.
    NAGG:
    Me pap!
    FAXMAN:
    Give him his pap.
    SUPRE:
    There's no more pap.
    FAXMAN (to Nagg):
    Do you hear that? There's no more pap. You'll never get any more pap.
    NAGG:
    I want me pap!
    FAXMAN:
    Give him a biscuit.
    (Exit Supre.)
    Accursed fornicator! How are your stumps?
    NAGG:
    Never mind me stumps.
    (Enter Supre with biscuit.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm back again, with the biscuit.
    (He gives biscuit to Nagg who fingers it, sniffs it.)
    NAGG (plaintively):
    What is it?
    SUPRE:
    Spratt's medium.
    NAGG (as before):
    It's hard! I can't!
    FAXMAN:
    Bottle him!
    (Supre pushes Nagg back into the bin, closes the lid.)
    SUPRE (returning to his place beside the chair):
    If age but knew!
    FAXMAN:
    Sit on him!
    SUPRE:
    I can't sit.
    FAXMAN:
    True. And I can't stand.
    SUPRE:
    So it is.
    FAXMAN:
    Every man his specialty.
    (Pause.)
    No phone calls?
    (Pause.)
    Don't we laugh?
    SUPRE (after reflection):
    I don't feel like it.
    FAXMAN (after reflection):
    Nor I.
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Nature has forgotten us.
    SUPRE:
    There's no more nature.
    FAXMAN:
    No more nature! You exaggerate.
    SUPRE:
    In the vicinity.
    FAXMAN:
    But we breathe, we change! We lose our hair, our teeth! Our bloom! Our ideals!
    SUPRE:
    Then she hasn't forgotten us.
    FAXMAN:
    But you say there is none.
    SUPRE (sadly):
    No one that ever lived ever thought so crooked as we.
    FAXMAN:
    We do what we can.
    SUPRE:
    We shouldn't.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You're a bit of all right, aren't you?
    SUPRE:
    A smithereen.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    This is slow work.
    (Pause.)
    Is it not time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    I'll leave you, I have things to do.
    FAXMAN:
    In your kitchen?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    What, I'd like to know.
    SUPRE:
    I look at the wall.
    FAXMAN:
    The wall! And what do you see on your wall? Mene, mene? Naked bodies?
    SUPRE:
    I see my light dying.
    FAXMAN:
    Your light dying! Listen to that! Well, it can die just as well here, your light. Take a look at me and then come back and tell me what you think of your light.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    You shouldn't speak to me like that.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (coldly):
    Forgive me.
    (Pause. Louder.)
    I said, Forgive me.
    SUPRE:
    I heard you.
    (The lid of Nagg's bin lifts. His hands appear, gripping the rim. Then his head emerges. In his mouth the biscuit. He listens.)
    FAXMAN:
    Did your seeds come up?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Did you scratch round them to see if they had sprouted?
    SUPRE:
    They haven't sprouted.
    FAXMAN:
    Perhaps it's still too early.
    SUPRE:
    If they were going to sprout they would have sprouted.
    (Violently.)
    They'll never sprout!
    (Pause. Nagg takes biscuit in his hand.)
    FAXMAN:
    This is not much fun.
    (Pause.)
    But that's always the way at the end of the day, isn't it, Supre?
    SUPRE:
    Always.
    FAXMAN:
    It's the end of the day like any other day, isn't it, Supre?
    SUPRE:
    Looks like it.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (anguished):
    What's happening, what's happening?
    SUPRE:
    Something is taking its course.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    All right, be off.
    (He leans back in his chair, remains motionless. Supre does not move, heaves a great groaning sigh. Faxman sits up.)
    I thought I told you to be off.
    SUPRE:
    I'm trying.
    (He goes to the door, halts.)
    Ever since I was whelped.
    (Exit Supre.)
    FAXMAN:
    We're getting on.
    (He leans back in his chair, remains motionless. Nagg knocks on the lid of the other bin. Pause. He knocks harder. The lid lifts and the hands of Nell appear, gripping the rim. Then her head emerges. Lace cap. Very white face.)
    NELL:
    What is it, my pet?
    (Pause.)
    Time for love?
    NAGG:
    Were you asleep?
    NELL:
    Oh no!
    NAGG:
    Kiss me.
    NELL:
    We can't.
    NAGG:
    Try.
    (Their heads strain towards each other, fail to meet, fall apart again.)
    NELL:
    Why this farce, day after day?
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    I've lost me tooth.
    NELL:
    When?
    NAGG:
    I had it yesterday.
    NELL (elegiac):
    Ah yesterday.
    (They turn painfully towards each other.)
    NAGG:
    Can you see me?
    NELL:
    Hardly. And you?
    NAGG:
    What?
    NELL:
    Can you see me?
    NAGG:
    Hardly.
    NELL:
    So much the better, so much the better.
    NAGG:
    Don't say that.
    (Pause.)
    Our sight has failed.
    NELL:
    Yes.
    (Pause. They turn away from each other.)
    NAGG:
    Can you hear me?
    NELL:
    Yes. And you?
    NAGG:
    Yes.
    (Pause.)
    Our hearing hasn't failed.
    NELL:
    Our what?
    NAGG:
    Our hearing.
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Have you anything else to say to me?
    NAGG:
    Do you remember—
    NELL:
    No.
    NAGG:
    When we crashed on our tandem and lost our shanks.
    (They laugh heartily.)
    NELL:
    It was in the Ardennes.
    (They laugh less heartily.)
    NAGG:
    On the road to Sedan.
    (They laugh still less heartily.)
    Are you cold?
    NELL:
    Yes, perished, and you?
    NAGG:
    (Pause.)
    I'm freezing.
    (Pause.)
    Do you want to go in?
    NELL:
    Yes.
    NAGG:
    Then go in.
    (Nell does not move.)
    Why don't you go in?
    NELL:
    I don't know.
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    Has he changed your sawdust?
    NELL:
    It isn't sawdust.
    (Pause. Warily.)
    Can you not be a little accurate, Nagg?
    NAGG:
    Your sand then. It's not important.
    NELL:
    It is important.
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    It was sawdust once.
    NELL:
    Once!
    NAGG:
    And now it's sand.
    (Pause.)
    From the shore.
    (Pause. Impatiently.)
    Now it's sand he fetches from the shore.
    NELL:
    Now it's sand.
    NAGG:
    Has he changed yours?
    NELL:
    No.
    NAGG:
    Nor mine.
    (Pause.)
    I won't have it!
    (Pause. Holding up the biscuit.)
    Do you want a bit?
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Of what?
    NAGG:
    Biscuit. I've kept you half.
    (He looks at the biscuit. Proudly.)
    Three quarters. For you. Here.
    (He proffers the biscuit.)
    No?
    (Pause.)
    Do you not feel well?
    FAXMAN (wearily):
    Quiet, quiet, you're keeping me awake.
    (Pause.)
    Talk softer.
    (Pause.)
    If I could sleep I might make love. I'd go into the woods. My eyes would see... the sky, the earth. I'd run, run, they wouldn't catch me.
    (Pause.)
    Nature!
    (Pause.)
    There's something dripping in my head.
    (Pause.)
    A heart, a heart in my head.
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    Do you hear him? A heart in his head!
    (He chuckles cautiously.)
    NELL:
    One mustn't laugh at those things, Nagg. Why must you always laugh at them?
    NAGG:
    Not so loud!
    NELL (without lowering her voice):
    Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. But—
    NAGG (shocked):
    Oh!
    NELL:
    Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh, we laugh, with a will, in the beginning. But it's always the same thing. Yes, it's like the funny story we have heard too often, we still find it funny, but we don't laugh any more.
    (Pause.)
    Have you anything else to say to me?
    NAGG:
    No.
    NELL:
    Are you quite sure?
    (Pause.)
    Then I'll leave you.
    NAGG:
    Do you not want your biscuit?
    (Pause.)
    I'll keep it for you.
    (Pause.)
    I thought you were going to leave me.
    NELL:
    I am going to leave you.
    NAGG:
    Could you give me a scratch before you go?
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Where?
    NAGG:
    In the back.
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Rub yourself against the rim.
    NAGG:
    It's lower down. In the hollow.
    NELL:
    What hollow?
    NAGG:
    The hollow!
    (Pause.)
    Could you not?
    (Pause.)
    Yesterday you scratched me there.
    NELL (elegiac):
    Ah yesterday.
    NAGG:
    Could you not?
    (Pause.)
    Would you like me to scratch you?
    (Pause.)
    Are you crying again?
    NELL:
    I was trying.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Perhaps it's a little vein.
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    What was that he said?
    NELL:
    Perhaps it's a little vein.
    NAGG:
    What does that mean?
    (Pause.)
    That means nothing.
    (Pause.)
    Shall I tell you the story of the tailor?
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    What for?
    NAGG:
    To cheer you up.
    NELL:
    It's not funny.
    NAGG:
    It always made you laugh.
    (Pause.)
    The first time I thought you'd die.
    NELL:
    It was on Lake Como.
    (Pause.)
    One April afternoon.
    (Pause.)
    Can you believe it?
    NAGG:
    What?
    NELL:
    That we once went out rowing on Lake Como.
    (Pause.)
    One April afternoon.
    NAGG:
    We had got engaged the day before.
    NELL:
    Engaged!
    NAGG:
    You were in such fits that we capsized. By rights we should have been drowned.
    NELL:
    It was because I felt happy.
    NAGG (indignant):
    It was not, it was not, it was my STORY and nothing else. Happy! Don't you laugh at it still? Every time I tell it. Happy!
    NELL:
    It was deep, deep. And you could see down to the bottom. So white. So clean.
    NAGG:
    Let me tell it again.
    (Raconteur's voice.)
    An Englishman, needing a pair of striped trousers in a hurry for the New Year festivities, goes to his tailor who takes his measurements.
    (Tailor's voice.)
    "That's the lot, come back in four days, I'll have it ready." Good. Four days later.
    (Tailor's voice.)
    "So sorry, come back in a week, I've made a mess of the seat." Good, that's all right, a neat seat can be very ticklish. A week later.
    (Tailor's voice.)
    "Frightfully sorry, come back in ten days, I've made a hash of the crotch." Good, can't be helped, a snug crotch is always a teaser. Ten days later.
    (Tailor's voice.)
    "Dreadfully sorry, come back in a fortnight, I've made a balls of the fly." Good, at a pinch, a smart fly is a stiff proposition.
    (Pause. Normal voice.)
    I never told it worse.
    (Pause. Gloomy.)
    I tell this story worse and worse.
    (Pause. Raconteur's voice.)
    Well, to make it short, the bluebells are blowing and he ballockses the buttonholes.
    (Customer's voice.)
    "God damn you to hell, Sir, no, it's indecent, there are limits! In six days, do you hear me, six days, God made the world. Yes Sir, no less Sir, the WORLD! And you are not bloody well capable of making me a pair of trousers in three months!"
    (Tailor's voice, scandalized.)
    "But my dear Sir, my dear Sir, look—
    (disdainful gesture, disgustedly)
    —at the world—
    (Pause.)
    and look—
    (loving gesture, proudly)
    —at my TROUSERS!"
    (Pause. He looks at Nell who has remained impassive, her eyes unseeing. He breaks into a high forced laugh, cuts it short, pokes his head towards Nell, launches his laugh again.)
    FAXMAN:
    Silence!
    (Nagg starts, cuts short his laugh.)
    NELL:
    You could see down to the bottom.
    FAXMAN (exasperated):
    Have you not finished? Will you never finish?
    (With sudden fury.)
    Will this never finish?
    (Nagg disappears into his bin, closes the lid behind him. Nell does not move. Frenziedly.)
    My kingdom for a nightman!
    (He whistles. Enter Supre.)
    Clear away this muck! Chuck it in the sea!
    (Supre goes to bins, halts.)
    NELL:
    So white.
    FAXMAN:
    What? What's she blathering about?
    (Supre stoops, takes Nell's hand, feels her pulse.)
    NELL (to Supre):
    Desert!
    (Supre lets go her hand, pushes her back in the bin, closes the lid.)
    SUPRE (returning to his place beside the chair):
    She has no pulse.
    FAXMAN:
    What was she drivelling about?
    SUPRE:
    She told me to go away, into the desert.
    FAXMAN:
    Damn busybody! Is that all?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    What else?
    SUPRE:
    I didn't understand.
    FAXMAN:
    Have you bottled her?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Are they both bottled?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Screw down the lids.
    (Supre goes towards door.)
    Time enough.
    (Supre halts.)
    My anger subsides, I'd like to pee.
    SUPRE (with alacrity):
    I'll go get the catheter.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Time enough.
    (Supre halts.)
    Give me my pain killer.
    SUPRE:
    It's too soon.
    (Pause.)
    It's too soon on top of your tonic, it wouldn't act.
    FAXMAN:
    In the morning they brace you up and in the evening they calm you down. Unless it's the other way round.
    (Pause.)
    That old doctor, he's dead naturally?
    SUPRE:
    He wasn't old.
    FAXMAN:
    But he's dead?
    SUPRE:
    Naturally.
    (Pause.)
    You ask me that?
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Take me for a little turn.
    (Supre goes behind the chair and pushes it forward.)
    Not too fast!
    (Supre pushes chair.)
    Right round the world!
    (Supre pushes chair.)
    Hug the walls, then back to the center again.
    (Supre pushes chair.)
    I was right in the center, wasn't I?
    SUPRE (pushing):
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    We'd need a proper wheel-chair. With big wheels. Bicycle wheels!
    (Pause.)
    Are you hugging?
    SUPRE (pushing):
    Yes.
    FAXMAN (groping for wall):
    It's a lie! Why do you lie to me?
    SUPRE (bearing closer to wall):
    There! There!
    FAXMAN:
    Stop!
    (Supre stops chair close to back wall. Faxman lays his hand against wall.)
    Old wall!
    (Pause.)
    Beyond is the... other hell.
    (Pause. Violently.)
    Closer! Closer! Up against!
    SUPRE:
    Take away your hand.
    (Faxman withdraws his hand. Supre rams chair against wall.)
    There!
    (Faxman leans towards wall, applies his ear to it.)
    FAXMAN:
    Do you hear?
    (He strikes the wall with his knuckles.)
    Do you hear? Hollow bricks!
    (He strikes again.)
    All that's hollow!
    (Pause. He straightens up. Violently.)
    That's enough. Back!
    SUPRE:
    We haven't done the round.
    FAXMAN:
    Back to my place!
    (Supre pushes chair back to center.)
    Is that my place?
    SUPRE:
    Yes, that's your place.
    FAXMAN:
    Am I right in the center?
    SUPRE:
    I'll measure it.
    FAXMAN:
    More or less! More or less!
    SUPRE (moving chair slightly):
    There!
    FAXMAN:
    I'm more or less in the center?
    SUPRE:
    I'd say so.
    FAXMAN:
    You'd say so! Put me right in the center!
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and get the tape.
    FAXMAN:
    Roughly! Roughly!
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    Bang in the center!
    SUPRE:
    There!
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    I feel a little too far to the left.
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    Now I feel a little too far to the right.
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    I feel a little too far forward.
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    Now I feel a little too far back.
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    Don't stay there.
    (i.e. behind the chair)
    you give me the shivers.
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    SUPRE:
    If I could kill him I'd die happy.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    What's the weather like?
    SUPRE:
    As usual.
    FAXMAN:
    Look at the earth.
    SUPRE:
    I've looked.
    FAXMAN:
    With the glass?
    SUPRE:
    No need of the glass.
    FAXMAN:
    Look at it with the glass.
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and get the glass.
    (Exit Supre.)
    FAXMAN:
    No need of the glass!
    (Enter Supre with telescope.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm back again, with the glass.
    (He goes to window right, looks up at it.)
    I need the steps.
    FAXMAN:
    Why? Have you shrunk?
    (Exit Supre with telescope.)
    I don't like that, I don't like that.
    (Enter Supre with ladder, but without telescope.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm back again, with the steps.
    (He sets down ladder under window right, gets up on it, realizes he has not the telescope, gets down.)
    I need the glass.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN (violently):
    But you have the glass!
    SUPRE (halting, violently):
    No, I haven't the glass!
    (Exit Supre.)
    FAXMAN:
    This is deadly.
    (Enter Supre with the telescope. He goes towards ladder.)
    SUPRE:
    Things are livening up.
    (He gets up on ladder, raises the telescope, lets it fall.)
    I did it on purpose.
    (He gets down, picks up the telescope, turns it on auditorium.)
    I see... a multitude... in transports... of joy.
    (Pause. He lowers telescope, looks at it.)
    That's what I call a magnifier.
    (He turns toward Faxman.)
    Well? Don't we laugh?
    FAXMAN (after reflection):
    I don't.
    SUPRE (after reflection):
    Nor I.
    (He gets up on ladder, turns the telescope on the without.)
    Let's see.
    (He looks, moving the telescope.)
    Zero...
    (he looks)
    ...zero...
    (he looks)
    ...and zero.
    FAXMAN:
    Nothing stirs. All is—
    SUPRE:
    Zer—
    FAXMAN (violently):
    Wait till you're spoken to!
    (Normal voice.)
    All is... all is... all is what?
    (Violently.)
    All is what?
    SUPRE:
    What all is? In a word? Is that what you want to know? Just a moment.
    (He turns the telescope on the without, looks, lowers the telescope, turns towards Faxman.)
    Corpsed.
    (Pause.)
    Well? Content?
    FAXMAN:
    Look at the sea.
    SUPRE:
    It's the same.
    FAXMAN:
    Look at the ocean!
    (Supre gets down, takes a few steps towards window left, goes back for ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window left, gets up on it, turns the telescope on the without, looks at length. He starts, lowers the telescope, examines it, turns it again on the without.)
    SUPRE:
    Never seen anything like that!
    FAXMAN (anxious):
    What? A sail? A fin? Smoke?
    SUPRE (looking):
    The light is sunk.
    FAXMAN (relieved):
    Pah! We all knew that.
    SUPRE (looking):
    There was a bit left.
    FAXMAN:
    The base.
    SUPRE (looking):
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    And now?
    SUPRE (looking):
    All gone.
    FAXMAN:
    No gulls?
    SUPRE (looking):
    Gulls!
    FAXMAN:
    And the horizon? Nothing on the horizon?
    SUPRE (lowering the telescope, turning towards Faxman, exasperated):
    What in God's name could there be on the horizon?
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    The waves, how are the waves?
    SUPRE:
    The waves?
    (He turns the telescope on the waves.)
    Lead.
    FAXMAN:
    And the sun?
    SUPRE (looking):
    Zero.
    FAXMAN:
    But it should be sinking. Look again.
    SUPRE (looking):
    Damn the sun.
    FAXMAN:
    Is is night already then?
    SUPRE (looking):
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Then what is it?
    SUPRE (looking):
    Gray.
    (Lowering the telescope, turning towards Faxman, louder.)
    Gray!
    (Pause. Still louder.)
    GRRAY!
    (Pause. He gets down, approaches Faxman from behind, whispers in his ear.)
    FAXMAN (starting):
    Gray! Did I hear you say gray?
    SUPRE:
    Light black. From pole to pole.
    FAXMAN:
    You exaggerate.
    (Pause.)
    Don't stay there, you give me the shivers.
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    SUPRE:
    Why this farce, day after day?
    FAXMAN:
    Routine. One never knows.
    (Pause.)
    Last night I saw inside my breast. There was a big sore.
    SUPRE:
    Pah! You saw your heart.
    FAXMAN:
    No, it was living.
    (Pause. Anguished.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    What's happening?
    SUPRE:
    Something is taking its course.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Supre!
    SUPRE (impatiently):
    What is it?
    FAXMAN:
    We're not beginning to... to... mean something?
    SUPRE:
    Mean something! You and I, mean something!
    (Brief laugh.)
    Ah that's a good one!
    FAXMAN:
    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!
    (Supre 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!
    SUPRE (anguished, scratching himself):
    I have a flea!
    FAXMAN:
    A flea! Are there still fleas?
    SUPRE:
    On me there's one.
    (Scratching.)
    Unless it's a crab louse.
    FAXMAN (very perturbed):
    But humanity might start from there all over again! Catch him, for the love of God!
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and get the powder.
    (Exit Supre.)
    FAXMAN:
    A flea! This is awful! What a day!
    (Enter Supre with a sprinkling-tin.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm back again, with the insecticide.
    FAXMAN:
    Let him have it!
    (Supre 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.)
    SUPRE:
    The bastard!
    FAXMAN:
    Did you get him?
    SUPRE:
    Looks like it.
    (He drops the tin and adjusts his trousers.)
    Unless he's laying doggo.
    FAXMAN:
    Laying! Lying, you mean. Unless he's lying doggo.
    SUPRE:
    Ah? One says lying? One doesn't say laying?
    FAXMAN:
    Use your head, can't you. If he was laying we'd be bitched.
    SUPRE:
    Ah.
    (Pause.)
    What about that pee?
    FAXMAN:
    I'm having it.
    SUPRE:
    Ah that's the spirit, that's the spirit!
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (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!
    SUPRE:
    God forbid!
    FAXMAN:
    Alone, I'll embark alone! Get working on that raft immediately. Tomorrow I'll be gone forever.
    SUPRE (hastening towards door):
    I'll start straight away.
    FAXMAN:
    Wait!
    (Supre halts.)
    Will there be sharks, do you think?
    SUPRE:
    Sharks? I don't know. If there are there will be.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Wait!
    (Supre halts.)
    Is it not yet time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE (violently):
    No!
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Wait!
    (Supre halts.)
    How are your eyes?
    SUPRE:
    Bad.
    FAXMAN:
    But you can see.
    SUPRE:
    All I want.
    FAXMAN:
    How are your legs?
    SUPRE:
    Bad.
    FAXMAN:
    But you can walk.
    SUPRE:
    I come... and go.
    FAXMAN:
    In my house.
    (Pause. With prophetic relish.)
    One day you'll be blind like me. You'll be sitting here, a speck in the void, in the dark, forever, 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 you.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    It's not certain.
    (Pause.)
    And there's one thing you forgot.
    FAXMAN:
    Ah?
    SUPRE:
    I can't sit down.
    FAXMAN (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.)
    SUPRE:
    So you all want me to leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    Naturally.
    SUPRE:
    Then I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    You can't leave us.
    SUPRE:
    Then I won't leave you.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Why don't you finish us?
    (Pause.)
    I'll tell you the combination of the cupboard if you promise to finish me.
    SUPRE:
    I couldn't finish you.
    FAXMAN:
    Then you won't finish me.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you, I have things to do.
    FAXMAN:
    Do you remember when you came here?
    SUPRE:
    No. Too small, you told me.
    FAXMAN:
    Do you remember your father?
    SUPRE (wearily):
    Same answer.
    (Pause.)
    You've asked me these questions millions of times.
    FAXMAN:
    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.
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (He looks at Faxman fixedly.)
    You were that to me.
    FAXMAN:
    My house a home for you.
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (He looks about him.)
    This was that for me.
    FAXMAN (proudly):
    But for me,
    (gesture towards himself)
    no father. But for Faxman,
    (gesture towards surroundings)
    no home.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    Did you ever think of one thing?
    SUPRE:
    Never.
    FAXMAN:
    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.
    SUPRE:
    I can't go very far.
    (Pause.)
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    Is my dog ready?
    SUPRE:
    He lacks a leg.
    FAXMAN:
    Is he silky?
    SUPRE:
    He's kind of a Pomeranian.
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get him.
    SUPRE:
    He lacks a leg.
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get him!
    (Exit Supre.)
    We're getting on.
    (Enter Supre holding by one of its three legs a black toy dog.)
    SUPRE:
    Your dogs are here.
    (He hands the dog to Faxman who feels it, fondles it.)
    FAXMAN:
    He's white, isn't he?
    SUPRE:
    Nearly.
    FAXMAN:
    What do you mean, nearly? Is he white or isn't he?
    SUPRE:
    He isn't.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You've forgotten the sex.
    SUPRE (vexed):
    But he isn't finished. The sex goes on at the end.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You haven't put on his ribbon.
    SUPRE (angrily):
    But he isn't finished, I tell you! First you finish your dog and then you put on his ribbon!
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Can he stand?
    SUPRE:
    I don't know.
    FAXMAN:
    Try.
    (He hands the dog to Supre who places it on the ground.)
    Well?
    SUPRE:
    Wait!
    (He squats down and tries to get the dog to stand on its three legs, fails, lets it go. The dog falls on its side.)
    FAXMAN (impatiently):
    Well?
    SUPRE:
    He's standing.
    FAXMAN (groping for the dog):
    Where? Where is he?
    (Supre holds up the dog in a standing position.)
    SUPRE:
    There.
    (He takes Faxman's hand and guides it towards the dog's head.)
    FAXMAN (his hand on the dog's head):
    Is he gazing at me?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN (proudly):
    As if he were asking me to take him for a walk?
    SUPRE:
    If you like.
    FAXMAN (as before):
    Or as if he were begging me for a bone.
    (He withdraws his hand.)
    Leave him like that, standing there imploring me.
    (Supre straightens up. The dog falls on its side.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    Have you had your visions?
    SUPRE:
    Less.
    FAXMAN:
    Is Mother Pegg's light on?
    SUPRE:
    Light! How could anyone's light be on?
    FAXMAN:
    Extinguished!
    SUPRE:
    Naturally it's extinguished. If it's not on it's extinguished.
    FAXMAN:
    No, I mean Mother Pegg.
    SUPRE:
    But naturally she's extinguished!
    (Pause.)
    What's the matter with you today?
    FAXMAN:
    I'm taking my course.
    (Pause.)
    Is she buried?
    SUPRE:
    Buried! Who would have buried her?
    FAXMAN:
    You.
    SUPRE:
    Me! Haven't I enough to do without burying people?
    FAXMAN:
    But you'll bury me.
    SUPRE:
    No I won't bury you.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    She was bonny once, like a flower of the field.
    (With reminiscent leer.)
    And a great one for the men!
    SUPRE:
    We too were bonny—once. It's a rare thing not to have been bonny—once.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get the gaff.
    (Supre goes to the door, halts.)
    SUPRE:
    Do this, do that, and I do it. I never refuse. Why?
    FAXMAN:
    You're not able to.
    SUPRE:
    Soon I won't do it any more.
    FAXMAN:
    You won't be able to any more.
    (Exit Supre.)
    Ah the creatures, the creatures, everything has to be explained to them.
    (Enter Supre with gaff.)
    SUPRE:
    Here's your gaff. Stick it up.
    (He gives the gaff to Faxman who, wielding it like a puntpole, tries to move his chair.)
    FAXMAN:
    Did I move?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    (Faxman throws down the gaff.)
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get the oilcan.
    SUPRE:
    What for?
    FAXMAN:
    To oil the castors.
    SUPRE:
    I oiled them yesterday.
    FAXMAN:
    Yesterday! What does that mean? Yesterday!
    SUPRE (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.)
    FAXMAN:
    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.
    SUPRE:
    A madman? When was that?
    FAXMAN:
    Oh way back, way back, you weren't in the land of the living.
    SUPRE:
    God be with those days.
    (Pause. Faxman raises his toque.)
    FAXMAN:
    I had a great fondness for him.
    (Pause. He puts on his toque again.)
    He was a painter—and engraver.
    SUPRE:
    There are so many terrible things.
    FAXMAN:
    No, no, there are not so many now.
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Do you not think this has gone on long enough?
    SUPRE:
    Yes!
    (Pause.)
    What?
    FAXMAN:
    This... this... thing.
    SUPRE:
    I've always thought so.
    (Pause.)
    You not?
    FAXMAN (gloomily):
    Then it's a day like any other day.
    SUPRE:
    As long as it lasts.
    (Pause.)
    All life long the same inanities.
    FAXMAN:
    I can't leave you.
    SUPRE:
    I know. And you can't follow me.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    If you leave me how shall I know?
    SUPRE (briskly):
    Well you simply whistle me and if I don't come running it means I've left you.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You won't come and kiss me goodbye?
    SUPRE:
    Oh I shouldn't think so.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    But you might be merely dead in your kitchen.
    SUPRE:
    The result would be the same.
    FAXMAN:
    Yes, but how would I know, if you were merely dead in your kitchen?
    SUPRE:
    Well... sooner or later I'd start to stink.
    FAXMAN:
    You stink already. The whole place stinks of corpses.
    SUPRE:
    The whole universe.
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    To hell with the universe.
    (Pause.)
    Think of something.
    SUPRE:
    What?
    FAXMAN:
    An idea, have an idea.
    (Angrily.)
    A bright idea!
    SUPRE:
    Ah good.
    (He starts pacing to and fro, his eyes fixed on the ground, his hands behind his back. He halts.)
    The pains in my legs! It's unbelievable! Soon I won't be able to think any more.
    FAXMAN:
    You won't be able to leave me.
    (Supre resumes his pacing.)
    What are you doing?
    SUPRE:
    Having an idea.
    (He paces.)
    Ah!
    (He halts.)
    FAXMAN:
    What a brain!
    (Pause.)
    Well?
    SUPRE:
    Wait!
    (He meditates. Not very convinced.)
    Yes...
    (He raises his head.)
    I have it! I set the alarm.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    This is perhaps not one of my bright days, but frankly—
    SUPRE:
    You whistle me. I don't come. The alarm rings. I'm gone. It doesn't ring. I'm dead.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Is it working?
    (Pause. Impatiently.)
    The alarm, is it working?
    SUPRE:
    Why wouldn't it be working?
    FAXMAN:
    Because it's worked too much.
    SUPRE:
    But it's hardly worked at all.
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    Then because it's worked too little!
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and see.
    (Exit Supre. Brief ring of alarm offstage. Enter Supre with alarm-clock. He holds it against Faxman's ear and releases alarm. They listen to it ringing to the end. Pause.)
    Fit to wake the dead! Did you hear it?
    FAXMAN:
    Vaguely.
    SUPRE:
    The end is terrific!
    FAXMAN:
    I prefer the middle.
    (Pause.)
    Is is not time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE:
    No!
    (He goes to door, turns.)
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    It's time for my story. Do you want to listen to my story?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Ask my father if he wants to listen to my story.
    (Supre goes to bins, raises the lid of Nagg's, stoops, looks into it. Pause. He straightens up.)
    SUPRE:
    He's asleep.
    FAXMAN:
    Wake him.
    (Supre stoops, wakes Nagg with the alarm. Unintelligible words. Supre straightens up.)
    SUPRE:
    He doesn't want to listen to your story.
    FAXMAN:
    I'll give him a bon-bon.
    (Supre stoops. As before.)
    SUPRE:
    He wants a sugar-plum.
    FAXMAN:
    He'll get a sugar-plum.
    (Supre stoops. As before.)
    SUPRE:
    It's a deal.
    (He goes towards door. Nagg's hands appear, gripping the rim. Then the head emerges. Supre reaches door, turns.)
    Do you believe in the life to come?
    FAXMAN:
    Mine was always that.
    (Exit Supre.)
    Got him that time!
    NAGG:
    I'm listening.
    FAXMAN:
    Scoundrel! Why did you engender me?
    NAGG:
    I didn't know.
    FAXMAN:
    What? What didn't you know?
    NAGG:
    That it'd be you.
    (Pause.)
    You'll give me a sugar-plum?
    FAXMAN:
    After the audition.
    NAGG:
    You swear?
    FAXMAN:
    Yes.
    NAGG:
    On what?
    FAXMAN:
    My honor.
    (Pause. They laugh heartily.)
    NAGG:
    Two.
    FAXMAN:
    One.
    NAGG:
    One for me and one for—
    FAXMAN:
    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 voice.)
    Nicely put, that.
    (Narrative tone.)
    Come on now, come on, present your petition and let me resume my labors.
    (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 enquired 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 day, I remember, a hundred by the anenometer. The wind was tearing up the dead pines and sweeping them... away.
    (Pause. Normal tone.)
    A feeble bit, 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 colors 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 the 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 Supre.)
    Let us pray to God.
    NAGG:
    Me sugar-plum!
    SUPRE:
    There's a rat in the kitchen!
    FAXMAN:
    A rat! Are there still rats?
    SUPRE:
    In the kitchen there's one.
    FAXMAN:
    And you haven't exterminated him?
    SUPRE:
    Half. You disturbed us.
    FAXMAN:
    He can't get away?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    You'll finish him later. Let us pray to God.
    SUPRE:
    Again!
    NAGG:
    Me sugar-plum!
    FAXMAN:
    God first!
    (Pause.)
    Are you right?
    SUPRE (resigned):
    Off we go.
    FAXMAN (to Nagg):
    And you?
    NAGG (clasping his hands, closing his eyes, in a gabble):
    Our Father which art—
    FAXMAN:
    Silence! In silence! Where are your manners?
    (Pause.)
    Off we go.
    (Attitudes of prayer. Silence. Abandoning his attitude, discouraged.)
    Well?
    SUPRE (abandoning his attitude):
    What a hope! And you?
    FAXMAN:
    Sweet damn all!
    (To Nagg.)
    And you?
    NAGG:
    Wait!
    (Pause. Abandoning his attitude.)
    Nothing doing!
    FAXMAN:
    The bastard!! He doesn't exist.
    SUPRE:
    Not yet.
    NAGG:
    Me sugar-plum!
    FAXMAN:
    There are no more sugar plums!
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    It's natural. After all I'm your father. It's true if it hadn't been me it would have been someone else. But that's no excuse.
    (Pause.)
    Turkish Delight, for example, which no longer exists, we all know that, there is nothing in the world I love more. And one day I'll ask you for some, in return for a kindness, and you'll promise it to me. One must live with the times.
    (Pause.)
    Whom did you call when you were a tiny boy, and were frightened, in the dark? Your mother? No. Me. We let you cry. Then we moved you out of earshot, so that we might sleep in peace.
    (Pause.)
    I was asleep, as happy as a king, and you woke me up to have me listen to you. It wasn't indispensable, you didn't really need to have me listen to you.
    (Pause.)
    I hope the day will come when you'll really need to have me listen to you, and need to hear my voice, any voice.
    (Pause.)
    Yes, I hope I'll live till then, to hear you calling me like when you were a tiny boy, and were frightened, in the dark, and I was your only hope.
    (Pause. Nagg knocks on lid of Nell's bin. Pause.)
    Nell!
    (Pause. He knocks louder. Pause. Louder.)
    Nell!
    (Pause. Nagg sinks back into his bin, closes the lid behind him. Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Our revels now are ended.
    (He gropes for the dog.)
    The dog's gone.
    SUPRE:
    He's not a real dog, he can't go.
    FAXMAN (groping):
    He's not there.
    SUPRE:
    He's lain down.
    FAXMAN:
    Give him up to me.
    (Supre picks up the dog and gives it to Faxman. Faxman holds it in his arms. Pause. Faxman throws away the dog.)
    Dirty brute!
    (Supre begins to pick up the objects lying on the ground.)
    What are you doing?
    SUPRE:
    Putting things in order.
    (He straightens up. Fervently.)
    I'm going to clear everything away!
    (He starts picking up again.)
    FAXMAN:
    Order!
    SUPRE (straightening up):
    I love order. It's my dream. A world where all would be silent and still, and each thing in its last place, under the last dust.
    (He starts picking up again.)
    FAXMAN (exasperated):
    What in God's name do you think you're doing?
    SUPRE (straightening up):
    I'm doing my best to create a little order.
    FAXMAN:
    Drop it!
    (Supre drops the objects he has picked up.)
    SUPRE:
    After all, there or elsewhere.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN (irritably):
    What's wrong with your feet?
    SUPRE:
    My feet?
    FAXMAN:
    Tramp! Tramp!
    SUPRE:
    I must have put on my boots.
    FAXMAN:
    Your slippers were hurting you?
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    No!
    SUPRE:
    What is there to keep me here?
    FAXMAN:
    The dialogue.
    (Pause.)
    I've got on with my story.
    (Pause.)
    I've got on with it well.
    (Pause. Irritably.)
    Ask me where I've got to.
    SUPRE:
    Oh, by the way, your story?
    FAXMAN (surprised):
    What story?
    SUPRE:
    The one you've been telling yourself all your days.
    FAXMAN:
    Ah you mean my chronicle?
    SUPRE:
    That's the one.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    Keep going, can't you, keep going!
    SUPRE:
    You've got on with it, I hope.
    FAXMAN (modestly):
    Oh not very far, not very far.
    (He sighs.)
    There are days like that, one isn't inspired.
    (Pause.)
    Nothing you can do about it, just wait for it to come.
    (Pause.)
    No forcing, no forcing, it's fatal.
    (Pause.)
    I've got on with it a little all the same.
    (Pause.)
    Technique, you know.
    (Pause. Irritably.)
    I say I've got on with it a little all the same.
    SUPRE (admiringly):
    Well I never! In spite of everything you were able to get on with it!
    FAXMAN (modestly):
    Oh not very far, you know, not very far, but nevertheless, better than nothing.
    SUPRE:
    Better than nothing! Is it possible?
    FAXMAN:
    I'll tell you how it goes. He comes crawling on his belly—
    SUPRE:
    Who?
    FAXMAN:
    What?
    SUPRE:
    Who do you mean, he?
    FAXMAN:
    Who do I mean! Yet another.
    SUPRE:
    Ah him. I wasn't sure.
    FAXMAN:
    Crawling on his belly, whining for bread for his brat. He's offered a job as gardener. Before—
    (Supre bursts out laughing.)
    What is there so funny about that?
    SUPRE:
    A job as gardener!
    FAXMAN:
    Is that what tickles you?
    SUPRE:
    It must be that.
    FAXMAN:
    It wouldn't be the bread?
    SUPRE:
    Or the brat.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    The whole thing is comical, I grant you that. What about having a good guffaw, the two of us together?
    SUPRE (after reflection):
    I couldn't guffaw again today.
    FAXMAN (after reflection):
    Nor I.
    (Pause.)
    I continue then. Before accepting with gratitude he asks if he may have his little boy with him.
    SUPRE:
    What age?
    FAXMAN:
    Oh tiny.
    SUPRE:
    He would have climbed the trees.
    FAXMAN:
    All the little odd jobs.
    SUPRE:
    And then he would have grown up.
    FAXMAN:
    Very likely.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Keep going, can't you, keep going?
    FAXMAN:
    That's all. I stopped there.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Do you see how it goes on?
    FAXMAN:
    More or less.
    SUPRE:
    Will it not soon be the end?
    FAXMAN:
    I'm afraid it will.
    SUPRE:
    Pah! You'll make up another.
    FAXMAN:
    I don't know.
    (Pause.)
    I feel rather drained.
    (Pause.)
    The prolonged creative effort.
    (Pause.)
    If I could drag myself down to the sea! I'd make a pillow of sand for my head and the tide would come.
    SUPRE:
    There's no more tide.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Go and see is she dead.
    (Supre goes to bins, raises the lid of Nell's, stoops, looks into it. Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Looks like it.
    (He closes the lid, straightens up. Faxman raises his toque. Pause. He puts it on again.)
    FAXMAN (with his hand to his toque):
    And Nagg?
    (Supre raises lid of Nagg's bin, stoops, looks into it. Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Doesn't look like it.
    (He closes the lid, straightens up.)
    FAXMAN (letting go his toque):
    What's he doing?
    (Supre raises lid of Nagg's bin, stoops, looks into it. Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    He's crying.
    (He closes lid, straightens up.)
    FAXMAN:
    Then he's living.
    (Pause.)
    Did you ever have an instant of happiness?
    SUPRE:
    Not to my knowledge.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Bring me under the window.
    (Supre goes towards chair.)
    I want to feel the light on my face.
    (Supre pushes chair.)
    Do you remember, in the beginning, when you took me for a turn? You used to hold the chair too high. At every step you nearly tipped me out.
    (With senile quaver.)
    Ah great fun, we had, the two of us, great fun.
    (Gloomily.)
    And then we got into the way of it.
    (Supre stops the chair under window right.)
    There already?
    (Pause. He tilts back his head.)
    Is it light?
    SUPRE:
    It isn't dark.
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    I'm asking you is it light?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    The curtain isn't closed?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    What window is it?
    SUPRE:
    The earth.
    FAXMAN:
    I knew it!
    (Angrily.)
    But there's no light there! The other!
    (Supre pushes chair towards window left.)
    The earth!
    (Supre stops the chair under window left. Faxman tilts back his head.)
    That's what I call light!
    (Pause.)
    Feels like a ray of sunshine.
    (Pause.)
    No?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    It isn't a ray of sunshine I feel on my face?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Am I very white?
    (Pause. Angrily.)
    I'm asking you am I very white?
    SUPRE:
    Not more so than usual.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Open the window.
    SUPRE:
    What for?
    FAXMAN:
    I want to hear the sea.
    SUPRE:
    You wouldn't hear it.
    FAXMAN:
    Even if you opened the window?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Than it's not worth while opening it?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN (violently):
    Than open it!
    (Supre gets up on the ladder, opens the window. Pause.)
    Have you opened it?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You swear you've opened it?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Well...!
    (Pause.)
    It must be very calm.
    (Pause. Violently.)
    I'm asking you is it very calm!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    It's because there are no more navigators.
    (Pause.)
    You haven't much conversation all of a sudden. Do you not feel well?
    SUPRE:
    I'm cold.
    FAXMAN:
    What month are we?
    (Pause.)
    Close the window, we're going back.
    (Supre closes the window, gets down, pushes the chair back to its place, remains standing behind it, head bowed.)
    Don't stand there, you give me the shivers!
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    Father!
    (Pause. Louder.)
    Father!
    (Pause.)
    Go and see did he hear me.
    (Supre goes to Nagg's bin, raises the lid, stoops. Unintelligible words. Supre straightens up.)
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Both times?
    (Supre stoops. As before.)
    SUPRE:
    Once only.
    FAXMAN:
    The first time or the second?
    (Supre stoops. As before.)
    SUPRE:
    He doesn't know.
    FAXMAN:
    It must have been the second.
    SUPRE:
    We'll never know.
    (He closes lid.)
    FAXMAN:
    Is he still crying?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    The dead go fast.
    (Pause.)
    What's he doing?
    SUPRE:
    Sucking his biscuit.
    FAXMAN:
    Life goes on.
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    Give me the rug, I'm freezing.
    SUPRE:
    There are no more rugs.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Kiss me.
    (Pause.)
    Will you not kiss me?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    On the forehead.
    SUPRE:
    I won't kiss you anywhere.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (holding out his hand):
    Give me your hand at least.
    (Pause.)
    Will you not give me your hand?
    SUPRE:
    I won't touch you.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Give me the dog.
    (Supre looks round for the dog.)
    No!
    SUPRE:
    Do you not want your dog?
    FAXMAN:
    No.
    SUPRE:
    Then I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN (head bowed, absently):
    That's right.
    (Supre goes to door, turns.)
    SUPRE:
    If I don't kill that rat he'll die.
    FAXMAN (as before):
    That's right.
    (Exit Supre. Pause.)
    Me to play.
    (He takes out his handkerchief, unfolds it, holds it spread out before him.)
    We're getting on.
    (Pause.)
    You weep, and weep, for nothing, so as not to laugh, and little by little... you begin to grieve.
    (He folds the handkerchief, puts it back in his pocket, raises his head.)
    All those I might have helped.
    (Pause.)
    Helped!
    (Pause.)
    Saved.
    (Pause.)
    Saved!
    (Pause.)
    The place was crawling with them
    (Pause. Violently.)
    Use your head, can't you, use your head, you're on earth, there's no cure for that!
    (Pause.)
    Get out of here and love one another! Lick your neighbor as yourself!
    (Pause. Calmer.)
    When it wasn't bread they wanted it was crumpets.
    (Pause. Violently.)
    Out of my sight and back to your petting parties!
    (Pause.)
    All that, all that!
    (Pause.)
    Not even a real dog!
    (Calmer.)
    The end is in the beginning and yet you go on.
    (Pause.)
    Perhaps I could go on with my story, end it and begin another.
    (Pause.)
    Perhaps I could throw myself out on the floor.
    (He pushes himself painfully off his seat, falls back again.)
    Dig my nails into the cracks and drag myself forward with my fingers.
    (Pause.)
    It will be the end and there I'll be, wondering what can have brought it on and wondering what can have...
    (he hesitates)
    ...why it was so long coming.
    (Pause.)
    There I'll be, in the old shelter, alone against the silence and...
    (he hesitates)
    ...the stillness. If I can hold my peace, and sit quiet, it will be all over with sound, and motion, all over and done with.
    (Pause.)
    I'll have called my father and I'll have called my...
    (he hesitates)
    ...my son. And even twice, or three times, in case they shouldn't have heard me, the first time, or the second.
    (Pause.)
    I'll say to myself, He'll come back.
    (Pause.)
    And then?
    (Pause.)
    And then?
    (Pause.)
    He couldn't, He has gone too far.
    (Pause.)
    And then?
    (Pause. Very agitated.)
    All kinds of fantasies! That I'm being watched! A rat! Steps! Breath held and then...
    (He breathes out.)
    Then babble, babble, words, like the solitary child who turns himself into children, two, three, so as to be together, and whisper together, in the dark.
    (Pause.)
    Moment upon moment, pattering down, like the millet grains of...
    (he hesitates)
    ...that old Greek, and all life long you wait for that to mount up to a life.
    (Pause. He opens his mouth to continue, renounces.)
    Ah let's get it over!
    (He whistles. Enter Supre with alarm-clock. He halts beside the chair.)
    What? Neither gone nor dead?
    SUPRE:
    In spirit only.
    FAXMAN:
    Which?
    SUPRE:
    Both.
    FAXMAN:
    Gone from me you'd be dead.
    SUPRE:
    And vice versa.
    FAXMAN:
    Outside of here it's death!
    (Pause.)
    And the rat?
    SUPRE:
    He's got away.
    FAXMAN:
    He can't go far.
    (Pause. Anxious.)
    Eh?
    SUPRE:
    He doesn't need to go far.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Is it not time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Ah! At last! Give it to me! Quick!
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    There's no more pain-killer.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (appalled):
    Good...!
    (Pause.)
    No more pain-killer!
    SUPRE:
    No more pain-killer. You'll never get any more pain-killer.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    But the little round box. It was full!
    SUPRE:
    Yes. But now it's empty.
    (Pause. Supre starts to move about the room. He is looking for a place to put down the alarm-clock.)
    FAXMAN (soft):
    What'll I do?
    (Pause. In a scream.)
    What'll I do?
    (Supre sees the picture, takes it down, stands it on the floor with its face to the wall, hangs up the alarm-clock in its place.)
    What are you doing?
    SUPRE:
    Winding up.
    FAXMAN:
    Look at the earth.
    SUPRE:
    Again!
    FAXMAN:
    Since it's calling to you.
    SUPRE:
    Is your throat sore?
    (Pause.)
    Would you like a lozenge?
    (Pause.)
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Pity.
    (Supre goes, humming, towards window right, halts before it, looks up at it.)
    FAXMAN:
    Don't sing.
    SUPRE (turning towards Faxman):
    One hasn't the right to sing any more?
    FAXMAN:
    No.
    SUPRE:
    Then how can it end?
    FAXMAN:
    You want it to end?
    SUPRE:
    I want to sing.
    FAXMAN:
    I can't prevent you.
    (Pause. Supre turns towards window right.)
    SUPRE:
    What did I do with that steps?
    (He looks around for ladder.)
    You didn't see that steps?
    (He sees it.)
    Ah, about time.
    (He goes towards window left.)
    Sometimes I wonder if I'm in my right mind. Then it passes over and I'm as lucid as before.
    (He gets up on ladder, looks out of window.)
    Christ, she's under water!
    (He looks.)
    How can that be?
    (He pokes forward his head, his hand above his eyes.)
    It hasn't rained.
    (He wipes the pane, looks. Pause.)
    Ah what a fool I am! I'm on the wrong side!
    (He gets down, takes a few steps towards window right.)
    Under water!
    (He goes back for ladder.)
    What a fool I am!
    (He carries ladder towards window right.)
    Sometimes I wonder if I'm in my right senses. Then it passes off and I'm as intelligent as ever.
    (He sets down ladder under window right, gets up on it, looks out of window. He turns towards Faxman.)
    Any particular sector you fancy? Or merely the whole thing?
    FAXMAN:
    Whole thing.
    SUPRE:
    The general effect? Just a moment.
    (He looks out of window. Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Supre.
    SUPRE (absorbed):
    Mmm.
    FAXMAN:
    Do you know what it is?
    SUPRE (as before):
    Mmm.
    FAXMAN:
    I was never there.
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE (turning towards Faxman, exasperated):
    What is it?
    FAXMAN:
    I was never there.
    SUPRE:
    Lucky for you.
    (He looks out of window.)
    FAXMAN:
    Absent, always. It all happened without me. I don't know what's happened.
    (Pause.)
    Do you know what's happened?
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE (turning towards Faxman, exasperated):
    Do you want me to look at this muckheap, yes or no?
    FAXMAN:
    Answer me first.
    SUPRE:
    What?
    FAXMAN:
    Do you know what's happened?
    SUPRE:
    When? Where?
    FAXMAN (violently):
    When! What's happened? Use your head, can't you! What has happened?
    SUPRE:
    What for Christ's sake does it matter?
    (He looks out of window.)
    FAXMAN:
    I don't know.
    (Pause. Supre turns towards Faxman.)
    SUPRE (harshly):
    When old Mother Pegg asked you for oil for her lamp and you told her to get out to hell, you knew what was happening then, no?
    (Pause.)
    You know what she died of, Mother Pegg? Of darkness.
    FAXMAN (feebly):
    I hadn't any.
    SUPRE (as before):
    Yes, you had.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Have you the glass?
    SUPRE:
    No, it's clear enough as it is.
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get it.
    (Pause. Supre casts up his eyes, brandishes his fists. He loses balance, clutches on to the ladder. He starts to get down, halts.)
    SUPRE:
    There's one thing I'll never understand.
    (He gets down.)
    Why I always obey you. Can you explain that to me?
    FAXMAN:
    No... Perhaps it's compassion.
    (Pause.)
    A kind of great compassion.
    (Pause.)
    Oh you won't find it easy, you won't find it easy.
    (Pause. Supre begins to move about the room in search of the telescope.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm tired of our goings on, very tired.
    (He searches.)
    You're not sitting on it?
    (He moves the chair, looks at the place where it stood, resumes his search.)
    FAXMAN (anguished):
    Don't leave me there!
    (Angrily Supre restores the chair to its place.)
    Am I right in the center?
    SUPRE:
    You'd need a microscope to find this—
    (He sees the telescope.)
    Ah, about time.
    (He picks up the telescope, gets up on the ladder, turns the telescope on the without.)
    FAXMAN:
    Give me the dog.
    SUPRE (looking):
    Quiet!
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    Give me the dog!
    (Supre drops the telescope, clasps his hands to his head. Pause. He gets down precipitately, looks for the dog, sees it, picks it up, hastens towards Faxman and strikes him violently on the head with the dog.)
    SUPRE:
    There's your dog for you.
    (The dog falls to the ground. Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    He hit me!
    SUPRE:
    You drive me mad, I'm mad!
    FAXMAN:
    If you must hit me, hit me with the axe.
    (Pause.)
    Or with the gaff, hit me with the gaff. Not with the dog. With the gaff. Or with the axe.
    (Supre picks up the dog and gives it to Faxman who takes it in his arms.)
    SUPRE (impatiently):
    Let's stop playing!
    FAXMAN:
    Never!
    (Pause.)
    Put me in my coffin.
    SUPRE:
    There are no more coffins.
    FAXMAN:
    Then let it end!
    (Supre goes towards ladder.)
    With a bang!
    (Supre gets up on ladder, gets down again, looks for telescope, sees it, picks it up, gets up on ladder, raises telescope.)
    Of darkness! And me? Did anyone ever have pity on me?
    SUPRE (lowering the telescope, turning towards Faxman):
    What?
    (Pause.)
    Is it me you're referring to?
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    An aside, ape! Did you never hear an aside before?
    (Pause.)
    I'm warming up for my last soliloquy.
    SUPRE:
    I warn you. I'm going to look at this filth since it's an order. But it's the last time.
    (He turns the telescope on the without.)
    Let's see.
    (He moves the telescope.)
    Nothing... nothing... good... good... nothing... goo—
    (He starts, lowers the telescope, examines it, turns it again on the without. Pause.)
    Bad luck to it!
    FAXMAN:
    More complications!
    (Supre gets down.)
    Not an underplot, I trust.
    (Supre moves ladder nearer window, gets up on it, turns telescope on the without.)
    SUPRE (dismayed):
    Looks like a small boy!
    FAXMAN (sarcastic):
    A small... boy!
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and see.
    (He gets down, drops the telescope, goes towards door, turns.)
    I'll take the gaff.
    (He looks for the gaff, sees it, picks it up, hastens towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    No!
    (Supre halts.)
    SUPRE:
    No? A potential procreator?
    FAXMAN:
    If he exists he'll die there or he'll come here. And if he doesn't...
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    You don't believe me? You think I'm inventing?
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    It's the end, Supre, we've come to the end. I don't need you any more.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Lucky for you.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Leave me the gaff.
    (Supre gives him the gaff, goes towards door, halts, looks at alarm-clock, takes it down, looks round for a better place to put it, goes to bins, puts it on lid of Nagg's bin. Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Before you go...
    (Supre halts near door.)
    ...say something.
    SUPRE:
    There is nothing to say.
    FAXMAN:
    A few words... to ponder... in my heart.
    SUPRE:
    Your heart!
    FAXMAN:
    Yes.
    (Pause. Forcibly.)
    Yes!
    (Pause.)
    With the rest, in the end, the shadows, the murmurs, all the trouble, to end up with.
    (Pause.)
    Supre... He never spoke to me. Then, in the end, before he went, without my having asked him, he spoke to me. He said...
    SUPRE (despairingly):
    Ah...!
    FAXMAN:
    Something... from your heart.
    SUPRE:
    My heart!
    FAXMAN:
    A few words... from your heart.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE (fixed gaze, tonelessly, towards auditorium):
    They said to me, That's love, yes, yes, not a doubt, now you see how—
    FAXMAN:
    Articulate!
    SUPRE (as before):
    How easy it is. They said to me, That's friendship, yes, yes, no question, you've found it. They said to me, Here's the place, stop, raise your head and look at all that beauty. That order! They said to me, Come now, you're not a brute beast, think upon these things and you'll see how all becomes clear. And simple! They said to me, What skilled attention they get, all these dying of their wounds.
    FAXMAN:
    Enough!
    SUPRE (as before):
    I say to myself— sometimes, Supre, you must learn to suffer better than that if you want them to weary of punishing you— one day. I say to myself—sometimes, Supre, you must be better than that if you want them to let you go—one day. But I feel too old, and too far, to form new habits. Good, it'll never end, I'll never go.
    (Pause.)
    Then one day, suddenly, it ends, it changes, I don't understand, it dies, or it's me, I don't understand that either. I ask the words that remain— sleeping, waking, morning, evening. They have nothing to say.
    (Pause.)
    I open the door of the cell and go. I am so bowed I only see my feet, if I open my eyes, and between my legs a little trail of black dust. I say to myself that the earth is extinguished, though I never saw it lit.
    (Pause.)
    It's easy going.
    (Pause.)
    When I fall I'll weep for happiness.
    (Pause. He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Supre!
    (Supre halts, without turning.)
    Nothing.
    (Supre moves on.)
    Supre!
    (Supre halts, without turning.)
    SUPRE:
    This is what we call making an exit.
    FAXMAN:
    I'm obliged to you, Supre. For your services.
    SUPRE (turning sharply):
    Ah pardon, it's I am obliged to you.
    FAXMAN:
    It's we are obliged to each other.
    (Pause. Supre goes towards door.)
    One thing more.
    (Supre halts.)
    A last favor.
    (Exit Supre.)
    Cover me with the sheet.
    (Long pause.)
    No? Good.
    (Pause.)
    Me to play.
    (Pause. Wearily.)
    Old endgame lost of old, play and lose and have done with losing.
    (Pause. More animated.)
    Let me see.
    (Pause.)
    Ah yes!
    (He tries to move the chair, using the gaff as before. Enter Supre, dressed for the road. Panama hat, tweed coat, raincoat over his arm, umbrella, bag. He halts by the door and stands there, impassive and motionless, his eyes fixed on Faxman, till the end.)
    Faxman gives up:
    Good.
    (Pause.)
    Discard.
    (He throws away the gaff, makes to throw away the dog, thinks better of it.)
    Take it easy.
    (Pause.)
    And now?
    (Pause.)
    Raise hat.
    (He raises his toque.)
    Peace to our... arses.
    (Pause.)
    And put on again.
    (He puts on his toque.)
    Deuce.
    (Pause. He takes off his glasses.)
    Wipe.
    (He takes out his handkerchief and, without unfolding it, wipes his glasses.)
    And put on again.
    (He puts on his glasses, puts back the handkerchief in his pocket.)
    We're coming. A few more squirms like that and I'll call.
    (Pause.)
    A little poetry.
    (Pause.)
    You prayed—
    (Pause. He corrects himself.)
    You CRIED for night; it comes—
    (Pause. He corrects himself.)
    It FALLS: now cry in darkness.
    (He repeats, chanting.)
    You cried for night; it falls: now cry in darkness.
    (Pause.)
    Nicely put, that.
    (Pause.)
    And now?
    (Pause.)
    Moments for nothing, now as always, time was never and time is over, reckoning closed and story ended.
    (Pause. Narrative tone.)
    If he could have his child with him...
    (Pause.)
    It was the moment I was waiting for.
    (Pause.)
    You don't want to abandon him? You want him to bloom while you are withering? Be there to solace your last million last moments?
    (Pause.)
    He doesn't realize, all he knows is hunger, and cold, and death to crown it all. But you! You ought to know what the earth is like, nowadays. Oh I put him before his responsibilities!
    (Pause. Normal tone.)
    Well, there we are, there I am, that's enough.
    (He raises the whistle to his lips, hesitates, drops it. Pause.)
    Yes, truly!
    (He whistles. Pause. Louder. Pause.)
    Good.
    (Pause.)
    Father!
    (Pause. Louder.)
    Father!
    (Pause.)
    Good.
    (Pause.)
    We're coming.
    (Pause.)
    And to end up with?
    (Pause.)
    Discard.
    (He throws away the dog. He tears the whistle from his neck.)
    With my compliments.
    (He throws the whistle towards the auditorium. Pause. He sniffs. Soft.)
    Supre!
    (Long pause.)
    No? Good.
    (He takes out the handkerchief.)
    Since that's the way we're playing it...
    (he unfolds handkerchief)
    ...let's play it that way...
    (he unfolds)
    ...and speak no more about it...
    (he finishes unfolding)
    ...speak no more.
    (He holds handkerchief spread out before him.)
    Old stancher!
    (Pause.)
    You... remain.
    (Pause. He covers his face with handkerchief, lowers his arms to armrests, remains motionless.)
    (Brief tableau.)

    Curtain
    Quote Originally Posted by canexplain View Post
    To you guys I say Wat?????????? Off to ?????? ....... cr****
    Quote Originally Posted by TomAz View Post
    It's hard to argue with that.

  20. #17570

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    While you all are circle jerking in here, this was just posted in another forum about 30 minutes ago...

    Posted by LA Times this morning before quickly being removed from the website: "Years of hopes and rumors have finally come to fruition, for Daft Punk is set to return to the live stage to close the 2013 edition of the dual-weekend Coachella Valley Music & Arts Festival. Goldenvoice president Paul Tollett felt he painted himself into a corner after last year's edition of the event. "I asked myself how we could live up to the expectations that follow witnessing Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg alongside a hologram of 2Pac, but the stars aligned and I could not be more proud," said Tollett. "We get more requests and fake lineup posters clamoring for Daft Punk than any other act. Getting them to play in 2006 was a last minute miracle that resulted in a worldwide phenomenon, and because of the reputation of that performance, they've been hesitant to revisit, but now they have a new album and a live show planned that is going to blow everyone away." A release date has yet to be set for the still-untitled Nile Rodgers collaboration.

    The notion of Coachella as purely an indie rock and electronic oasis has dissipated in recent years thanks to well-received sets from headliners Jay-Z and Kanye West, and now pop superstar Justin Timberlake will shatter that conception as he brings "sexy back" to the opening night festivities at Empire Polo Field, his first performances in support of his forthcoming album "The 20/20 Experience."

    Despite the months of intense speculation among bloggers and members of the fest's official message board, AEG-owned promoter Goldenvoice continually shocks even the most jaded of fans and connected of insiders year after year. Keeping the tradition alive are a headlining performance from the reunited Britpop outfit Blur, along with fellow countrymen The Stone Roses for their first stateside appearance in two decades. Joining them for rare festival appearances are the notoriously reclusive Tom Waits and Swedish electro duo The Knife. Also reuniting for a headlining spot are Ben Gibbard's electropop sideproject The Postal Service and 90's shoegazers Slowdive.

    Completing Coachella's top tier are breakthroughs Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Modest Mouse, The xx and Phoenix, legends Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds and New Order, Trent Reznor's new band How to Destroy Angels and dance sensations Skrillex, Pretty Lights and Bassnectar.

    Surprisingly absent are recent chart-toppers Mumford & Sons, but folk-tinged indie pop is more prevalent than ever in 2013, with The Lumineers, Of Monsters and Men, Father John Misty, Ben Howard and Emmy the Great on the bill. Rounding out the rest of the lineup are rising stars including Solange, Alt-J, 2 Chainz, Angel Haze, Sky Ferreira, Bat for Lashes and Odd Future's Earl Sweatshirt.

    The majority of passes for Coachella went in a pre-sale last May, but the remaining supply of three-day general admission wristbands will go on sale Friday at 10 a.m. for $349."

  21. #17571
    old school SepaGroove's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    A repost? Really?

    Eat penguin shit you ass spelunker.

  22. #17572
    Member insbordnat's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Thanks for your insight dipshit. It's a bullshit post. Joke's on you.
    northside groove...southside groove....eastside groove...westside groove

  23. #17573
    Coachella Junkie Neighborhood Creep's Avatar
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    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by Miroir Noir View Post
    Endgame

    A PLAY IN ONE ACT

    Bare interior.

    Grey Light.

    Left and right back, high up, two small windows, curtains drawn.

    Front right, a door. Hanging near door, its face to wall, a picture.

    Front left, touching each other, covered with an old sheet, two ashbins.

    Center, in an armchair on castors, covered with an old sheet, Faxman.

    Motionless by the door, his eyes fixed on Faxman, Supre. Very red face.

    Brief tableau.


    Supre goes and stands under window left. Stiff, staggering walk. He looks up at window left. He turns and looks at window right. He goes and stands under window right. He looks up at window right. He turns and looks at window left. He goes out, comes back immediately with a small step-ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window left, gets up on it, draws back curtain. He gets down, takes six steps (for example) towards window right, goes back for ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window right, gets up on it, draws back curtain. He gets down, takes three steps towards window left, goes back for ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window left, gets up on it, looks out of window. Brief laugh. He gets down, takes one step towards window right, goes back for ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window right, gets up on it, looks out of window. Brief laugh. He gets down, goes with ladder towards ashbins, halts, turns, carries back ladder and sets it down under window right, goes to ashbins, removes sheet covering them, folds it over his arm. He raises one lid, stoops and looks into bin. Brief laugh. He closes lid. Same with other bin. He goes to Faxman, removes sheet covering him, folds it over his arm. In a dressing-gown, a stiff toque on his head, a large blood-stained handkerchief over his face, a whistle hanging from his neck, a rug over his knees, thick socks on his feet, Faxman seems to be asleep. Supre looks him over. Brief laugh. He goes to door, halts, turns towards auditorium.


    SUPRE (fixed gaze, tonelessly):
    Finished, it's finished, nearly finished, it must be nearly finished.
    (Pause.)
    Grain upon grain, one by one, and one day, suddenly, there's a heap, a little heap, the impossible heap.
    (Pause.)
    I can't be punished any more.
    (Pause.)
    I'll go now to my kitchen, ten feet by ten feet by ten feet, and wait for him to whistle me.
    (Pause.)
    Nice dimensions, nice proportions, I'll lean on the table, and look at the wall, and wait for him to whistle me.
    (He remains a moment motionless, then goes out. He comes back immediately, goes to window right, takes up the ladder and carries it out. Pause. Faxman stirs. He yawns under the handkerchief. He removes the handkerchief from his face. Very red face. Glasses with black lenses.)
    FAXMAN:
    Me—
    (he yawns)
    —to play.
    (He takes off his glasses, wipes his eyes, his face, the glasses, puts them on again, folds the handkerchief and puts it back neatly in the breast pocket of his dressing gown. He clears his throat, joins the tips of his fingers.)
    Can there be misery—
    (he yawns)
    —loftier than mine? No doubt. Formerly. But now?
    (Pause.)
    My father?
    (Pause.)
    My mother?
    (Pause.)
    My... dog?
    (Pause.)
    Oh I am willing to believe they suffer as much as such creatures can suffer. But does that mean their sufferings equal mine? No doubt.
    (Pause.)
    No, all is a—
    (he yawns)
    —bsolute,
    (proudly)
    the bigger a man is the fuller he is.
    (Pause. Gloomily.)
    And the emptier.
    (He sniffs.)
    Supre!
    (Pause.)
    No, alone.
    (Pause.)
    What dreams! Those forests!
    (Pause.)
    Enough, it's time it ended, in the shelter, too.
    (Pause.)
    And yet I hesitate, I hesitate to... to end. Yes, there it is, it's time it ended and yet I hesitate to—
    (He yawns.)
    —to end.
    (Yawns.)
    God, I'm tired, I'd be better off in bed.
    (He whistles. Enter Supre immediately. He halts beside the chair.)
    You pollute the air!
    (Pause.)
    Get me ready, I'm going to bed.
    SUPRE:
    I've just got you up.
    FAXMAN:
    And what of it?
    SUPRE:
    I can't be getting you up and putting you to bed every five minutes, I have things to do.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Did you ever see my eyes?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Did you never have the curiosity, while I was sleeping, to take off my glasses and look at my eyes?
    SUPRE:
    Pulling back the lids?
    (Pause.)
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    One of these days I'll show them to you.
    (Pause.)
    It seems they've gone all white.
    (Pause.)
    What time is it?
    SUPRE:
    The same as usual.
    FAXMAN (gesture towards window right):
    Have you looked?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Well?
    SUPRE:
    Zero.
    FAXMAN:
    It'd need to rain.
    SUPRE:
    It won't rain.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Apart from that, how do you feel?
    SUPRE:
    I don't complain.
    FAXMAN:
    You feel normal?
    SUPRE (irritably):
    I tell you I don't complain.
    FAXMAN:
    I feel a little strange.
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Have you not had enough?
    SUPRE:
    Yes!
    (Pause.)
    Of what?
    FAXMAN:
    Of this... this... thing.
    SUPRE:
    I always had.
    (Pause.)
    Not you?
    FAXMAN (gloomily):
    Then there's no reason for it to change.
    SUPRE:
    It may end.
    (Pause.)
    All life long the same questions, the same answers.
    FAXMAN:
    Get me ready.
    (Supre does not move.)
    Go and get the sheet.
    (Supre does not move.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    I'll give you nothing more to eat.
    SUPRE:
    Then we'll die.
    FAXMAN:
    I'll give you just enough to keep you from dying. You'll be hungry all the time.
    SUPRE:
    Then we won't die.
    (Pause.)
    I'll go and get the sheet.
    (He goes towards the door.)
    FAXMAN:
    No!
    (Supre halts.)
    I'll give you one biscuit per day.
    (Pause.)
    One and a half.
    (Pause.)
    Why do you stay with me?
    SUPRE:
    Why do you keep me?
    FAXMAN:
    There's no one else.
    SUPRE:
    There's nowhere else.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You're leaving me all the same.
    SUPRE:
    I'm trying.
    FAXMAN:
    You don't love me.
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    You loved me once.
    SUPRE:
    Once!
    FAXMAN:
    I've made you suffer too much.
    (Pause.)
    Haven't I?
    SUPRE:
    It's not that.
    FAXMAN:
    I haven't made you suffer too much?
    SUPRE:
    Yes!
    FAXMAN (relieved):
    Ah, you gave me a fright!
    (Pause. Coldly)
    Forgive me.
    (Pause. Louder.)
    I said, Forgive me.
    SUPRE:
    I heard you.
    (Pause.)
    Have you bled?
    FAXMAN:
    Less.
    (Pause.)
    Is it not time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    How are your eyes?
    SUPRE:
    Bad.
    FAXMAN:
    How are your legs?
    SUPRE:
    Bad.
    FAXMAN:
    But you can move.
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN (violently):
    Then move!
    (Supre goes to back wall, leans against it with his forehead and hands.)
    Where are you?
    SUPRE:
    Here.
    FAXMAN:
    Come back!
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    Where are you?
    SUPRE:
    Here.
    FAXMAN:
    Why don't you kill me?
    SUPRE:
    I don't know the combination of the cupboard.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get two bicycle-wheels.
    SUPRE:
    There are no more bicycle-wheels.
    FAXMAN:
    What have you done with your bicycle?
    SUPRE:
    I never had a bicycle.
    FAXMAN:
    The thing is impossible.
    SUPRE:
    When there were still bicycles I wept to have one. I crawled at your feet. You told me to go to hell. Now there are none.
    FAXMAN:
    And your rounds? When you inspected my paupers. Always on foot?
    SUPRE:
    Sometimes on horse.
    (The lid of one of the bins lifts and the hands of Nagg appear,
    gripping the rim. Then his head emerges. Nightcap. Very white face.
    Nagg yawns, then listens.)
    I'll leave you, I have things to do.
    FAXMAN:
    In your kitchen?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Outside of here it's death.
    (Pause.)
    All right, be off.
    (Exit Supre. Pause.)
    We're getting on.
    NAGG:
    Me pap!
    FAXMAN:
    Accursed progenitor!
    NAGG:
    Me pap!
    FAXMAN:
    The old folks at home! No decency left! Guzzle, guzzle, that's all they think of.
    (He whistles. Enter Supre. He halts beside the chair.)
    Well! I thought you were leaving me.
    SUPRE:
    Oh not just yet, not just yet.
    NAGG:
    Me pap!
    FAXMAN:
    Give him his pap.
    SUPRE:
    There's no more pap.
    FAXMAN (to Nagg):
    Do you hear that? There's no more pap. You'll never get any more pap.
    NAGG:
    I want me pap!
    FAXMAN:
    Give him a biscuit.
    (Exit Supre.)
    Accursed fornicator! How are your stumps?
    NAGG:
    Never mind me stumps.
    (Enter Supre with biscuit.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm back again, with the biscuit.
    (He gives biscuit to Nagg who fingers it, sniffs it.)
    NAGG (plaintively):
    What is it?
    SUPRE:
    Spratt's medium.
    NAGG (as before):
    It's hard! I can't!
    FAXMAN:
    Bottle him!
    (Supre pushes Nagg back into the bin, closes the lid.)
    SUPRE (returning to his place beside the chair):
    If age but knew!
    FAXMAN:
    Sit on him!
    SUPRE:
    I can't sit.
    FAXMAN:
    True. And I can't stand.
    SUPRE:
    So it is.
    FAXMAN:
    Every man his specialty.
    (Pause.)
    No phone calls?
    (Pause.)
    Don't we laugh?
    SUPRE (after reflection):
    I don't feel like it.
    FAXMAN (after reflection):
    Nor I.
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Nature has forgotten us.
    SUPRE:
    There's no more nature.
    FAXMAN:
    No more nature! You exaggerate.
    SUPRE:
    In the vicinity.
    FAXMAN:
    But we breathe, we change! We lose our hair, our teeth! Our bloom! Our ideals!
    SUPRE:
    Then she hasn't forgotten us.
    FAXMAN:
    But you say there is none.
    SUPRE (sadly):
    No one that ever lived ever thought so crooked as we.
    FAXMAN:
    We do what we can.
    SUPRE:
    We shouldn't.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You're a bit of all right, aren't you?
    SUPRE:
    A smithereen.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    This is slow work.
    (Pause.)
    Is it not time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    I'll leave you, I have things to do.
    FAXMAN:
    In your kitchen?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    What, I'd like to know.
    SUPRE:
    I look at the wall.
    FAXMAN:
    The wall! And what do you see on your wall? Mene, mene? Naked bodies?
    SUPRE:
    I see my light dying.
    FAXMAN:
    Your light dying! Listen to that! Well, it can die just as well here, your light. Take a look at me and then come back and tell me what you think of your light.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    You shouldn't speak to me like that.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (coldly):
    Forgive me.
    (Pause. Louder.)
    I said, Forgive me.
    SUPRE:
    I heard you.
    (The lid of Nagg's bin lifts. His hands appear, gripping the rim. Then his head emerges. In his mouth the biscuit. He listens.)
    FAXMAN:
    Did your seeds come up?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Did you scratch round them to see if they had sprouted?
    SUPRE:
    They haven't sprouted.
    FAXMAN:
    Perhaps it's still too early.
    SUPRE:
    If they were going to sprout they would have sprouted.
    (Violently.)
    They'll never sprout!
    (Pause. Nagg takes biscuit in his hand.)
    FAXMAN:
    This is not much fun.
    (Pause.)
    But that's always the way at the end of the day, isn't it, Supre?
    SUPRE:
    Always.
    FAXMAN:
    It's the end of the day like any other day, isn't it, Supre?
    SUPRE:
    Looks like it.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (anguished):
    What's happening, what's happening?
    SUPRE:
    Something is taking its course.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    All right, be off.
    (He leans back in his chair, remains motionless. Supre does not move, heaves a great groaning sigh. Faxman sits up.)
    I thought I told you to be off.
    SUPRE:
    I'm trying.
    (He goes to the door, halts.)
    Ever since I was whelped.
    (Exit Supre.)
    FAXMAN:
    We're getting on.
    (He leans back in his chair, remains motionless. Nagg knocks on the lid of the other bin. Pause. He knocks harder. The lid lifts and the hands of Nell appear, gripping the rim. Then her head emerges. Lace cap. Very white face.)
    NELL:
    What is it, my pet?
    (Pause.)
    Time for love?
    NAGG:
    Were you asleep?
    NELL:
    Oh no!
    NAGG:
    Kiss me.
    NELL:
    We can't.
    NAGG:
    Try.
    (Their heads strain towards each other, fail to meet, fall apart again.)
    NELL:
    Why this farce, day after day?
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    I've lost me tooth.
    NELL:
    When?
    NAGG:
    I had it yesterday.
    NELL (elegiac):
    Ah yesterday.
    (They turn painfully towards each other.)
    NAGG:
    Can you see me?
    NELL:
    Hardly. And you?
    NAGG:
    What?
    NELL:
    Can you see me?
    NAGG:
    Hardly.
    NELL:
    So much the better, so much the better.
    NAGG:
    Don't say that.
    (Pause.)
    Our sight has failed.
    NELL:
    Yes.
    (Pause. They turn away from each other.)
    NAGG:
    Can you hear me?
    NELL:
    Yes. And you?
    NAGG:
    Yes.
    (Pause.)
    Our hearing hasn't failed.
    NELL:
    Our what?
    NAGG:
    Our hearing.
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Have you anything else to say to me?
    NAGG:
    Do you remember—
    NELL:
    No.
    NAGG:
    When we crashed on our tandem and lost our shanks.
    (They laugh heartily.)
    NELL:
    It was in the Ardennes.
    (They laugh less heartily.)
    NAGG:
    On the road to Sedan.
    (They laugh still less heartily.)
    Are you cold?
    NELL:
    Yes, perished, and you?
    NAGG:
    (Pause.)
    I'm freezing.
    (Pause.)
    Do you want to go in?
    NELL:
    Yes.
    NAGG:
    Then go in.
    (Nell does not move.)
    Why don't you go in?
    NELL:
    I don't know.
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    Has he changed your sawdust?
    NELL:
    It isn't sawdust.
    (Pause. Warily.)
    Can you not be a little accurate, Nagg?
    NAGG:
    Your sand then. It's not important.
    NELL:
    It is important.
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    It was sawdust once.
    NELL:
    Once!
    NAGG:
    And now it's sand.
    (Pause.)
    From the shore.
    (Pause. Impatiently.)
    Now it's sand he fetches from the shore.
    NELL:
    Now it's sand.
    NAGG:
    Has he changed yours?
    NELL:
    No.
    NAGG:
    Nor mine.
    (Pause.)
    I won't have it!
    (Pause. Holding up the biscuit.)
    Do you want a bit?
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Of what?
    NAGG:
    Biscuit. I've kept you half.
    (He looks at the biscuit. Proudly.)
    Three quarters. For you. Here.
    (He proffers the biscuit.)
    No?
    (Pause.)
    Do you not feel well?
    FAXMAN (wearily):
    Quiet, quiet, you're keeping me awake.
    (Pause.)
    Talk softer.
    (Pause.)
    If I could sleep I might make love. I'd go into the woods. My eyes would see... the sky, the earth. I'd run, run, they wouldn't catch me.
    (Pause.)
    Nature!
    (Pause.)
    There's something dripping in my head.
    (Pause.)
    A heart, a heart in my head.
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    Do you hear him? A heart in his head!
    (He chuckles cautiously.)
    NELL:
    One mustn't laugh at those things, Nagg. Why must you always laugh at them?
    NAGG:
    Not so loud!
    NELL (without lowering her voice):
    Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. But—
    NAGG (shocked):
    Oh!
    NELL:
    Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh, we laugh, with a will, in the beginning. But it's always the same thing. Yes, it's like the funny story we have heard too often, we still find it funny, but we don't laugh any more.
    (Pause.)
    Have you anything else to say to me?
    NAGG:
    No.
    NELL:
    Are you quite sure?
    (Pause.)
    Then I'll leave you.
    NAGG:
    Do you not want your biscuit?
    (Pause.)
    I'll keep it for you.
    (Pause.)
    I thought you were going to leave me.
    NELL:
    I am going to leave you.
    NAGG:
    Could you give me a scratch before you go?
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Where?
    NAGG:
    In the back.
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Rub yourself against the rim.
    NAGG:
    It's lower down. In the hollow.
    NELL:
    What hollow?
    NAGG:
    The hollow!
    (Pause.)
    Could you not?
    (Pause.)
    Yesterday you scratched me there.
    NELL (elegiac):
    Ah yesterday.
    NAGG:
    Could you not?
    (Pause.)
    Would you like me to scratch you?
    (Pause.)
    Are you crying again?
    NELL:
    I was trying.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Perhaps it's a little vein.
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    What was that he said?
    NELL:
    Perhaps it's a little vein.
    NAGG:
    What does that mean?
    (Pause.)
    That means nothing.
    (Pause.)
    Shall I tell you the story of the tailor?
    NELL:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    What for?
    NAGG:
    To cheer you up.
    NELL:
    It's not funny.
    NAGG:
    It always made you laugh.
    (Pause.)
    The first time I thought you'd die.
    NELL:
    It was on Lake Como.
    (Pause.)
    One April afternoon.
    (Pause.)
    Can you believe it?
    NAGG:
    What?
    NELL:
    That we once went out rowing on Lake Como.
    (Pause.)
    One April afternoon.
    NAGG:
    We had got engaged the day before.
    NELL:
    Engaged!
    NAGG:
    You were in such fits that we capsized. By rights we should have been drowned.
    NELL:
    It was because I felt happy.
    NAGG (indignant):
    It was not, it was not, it was my STORY and nothing else. Happy! Don't you laugh at it still? Every time I tell it. Happy!
    NELL:
    It was deep, deep. And you could see down to the bottom. So white. So clean.
    NAGG:
    Let me tell it again.
    (Raconteur's voice.)
    An Englishman, needing a pair of striped trousers in a hurry for the New Year festivities, goes to his tailor who takes his measurements.
    (Tailor's voice.)
    "That's the lot, come back in four days, I'll have it ready." Good. Four days later.
    (Tailor's voice.)
    "So sorry, come back in a week, I've made a mess of the seat." Good, that's all right, a neat seat can be very ticklish. A week later.
    (Tailor's voice.)
    "Frightfully sorry, come back in ten days, I've made a hash of the crotch." Good, can't be helped, a snug crotch is always a teaser. Ten days later.
    (Tailor's voice.)
    "Dreadfully sorry, come back in a fortnight, I've made a balls of the fly." Good, at a pinch, a smart fly is a stiff proposition.
    (Pause. Normal voice.)
    I never told it worse.
    (Pause. Gloomy.)
    I tell this story worse and worse.
    (Pause. Raconteur's voice.)
    Well, to make it short, the bluebells are blowing and he ballockses the buttonholes.
    (Customer's voice.)
    "God damn you to hell, Sir, no, it's indecent, there are limits! In six days, do you hear me, six days, God made the world. Yes Sir, no less Sir, the WORLD! And you are not bloody well capable of making me a pair of trousers in three months!"
    (Tailor's voice, scandalized.)
    "But my dear Sir, my dear Sir, look—
    (disdainful gesture, disgustedly)
    —at the world—
    (Pause.)
    and look—
    (loving gesture, proudly)
    —at my TROUSERS!"
    (Pause. He looks at Nell who has remained impassive, her eyes unseeing. He breaks into a high forced laugh, cuts it short, pokes his head towards Nell, launches his laugh again.)
    FAXMAN:
    Silence!
    (Nagg starts, cuts short his laugh.)
    NELL:
    You could see down to the bottom.
    FAXMAN (exasperated):
    Have you not finished? Will you never finish?
    (With sudden fury.)
    Will this never finish?
    (Nagg disappears into his bin, closes the lid behind him. Nell does not move. Frenziedly.)
    My kingdom for a nightman!
    (He whistles. Enter Supre.)
    Clear away this muck! Chuck it in the sea!
    (Supre goes to bins, halts.)
    NELL:
    So white.
    FAXMAN:
    What? What's she blathering about?
    (Supre stoops, takes Nell's hand, feels her pulse.)
    NELL (to Supre):
    Desert!
    (Supre lets go her hand, pushes her back in the bin, closes the lid.)
    SUPRE (returning to his place beside the chair):
    She has no pulse.
    FAXMAN:
    What was she drivelling about?
    SUPRE:
    She told me to go away, into the desert.
    FAXMAN:
    Damn busybody! Is that all?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    What else?
    SUPRE:
    I didn't understand.
    FAXMAN:
    Have you bottled her?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Are they both bottled?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Screw down the lids.
    (Supre goes towards door.)
    Time enough.
    (Supre halts.)
    My anger subsides, I'd like to pee.
    SUPRE (with alacrity):
    I'll go get the catheter.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Time enough.
    (Supre halts.)
    Give me my pain killer.
    SUPRE:
    It's too soon.
    (Pause.)
    It's too soon on top of your tonic, it wouldn't act.
    FAXMAN:
    In the morning they brace you up and in the evening they calm you down. Unless it's the other way round.
    (Pause.)
    That old doctor, he's dead naturally?
    SUPRE:
    He wasn't old.
    FAXMAN:
    But he's dead?
    SUPRE:
    Naturally.
    (Pause.)
    You ask me that?
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Take me for a little turn.
    (Supre goes behind the chair and pushes it forward.)
    Not too fast!
    (Supre pushes chair.)
    Right round the world!
    (Supre pushes chair.)
    Hug the walls, then back to the center again.
    (Supre pushes chair.)
    I was right in the center, wasn't I?
    SUPRE (pushing):
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    We'd need a proper wheel-chair. With big wheels. Bicycle wheels!
    (Pause.)
    Are you hugging?
    SUPRE (pushing):
    Yes.
    FAXMAN (groping for wall):
    It's a lie! Why do you lie to me?
    SUPRE (bearing closer to wall):
    There! There!
    FAXMAN:
    Stop!
    (Supre stops chair close to back wall. Faxman lays his hand against wall.)
    Old wall!
    (Pause.)
    Beyond is the... other hell.
    (Pause. Violently.)
    Closer! Closer! Up against!
    SUPRE:
    Take away your hand.
    (Faxman withdraws his hand. Supre rams chair against wall.)
    There!
    (Faxman leans towards wall, applies his ear to it.)
    FAXMAN:
    Do you hear?
    (He strikes the wall with his knuckles.)
    Do you hear? Hollow bricks!
    (He strikes again.)
    All that's hollow!
    (Pause. He straightens up. Violently.)
    That's enough. Back!
    SUPRE:
    We haven't done the round.
    FAXMAN:
    Back to my place!
    (Supre pushes chair back to center.)
    Is that my place?
    SUPRE:
    Yes, that's your place.
    FAXMAN:
    Am I right in the center?
    SUPRE:
    I'll measure it.
    FAXMAN:
    More or less! More or less!
    SUPRE (moving chair slightly):
    There!
    FAXMAN:
    I'm more or less in the center?
    SUPRE:
    I'd say so.
    FAXMAN:
    You'd say so! Put me right in the center!
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and get the tape.
    FAXMAN:
    Roughly! Roughly!
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    Bang in the center!
    SUPRE:
    There!
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    I feel a little too far to the left.
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    Now I feel a little too far to the right.
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    I feel a little too far forward.
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    Now I feel a little too far back.
    (Supre moves chair slightly.)
    Don't stay there.
    (i.e. behind the chair)
    you give me the shivers.
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    SUPRE:
    If I could kill him I'd die happy.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    What's the weather like?
    SUPRE:
    As usual.
    FAXMAN:
    Look at the earth.
    SUPRE:
    I've looked.
    FAXMAN:
    With the glass?
    SUPRE:
    No need of the glass.
    FAXMAN:
    Look at it with the glass.
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and get the glass.
    (Exit Supre.)
    FAXMAN:
    No need of the glass!
    (Enter Supre with telescope.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm back again, with the glass.
    (He goes to window right, looks up at it.)
    I need the steps.
    FAXMAN:
    Why? Have you shrunk?
    (Exit Supre with telescope.)
    I don't like that, I don't like that.
    (Enter Supre with ladder, but without telescope.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm back again, with the steps.
    (He sets down ladder under window right, gets up on it, realizes he has not the telescope, gets down.)
    I need the glass.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN (violently):
    But you have the glass!
    SUPRE (halting, violently):
    No, I haven't the glass!
    (Exit Supre.)
    FAXMAN:
    This is deadly.
    (Enter Supre with the telescope. He goes towards ladder.)
    SUPRE:
    Things are livening up.
    (He gets up on ladder, raises the telescope, lets it fall.)
    I did it on purpose.
    (He gets down, picks up the telescope, turns it on auditorium.)
    I see... a multitude... in transports... of joy.
    (Pause. He lowers telescope, looks at it.)
    That's what I call a magnifier.
    (He turns toward Faxman.)
    Well? Don't we laugh?
    FAXMAN (after reflection):
    I don't.
    SUPRE (after reflection):
    Nor I.
    (He gets up on ladder, turns the telescope on the without.)
    Let's see.
    (He looks, moving the telescope.)
    Zero...
    (he looks)
    ...zero...
    (he looks)
    ...and zero.
    FAXMAN:
    Nothing stirs. All is—
    SUPRE:
    Zer—
    FAXMAN (violently):
    Wait till you're spoken to!
    (Normal voice.)
    All is... all is... all is what?
    (Violently.)
    All is what?
    SUPRE:
    What all is? In a word? Is that what you want to know? Just a moment.
    (He turns the telescope on the without, looks, lowers the telescope, turns towards Faxman.)
    Corpsed.
    (Pause.)
    Well? Content?
    FAXMAN:
    Look at the sea.
    SUPRE:
    It's the same.
    FAXMAN:
    Look at the ocean!
    (Supre gets down, takes a few steps towards window left, goes back for ladder, carries it over and sets it down under window left, gets up on it, turns the telescope on the without, looks at length. He starts, lowers the telescope, examines it, turns it again on the without.)
    SUPRE:
    Never seen anything like that!
    FAXMAN (anxious):
    What? A sail? A fin? Smoke?
    SUPRE (looking):
    The light is sunk.
    FAXMAN (relieved):
    Pah! We all knew that.
    SUPRE (looking):
    There was a bit left.
    FAXMAN:
    The base.
    SUPRE (looking):
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    And now?
    SUPRE (looking):
    All gone.
    FAXMAN:
    No gulls?
    SUPRE (looking):
    Gulls!
    FAXMAN:
    And the horizon? Nothing on the horizon?
    SUPRE (lowering the telescope, turning towards Faxman, exasperated):
    What in God's name could there be on the horizon?
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    The waves, how are the waves?
    SUPRE:
    The waves?
    (He turns the telescope on the waves.)
    Lead.
    FAXMAN:
    And the sun?
    SUPRE (looking):
    Zero.
    FAXMAN:
    But it should be sinking. Look again.
    SUPRE (looking):
    Damn the sun.
    FAXMAN:
    Is is night already then?
    SUPRE (looking):
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Then what is it?
    SUPRE (looking):
    Gray.
    (Lowering the telescope, turning towards Faxman, louder.)
    Gray!
    (Pause. Still louder.)
    GRRAY!
    (Pause. He gets down, approaches Faxman from behind, whispers in his ear.)
    FAXMAN (starting):
    Gray! Did I hear you say gray?
    SUPRE:
    Light black. From pole to pole.
    FAXMAN:
    You exaggerate.
    (Pause.)
    Don't stay there, you give me the shivers.
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    SUPRE:
    Why this farce, day after day?
    FAXMAN:
    Routine. One never knows.
    (Pause.)
    Last night I saw inside my breast. There was a big sore.
    SUPRE:
    Pah! You saw your heart.
    FAXMAN:
    No, it was living.
    (Pause. Anguished.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    What's happening?
    SUPRE:
    Something is taking its course.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Supre!
    SUPRE (impatiently):
    What is it?
    FAXMAN:
    We're not beginning to... to... mean something?
    SUPRE:
    Mean something! You and I, mean something!
    (Brief laugh.)
    Ah that's a good one!
    FAXMAN:
    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!
    (Supre 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!
    SUPRE (anguished, scratching himself):
    I have a flea!
    FAXMAN:
    A flea! Are there still fleas?
    SUPRE:
    On me there's one.
    (Scratching.)
    Unless it's a crab louse.
    FAXMAN (very perturbed):
    But humanity might start from there all over again! Catch him, for the love of God!
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and get the powder.
    (Exit Supre.)
    FAXMAN:
    A flea! This is awful! What a day!
    (Enter Supre with a sprinkling-tin.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm back again, with the insecticide.
    FAXMAN:
    Let him have it!
    (Supre 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.)
    SUPRE:
    The bastard!
    FAXMAN:
    Did you get him?
    SUPRE:
    Looks like it.
    (He drops the tin and adjusts his trousers.)
    Unless he's laying doggo.
    FAXMAN:
    Laying! Lying, you mean. Unless he's lying doggo.
    SUPRE:
    Ah? One says lying? One doesn't say laying?
    FAXMAN:
    Use your head, can't you. If he was laying we'd be bitched.
    SUPRE:
    Ah.
    (Pause.)
    What about that pee?
    FAXMAN:
    I'm having it.
    SUPRE:
    Ah that's the spirit, that's the spirit!
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (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!
    SUPRE:
    God forbid!
    FAXMAN:
    Alone, I'll embark alone! Get working on that raft immediately. Tomorrow I'll be gone forever.
    SUPRE (hastening towards door):
    I'll start straight away.
    FAXMAN:
    Wait!
    (Supre halts.)
    Will there be sharks, do you think?
    SUPRE:
    Sharks? I don't know. If there are there will be.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Wait!
    (Supre halts.)
    Is it not yet time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE (violently):
    No!
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Wait!
    (Supre halts.)
    How are your eyes?
    SUPRE:
    Bad.
    FAXMAN:
    But you can see.
    SUPRE:
    All I want.
    FAXMAN:
    How are your legs?
    SUPRE:
    Bad.
    FAXMAN:
    But you can walk.
    SUPRE:
    I come... and go.
    FAXMAN:
    In my house.
    (Pause. With prophetic relish.)
    One day you'll be blind like me. You'll be sitting here, a speck in the void, in the dark, forever, 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 you.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    It's not certain.
    (Pause.)
    And there's one thing you forgot.
    FAXMAN:
    Ah?
    SUPRE:
    I can't sit down.
    FAXMAN (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.)
    SUPRE:
    So you all want me to leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    Naturally.
    SUPRE:
    Then I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    You can't leave us.
    SUPRE:
    Then I won't leave you.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Why don't you finish us?
    (Pause.)
    I'll tell you the combination of the cupboard if you promise to finish me.
    SUPRE:
    I couldn't finish you.
    FAXMAN:
    Then you won't finish me.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you, I have things to do.
    FAXMAN:
    Do you remember when you came here?
    SUPRE:
    No. Too small, you told me.
    FAXMAN:
    Do you remember your father?
    SUPRE (wearily):
    Same answer.
    (Pause.)
    You've asked me these questions millions of times.
    FAXMAN:
    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.
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (He looks at Faxman fixedly.)
    You were that to me.
    FAXMAN:
    My house a home for you.
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (He looks about him.)
    This was that for me.
    FAXMAN (proudly):
    But for me,
    (gesture towards himself)
    no father. But for Faxman,
    (gesture towards surroundings)
    no home.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    Did you ever think of one thing?
    SUPRE:
    Never.
    FAXMAN:
    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.
    SUPRE:
    I can't go very far.
    (Pause.)
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    Is my dog ready?
    SUPRE:
    He lacks a leg.
    FAXMAN:
    Is he silky?
    SUPRE:
    He's kind of a Pomeranian.
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get him.
    SUPRE:
    He lacks a leg.
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get him!
    (Exit Supre.)
    We're getting on.
    (Enter Supre holding by one of its three legs a black toy dog.)
    SUPRE:
    Your dogs are here.
    (He hands the dog to Faxman who feels it, fondles it.)
    FAXMAN:
    He's white, isn't he?
    SUPRE:
    Nearly.
    FAXMAN:
    What do you mean, nearly? Is he white or isn't he?
    SUPRE:
    He isn't.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You've forgotten the sex.
    SUPRE (vexed):
    But he isn't finished. The sex goes on at the end.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You haven't put on his ribbon.
    SUPRE (angrily):
    But he isn't finished, I tell you! First you finish your dog and then you put on his ribbon!
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Can he stand?
    SUPRE:
    I don't know.
    FAXMAN:
    Try.
    (He hands the dog to Supre who places it on the ground.)
    Well?
    SUPRE:
    Wait!
    (He squats down and tries to get the dog to stand on its three legs, fails, lets it go. The dog falls on its side.)
    FAXMAN (impatiently):
    Well?
    SUPRE:
    He's standing.
    FAXMAN (groping for the dog):
    Where? Where is he?
    (Supre holds up the dog in a standing position.)
    SUPRE:
    There.
    (He takes Faxman's hand and guides it towards the dog's head.)
    FAXMAN (his hand on the dog's head):
    Is he gazing at me?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN (proudly):
    As if he were asking me to take him for a walk?
    SUPRE:
    If you like.
    FAXMAN (as before):
    Or as if he were begging me for a bone.
    (He withdraws his hand.)
    Leave him like that, standing there imploring me.
    (Supre straightens up. The dog falls on its side.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    Have you had your visions?
    SUPRE:
    Less.
    FAXMAN:
    Is Mother Pegg's light on?
    SUPRE:
    Light! How could anyone's light be on?
    FAXMAN:
    Extinguished!
    SUPRE:
    Naturally it's extinguished. If it's not on it's extinguished.
    FAXMAN:
    No, I mean Mother Pegg.
    SUPRE:
    But naturally she's extinguished!
    (Pause.)
    What's the matter with you today?
    FAXMAN:
    I'm taking my course.
    (Pause.)
    Is she buried?
    SUPRE:
    Buried! Who would have buried her?
    FAXMAN:
    You.
    SUPRE:
    Me! Haven't I enough to do without burying people?
    FAXMAN:
    But you'll bury me.
    SUPRE:
    No I won't bury you.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    She was bonny once, like a flower of the field.
    (With reminiscent leer.)
    And a great one for the men!
    SUPRE:
    We too were bonny—once. It's a rare thing not to have been bonny—once.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get the gaff.
    (Supre goes to the door, halts.)
    SUPRE:
    Do this, do that, and I do it. I never refuse. Why?
    FAXMAN:
    You're not able to.
    SUPRE:
    Soon I won't do it any more.
    FAXMAN:
    You won't be able to any more.
    (Exit Supre.)
    Ah the creatures, the creatures, everything has to be explained to them.
    (Enter Supre with gaff.)
    SUPRE:
    Here's your gaff. Stick it up.
    (He gives the gaff to Faxman who, wielding it like a puntpole, tries to move his chair.)
    FAXMAN:
    Did I move?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    (Faxman throws down the gaff.)
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get the oilcan.
    SUPRE:
    What for?
    FAXMAN:
    To oil the castors.
    SUPRE:
    I oiled them yesterday.
    FAXMAN:
    Yesterday! What does that mean? Yesterday!
    SUPRE (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.)
    FAXMAN:
    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.
    SUPRE:
    A madman? When was that?
    FAXMAN:
    Oh way back, way back, you weren't in the land of the living.
    SUPRE:
    God be with those days.
    (Pause. Faxman raises his toque.)
    FAXMAN:
    I had a great fondness for him.
    (Pause. He puts on his toque again.)
    He was a painter—and engraver.
    SUPRE:
    There are so many terrible things.
    FAXMAN:
    No, no, there are not so many now.
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Do you not think this has gone on long enough?
    SUPRE:
    Yes!
    (Pause.)
    What?
    FAXMAN:
    This... this... thing.
    SUPRE:
    I've always thought so.
    (Pause.)
    You not?
    FAXMAN (gloomily):
    Then it's a day like any other day.
    SUPRE:
    As long as it lasts.
    (Pause.)
    All life long the same inanities.
    FAXMAN:
    I can't leave you.
    SUPRE:
    I know. And you can't follow me.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    If you leave me how shall I know?
    SUPRE (briskly):
    Well you simply whistle me and if I don't come running it means I've left you.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You won't come and kiss me goodbye?
    SUPRE:
    Oh I shouldn't think so.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    But you might be merely dead in your kitchen.
    SUPRE:
    The result would be the same.
    FAXMAN:
    Yes, but how would I know, if you were merely dead in your kitchen?
    SUPRE:
    Well... sooner or later I'd start to stink.
    FAXMAN:
    You stink already. The whole place stinks of corpses.
    SUPRE:
    The whole universe.
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    To hell with the universe.
    (Pause.)
    Think of something.
    SUPRE:
    What?
    FAXMAN:
    An idea, have an idea.
    (Angrily.)
    A bright idea!
    SUPRE:
    Ah good.
    (He starts pacing to and fro, his eyes fixed on the ground, his hands behind his back. He halts.)
    The pains in my legs! It's unbelievable! Soon I won't be able to think any more.
    FAXMAN:
    You won't be able to leave me.
    (Supre resumes his pacing.)
    What are you doing?
    SUPRE:
    Having an idea.
    (He paces.)
    Ah!
    (He halts.)
    FAXMAN:
    What a brain!
    (Pause.)
    Well?
    SUPRE:
    Wait!
    (He meditates. Not very convinced.)
    Yes...
    (He raises his head.)
    I have it! I set the alarm.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    This is perhaps not one of my bright days, but frankly—
    SUPRE:
    You whistle me. I don't come. The alarm rings. I'm gone. It doesn't ring. I'm dead.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Is it working?
    (Pause. Impatiently.)
    The alarm, is it working?
    SUPRE:
    Why wouldn't it be working?
    FAXMAN:
    Because it's worked too much.
    SUPRE:
    But it's hardly worked at all.
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    Then because it's worked too little!
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and see.
    (Exit Supre. Brief ring of alarm offstage. Enter Supre with alarm-clock. He holds it against Faxman's ear and releases alarm. They listen to it ringing to the end. Pause.)
    Fit to wake the dead! Did you hear it?
    FAXMAN:
    Vaguely.
    SUPRE:
    The end is terrific!
    FAXMAN:
    I prefer the middle.
    (Pause.)
    Is is not time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE:
    No!
    (He goes to door, turns.)
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    It's time for my story. Do you want to listen to my story?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Ask my father if he wants to listen to my story.
    (Supre goes to bins, raises the lid of Nagg's, stoops, looks into it. Pause. He straightens up.)
    SUPRE:
    He's asleep.
    FAXMAN:
    Wake him.
    (Supre stoops, wakes Nagg with the alarm. Unintelligible words. Supre straightens up.)
    SUPRE:
    He doesn't want to listen to your story.
    FAXMAN:
    I'll give him a bon-bon.
    (Supre stoops. As before.)
    SUPRE:
    He wants a sugar-plum.
    FAXMAN:
    He'll get a sugar-plum.
    (Supre stoops. As before.)
    SUPRE:
    It's a deal.
    (He goes towards door. Nagg's hands appear, gripping the rim. Then the head emerges. Supre reaches door, turns.)
    Do you believe in the life to come?
    FAXMAN:
    Mine was always that.
    (Exit Supre.)
    Got him that time!
    NAGG:
    I'm listening.
    FAXMAN:
    Scoundrel! Why did you engender me?
    NAGG:
    I didn't know.
    FAXMAN:
    What? What didn't you know?
    NAGG:
    That it'd be you.
    (Pause.)
    You'll give me a sugar-plum?
    FAXMAN:
    After the audition.
    NAGG:
    You swear?
    FAXMAN:
    Yes.
    NAGG:
    On what?
    FAXMAN:
    My honor.
    (Pause. They laugh heartily.)
    NAGG:
    Two.
    FAXMAN:
    One.
    NAGG:
    One for me and one for—
    FAXMAN:
    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 voice.)
    Nicely put, that.
    (Narrative tone.)
    Come on now, come on, present your petition and let me resume my labors.
    (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 enquired 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 day, I remember, a hundred by the anenometer. The wind was tearing up the dead pines and sweeping them... away.
    (Pause. Normal tone.)
    A feeble bit, 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 colors 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 the 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 Supre.)
    Let us pray to God.
    NAGG:
    Me sugar-plum!
    SUPRE:
    There's a rat in the kitchen!
    FAXMAN:
    A rat! Are there still rats?
    SUPRE:
    In the kitchen there's one.
    FAXMAN:
    And you haven't exterminated him?
    SUPRE:
    Half. You disturbed us.
    FAXMAN:
    He can't get away?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    You'll finish him later. Let us pray to God.
    SUPRE:
    Again!
    NAGG:
    Me sugar-plum!
    FAXMAN:
    God first!
    (Pause.)
    Are you right?
    SUPRE (resigned):
    Off we go.
    FAXMAN (to Nagg):
    And you?
    NAGG (clasping his hands, closing his eyes, in a gabble):
    Our Father which art—
    FAXMAN:
    Silence! In silence! Where are your manners?
    (Pause.)
    Off we go.
    (Attitudes of prayer. Silence. Abandoning his attitude, discouraged.)
    Well?
    SUPRE (abandoning his attitude):
    What a hope! And you?
    FAXMAN:
    Sweet damn all!
    (To Nagg.)
    And you?
    NAGG:
    Wait!
    (Pause. Abandoning his attitude.)
    Nothing doing!
    FAXMAN:
    The bastard!! He doesn't exist.
    SUPRE:
    Not yet.
    NAGG:
    Me sugar-plum!
    FAXMAN:
    There are no more sugar plums!
    (Pause.)
    NAGG:
    It's natural. After all I'm your father. It's true if it hadn't been me it would have been someone else. But that's no excuse.
    (Pause.)
    Turkish Delight, for example, which no longer exists, we all know that, there is nothing in the world I love more. And one day I'll ask you for some, in return for a kindness, and you'll promise it to me. One must live with the times.
    (Pause.)
    Whom did you call when you were a tiny boy, and were frightened, in the dark? Your mother? No. Me. We let you cry. Then we moved you out of earshot, so that we might sleep in peace.
    (Pause.)
    I was asleep, as happy as a king, and you woke me up to have me listen to you. It wasn't indispensable, you didn't really need to have me listen to you.
    (Pause.)
    I hope the day will come when you'll really need to have me listen to you, and need to hear my voice, any voice.
    (Pause.)
    Yes, I hope I'll live till then, to hear you calling me like when you were a tiny boy, and were frightened, in the dark, and I was your only hope.
    (Pause. Nagg knocks on lid of Nell's bin. Pause.)
    Nell!
    (Pause. He knocks louder. Pause. Louder.)
    Nell!
    (Pause. Nagg sinks back into his bin, closes the lid behind him. Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Our revels now are ended.
    (He gropes for the dog.)
    The dog's gone.
    SUPRE:
    He's not a real dog, he can't go.
    FAXMAN (groping):
    He's not there.
    SUPRE:
    He's lain down.
    FAXMAN:
    Give him up to me.
    (Supre picks up the dog and gives it to Faxman. Faxman holds it in his arms. Pause. Faxman throws away the dog.)
    Dirty brute!
    (Supre begins to pick up the objects lying on the ground.)
    What are you doing?
    SUPRE:
    Putting things in order.
    (He straightens up. Fervently.)
    I'm going to clear everything away!
    (He starts picking up again.)
    FAXMAN:
    Order!
    SUPRE (straightening up):
    I love order. It's my dream. A world where all would be silent and still, and each thing in its last place, under the last dust.
    (He starts picking up again.)
    FAXMAN (exasperated):
    What in God's name do you think you're doing?
    SUPRE (straightening up):
    I'm doing my best to create a little order.
    FAXMAN:
    Drop it!
    (Supre drops the objects he has picked up.)
    SUPRE:
    After all, there or elsewhere.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN (irritably):
    What's wrong with your feet?
    SUPRE:
    My feet?
    FAXMAN:
    Tramp! Tramp!
    SUPRE:
    I must have put on my boots.
    FAXMAN:
    Your slippers were hurting you?
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN:
    No!
    SUPRE:
    What is there to keep me here?
    FAXMAN:
    The dialogue.
    (Pause.)
    I've got on with my story.
    (Pause.)
    I've got on with it well.
    (Pause. Irritably.)
    Ask me where I've got to.
    SUPRE:
    Oh, by the way, your story?
    FAXMAN (surprised):
    What story?
    SUPRE:
    The one you've been telling yourself all your days.
    FAXMAN:
    Ah you mean my chronicle?
    SUPRE:
    That's the one.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    Keep going, can't you, keep going!
    SUPRE:
    You've got on with it, I hope.
    FAXMAN (modestly):
    Oh not very far, not very far.
    (He sighs.)
    There are days like that, one isn't inspired.
    (Pause.)
    Nothing you can do about it, just wait for it to come.
    (Pause.)
    No forcing, no forcing, it's fatal.
    (Pause.)
    I've got on with it a little all the same.
    (Pause.)
    Technique, you know.
    (Pause. Irritably.)
    I say I've got on with it a little all the same.
    SUPRE (admiringly):
    Well I never! In spite of everything you were able to get on with it!
    FAXMAN (modestly):
    Oh not very far, you know, not very far, but nevertheless, better than nothing.
    SUPRE:
    Better than nothing! Is it possible?
    FAXMAN:
    I'll tell you how it goes. He comes crawling on his belly—
    SUPRE:
    Who?
    FAXMAN:
    What?
    SUPRE:
    Who do you mean, he?
    FAXMAN:
    Who do I mean! Yet another.
    SUPRE:
    Ah him. I wasn't sure.
    FAXMAN:
    Crawling on his belly, whining for bread for his brat. He's offered a job as gardener. Before—
    (Supre bursts out laughing.)
    What is there so funny about that?
    SUPRE:
    A job as gardener!
    FAXMAN:
    Is that what tickles you?
    SUPRE:
    It must be that.
    FAXMAN:
    It wouldn't be the bread?
    SUPRE:
    Or the brat.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    The whole thing is comical, I grant you that. What about having a good guffaw, the two of us together?
    SUPRE (after reflection):
    I couldn't guffaw again today.
    FAXMAN (after reflection):
    Nor I.
    (Pause.)
    I continue then. Before accepting with gratitude he asks if he may have his little boy with him.
    SUPRE:
    What age?
    FAXMAN:
    Oh tiny.
    SUPRE:
    He would have climbed the trees.
    FAXMAN:
    All the little odd jobs.
    SUPRE:
    And then he would have grown up.
    FAXMAN:
    Very likely.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Keep going, can't you, keep going?
    FAXMAN:
    That's all. I stopped there.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Do you see how it goes on?
    FAXMAN:
    More or less.
    SUPRE:
    Will it not soon be the end?
    FAXMAN:
    I'm afraid it will.
    SUPRE:
    Pah! You'll make up another.
    FAXMAN:
    I don't know.
    (Pause.)
    I feel rather drained.
    (Pause.)
    The prolonged creative effort.
    (Pause.)
    If I could drag myself down to the sea! I'd make a pillow of sand for my head and the tide would come.
    SUPRE:
    There's no more tide.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Go and see is she dead.
    (Supre goes to bins, raises the lid of Nell's, stoops, looks into it. Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Looks like it.
    (He closes the lid, straightens up. Faxman raises his toque. Pause. He puts it on again.)
    FAXMAN (with his hand to his toque):
    And Nagg?
    (Supre raises lid of Nagg's bin, stoops, looks into it. Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Doesn't look like it.
    (He closes the lid, straightens up.)
    FAXMAN (letting go his toque):
    What's he doing?
    (Supre raises lid of Nagg's bin, stoops, looks into it. Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    He's crying.
    (He closes lid, straightens up.)
    FAXMAN:
    Then he's living.
    (Pause.)
    Did you ever have an instant of happiness?
    SUPRE:
    Not to my knowledge.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Bring me under the window.
    (Supre goes towards chair.)
    I want to feel the light on my face.
    (Supre pushes chair.)
    Do you remember, in the beginning, when you took me for a turn? You used to hold the chair too high. At every step you nearly tipped me out.
    (With senile quaver.)
    Ah great fun, we had, the two of us, great fun.
    (Gloomily.)
    And then we got into the way of it.
    (Supre stops the chair under window right.)
    There already?
    (Pause. He tilts back his head.)
    Is it light?
    SUPRE:
    It isn't dark.
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    I'm asking you is it light?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    The curtain isn't closed?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    What window is it?
    SUPRE:
    The earth.
    FAXMAN:
    I knew it!
    (Angrily.)
    But there's no light there! The other!
    (Supre pushes chair towards window left.)
    The earth!
    (Supre stops the chair under window left. Faxman tilts back his head.)
    That's what I call light!
    (Pause.)
    Feels like a ray of sunshine.
    (Pause.)
    No?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    It isn't a ray of sunshine I feel on my face?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Am I very white?
    (Pause. Angrily.)
    I'm asking you am I very white?
    SUPRE:
    Not more so than usual.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Open the window.
    SUPRE:
    What for?
    FAXMAN:
    I want to hear the sea.
    SUPRE:
    You wouldn't hear it.
    FAXMAN:
    Even if you opened the window?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    Than it's not worth while opening it?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN (violently):
    Than open it!
    (Supre gets up on the ladder, opens the window. Pause.)
    Have you opened it?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    You swear you've opened it?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Well...!
    (Pause.)
    It must be very calm.
    (Pause. Violently.)
    I'm asking you is it very calm!
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    It's because there are no more navigators.
    (Pause.)
    You haven't much conversation all of a sudden. Do you not feel well?
    SUPRE:
    I'm cold.
    FAXMAN:
    What month are we?
    (Pause.)
    Close the window, we're going back.
    (Supre closes the window, gets down, pushes the chair back to its place, remains standing behind it, head bowed.)
    Don't stand there, you give me the shivers!
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    Father!
    (Pause. Louder.)
    Father!
    (Pause.)
    Go and see did he hear me.
    (Supre goes to Nagg's bin, raises the lid, stoops. Unintelligible words. Supre straightens up.)
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Both times?
    (Supre stoops. As before.)
    SUPRE:
    Once only.
    FAXMAN:
    The first time or the second?
    (Supre stoops. As before.)
    SUPRE:
    He doesn't know.
    FAXMAN:
    It must have been the second.
    SUPRE:
    We'll never know.
    (He closes lid.)
    FAXMAN:
    Is he still crying?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    The dead go fast.
    (Pause.)
    What's he doing?
    SUPRE:
    Sucking his biscuit.
    FAXMAN:
    Life goes on.
    (Supre returns to his place beside the chair.)
    Give me the rug, I'm freezing.
    SUPRE:
    There are no more rugs.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Kiss me.
    (Pause.)
    Will you not kiss me?
    SUPRE:
    No.
    FAXMAN:
    On the forehead.
    SUPRE:
    I won't kiss you anywhere.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (holding out his hand):
    Give me your hand at least.
    (Pause.)
    Will you not give me your hand?
    SUPRE:
    I won't touch you.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Give me the dog.
    (Supre looks round for the dog.)
    No!
    SUPRE:
    Do you not want your dog?
    FAXMAN:
    No.
    SUPRE:
    Then I'll leave you.
    FAXMAN (head bowed, absently):
    That's right.
    (Supre goes to door, turns.)
    SUPRE:
    If I don't kill that rat he'll die.
    FAXMAN (as before):
    That's right.
    (Exit Supre. Pause.)
    Me to play.
    (He takes out his handkerchief, unfolds it, holds it spread out before him.)
    We're getting on.
    (Pause.)
    You weep, and weep, for nothing, so as not to laugh, and little by little... you begin to grieve.
    (He folds the handkerchief, puts it back in his pocket, raises his head.)
    All those I might have helped.
    (Pause.)
    Helped!
    (Pause.)
    Saved.
    (Pause.)
    Saved!
    (Pause.)
    The place was crawling with them
    (Pause. Violently.)
    Use your head, can't you, use your head, you're on earth, there's no cure for that!
    (Pause.)
    Get out of here and love one another! Lick your neighbor as yourself!
    (Pause. Calmer.)
    When it wasn't bread they wanted it was crumpets.
    (Pause. Violently.)
    Out of my sight and back to your petting parties!
    (Pause.)
    All that, all that!
    (Pause.)
    Not even a real dog!
    (Calmer.)
    The end is in the beginning and yet you go on.
    (Pause.)
    Perhaps I could go on with my story, end it and begin another.
    (Pause.)
    Perhaps I could throw myself out on the floor.
    (He pushes himself painfully off his seat, falls back again.)
    Dig my nails into the cracks and drag myself forward with my fingers.
    (Pause.)
    It will be the end and there I'll be, wondering what can have brought it on and wondering what can have...
    (he hesitates)
    ...why it was so long coming.
    (Pause.)
    There I'll be, in the old shelter, alone against the silence and...
    (he hesitates)
    ...the stillness. If I can hold my peace, and sit quiet, it will be all over with sound, and motion, all over and done with.
    (Pause.)
    I'll have called my father and I'll have called my...
    (he hesitates)
    ...my son. And even twice, or three times, in case they shouldn't have heard me, the first time, or the second.
    (Pause.)
    I'll say to myself, He'll come back.
    (Pause.)
    And then?
    (Pause.)
    And then?
    (Pause.)
    He couldn't, He has gone too far.
    (Pause.)
    And then?
    (Pause. Very agitated.)
    All kinds of fantasies! That I'm being watched! A rat! Steps! Breath held and then...
    (He breathes out.)
    Then babble, babble, words, like the solitary child who turns himself into children, two, three, so as to be together, and whisper together, in the dark.
    (Pause.)
    Moment upon moment, pattering down, like the millet grains of...
    (he hesitates)
    ...that old Greek, and all life long you wait for that to mount up to a life.
    (Pause. He opens his mouth to continue, renounces.)
    Ah let's get it over!
    (He whistles. Enter Supre with alarm-clock. He halts beside the chair.)
    What? Neither gone nor dead?
    SUPRE:
    In spirit only.
    FAXMAN:
    Which?
    SUPRE:
    Both.
    FAXMAN:
    Gone from me you'd be dead.
    SUPRE:
    And vice versa.
    FAXMAN:
    Outside of here it's death!
    (Pause.)
    And the rat?
    SUPRE:
    He's got away.
    FAXMAN:
    He can't go far.
    (Pause. Anxious.)
    Eh?
    SUPRE:
    He doesn't need to go far.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Is it not time for my pain-killer?
    SUPRE:
    Yes.
    FAXMAN:
    Ah! At last! Give it to me! Quick!
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    There's no more pain-killer.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN (appalled):
    Good...!
    (Pause.)
    No more pain-killer!
    SUPRE:
    No more pain-killer. You'll never get any more pain-killer.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    But the little round box. It was full!
    SUPRE:
    Yes. But now it's empty.
    (Pause. Supre starts to move about the room. He is looking for a place to put down the alarm-clock.)
    FAXMAN (soft):
    What'll I do?
    (Pause. In a scream.)
    What'll I do?
    (Supre sees the picture, takes it down, stands it on the floor with its face to the wall, hangs up the alarm-clock in its place.)
    What are you doing?
    SUPRE:
    Winding up.
    FAXMAN:
    Look at the earth.
    SUPRE:
    Again!
    FAXMAN:
    Since it's calling to you.
    SUPRE:
    Is your throat sore?
    (Pause.)
    Would you like a lozenge?
    (Pause.)
    No.
    (Pause.)
    Pity.
    (Supre goes, humming, towards window right, halts before it, looks up at it.)
    FAXMAN:
    Don't sing.
    SUPRE (turning towards Faxman):
    One hasn't the right to sing any more?
    FAXMAN:
    No.
    SUPRE:
    Then how can it end?
    FAXMAN:
    You want it to end?
    SUPRE:
    I want to sing.
    FAXMAN:
    I can't prevent you.
    (Pause. Supre turns towards window right.)
    SUPRE:
    What did I do with that steps?
    (He looks around for ladder.)
    You didn't see that steps?
    (He sees it.)
    Ah, about time.
    (He goes towards window left.)
    Sometimes I wonder if I'm in my right mind. Then it passes over and I'm as lucid as before.
    (He gets up on ladder, looks out of window.)
    Christ, she's under water!
    (He looks.)
    How can that be?
    (He pokes forward his head, his hand above his eyes.)
    It hasn't rained.
    (He wipes the pane, looks. Pause.)
    Ah what a fool I am! I'm on the wrong side!
    (He gets down, takes a few steps towards window right.)
    Under water!
    (He goes back for ladder.)
    What a fool I am!
    (He carries ladder towards window right.)
    Sometimes I wonder if I'm in my right senses. Then it passes off and I'm as intelligent as ever.
    (He sets down ladder under window right, gets up on it, looks out of window. He turns towards Faxman.)
    Any particular sector you fancy? Or merely the whole thing?
    FAXMAN:
    Whole thing.
    SUPRE:
    The general effect? Just a moment.
    (He looks out of window. Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Supre.
    SUPRE (absorbed):
    Mmm.
    FAXMAN:
    Do you know what it is?
    SUPRE (as before):
    Mmm.
    FAXMAN:
    I was never there.
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE (turning towards Faxman, exasperated):
    What is it?
    FAXMAN:
    I was never there.
    SUPRE:
    Lucky for you.
    (He looks out of window.)
    FAXMAN:
    Absent, always. It all happened without me. I don't know what's happened.
    (Pause.)
    Do you know what's happened?
    (Pause.)
    Supre!
    SUPRE (turning towards Faxman, exasperated):
    Do you want me to look at this muckheap, yes or no?
    FAXMAN:
    Answer me first.
    SUPRE:
    What?
    FAXMAN:
    Do you know what's happened?
    SUPRE:
    When? Where?
    FAXMAN (violently):
    When! What's happened? Use your head, can't you! What has happened?
    SUPRE:
    What for Christ's sake does it matter?
    (He looks out of window.)
    FAXMAN:
    I don't know.
    (Pause. Supre turns towards Faxman.)
    SUPRE (harshly):
    When old Mother Pegg asked you for oil for her lamp and you told her to get out to hell, you knew what was happening then, no?
    (Pause.)
    You know what she died of, Mother Pegg? Of darkness.
    FAXMAN (feebly):
    I hadn't any.
    SUPRE (as before):
    Yes, you had.
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    Have you the glass?
    SUPRE:
    No, it's clear enough as it is.
    FAXMAN:
    Go and get it.
    (Pause. Supre casts up his eyes, brandishes his fists. He loses balance, clutches on to the ladder. He starts to get down, halts.)
    SUPRE:
    There's one thing I'll never understand.
    (He gets down.)
    Why I always obey you. Can you explain that to me?
    FAXMAN:
    No... Perhaps it's compassion.
    (Pause.)
    A kind of great compassion.
    (Pause.)
    Oh you won't find it easy, you won't find it easy.
    (Pause. Supre begins to move about the room in search of the telescope.)
    SUPRE:
    I'm tired of our goings on, very tired.
    (He searches.)
    You're not sitting on it?
    (He moves the chair, looks at the place where it stood, resumes his search.)
    FAXMAN (anguished):
    Don't leave me there!
    (Angrily Supre restores the chair to its place.)
    Am I right in the center?
    SUPRE:
    You'd need a microscope to find this—
    (He sees the telescope.)
    Ah, about time.
    (He picks up the telescope, gets up on the ladder, turns the telescope on the without.)
    FAXMAN:
    Give me the dog.
    SUPRE (looking):
    Quiet!
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    Give me the dog!
    (Supre drops the telescope, clasps his hands to his head. Pause. He gets down precipitately, looks for the dog, sees it, picks it up, hastens towards Faxman and strikes him violently on the head with the dog.)
    SUPRE:
    There's your dog for you.
    (The dog falls to the ground. Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    He hit me!
    SUPRE:
    You drive me mad, I'm mad!
    FAXMAN:
    If you must hit me, hit me with the axe.
    (Pause.)
    Or with the gaff, hit me with the gaff. Not with the dog. With the gaff. Or with the axe.
    (Supre picks up the dog and gives it to Faxman who takes it in his arms.)
    SUPRE (impatiently):
    Let's stop playing!
    FAXMAN:
    Never!
    (Pause.)
    Put me in my coffin.
    SUPRE:
    There are no more coffins.
    FAXMAN:
    Then let it end!
    (Supre goes towards ladder.)
    With a bang!
    (Supre gets up on ladder, gets down again, looks for telescope, sees it, picks it up, gets up on ladder, raises telescope.)
    Of darkness! And me? Did anyone ever have pity on me?
    SUPRE (lowering the telescope, turning towards Faxman):
    What?
    (Pause.)
    Is it me you're referring to?
    FAXMAN (angrily):
    An aside, ape! Did you never hear an aside before?
    (Pause.)
    I'm warming up for my last soliloquy.
    SUPRE:
    I warn you. I'm going to look at this filth since it's an order. But it's the last time.
    (He turns the telescope on the without.)
    Let's see.
    (He moves the telescope.)
    Nothing... nothing... good... good... nothing... goo—
    (He starts, lowers the telescope, examines it, turns it again on the without. Pause.)
    Bad luck to it!
    FAXMAN:
    More complications!
    (Supre gets down.)
    Not an underplot, I trust.
    (Supre moves ladder nearer window, gets up on it, turns telescope on the without.)
    SUPRE (dismayed):
    Looks like a small boy!
    FAXMAN (sarcastic):
    A small... boy!
    SUPRE:
    I'll go and see.
    (He gets down, drops the telescope, goes towards door, turns.)
    I'll take the gaff.
    (He looks for the gaff, sees it, picks it up, hastens towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    No!
    (Supre halts.)
    SUPRE:
    No? A potential procreator?
    FAXMAN:
    If he exists he'll die there or he'll come here. And if he doesn't...
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    You don't believe me? You think I'm inventing?
    (Pause.)
    FAXMAN:
    It's the end, Supre, we've come to the end. I don't need you any more.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    Lucky for you.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Leave me the gaff.
    (Supre gives him the gaff, goes towards door, halts, looks at alarm-clock, takes it down, looks round for a better place to put it, goes to bins, puts it on lid of Nagg's bin. Pause.)
    SUPRE:
    I'll leave you.
    (He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Before you go...
    (Supre halts near door.)
    ...say something.
    SUPRE:
    There is nothing to say.
    FAXMAN:
    A few words... to ponder... in my heart.
    SUPRE:
    Your heart!
    FAXMAN:
    Yes.
    (Pause. Forcibly.)
    Yes!
    (Pause.)
    With the rest, in the end, the shadows, the murmurs, all the trouble, to end up with.
    (Pause.)
    Supre... He never spoke to me. Then, in the end, before he went, without my having asked him, he spoke to me. He said...
    SUPRE (despairingly):
    Ah...!
    FAXMAN:
    Something... from your heart.
    SUPRE:
    My heart!
    FAXMAN:
    A few words... from your heart.
    (Pause.)
    SUPRE (fixed gaze, tonelessly, towards auditorium):
    They said to me, That's love, yes, yes, not a doubt, now you see how—
    FAXMAN:
    Articulate!
    SUPRE (as before):
    How easy it is. They said to me, That's friendship, yes, yes, no question, you've found it. They said to me, Here's the place, stop, raise your head and look at all that beauty. That order! They said to me, Come now, you're not a brute beast, think upon these things and you'll see how all becomes clear. And simple! They said to me, What skilled attention they get, all these dying of their wounds.
    FAXMAN:
    Enough!
    SUPRE (as before):
    I say to myself— sometimes, Supre, you must learn to suffer better than that if you want them to weary of punishing you— one day. I say to myself—sometimes, Supre, you must be better than that if you want them to let you go—one day. But I feel too old, and too far, to form new habits. Good, it'll never end, I'll never go.
    (Pause.)
    Then one day, suddenly, it ends, it changes, I don't understand, it dies, or it's me, I don't understand that either. I ask the words that remain— sleeping, waking, morning, evening. They have nothing to say.
    (Pause.)
    I open the door of the cell and go. I am so bowed I only see my feet, if I open my eyes, and between my legs a little trail of black dust. I say to myself that the earth is extinguished, though I never saw it lit.
    (Pause.)
    It's easy going.
    (Pause.)
    When I fall I'll weep for happiness.
    (Pause. He goes towards door.)
    FAXMAN:
    Supre!
    (Supre halts, without turning.)
    Nothing.
    (Supre moves on.)
    Supre!
    (Supre halts, without turning.)
    SUPRE:
    This is what we call making an exit.
    FAXMAN:
    I'm obliged to you, Supre. For your services.
    SUPRE (turning sharply):
    Ah pardon, it's I am obliged to you.
    FAXMAN:
    It's we are obliged to each other.
    (Pause. Supre goes towards door.)
    One thing more.
    (Supre halts.)
    A last favor.
    (Exit Supre.)
    Cover me with the sheet.
    (Long pause.)
    No? Good.
    (Pause.)
    Me to play.
    (Pause. Wearily.)
    Old endgame lost of old, play and lose and have done with losing.
    (Pause. More animated.)
    Let me see.
    (Pause.)
    Ah yes!
    (He tries to move the chair, using the gaff as before. Enter Supre, dressed for the road. Panama hat, tweed coat, raincoat over his arm, umbrella, bag. He halts by the door and stands there, impassive and motionless, his eyes fixed on Faxman, till the end.)
    Faxman gives up:
    Good.
    (Pause.)
    Discard.
    (He throws away the gaff, makes to throw away the dog, thinks better of it.)
    Take it easy.
    (Pause.)
    And now?
    (Pause.)
    Raise hat.
    (He raises his toque.)
    Peace to our... arses.
    (Pause.)
    And put on again.
    (He puts on his toque.)
    Deuce.
    (Pause. He takes off his glasses.)
    Wipe.
    (He takes out his handkerchief and, without unfolding it, wipes his glasses.)
    And put on again.
    (He puts on his glasses, puts back the handkerchief in his pocket.)
    We're coming. A few more squirms like that and I'll call.
    (Pause.)
    A little poetry.
    (Pause.)
    You prayed—
    (Pause. He corrects himself.)
    You CRIED for night; it comes—
    (Pause. He corrects himself.)
    It FALLS: now cry in darkness.
    (He repeats, chanting.)
    You cried for night; it falls: now cry in darkness.
    (Pause.)
    Nicely put, that.
    (Pause.)
    And now?
    (Pause.)
    Moments for nothing, now as always, time was never and time is over, reckoning closed and story ended.
    (Pause. Narrative tone.)
    If he could have his child with him...
    (Pause.)
    It was the moment I was waiting for.
    (Pause.)
    You don't want to abandon him? You want him to bloom while you are withering? Be there to solace your last million last moments?
    (Pause.)
    He doesn't realize, all he knows is hunger, and cold, and death to crown it all. But you! You ought to know what the earth is like, nowadays. Oh I put him before his responsibilities!
    (Pause. Normal tone.)
    Well, there we are, there I am, that's enough.
    (He raises the whistle to his lips, hesitates, drops it. Pause.)
    Yes, truly!
    (He whistles. Pause. Louder. Pause.)
    Good.
    (Pause.)
    Father!
    (Pause. Louder.)
    Father!
    (Pause.)
    Good.
    (Pause.)
    We're coming.
    (Pause.)
    And to end up with?
    (Pause.)
    Discard.
    (He throws away the dog. He tears the whistle from his neck.)
    With my compliments.
    (He throws the whistle towards the auditorium. Pause. He sniffs. Soft.)
    Supre!
    (Long pause.)
    No? Good.
    (He takes out the handkerchief.)
    Since that's the way we're playing it...
    (he unfolds handkerchief)
    ...let's play it that way...
    (he unfolds)
    ...and speak no more about it...
    (he finishes unfolding)
    ...speak no more.
    (He holds handkerchief spread out before him.)
    Old stancher!
    (Pause.)
    You... remain.
    (Pause. He covers his face with handkerchief, lowers his arms to armrests, remains motionless.)
    (Brief tableau.)

    Curtain
    Quote Originally Posted by theklein25 View Post
    When Foster the People played Pumped Up Kicks I freaked the fuck out because I thought that song was long gone

  24. #17574
    VigoTheCarpathian
    Guest

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by TomAz View Post
    ACT II

    Next day. Same time.


    Same place.
    Estragon's boots front center, heels together, toes splayed.
    Lucky's hat at same place.
    The tree has four or five leaves.
    Enter Vladimir agitatedly. He halts and looks long at the tree, then suddenly begins to move feverishly about the stage. He halts before the boots, picks one up, examines it, sniffs it, manifests disgust, puts it back carefully. Comes and goes. Halts extreme right and gazes into distance off, shading his eyes with his hand. Comes and goes. Halts extreme left, as before. Comes and goes. Halts suddenly and begins to sing loudly.


    VLADIMIR:

    A dog came in–
    Having begun too high he stops, clears his throat, resumes:
    A dog came in the kitchen
    And stole a crust of bread.
    Then cook up with a ladle
    And beat him till he was dead.

    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb–

    He stops, broods, resumes:
    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb
    And wrote upon the tombstone
    For the eyes of dogs to come:

    A dog came in the kitchen
    And stole a crust of bread.
    Then cook up with a ladle
    And beat him till he was dead.

    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb–

    He stops, broods, resumes:
    Then all the dogs came running
    And dug the dog a tomb–

    He stops, broods. Softly.
    And dug the dog a tomb . . .
    He remains a moment silent and motionless, then begins to move feverishly about the stage. He halts before the tree, comes and goes, before the boots, comes and goes, halts extreme right, gazes into distance, extreme left, gazes into distance. Enter Estragon right, barefoot, head bowed. He slowly crosses the stage. Vladimir turns and sees him.
    VLADIMIR:
    You again! (Estragon halts but does not raise his head. Vladimir goes towards him.) Come here till I embrace you.
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't touch me!
    Vladimir holds back, pained.
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you want me to go away? (Pause.) Gogo! (Pause. Vladimir observes him attentively.) Did they beat you? (Pause.) Gogo! (Estragon remains silent, head bowed.) Where did you spend the night?
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't touch me! Don't question me! Don't speak to me! Stay with me!
    VLADIMIR:
    Did I ever leave you?
    ESTRAGON:
    You let me go.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look at me. (Estragon does not raise his head. Violently.) Will you look at me!
    Estragon raises his head. They look long at each other, then suddenly embrace, clapping each other on the back. End of the embrace. Estragon, no longer supported, almost falls.
    ESTRAGON:
    What a day!
    VLADIMIR:
    Who beat you? Tell me.
    ESTRAGON:
    Another day done with.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not yet.
    ESTRAGON:
    For me it's over and done with, no matter what happens. (Silence.) I heard you singing.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's right, I remember.
    ESTRAGON:
    That finished me. I said to myself, He's all alone, he thinks I'm gone for ever, and he sings.
    VLADIMIR:
    One is not master of one's moods. All day I've felt in great form. (Pause.) I didn't get up in the night, not once!
    ESTRAGON:
    (sadly). You see, you piss better when I'm not there.
    VLADIMIR:
    I missed you . . . and at the same time I was happy. Isn't that a strange thing?
    ESTRAGON:
    (shocked). Happy?
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps it's not quite the right word.
    ESTRAGON:
    And now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Now? . . . (Joyous.) There you are again . . . (Indifferent.) There we are again. . . (Gloomy.) There I am again.
    ESTRAGON:
    You see, you feel worse when I'm with you. I feel better alone too.
    VLADIMIR:
    (vexed). Then why do you always come crawling back?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, but I do. It's because you don't know how to defend yourself. I wouldn't have let them beat you.
    ESTRAGON:
    You couldn't have stopped them.
    VLADIMIR:
    Why not?
    ESTRAGON:
    There was ten of them.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean before they beat you. I would have stopped you from doing whatever it was you were doing.
    ESTRAGON:
    I wasn't doing anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then why did they beat you?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah no, Gogo, the truth is there are things that escape you that don't escape me, you must feel it yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you I wasn't doing anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps you weren't. But it's the way of doing it that counts, the way of doing it, if you want to go on living.
    ESTRAGON:
    I wasn't doing anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    You must be happy too, deep down, if you only knew it.
    ESTRAGON:
    Happy about what?
    VLADIMIR:
    To be back with me again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Would you say so?
    VLADIMIR:
    Say you are, even if it's not true.
    ESTRAGON:
    What am I to say?
    VLADIMIR:
    Say, I am happy.
    ESTRAGON:
    I am happy.
    VLADIMIR:
    So am I.
    ESTRAGON:
    So am I.
    VLADIMIR:
    We are happy.
    ESTRAGON:
    We are happy. (Silence.) What do we do now, now that we are happy?
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait for Godot. (Estragon groans. Silence.) Things have changed here since yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he doesn't come?
    VLADIMIR:
    (after a moment of bewilderment). We'll see when the time comes. (Pause.) I was saying that things have changed here since yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    Everything oozes.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look at the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's never the same pus from one second to the next.
    VLADIMIR:
    The tree, look at the tree.
    Estragon looks at the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    Was it not there yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes of course it was there. Do you not remember? We nearly hanged ourselves from it. But you wouldn't. Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    You dreamt it.
    VLADIMIR:
    Is it possible you've forgotten already?
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the way I am. Either I forget immediately or I never forget.
    VLADIMIR:
    And Pozzo and Lucky, have you forgotten them too?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo and Lucky?
    VLADIMIR:
    He's forgotten everything!
    ESTRAGON:
    I remember a lunatic who kicked the shins off me. Then he played the fool.
    VLADIMIR:
    That was Lucky.
    ESTRAGON:
    I remember that. But when was it?
    VLADIMIR:
    And his keeper, do you not remember him?
    ESTRAGON:
    He gave me a bone.
    VLADIMIR:
    That was Pozzo.
    ESTRAGON:
    And all that was yesterday, you say?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes of course it was yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    And here where we are now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Where else do you think? Do you not recognize the place?
    ESTRAGON:
    (suddenly furious). Recognize! What is there to recognize? All my lousy life I've crawled about in the mud! And you talk to me about scenery! (Looking wildly about him.) Look at this muckheap! I've never stirred from it!
    VLADIMIR:
    Calm yourself, calm yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    You and your landscapes! Tell me about the worms!
    VLADIMIR:
    All the same, you can't tell me that this (gesture) bears any resemblance to . . . (he hesitates) . . . to the Macon country for example. You can't deny there's a big difference.
    ESTRAGON:
    The Macon country! Who's talking to you about the Macon country?
    VLADIMIR:
    But you were there yourself, in the Macon country.
    ESTRAGON:
    No I was never in the Macon country! I've puked my puke of a life away here, I tell you! Here! In the Cackon country!
    VLADIMIR:
    But we were there together, I could swear to it! Picking grapes for a man called . . . (he snaps his fingers) . . . can't think of the name of the man, at a place called . . . (snaps his fingers) . . . can't think of the name of the place, do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    (a little calmer). It's possible. I didn't notice anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    But down there everything is red!
    ESTRAGON:
    (exasperated). I didn't notice anything, I tell you!
    Silence. Vladimir sighs deeply.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're a hard man to get on with, Gogo.
    ESTRAGON:
    It'd be better if we parted.
    VLADIMIR:
    You always say that and you always come crawling back.
    ESTRAGON:
    The best thing would be to kill me, like the other.
    VLADIMIR:
    What other? (Pause.) What other?
    ESTRAGON:
    Like billions of others.
    VLADIMIR:
    (sententious). To every man his little cross. (He sighs.) Till he dies. (Afterthought.) And is forgotten.
    ESTRAGON:
    In the meantime let us try and converse calmly, since we are incapable of keeping silent.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're right, we're inexhaustible.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's so we won't think.
    VLADIMIR:
    We have that excuse.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's so we won't hear.
    VLADIMIR:
    We have our reasons.
    ESTRAGON:
    All the dead voices.
    VLADIMIR:
    They make a noise like wings.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    VLADIMIR:
    Like sand.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    They all speak at once.
    ESTRAGON:
    Each one to itself.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Rather they whisper.
    ESTRAGON:
    They rustle.
    VLADIMIR:
    They murmur.
    ESTRAGON:
    They rustle.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What do they say?
    ESTRAGON:
    They talk about their lives.
    VLADIMIR:
    To have lived is not enough for them.
    ESTRAGON:
    They have to talk about it.
    VLADIMIR:
    To be dead is not enough for them.
    ESTRAGON:
    It is not sufficient.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    They make a noise like feathers.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    VLADIMIR:
    Likes ashes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Like leaves.
    Long silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Say something!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm trying.
    Long silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    (in anguish). Say anything at all!
    ESTRAGON:
    What do we do now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    This is awful!
    ESTRAGON:
    Sing something.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no! (He reflects.) We could start all over again perhaps.
    ESTRAGON:
    That should be easy.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's the start that's difficult.
    ESTRAGON:
    You can start from anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but you have to decide.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Help me!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm trying.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    When you seek you hear.
    ESTRAGON:
    You do.
    VLADIMIR:
    That prevents you from finding.
    ESTRAGON:
    It does.
    VLADIMIR:
    That prevents you from thinking.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think all the same.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no, it's impossible.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the idea, let's contradict each another.
    VLADIMIR:
    Impossible.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think so?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're in no danger of ever thinking any more.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then what are we complaining about?
    VLADIMIR:
    Thinking is not the worst.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps not. But at least there's that.
    VLADIMIR:
    That what?
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the idea, let's ask each other questions.
    VLADIMIR:
    What do you mean, at least there's that?
    ESTRAGON:
    That much less misery.
    VLADIMIR:
    True.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well? If we gave thanks for our mercies?
    VLADIMIR:
    What is terrible is to have thought.
    ESTRAGON:
    But did that ever happen to us?
    VLADIMIR:
    Where are all these corpses from?
    ESTRAGON:
    These skeletons.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell me that.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    We must have thought a little.
    ESTRAGON:
    At the very beginning.
    VLADIMIR:
    A charnel-house! A charnel-house!
    ESTRAGON:
    You don't have to look.
    VLADIMIR:
    You can't help looking.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try as one may.
    ESTRAGON:
    I beg your pardon?
    VLADIMIR:
    Try as one may.
    ESTRAGON:
    We should turn resolutely towards Nature.
    VLADIMIR:
    We've tried that.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh it's not the worst, I know.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    To have thought.
    ESTRAGON:
    Obviously.
    VLADIMIR:
    But we could have done without it.
    ESTRAGON:
    Que voulez-vous?
    VLADIMIR:
    I beg your pardon?
    ESTRAGON:
    Que voulez-vouz.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah! que voulez-vous. Exactly.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    That wasn't such a bad little canter.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but now we'll have to find something else.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let me see.
    He takes off his hat, concentrates.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let me see. (He takes off his hat, concentrates. Long silence.) Ah!
    They put on their hats, relax.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well?
    VLADIMIR:
    What was I saying, we could go on from there.
    ESTRAGON:
    What were you saying when?
    VLADIMIR:
    At the very beginning.
    ESTRAGON:
    The very beginning of WHAT?
    VLADIMIR:
    This evening . . . I was saying . . . I was saying . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm not a historian.
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait . . . we embraced . . . we were happy . . . happy . . . what do we do now that we're happy . . . go on waiting . . . waiting . . . let me think . . . it's coming . . . go on waiting . . . now that we're happy . . . let me see . . . ah! The tree!
    ESTRAGON:
    The tree?
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm tired.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look at it.
    They look at the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    I see nothing.
    VLADIMIR:
    But yesterday evening it was all black and bare. And now it's covered with leaves.
    ESTRAGON:
    Leaves?
    VLADIMIR:
    In a single night.
    ESTRAGON:
    It must be the Spring.
    VLADIMIR:
    But in a single night!
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you we weren't here yesterday. Another of your nightmares.
    VLADIMIR:
    And where were we yesterday evening according to you?
    ESTRAGON:
    How would I know? In another compartment. There's no lack of void.
    VLADIMIR:
    (sure of himself). Good. We weren't here yesterday evening. Now what did we do yesterday evening?
    ESTRAGON:
    Do?
    VLADIMIR:
    Try and remember.
    ESTRAGON:
    Do . . . I suppose we blathered.
    VLADIMIR:
    (controlling himself). About what?
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh . . . this and that I suppose, nothing in particular. (With assurance.) Yes, now I remember, yesterday evening we spent blathering about nothing in particular. That's been going on now for half a century.
    VLADIMIR:
    You don't remember any fact, any circumstance?
    ESTRAGON:
    (weary). Don't torment me, Didi.
    VLADIMIR:
    The sun. The moon. Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    They must have been there, as usual.
    VLADIMIR:
    You didn't notice anything out of the ordinary?
    ESTRAGON:
    Alas!
    VLADIMIR:
    And Pozzo? And Lucky?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo?
    VLADIMIR:
    The bones.
    ESTRAGON:
    They were like fishbones.
    VLADIMIR:
    It was Pozzo gave them to you.
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    And the kick.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's right, someone gave me a kick.
    VLADIMIR:
    It was Lucky gave it to you.
    ESTRAGON:
    And all that was yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me your leg.
    ESTRAGON:
    Which?
    VLADIMIR:
    Both. Pull up your trousers. (Estragon gives a leg to Vladimir, staggers. Vladimir takes the leg. They stagger.) Pull up your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    I can't.
    Vladimir pulls up the trousers, looks at the leg, lets it go. Estragon almost falls.
    VLADIMIR:
    The other. (Estragon gives the same leg.) The other, pig! (Estragon gives the other leg. Triumphantly.) There's the wound! Beginning to fester!
    ESTRAGON:
    And what about it?
    VLADIMIR:
    (letting go the leg). Where are your boots?
    ESTRAGON:
    I must have thrown them away.
    VLADIMIR:
    When?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    Why?
    ESTRAGON:
    (exasperated). I don't know why I don't know!
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean why did you throw them away?
    ESTRAGON:
    (exasperated). Because they were hurting me!
    VLADIMIR:
    (triumphantly, pointing to the boots). There they are! (Estragon looks at the boots.) At the very spot where you left them yesterday!
    Estragon goes towards the boots, inspects them closely.
    ESTRAGON:
    They're not mine.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stupefied). Not yours!
    ESTRAGON:
    Mine were black. These are brown.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're sure yours were black?
    ESTRAGON:
    Well they were a kind of gray.
    VLADIMIR:
    And these are brown. Show me.
    ESTRAGON:
    (picking up a boot). Well they're a kind of green.
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me. (Estragon hands him the boot. Vladimir inspects it, throws it down angrily.) Well of all the—
    ESTRAGON:
    You see, all that's a lot of bloody—
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah! I see what it is. Yes, I see what's happened.
    ESTRAGON:
    All that's a lot of bloody—
    VLADIMIR:
    It's elementary. Someone came and took yours and left you his.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why?
    VLADIMIR:
    His were too tight for him, so he took yours.
    ESTRAGON:
    But mine were too tight.
    VLADIMIR:
    For you. Not for him.
    ESTRAGON:
    (having tried in vain to work it out). I'm tired! (Pause.) Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Pause. Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
    VLADIMIR:
    There's nothing we can do.
    ESTRAGON:
    But I can't go on like this!
    VLADIMIR:
    Would you like a radish?
    ESTRAGON:
    Is that all there is?
    VLADIMIR:
    There are radishes and turnips.
    ESTRAGON:
    Are there no carrots?
    VLADIMIR:
    No. Anyway you overdo it with your carrots.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then give me a radish. (Vladimir fumbles in his pockets, finds nothing but turnips, finally brings out a radish and hands it to Estragon who examines it, sniffs it.) It's black!
    VLADIMIR:
    It's a radish.
    ESTRAGON:
    I only like the pink ones, you know that!
    VLADIMIR:
    Then you don't want it?
    ESTRAGON:
    I only like the pink ones!
    VLADIMIR:
    Then give it back to me.
    Estragon gives it back.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'll go and get a carrot.
    He does not move.
    VLADIMIR:
    This is becoming really insignificant.
    ESTRAGON:
    Not enough.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What about trying them.
    ESTRAGON:
    I've tried everything.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean the boots.
    ESTRAGON:
    Would that be a good thing?
    VLADIMIR:
    It'd pass the time. (Estragon hesitates.) I assure you, it'd be an occupation.
    ESTRAGON:
    A relaxation.
    VLADIMIR:
    A recreation.
    ESTRAGON:
    A relaxation.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try.
    ESTRAGON:
    You'll help me?
    VLADIMIR:
    I will of course.
    ESTRAGON:
    We don't manage too badly, eh Didi, between the two of us?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes yes. Come on, we'll try the left first.
    ESTRAGON:
    We always find something, eh Didi, to give us the impression we exist?
    VLADIMIR:
    (impatiently). Yes yes, we're magicians. But let us persevere in what we have resolved, before we forget. (He picks up a boot.) Come on, give me your foot. (Estragon raises his foot.) The other, hog! (Estragon raises the other foot.) Higher! #

    (Wreathed together they stagger about the stage. Vladimir succeeds finally in getting on the boot.) Try and walk. (Estragon walks.) Well?
    ESTRAGON:
    It fits.
    VLADIMIR:
    (taking string from his pocket). We'll try and lace it.
    ESTRAGON:
    (vehemently). No no, no laces, no laces!
    VLADIMIR:
    You'll be sorry. Let's try the other. (As before.) Well?
    ESTRAGON:
    (grudgingly). It fits too.
    VLADIMIR:
    They don't hurt you?
    ESTRAGON:
    Not yet.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then you can keep them.
    ESTRAGON:
    They're too big.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps you'll have socks some day.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then you'll keep them?
    ESTRAGON:
    That's enough about these boots.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but—
    ESTRAGON:
    (violently). Enough! (Silence.) I suppose I might as well sit down.
    He looks for a place to sit down, then goes and sits down on the mound.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's where you were sitting yesterday evening.
    ESTRAGON:
    If I could only sleep.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yesterday you slept.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'll try.
    He resumes his foetal posture, his head between his knees.
    VLADIMIR:
    Wait. (He goes over and sits down beside Estragon and begins to sing in a loud voice.)
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye– #





    ESTRAGON:
    (looking up angrily). Not so loud!
    VLADIMIR:
    (softly).
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye bye bye
    Bye bye . . .
    Estragon sleeps. Vladimir gets up softly, takes off his coat and lays it across Estragon's shoulders, then starts walking up and down, swinging his arms to keep himself warm. Estragon wakes with a start, jumps up, casts about wildly. Vladimir runs to him, puts his arms around him.) There . . . there . . . Didi is here . . . don't be afraid . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    VLADIMIR:
    There . . . there . . . it's all over.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was falling—
    VLADIMIR:
    It's all over, it's all over.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was on top of a—
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't tell me! Come, we'll walk it off.
    He takes Estragon by the arm and walks him up and down until Estragon refuses to go any further.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's enough. I'm tired.
    VLADIMIR:
    You'd rather be stuck there doing nothing?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    Please yourself.
    He releases Estragon, picks up his coat and puts it on.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Vladimir walks up and down.) Can you not stay still?
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm cold.
    ESTRAGON:
    We came too soon.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's always at nightfall.
    ESTRAGON:
    But night doesn't fall.
    VLADIMIR:
    It'll fall all of a sudden, like yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then it'll be night.
    VLADIMIR:
    And we can go.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then it'll be day again. (Pause. Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
    VLADIMIR:
    (halting, violently). Will you stop whining! I've had about my bellyful of your lamentations!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    (seeing Lucky's hat). Well!
    ESTRAGON:
    Farewell.
    VLADIMIR:
    Lucky's hat. (He goes towards it.) I've been here an hour and never saw it. (Very pleased.) Fine!
    ESTRAGON:
    You'll never see me again.
    VLADIMIR:
    I knew it was the right place. Now our troubles are over. (He picks up the hat, contemplates it, straightens it.) Must have been a very fine hat. (He puts it on in place of his own which he hands to Estragon.) Here.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Hold that.
    Estragon takes Vladimir's hat. Vladimir adjusts Lucky's hat on his head. Estragon puts on Vladimir's hat in place of his own which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes Estragon's hat. Estragon adjusts Vladimir's hat on his head. Vladimir puts on Estragon's hat in place of Lucky's which he hands to Estragon. Estragon takes Lucky's hat. Vladimir adjusts Estragon's hat on his head. Estragon puts on Lucky's hat in place of Vladimir's which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes his hat, Estragon adjusts Lucky's hat on his head. Vladimir puts on his hat in place of Estragon's which he hands to Estragon. Estragon takes his hat. Vladimir adjusts his hat on his head. Estragon puts on his hat in place of Lucky's which he hands to Vladimir. Vladimir takes Lucky's hat. Estragon adjusts his hat on his head. Vladimir puts on Lucky's hat in place of his own which he hands to Estragon. Estragon takes Vladimir's hat. Vladimir adjusts Lucky's hat on his head. Estragon hands Vladimir's hat back to Vladimir who takes it and hands it back to Estragon who takes it and hands it back to Vladimir who takes it and throws it down.
    How does it fit me?
    ESTRAGON:
    How would I know?
    VLADIMIR:
    No, but how do I look in it?
    He turns his head coquettishly to and fro, minces like a mannequin.
    ESTRAGON:
    Hideous.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but not more so than usual?
    ESTRAGON:
    Neither more nor less.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then I can keep it. Mine irked me. (Pause.) How shall I say? (Pause.) It itched me.
    He takes off Lucky's hat, peers into it, shakes it, knocks on the crown, puts it on again.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Will you not play?
    ESTRAGON:
    Play at what?
    VLADIMIR:
    We could play at Pozzo and Lucky.
    ESTRAGON:
    Never heard of it.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll do Lucky, you do Pozzo. (He imitates Lucky sagging under the weight of his baggage. Estragon looks at him with stupefaction.) Go on.
    ESTRAGON:
    What am I to do?
    VLADIMIR:
    Curse me!
    ESTRAGON:
    (after reflection). Naughty!
    VLADIMIR:
    Stronger!
    ESTRAGON:
    Gonococcus! Spirochete!
    Vladimir sways back and forth, doubled in two.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell me to think.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Say, Think, pig!
    ESTRAGON:
    Think, pig!
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    I can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    That's enough of that.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell me to dance.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Dance, hog! (He writhes. Exit Estragon left, precipitately.) I can't! (He looks up, misses Estragon.) Gogo! (He moves wildly about the stage. Enter Estragon left, panting. He hastens towards Vladimir, falls into his arms.) There you are again at last!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm accursed!
    VLADIMIR:
    Where were you? I thought you were gone for ever.
    ESTRAGON:
    They're coming!
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    How many?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    (triumphantly). It's Godot! At last! Gogo! It's Godot! We're saved! Let's go and meet him! (He drags Estragon towards the wings. Estragon resists, pulls himself free, exit right.) Gogo! Come back! (Vladimir runs to extreme left, scans the horizon. Enter Estragon right, he hastens towards Vladimir, falls into his arms.) There you are again again!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm in hell!
    VLADIMIR:
    Where were you?
    ESTRAGON:
    They're coming there too!
    VLADIMIR:
    We're surrounded! (Estragon makes a rush towards back.) Imbecile! There's no way out there. (He takes Estragon by the arm and drags him towards front. Gesture towards front.) There! Not a soul in sight! Off you go! Quick! (He pushes Estragon towards auditorium. Estragon recoils in horror.) You won't? (He contemplates auditorium.) Well I can understand that. Wait till I see. (He reflects.) Your only hope left is to disappear.
    ESTRAGON:
    Where?
    VLADIMIR:
    Behind the tree. (Estragon hesitates.) Quick! Behind the tree. (Estragon goes and crouches behind the tree, realizes he is not hidden, comes out from behind the tree.) Decidedly this tree will not have been the slightest use to us.
    ESTRAGON:
    (calmer). I lost my head. Forgive me. It won't happen again. Tell me what to do.
    VLADIMIR:
    There's nothing to do.
    ESTRAGON:
    You go and stand there. (He draws Vladimir to extreme right and places him with his back to the stage.) There, don't move, and watch out. (Vladimir scans horizon, screening his eyes with his hand. Estragon runs and takes up same position extreme left. They turn their heads and look at each other.) Back to back like in the good old days. (They continue to look at each other for a moment, then resume their watch. Long silence.) Do you see anything coming?
    VLADIMIR:
    (turning his head). What?
    ESTRAGON:
    (louder). Do you see anything coming?
    VLADIMIR:
    No.
    ESTRAGON:
    Nor I.
    They resume their watch. Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    You must have had a vision.
    ESTRAGON:
    (turning his head). What?
    VLADIMIR:
    (louder). You must have had a vision.
    ESTRAGON:
    No need to shout!
    They resume their watch. Silence.
    VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
    (turning simultaneously). Do you—
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh pardon!
    ESTRAGON:
    Carry on.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no, after you.
    ESTRAGON:
    No no, you first.
    VLADIMIR:
    I interrupted you.
    ESTRAGON:
    On the contrary.
    They glare at each other angrily.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ceremonious ape!
    ESTRAGON:
    Punctilious pig!
    VLADIMIR:
    Finish your phrase, I tell you!
    ESTRAGON:
    Finish your own!
    Silence. They draw closer, halt.
    VLADIMIR:
    Moron!
    ESTRAGON:
    That's the idea, let's abuse each other.
    They turn, move apart, turn again and face each other.
    VLADIMIR:
    Moron!
    ESTRAGON:
    Vermin!
    VLADIMIR:
    Abortion!
    ESTRAGON:
    Morpion!
    VLADIMIR:
    Sewer-rat!
    ESTRAGON:
    Curate!
    VLADIMIR:
    Cretin!
    ESTRAGON:
    (with finality). Crritic!
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh!
    He wilts, vanquished, and turns away.
    ESTRAGON:
    Now let's make it up.
    VLADIMIR:
    Gogo!
    ESTRAGON:
    Didi!
    VLADIMIR:
    Your hand!
    ESTRAGON:
    Take it!
    VLADIMIR:
    Come to my arms!
    ESTRAGON:
    Yours arms?
    VLADIMIR:
    My breast!
    ESTRAGON:
    Off we go!
    They embrace. #

    They separate. Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    How time flies when one has fun!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    What do we do now?
    VLADIMIR:
    While waiting.
    ESTRAGON:
    While waiting.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    We could do our exercises.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our movements.
    VLADIMIR:
    Our elevations.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our relaxations.
    VLADIMIR:
    Our elongations.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our relaxations.
    VLADIMIR:
    To warm us up.
    ESTRAGON:
    To calm us down.
    VLADIMIR:
    Off we go.
    Vladimir hops from one foot to the other. Estragon imitates him.
    ESTRAGON:
    (stopping). That's enough. I'm tired.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stopping). We're not in form. What about a little deep breathing?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm tired breathing.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're right. (Pause.) Let's just do the tree, for the balance.
    ESTRAGON:
    The tree?
    Vladimir does the tree, staggering about on one leg.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stopping). Your turn.
    Estragon does the tree, staggers.
    ESTRAGON:
    Do you think God sees me?
    VLADIMIR:
    You must close your eyes.
    Estragon closes his eyes, staggers worse.
    ESTRAGON:
    (stopping, brandishing his fists, at the top of his voice.) God have pity on me!
    VLADIMIR:
    (vexed). And me?
    ESTRAGON:
    On me! On me! Pity! On me!
    Enter Pozzo and Lucky. Pozzo is blind. Lucky burdened as before. Rope as before, but much shorter, so that Pozzo may follow more easily. Lucky wearing a different hat. At the sight of Vladimir and Estragon he stops short. Pozzo, continuing on his way, bumps into him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Gogo!
    POZZO:
    (clutching onto Lucky who staggers). What is it? Who is it?
    Lucky falls, drops everything and brings down Pozzo with him. They lie helpless among the scattered baggage.
    ESTRAGON:
    Is it Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    At last! (He goes towards the heap.) Reinforcements at last!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Is it Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    We were beginning to weaken. Now we're sure to see the evening out.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Do you hear him?
    VLADIMIR:
    We are no longer alone, waiting for the night, waiting for Godot, waiting for . . . waiting. All evening we have struggled, unassisted. Now it's over. It's already tomorrow.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    Time flows again already. The sun will set, the moon rise, and we away . . . from here.
    POZZO:
    Pity!
    VLADIMIR:
    Poor Pozzo!
    ESTRAGON:
    I knew it was him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    Godot.
    VLADIMIR:
    But it's not Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's not Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    It's not Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then who is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    It's Pozzo.
    POZZO:
    Here! Here! Help me up!
    VLADIMIR:
    He can't get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps he has another bone for you.
    ESTRAGON:
    Bone?
    VLADIMIR:
    Chicken. Do you not remember?
    ESTRAGON:
    It was him?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ask him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps we should help him first.
    ESTRAGON:
    To do what?
    VLADIMIR:
    To get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    He can't get up?
    VLADIMIR:
    He wants to get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then let him get up.
    VLADIMIR:
    He can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know.
    Pozzo writhes, groans, beats the ground with his fists.
    ESTRAGON:
    We should ask him for the bone first. Then if he refuses we'll leave him there.
    VLADIMIR:
    You mean we have him at our mercy?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    And that we should subordinate our good offices to certain conditions?
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    That seems intelligent all right. But there's one thing I'm afraid of.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    That Lucky might get going all of a sudden. Then we'd be ballocksed.
    ESTRAGON:
    Lucky?
    VLADIMIR:
    The one that went for you yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you there was ten of them.
    VLADIMIR:
    No, before that, the one that kicked you.
    ESTRAGON:
    Is he there?
    VLADIMIR:
    As large as life. (Gesture towards Lucky.) For the moment he is inert. But he might run amuck any minute.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    And suppose we gave him a good beating, the two of us.
    VLADIMIR:
    You mean if we fell on him in his sleep?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    That seems a good idea all right. But could we do it? Is he really asleep? (Pause.) No, the best would be to take advantage of Pozzo's calling for help—
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    To help him—
    ESTRAGON:
    We help him?
    VLADIMIR:
    In anticipation of some tangible return.
    ESTRAGON:
    And suppose he—
    VLADIMIR:
    Let us not waste our time in idle discourse! (Pause. Vehemently.) Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us! What do you say? (Estragon says nothing.) It is true that when with folded arms we weigh the pros and cons we are no less a credit to our species. The tiger bounds to the help of his congeners without the least reflection, or else he slinks away into the depths of the thickets. But that is not the question. What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in this immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come—
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    Or for night to fall. (Pause.) We have kept our appointment and that's an end to that. We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much?
    ESTRAGON:
    Billions.
    VLADIMIR:
    You think so?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    You may be right.
    POZZO:
    Help! #



    VLADIMIR:
    All I know is that the hours are long, under these conditions, and constrain us to beguile them with proceedings which –how shall I say– which may at first sight seem reasonable, until they become a habit. You may say it is to prevent our reason from foundering. No doubt. But has it not long been straying in the night without end of the abyssal depths? That's what I sometimes wonder. You follow my reasoning?
    ESTRAGON:
    (aphoristic for once). We are all born mad. Some remain so.
    POZZO:
    Help! I'll pay you!
    ESTRAGON:
    How much?
    POZZO:
    One hundred francs!
    ESTRAGON:
    It's not enough.
    VLADIMIR:
    I wouldn't go so far as that.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think it's enough?
    VLADIMIR:
    No, I mean so far as to assert that I was weak in the head when I came into the world. But that is not the question.
    POZZO:
    Two hundred!
    VLADIMIR:
    We wait. We are bored. (He throws up his hand.) No, don't protest, we are bored to death, there's no denying it. Good. A diversion comes along and what do we do? We let it go to waste. Come, let's get to work! (He advances towards the heap, stops in his stride.) In an instant all will vanish and we'll be alone once more, in the midst of nothingness!
    He broods.
    POZZO:
    Two hundred!
    VLADIMIR:
    We're coming!
    He tries to pull Pozzo to his feet, fails, tries again, stumbles, falls, tries to get up, fails.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's the matter with you all?
    VLADIMIR:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't leave me! They'll kill me!
    POZZO:
    Where am I?
    VLADIMIR:
    Gogo!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Help me up first, then we'll go together.
    ESTRAGON:
    You promise?
    VLADIMIR:
    I swear it!
    ESTRAGON:
    And we'll never come back?
    VLADIMIR:
    Never!
    ESTRAGON:
    We'll go to the Pyrenees.
    VLADIMIR:
    Wherever you like.
    ESTRAGON:
    I've always wanted to wander in the Pyrenees.
    VLADIMIR:
    You'll wander in them.
    ESTRAGON:
    (recoiling). Who farted?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pozzo.
    POZZO:
    Here! Here! Pity!
    ESTRAGON:
    It's revolting!
    VLADIMIR:
    Quick! Give me your hand!
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going. (Pause. Louder.) I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well I suppose in the end I'll get up by myself. (He tries, fails.) In the fullness of time.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's the matter with you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Go to hell.
    ESTRAGON:
    Are you staying there?
    VLADIMIR:
    For the time being.
    ESTRAGON:
    Come on, get up, you'll catch a chill.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't worry about me.
    ESTRAGON:
    Come on, Didi, don't be pig-headed!
    He stretches out his hand which Vladimir makes haste to seize.
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull!
    Estragon pulls, stumbles, falls. Long silence.
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    We've arrived.
    POZZO:
    Who are you?
    VLADIMIR:
    We are men.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Sweet mother earth!
    VLADIMIR:
    Can you get up?
    ESTRAGON:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try.
    ESTRAGON:
    Not now, not now.
    Silence.
    POZZO:
    What happened?
    VLADIMIR:
    (violently). Will you stop it, you! Pest! He can think of nothing but himself!
    ESTRAGON:
    What about a little snooze?
    VLADIMIR:
    Did you hear him? He wants to know what happened!
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't mind him. Sleep.
    Silence.
    POZZO:
    Pity! Pity!
    ESTRAGON:
    (with a start). What is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    Were you asleep?
    ESTRAGON:
    I must have been.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's this bastard Pozzo at it again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Make him stop it. Kick him in the crotch.
    VLADIMIR:
    (striking Pozzo). Will you stop it! Crablouse! (Pozzo extricates himself with cries of pain and crawls away. He stops, saws the air blindly, calling for help. Vladimir, propped on his elbow, observes his retreat.) He's off! (Pozzo collapses.) He's down!
    #


    ESTRAGON:
    What do we do now?
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps I could crawl to him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't leave me!
    VLADIMIR:
    Or I could call to him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes, call to him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Pozzo! (Silence.) Pozzo! (Silence.) No reply.
    ESTRAGON:
    Together.
    VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo! Pozzo!
    VLADIMIR:
    He moved.
    ESTRAGON:
    Are you sure his name is Pozzo?
    VLADIMIR:
    (alarmed). Mr. Pozzo! Come back! We won't hurt you!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    We might try him with other names.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm afraid he's dying.
    ESTRAGON:
    It'd be amusing.
    VLADIMIR:
    What'd be amusing?
    ESTRAGON:
    To try him with other names, one after the other. It'd pass the time. And we'd be bound to hit on the right one sooner or later.
    VLADIMIR:
    I tell you his name is Pozzo.
    ESTRAGON:
    We'll soon see. (He reflects.) Abel! Abel!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Got it in one!
    VLADIMIR:
    I begin to weary of this motif.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps the other is called Cain. Cain! Cain!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    He's all humanity. (Silence.) Look at the little cloud.
    VLADIMIR:
    (raising his eyes). Where?
    ESTRAGON:
    There. In the zenith.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well? (Pause.) What is there so wonderful about it?
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's pass on now to something else, do you mind?
    VLADIMIR:
    I was just going to suggest it.
    ESTRAGON:
    But to what?
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Suppose we got up to begin with?
    VLADIMIR:
    No harm trying.
    They get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Child's play.
    VLADIMIR:
    Simple question of will-power.
    ESTRAGON:
    And now?
    POZZO:
    Help!
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Despairing.) What'll we do, what'll we do!
    POZZO:
    Help!
    VLADIMIR:
    What about helping him?
    ESTRAGON:
    What does he want?
    VLADIMIR:
    He wants to get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then why doesn't he?
    VLADIMIR:
    He wants us to help him get up.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then why don't we? What are we waiting for?
    They help Pozzo to his feet, let him go. He falls.
    VLADIMIR:
    We must hold him. (They get him up again. Pozzo sags between them, his arms round their necks.) #

    Feeling better?
    POZZO:
    Who are you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you not recognize us?
    POZZO:
    I am blind.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps he can see into the future.
    VLADIMIR:
    Since when?
    POZZO:
    I used to have wonderful sight— but are you friends?
    ESTRAGON:
    (laughing noisily). He wants to know if we are friends!
    VLADIMIR:
    No, he means friends of his.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well?
    VLADIMIR:
    We've proved we are, by helping him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Exactly. Would we have helped him if we weren't his friends?
    VLADIMIR:
    Possibly.
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't let's quibble about that now.
    POZZO:
    You are not highwaymen?
    ESTRAGON:
    Highwaymen! Do we look like highwaymen?
    VLADIMIR:
    Damn it, can't you see the man is blind!
    ESTRAGON:
    Damn it, so he is. (Pause.) So he says.
    POZZO:
    Don't leave me!
    VLADIMIR:
    No question of it.
    ESTRAGON:
    For the moment.
    POZZO:
    What time is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    (inspecting the sky). Seven o'clock . . . eight o'clock . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    That depends what time of year it is.
    POZZO:
    Is it evening?
    Silence. Vladimir and Estragon scrutinize the sunset.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's rising.
    VLADIMIR:
    Impossible.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps it's the dawn.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't be a fool. It's the west over there.
    ESTRAGON:
    How do you know?
    POZZO:
    (anguished). Is it evening?
    VLADIMIR:
    Anyway, it hasn't moved.
    ESTRAGON:
    I tell you it's rising.
    POZZO:
    Why don't you answer me?
    ESTRAGON:
    Give us a chance.
    VLADIMIR:
    (reassuring). It's evening, Sir, it's evening, night is drawing nigh. My friend here would have me doubt it and I must confess he shook me for a moment. But it is not for nothing I have lived through this long day and I can assure you it is very near the end of its repertory. (Pause.) How do you feel now?
    ESTRAGON:
    How much longer are we to cart him around? (They half release him, catch him again as he falls.) We are not caryatids!
    VLADIMIR:
    You were saying your sight used to be good, if I heard you right.
    POZZO:
    Wonderful! Wonderful, wonderful sight!
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    (irritably). Expand! Expand!
    VLADIMIR:
    Let him alone. Can't you see he's thinking of the days when he was happy. (Pause.) Memoria praeteritorum bonorum— that must be unpleasant.
    ESTRAGON:
    We wouldn't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    And it came on you all of a sudden?
    POZZO:
    Quite wonderful!
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm asking you if it came on you all of a sudden.
    POZZO:
    I woke up one fine day as blind as Fortune. (Pause.) Sometimes I wonder if I'm not still asleep.
    VLADIMIR:
    And when was that?
    POZZO:
    I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    But no later than yesterday—
    POZZO:
    (violently). Don't question me! The blind have no notion of time. The things of time are hidden from them too.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well just fancy that! I could have sworn it was just the opposite.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    POZZO:
    Where are we?
    VLADIMIR:
    I couldn't tell you.
    POZZO:
    It isn't by any chance the place known as the Board?
    VLADIMIR:
    Never heard of it.
    POZZO:
    What is it like?
    VLADIMIR:
    (looking round). It's indescribable. It's like nothing. There's nothing. There's a tree.
    POZZO:
    Then it's not the Board.
    ESTRAGON:
    (sagging). Some diversion!
    POZZO:
    Where is my menial?
    VLADIMIR:
    He's about somewhere.
    POZZO:
    Why doesn't he answer when I call?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know. He seems to be sleeping. Perhaps he's dead.
    POZZO:
    What happened, exactly?
    ESTRAGON:
    Exactly!
    VLADIMIR:
    The two of you slipped. (Pause.) And fell.
    POZZO:
    Go and see is he hurt.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't leave you.
    POZZO:
    You needn't both go.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). You go.
    ESTRAGON:
    After what he did to me? Never!
    POZZO:
    Yes yes, let your friend go, he stinks so. (Silence.) What is he waiting for?
    VLADIMIR:
    What are you waiting for?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm waiting for Godot.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What exactly should he do?
    POZZO:
    Well to begin with he should pull on the rope, as hard as he likes so long as he doesn't strangle him. He usually responds to that. If not he should give him a taste of his boot, in the face and the privates as far as possible.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). You see, you've nothing to be afraid of. It's even an opportunity to revenge yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he defends himself?
    POZZO:
    No no, he never defends himself.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll come flying to the rescue.
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't take your eyes off me.
    He goes towards Lucky.
    VLADIMIR:
    Make sure he's alive before you start. No point in exerting yourself if he's dead.
    ESTRAGON:
    (bending over Lucky). He's breathing.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then let him have it.
    With sudden fury Estragon starts kicking Lucky, hurling abuse at him as he does so. But he hurts his foot and moves away, limping and groaning. Lucky stirs.
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh the brute!
    He sits down on the mound and tries to take off his boot. But he soon desists and disposes himself for sleep, his arms on his knees and his head on his arms.
    POZZO:
    What's gone wrong now?
    VLADIMIR:
    My friend has hurt himself.
    POZZO:
    And Lucky?
    VLADIMIR:
    So it is he?
    POZZO:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    It is Lucky?
    POZZO:
    I don't understand.
    VLADIMIR:
    And you are Pozzo?
    POZZO:
    Certainly I am Pozzo.
    VLADIMIR:
    The same as yesterday?
    POZZO:
    Yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    We met yesterday. (Silence.) Do you not remember?
    POZZO:
    I don't remember having met anyone yesterday. But tomorrow I won't remember having met anyone today. So don't count on me to enlighten you.
    VLADIMIR:
    But—
    POZZO:
    Enough! Up pig!
    VLADIMIR:
    You were bringing him to the fair to sell him. You spoke to us. He danced. He thought. You had your sight.
    POZZO:
    As you please. Let me go! (Vladimir moves away.) Up!
    Lucky gets up, gathers up his burdens.
    VLADIMIR:
    Where do you go from here?
    POZZO:
    On. (Lucky, laden down, takes his place before Pozzo.) Whip! (Lucky puts everything down, looks for whip, finds it, puts it into Pozzo's hand, takes up everything again.) Rope!
    Lucky puts everything down, puts end of rope into Pozzo's hand, takes up everything again.
    VLADIMIR:
    What is there in the bag?
    POZZO:
    Sand. (He jerks the rope.) On!
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't go yet.
    POZZO:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    What do you do when you fall far from help?
    POZZO:
    We wait till we can get up. Then we go on. On!
    VLADIMIR:
    Before you go tell him to sing.
    POZZO:
    Who?
    VLADIMIR:
    Lucky.
    POZZO:
    To sing?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes. Or to think. Or to recite.
    POZZO:
    But he is dumb.
    VLADIMIR:
    Dumb!
    POZZO:
    Dumb. He can't even groan.
    VLADIMIR:
    Dumb! Since when?
    POZZO:
    (suddenly furious.) Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? (Calmer.) They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more. (He jerks the rope.) On!
    Exeunt Pozzo and Lucky. Vladimir follows them to the edge of the stage, looks after them. The noise of falling, reinforced by mimic of Vladimir, announces that they are down again. Silence. Vladimir goes towards Estragon, contemplates him a moment, then shakes him awake.
    ESTRAGON:
    (wild gestures, incoherent words. Finally.) Why will you never let me sleep?
    VLADIMIR:
    I felt lonely.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was dreaming I was happy.
    VLADIMIR:
    That passed the time.
    ESTRAGON:
    I was dreaming that—
    VLADIMIR:
    (violently). Don't tell me! (Silence.) I wonder is he really blind.
    ESTRAGON:
    Blind? Who?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pozzo.
    ESTRAGON:
    Blind?
    VLADIMIR:
    He told us he was blind.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well what about it?
    VLADIMIR:
    It seemed to me he saw us.
    ESTRAGON:
    You dreamt it. (Pause.) Let's go. We can't. Ah! (Pause.) Are you sure it wasn't him?
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    Godot.
    VLADIMIR:
    But who?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not at all! (Less sure.) Not at all! (Still less sure.) Not at all!
    ESTRAGON:
    I suppose I might as well get up. (He gets up painfully.) Ow! Didi!
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know what to think any more.
    ESTRAGON:
    My feet! (He sits down again and tries to take off his boots.) Help me!
    VLADIMIR:
    Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of today? That with Estragon my friend, at this place, until the fall of night, I waited for Godot? That Pozzo passed, with his carrier, and that he spoke to us? Probably. But in all that what truth will there be?
    (Estragon, having struggled with his boots in vain, is dozing off again. Vladimir looks at him.) He'll know nothing. He'll tell me about the blows he received and I'll give him a carrot. (Pause.) Astride of a grave and a difficult birth. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave digger puts on the forceps. We have time to grow old. The air is full of our cries. (He listens.) But habit is a great deadener. (He looks again at Estragon.) At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing, let him sleep on. (Pause.) I can't go on! (Pause.) What have I said?
    He goes feverishly to and fro, halts finally at extreme left, broods. Enter Boy right. He halts. Silence.
    BOY:
    Mister . . . (Vladimir turns.) Mister Albert . . .
    VLADIMIR:
    Off we go again. (Pause.) Do you not recognize me?
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    It wasn't you came yesterday.
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    This is your first time.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    You have a message from Mr. Godot.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    He won't come this evening.
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    But he'll come tomorrow.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Without fail.
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Did you meet anyone?
    BOY:
    No Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Two other . . . (he hesitates) . . . men?
    BOY:
    I didn't see anyone, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    What does he do, Mr. Godot? (Silence.) Do you hear me? #

    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well?
    BOY:
    He does nothing, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    How is your brother?
    BOY:
    He's sick, Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps it was he came yesterday.
    BOY:
    I don't know, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    (softly). Has he a beard, Mr. Godot?
    BOY:
    Yes Sir.
    VLADIMIR:
    Fair or . . . (he hesitates) . . . or black?
    BOY:
    I think it's white, Sir.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Christ have mercy on us!
    Silence.
    BOY:
    What am I to tell Mr. Godot, Sir?
    VLADIMIR:
    Tell him . . . (he hesitates) . . . tell him you saw me and that . . . (he hesitates) . . . that you saw me. (Pause. Vladimir advances, the Boy recoils. Vladimir halts, the Boy halts. With sudden violence.) You're sure you saw me, you won't come and tell me tomorrow that you never saw me!
    Silence. Vladimir makes a sudden spring forward, the Boy avoids him and exits running. Silence. The sun sets, the moon rises. As in Act 1. Vladimir stands motionless and bowed. Estragon wakes, takes off his boots, gets up with one in each hand and goes and puts them down center front, then goes towards Vladimir.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's wrong with you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Nothing.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    VLADIMIR:
    So am I.
    ESTRAGON:
    Was I long asleep?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Where shall we go?
    VLADIMIR:
    Not far.
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh yes, let's go far away from here.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We have to come back tomorrow.
    ESTRAGON:
    What for?
    VLADIMIR:
    To wait for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! (Silence.) He didn't come?
    VLADIMIR:
    No.
    ESTRAGON:
    And now it's too late.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, now it's night.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if we dropped him? (Pause.) If we dropped him?
    VLADIMIR:
    He'd punish us. (Silence. He looks at the tree.) Everything's dead but the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    (looking at the tree). What is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    It's the tree.
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes, but what kind?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know. A willow.
    Estragon draws Vladimir towards the tree. They stand motionless before it. Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why don't we hang ourselves?
    VLADIMIR:
    With what?
    ESTRAGON:
    You haven't got a bit of rope?
    VLADIMIR:
    No.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then we can't.
    Silence.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let's go.
    ESTRAGON:
    Wait, there's my belt.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's too short.
    ESTRAGON:
    You could hang onto my legs.
    VLADIMIR:
    And who'd hang onto mine?
    ESTRAGON:
    True.
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me all the same. (Estragon loosens the cord that holds up his trousers which, much too big for him, fall about his ankles. They look at the cord.) It might do in a pinch. But is it strong enough?
    ESTRAGON:
    We'll soon see. Here.
    They each take an end of the cord and pull. #

    It breaks. They almost fall.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not worth a curse.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    You say we have to come back tomorrow?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Then we can bring a good bit of rope.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    Didi?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    I can't go on like this.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's what you think.
    ESTRAGON:
    If we parted? That might be better for us.
    VLADIMIR:
    We'll hang ourselves tomorrow. (Pause.) Unless Godot comes.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he comes?
    VLADIMIR:
    We'll be saved.
    Vladimir takes off his hat (Lucky's), peers inside it, feels about inside it, shakes it, knocks on the crown, puts it on again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well? Shall we go?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull on your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull on your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    You want me to pull off my trousers?
    VLADIMIR:
    Pull ON your trousers.
    ESTRAGON:
    (realizing his trousers are down). True.
    He pulls up his trousers.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well? Shall we go?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes, let's go.
    They do not move.


    Curtain.
    THIS IS ABSURD

  25. #17575

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by SepaGroove View Post
    A repost? Really?

    Eat penguin shit you ass spelunker.
    Hard to find the original post since so much poop is being posted.
    Quote Originally Posted by mrhand View Post
    Keep on chugging. 788 more posts and you can submit your application.
    PARTYNEXTDOOR for 2014

  26. #17576
    Member billyh0's Avatar
    Join Date
    Mar 2012
    Location
    Stockton, CA
    Posts
    51

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Quote Originally Posted by malcolmjamalawesome View Post
    I wonder if the main stage will catch on fire during the xx again
    I remember this... Then they started singing "The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire!"

  27. #17577

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    so who still thinks the lineup will get posted this afternoon? im not holding my breath...

  28. #17578

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    LOL, very well then... continue jerking... can't wait for act 3 of Vladimir and Estrogen

  29. #17579
    old school xanman86's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Bay Area
    Posts
    4,731

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread


    Facebook // Twitter // Blog // Tumblr // Instagram
    Coachella: 04,06,07,09,10,11,12(1&2),13(1&2),14(1&2)
    Upcoming shows
    Swans 9/8, Modest Mouse 9/26, Cibo Matto 10/4, The Weeknd/Schoolboy Q/Jhene Aiko 10/10, Placebo 10/23, Charli XCX 10/25, Digitalism 11/7, First Aid Kit 11/13, Tame Impala 11/15, Sky Ferreira 11/23&24
    Events
    Mad Decent Block Party 9/19, Holy Ship! 1/3-6/2015, Coachella 4/10-12&17-19/2015

  30. #17580

    Default Re: 2013 Lineup Confirmation/Rumors Thread

    Man Sonny's face is so messed up.

    Xan why do you hit every picture with the head-tilt? Lol

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