Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett Page A

It’s too much for one man. (
Pause. Cheerfully
.) On the other hand what’s the good of losing heart now, that’s what I say. We should have thought of it a million years ago, in the nineties.
    ESTRAGON : Ah stop blathering and help me off with this bloody thing.
    VLADIMIR : Hand in hand from the top of the Eiffel Tower, among the first. We were respectable in those days. Now it’s too late. They wouldn’t even let us up. (
Estragon tears at his boot
.) What are you doing?
    ESTRAGON : Taking off my boot. Did that never happen to you?
    VLADIMIR : Boots must be taken off every day, I’m tired telling you that. Why don’t you listen to me?
    ESTRAGON : (
feebly
). Help me!
    VLADIMIR : It hurts?
    ESTRAGON : (
angrily
). Hurts! He wants to know if it hurts!
    VLADIMIR : (
angrily
). No one ever suffers but you. I don’t count. I’d like to hear what you’d say if you had what I have.
    ESTRAGON : It hurts?
    VLADIMIR : (
angrily
). Hurts! He wants to know if it hurts!
    ESTRAGON : (
pointing
). You might button it all the same.
    VLADIMIR : (
stooping
). True. (
He buttons his fly
.) Never neglect the little things of life.
    ESTRAGON : What do you expect, you always wait till the last moment.
    VLADIMIR : (
musingly
). The last moment . . . (
He meditates
.) Hope deferred maketh the something sick, who said that?
    ESTRAGON : Why don’t you help me?
    VLADIMIR : Sometimes I feel it coming all the same. Then I go all queer. (
He takes off his hat, peers inside it, feels about inside it, shakes it, puts it on again
.) How shall l say? Relieved and at the same time . . . (
he searches for the word
) . . . appalled. (
With emphasis
.) AP-PALLED. (
He takes off his hat again, peers inside it
.) Funny. (
He knocks on the crown as though to dislodge a foreign body, peers into it again, puts it on again
.) Nothing to be done. (
Estragon with a supreme effort succeeds in pulling off his boot. He peers inside it, feels about inside it, turns it upside down, shakes it, looks on the ground to see if anything has fallen out, finds nothing, feels inside it again, staring sightlessly before him
.) Well?
    ESTRAGON : Nothing.
    VLADIMIR : Show.
    ESTRAGON : There’s nothing to show.
    VLADIMIR : Try and put it on again.
    ESTRAGON : (
examining his foot
). I’ll air it for a bit.
    VLADIMIR : There’s man all over for you, blaming on his boots the faults of his feet. (
He takes off his hat again
,
peers inside it, feels about inside it, knocks on the crown, blows into it, puts it on again
.) This is getting alarming. (
Silence. Vladimir deep in thought, Estragon pulling at his toes
.) One of the thieves was saved. (
Pause
.) It’s a reasonable percentage. (
Pause
.) Gogo.
    ESTRAGON : What?
    VLADIMIR : Suppose we repented.
    ESTRAGON : Repented what?
    VLADIMIR : Oh . . . (
He reflects
.) We wouldn’t have to go into the details.
    ESTRAGON : Our being born?
    Vladimir breaks into a hearty laugh which he immediately stifles, his hand pressed to his pubis, his face contorted
.
    VLADIMIR : One daren’t even laugh any more.
    ESTRAGON : Dreadful privation.
    VLADIMIR : Merely smile. (
He smiles suddenly from ear to ear, keeps smiling, ceases as suddenly
.) It’s not the same thing. Nothing to be done. (
Pause
.) Gogo.
    ESTRAGON : (
irritably
). What is it?
    VLADIMIR : Did you ever read the Bible?
    ESTRAGON : The Bible . . . (
He reflects
.) I must have taken a look at it.
    VLADIMIR : Do you remember the Gospels?
    ESTRAGON : I remember the maps of the Holy Land. Coloured they were. Very pretty. The Dead Sea was pale blue. The very look of it made me thirsty. That’s where well go, I used to say, that’s where well go for our honeymoon. We’ll swim. We’ll be happy.
    VLADIMIR : You should have been a poet.
    ESTRAGON : I was. (
Gesture towards his rags
.) Isn’t that obvious?
    Silence
.
    VLADIMIR : Where was I . . . How’s your foot?
    ESTRAGON : Swelling visibly.
    VLADIMIR : Ah