Endgame Act Without Words I

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Endgame Act Without Words I Page 4

by Samuel Beckett


  HAMM Wake him.

  [Clov stoops, wakes Nagg with the alarm. Unintelligible words. Clov straightens up.]

  CLOV He doesn’t want to listen to your story.

  HAMM I’ll give him a bon-bon.

  [Clov stoops. As before.]

  CLOV He wants a sugar-plum.

  HAMM He’ll get a sugar-plum.

  [Clov stoops. As before.]

  CLOV It’s a deal.

  [He goes towards door. Nagg’s hands appear, gripping the rim. Then the head emerges. Clov reaches door, turns.]

  Do you believe in the life to come?

  HAMM Mine was always that.

  [Exit Clov.]

  Got him that time!

  NAGG I’m listening.

  HAMM Scoundrel! Why did you engender me?

  NAGG I didn’t know.

  HAMM What? What didn’t you know?

  NAGG That it’d be you.

  [Pause.]

  You’ll give me a sugar-plum?

  HAMM After the audition.

  NAGG You swear?

  HAMM Yes.

  NAGG On what?

  HAMM My honor.

  [Pause. They laugh heartily.]

  NAGG Two.

  HAMM One.

  NAGG One for me and one for—

  HAMM One! Silence!

  [Pause.]

  Where was I?

  [Pause. Gloomily.]

  It’s finished, we’re finished.

  [Pause.]

  Nearly finished.

  [Pause.]

  There’ll be no more speech.

  [Pause.]

  Something dripping in my head, ever since the fontanelles.

  [Stifled hilarity of Nagg.]

  Splash, splash, always on the same spot.

  [Pause.]

  Perhaps it’s a little vein.

  [Pause.]

  A little artery.

  [Pause. More animated.]

  Enough of that, it’s story time, where was I?

  [Pause. Narrative tone.]

  The man came crawling towards me, on his belly. Pale, wonderfully pale and thin, he seemed on the point of—

  [Pause. Normal tone.]

  No, I’ve done that bit.

  [Pause. Narrative tone.]

  I calmly filled my pipe—the meerschaum, lit it with . . . let us say a vesta, drew a few puffs. Aah!

  [Pause.]

  Well, what is it you want?

  [Pause.]

  It was an extra-ordinarily bitter day, I remember, zero by the thermometer. But considering it was Christmas Eve there was nothing . . . extra-ordinary about that. Seasonable weather, for once in a way.

  [Pause.]

  Well, what ill wind blows you my way? He raised his face to me, black with mingled dirt and tears.

  [Pause. Normal tone.]

  That should do it.

  [Narrative tone.]

  No no, don’t look at me, don’t look at me. He dropped his eyes and mumbled something, apologies I presume.

  [Pause.]

  I’m a busy man, you know, the final touches, before the festivities, you know what it is.

  [Pause. Forcibly.]

  Come on now, what is the object of this invasion?

  [Pause.]

  It was a glorious bright day, I remember, fifty by the heliometer, but already the sun was sinking down into the . . . down among the dead.

  [Normal tone.]

  Nicely put, that.

  [Narrative tone.]

  Come on now, come on, present your petition and let me resume my labours.

  [Pause. Normal tone.]

  There’s English for you. Ah well . . .

  [Narrative tone.]

  It was then he took the plunge. It’s my little one, he said. Tsstss, a little one, that’s bad. My little boy, he said, as if the sex mattered. Where did he come from? He named the hole. A good half-day, on horse. What are you insinuating? That the place is still inhabited? No no, not a soul, except himself and the child—assuming he existed. Good. I 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 wild day, I remember, a hundred by the anenometer. The wind was tearing up the dead pines and sweeping them . . . away.

  [Pause. Normal tone.]

  A bit feeble, that.

  [Narrative tone.]

  Come on, man, speak up, what is it you want from me, I have to put up my holly.

  [Pause.]

  Well to make it short it finally transpired that what he wanted from me was . . . bread for his brat? Bread? But I have no bread, it doesn’t agree with me. Good. Then perhaps a little corn?

  [Pause. Normal tone.]

  That should do it.

  [Narrative tone.]

  Corn, yes, I have corn, it’s true, in my granaries. But use your head. I give you some corn, a pound, a pound and a half, you bring it back to your child and you make him—if he’s still alive—a nice pot of porridge,

  [Nagg reacts]

  a nice pot and a half of porridge, full of nourishment. Good.

  The colours come back into his little cheeks—perhaps. And then?

  [Pause.]

  I lost patience.

  [Violently.]

  Use your head, can’t you, use your head, you’re on earth, there’s no cure for that!

  [Pause.]

  It was an exceedingly dry day, I remember, zero by the hygrometer. Ideal weather, for my lumbago.

  [Pause. Violently.]

  But what in God’s name do you imagine? That the earth will awake in spring? That the rivers and seas will run with fish again? That there’s manna in heaven still for imbeciles like you?

  [Pause.]

  Gradually I cooled down, sufficiently at least to ask him how long he had taken on the way. Three whole days. Good. In what condition he had left the child. Deep in sleep.

  [Forcibly.]

  But deep in what sleep, deep in what sleep already?

  [Pause.]

  Well to make it short I finally offered to take him into my service. He had touched a chord. And then I imagined already that I wasn’t much longer for this world.

  [He laughs. Pause.]

  Well?

  [Pause.]

  Well? Here if you were careful you might die a nice natural death, in peace and comfort.

  [Pause.]

  Well?

  [Pause.]

  In the end he asked me would I consent to take in the child as well—if he were still alive.

  [Pause.]

  It was the moment I was waiting for.

  [Pause.]

  Would I consent to take in the child . . .

  [Pause.]

  I can see him still, down on his knees, his hands flat on the ground, glaring at me with his mad eyes, in defiance of my wishes.

  [Pause. Normal tone.]

  I’ll soon have finished with this story.

  [Pause.]

  Unless I bring in other characters.

  [Pause.]

  But where would I find them?

  [Pause.]

  Where would I look for them?

  [Pause. He whistles. Enter Clov.]

  Let us pray to God.

  NAGG Me sugar-plum!

  CLOV There’s a rat in the kitchen!

  HAMM A rat! Are there still rats?

  CLOV In the kitchen there’s one.

  HAMM And you haven’t exterminated him?

  CLOV Half. You disturbed us.

  HAMM He can’t get away?

  CLOV No.

  HAMM You’ll finish him later. Let us pray to God.

  CLOV Again!

  NAGG Me sugar-plum!

  HAMM God first!

  [Pause.]

  Are you right?

  CLOV [resigned] Off we go.

  HAMM [to Nagg] And you?

  NAGG [clasping his hands, closing his eyes, in a gabble
] Our Father which art—

  HAMM Silence! In silence! Where are your manners?

  [Pause.]

  Off we go.

  [Attitudes of prayer. Silence. Abandoning his attitude, discouraged.]

  Well?

  CLOV [abandoning his attitude] What a hope! And you?

  HAMM Sweet damn all!

  [To Nagg.]

  And you?

  NAGG Wait!

  [Pause. Abandoning his attitude.]

  Nothing doing!

  HAMM The bastard! He doesn’t exist!

  CLOV Not yet.

  NAGG Me sugar-plum!

  HAMM 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. Besides I didn’t 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.]

  HAMM Our revels now are ended.

  [He gropes for the dog.]

  The dog’s gone.

  CLOV He’s not a real dog, he can’t go.

  HAMM [groping] He’s not there.

  CLOV He’s lain down.

  HAMM Give him up to me.

  [Clov picks up the dog and gives it to Hamm. Hamm holds it in his arms. Pause. Hamm throws away the dog.]

  Dirty brute!

  [Clov begins to pick up the objects lying on the ground.]

  What are you doing?

  CLOV Putting things in order.

  [He straightens up. Fervently.]

  I’m going to clear everything away!

  [He starts picking up again.]

  HAMM Order!

  CLOV [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.]

  HAMM [exasperated] What in God’s name do you think you are doing?

  CLOV [straightening up] I’m doing my best to create a little order.

  HAMM Drop it!

  [Clov drops the objects he has picked up.]

  CLOV After all, there or elsewhere.

  [He goes towards door.]

  HAMM [irritably] What’s wrong with your feet?

  CLOV My feet?

  HAMM Tramp! Tramp!

  CLOV I must have put on my boots.

  HAMM Your slippers were hurting you?

  [Pause.]

  CLOV I’ll leave you.

  HAMM No!

  CLOV What is there to keep me here?

  HAMM 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.

  CLOV Oh, by the way, your story?

  HAMM [surprised] What story?

  CLOV The one you’ve been telling yourself all your days.

  HAMM Ah you mean my chronicle?

  CLOV That’s the one.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM [angrily] Keep going, can’t you, keep going!

  CLOV You’ve got on with it, I hope.

  HAMM [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.

  CLOV [admiringly] Well I never! In spite of everything you were able to get on with it!

  HAMM [modestly] Oh not very far, you know, not very far, but nevertheless, better than nothing.

  CLOV Better than nothing! Is it possible?

  HAMM I’ll tell you how it goes. He comes crawling on his belly—

  CLOV Who?

  HAMM What?

  CLOV Who do you mean, he?

  HAMM Who do I mean! Yet another.

  CLOV Ah him! I wasn’t sure.

  HAMM Crawling on his belly, whining for bread for his brat. He’s offered a job as gardener. Before—

  [Clov bursts out laughing.]

  What is there so funny about that?

  CLOV A job as gardener!

  HAMM Is that what tickles you?

  CLOV It must be that.

  HAMM It wouldn’t be the bread?

  CLOV Or the brat.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM The whole thing is comical, I grant you that. What about having a good guffaw the two of us together?

  CLOV [after reflection] I couldn’t guffaw again today.

  HAMM [after reflection] Nor I.

  [Pause.]

  I continue then. Before accepting with gratitude he asks if he may have his little boy with him.

  CLOV What age?

  HAMM Oh tiny.

  CLOV He would have climbed the trees.

  HAMM All the little odd jobs.

  CLOV And then he would have grown up.

  HAMM Very likely.

  [Pause.]

  CLOV Keep going, can’t you, keep going!

  HAMM That’s all. I stopped there.

  [Pause.]

  CLOV Do you see how it goes on.

  HAMM More or less.

  CLOV Will it not soon be the end?

  HAMM I’m afraid it will.

  CLOV Pah! You’ll make up another.

  HAMM 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.

  CLOV There’s no more tide.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM Go and see is she dead.

  [Clov goes to bins, raises the lid of Nell’s, stoops, looks into it. Pause.]

  CLOV Looks like it.

  [He closes the lid, straightens up. Hamm raises his toque. Pause. He puts it on again.]

  HAMM [with his hand to his toque] And Nagg?

  [Clov raises lid of Nagg’s bin, stoops, looks into it. Pause.]

  CLOV Doesn’t look like it.

  [He closes the lid, straightens up.]

  HAMM [letting go his toque] What’s he doing?

  [Clov raises lid of Nagg’s bin, stoops, looks into it. Pause.]

  CLOV He’s crying.

  [He closes lid, straightens up.]

  HAMM Then he’s living.

  [Pause.]

  Did you ever have an instant of happiness?

  CLOV Not to my knowledge.

>   [Pause.]

  HAMM Bring me under the window.

  [Clov goes towards chair.]

  I want to feel the light on my face.

  [Clov 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.

  [Clov stops the chair under window right.]

  There already?

  [Pause. He tilts back his head.]

  Is it light?

  CLOV It isn’t dark.

  HAMM [angrily] I’m asking you is it light.

  CLOV Yes.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM The curtain isn’t closed?

  CLOV No.

  HAMM What window is it?

  CLOV The earth.

  HAMM I knew it!

  [Angrily.]

  But there’s no light there! The other!

  [Clov pushes chair towards window left.]

  The earth!

  [Clov stops the chair under window left. Hamm tilts back his head.]

  That’s what I call light!

  [Pause.]

  Feels like a ray of sunshine.

  [Pause.]

  No?

  CLOV No.

  HAMM It isn’t a ray of sunshine I feel on my face?

  CLOV No.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM Am I very white?

  [Pause. Angrily.]

  I’m asking you am I very white!

  CLOV Not more so than usual.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM Open the window.

  CLOV What for?

  HAMM I want to hear the sea.

  CLOV You wouldn’t hear it.

  HAMM Even if you opened the window?

  CLOV No.

  HAMM Then it’s not worth while opening it?

  CLOV No.

  HAMM [violently] Then open it!

  [Clov gets up on the ladder, opens the window. Pause.]

  Have you opened it?

  CLOV Yes.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM You swear you’ve opened it?

  CLOV Yes.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM Well . . . !

  [Pause.]

  It must be very calm.

  [Pause. Violently.]

  I’m asking you is it very calm!

  CLOV Yes.

  HAMM It’s because there are no more navigators.

  [Pause.]

  You haven’t much conversation all of a sudden. Do you not feel well?

  CLOV I’m cold.

  HAMM What month are we?

  [Pause.]

  Close the window, we’re going back.

  [Clov closes the window, gets down, pushes the chair back to its place, remains standing behind it, head bowed.]

 

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