the menace, they wait.
Enter Pozzo and Lucky. Pozzo drives Lucky by
means of a rope passed round his neck, so that
Lucky is the first to enter, followed by the rope
which is long enough to let him reach the middle
of the stage before Pozzo appears. Lucky carries
a heavy bag, a folding stool, a picnic basket and a
greatcoat, Pozzo a whip.
POZZO:
(off). On! (Crack of whip. Pozzo appears. They
cross the stage. Lucky passes before Vladimir and
Estragon and exit. Pozzo at the sight of Vladimir
and Estragon stops short. The rope tautens. Pozzo
jerks at it violently.) Back!
Noise of Lucky falling with all his baggage.
Vladimir and Estragon turn towards him, half
wishing half fearing to go to his assistance.
Vladimir takes a step towards Lucky, Estragon
holds him back by the sleeve.
VLADIMIR:
Let me go!
ESTRAGON:
Stay where you are!
POZZO:
Be careful! He’s wicked. (vladimir and Estragon turn towards Pozzo.) With strangers.
ESTRAGON:
(undertone). Is that him?
VLADIMIR:
Who?
ESTRAGON:
(trying to remember the name). Er . . .
VLADIMIR:
Godot?
ESTRAGON:
Yes.
POZZO:
I present myself: Pozzo.
VLADIMIR:
(to Estragon). Not at all!
ESTRAGON:
He said Godot.
VLADIMIR:
Not at all!
ESTRAGON:
(timidly, to Pozzo). You’re not Mr. Godot, Sir?
POZZO:
(terrifying voice). I am Pozzo! (Silence.) Pozzo! (Silence.) Does that name mean nothing to you? (Silence.) I say does that name mean nothing to you?
Vladimir and Estragon look at each other questioningly.
ESTRAGON:
(pretending to search). Bozzo . . . Bozzo . . .
VLADIMIR:
(ditto). Pozzo . . . Pozzo . . .
POZZO:
PPPOZZZO!
ESTRAGON:
Ah! Pozzo ... let me see . . . Pozzo . . .
VLADIMIR:
Is it Pozzo or Bozzo?
ESTRAGON:
Pozzo . . . no . . . I’m afraid I ... no ... I don’t seem to . . .
Pozzo advances threateningly.
VLADIMIR:
(conciliating). I once knew a family called Gozzo. The mother had the clap.
ESTRAGON:
(hastily). We’re not from these parts, Sir.
POZZO:
(halting). You are human beings none the less.
(He puts on his glasses.) As far as one can see. (He takes off his glasses.) Of the same species as myself. (He bursts into an enormous laugh.) Of the same species as Pozzo! Made in God’s image!
VLADIMIR:
Well you see—
POZZO:
(peremptory). Who is Godot?
ESTRAGON:
Godot?
POZZO:
You took me for Godot.
VLADIMIR:
Oh no, Sir, not for an instant, Sir.
POZZO:
Who is he?
VLADIMIR:
Oh he’s a . . . he’s a kind of acquaintance.
ESTRAGON:
Nothing of the kind, we hardly know him.
VLADIMIR:
True . . . we don’t know him very well . . . but all the same . . .
ESTRAGON:
Personally I wouldn’t even know him if I saw him.
POZZO:
You took me for him.
ESTRAGON:
(recoiling before Pozzo). That’s to say . . . you understand . . . the dusk . . . the strain . . . waiting ... I confess ... I imagined . . . for a second . . .
POZZO:
Waiting? So you were waiting for him?
VLADIMIR:
Well you see___
POZZO:
Here? On my land?
VLADIMIR:
We didn’t intend any harm.
ESTRAGON:
We meant well.
POZZO:
The road is free to all.
VLADIMIR:
That’s how we looked at it.
POZZO:
It’s a disgrace. But there you are.
ESTRAGON:
Nothing we can do about it.
POZZO:
(with magnanimous gesture). Let’s say no more
about it. (He jerks the rope.) Up pig! (Pause.)
Every time he drops he falls asleep. (Jerks the
rope.) Up hog! (Noise of Lucky getting up and
picking up his baggage. Pozzo jerks the rope.)
Back! (Enter Lucky backwards.) Stop! (Lucky
stops.) Turn! (Lucky turns. To Vladimir and
Estragon, affably.) Gentlemen, I am happy to have
met you. (Before their incredulous expression.) Yes
yes, sincerely happy. (He jerks the rope.) Closer!
(Lucky advances.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Yes, the
road seems long when one journeys all alone for
. . . (he consults his watch) . . . yes . . . (he
calculates) . . . yes, six hours, that’s right, six
hours on end, and never a soul in sight. (To
Lucky.) Coat! (Lucky puts down the bag,
advances, gives the coat, goes back to his place,
takes up the bag.) Hold that! (Pozzo holds out the
whip. Lucky advances and, both his hands being
occupied, takes the whip in his mouth, then goes
back to his place. Pozzo begins to put on his coat,
stops.) Coat! (Lucky puts down bag, basket and
stool, advances, helps Pozzo on with his coat, goes
back to his place and takes up bag, basket and
stool.) Touch of autumn in the air this evening.
(Pozzo finishes buttoning his coat, stoops, inspects
himself, straightens up.) Whip! (Lucky advances,
stoops, Pozzo snatches the whip from his mouth,
Lucky goes back to his place.) Yes, gentlemen, I
cannot go for long without the society of my likes
(he puts on his glasses and looks at the two likes)
even when the likeness is an imperfect one. (He
takes off his glasses.) Stool! (Lucky puts down bag
and basket, advances, opens stool, puts it down,
goes back to his place, takes up bag and basket.)
Closer! (Lucky puts down bag and basket,
advances, moves stool, goes back to his place,
takes up bag and basket. Pozzo sits down, places
the butt of his whip against Lucky’s chest and
pushes.) Back! (Lucky takes a step back.) Further!
(Lucky takes another step back.) Stop! (Lucky
stops. To Vladimir and Estragon.) That is why,
with your permission, I propose to dally with you
a moment, before I venture any further. Basket!
(Lucky advances, gives the basket, goes back to
his place.) The fresh air stimulates the jaded
appetite. (He opens the basket, takes out a piece
of chicken and a bottle of wine.) Basket! (Lucky
advances, picks up the basket and goes back to his
place.) Further! (Lucky takes a step back.) He
stinks. Happy days!
He drinks from the bottle, puts it down and
begins to eat. Silence. Vladimir and Estragon,
cautiously at first, then more boldly, begin to
circle about Lucky, inspecting him up and down.
Pozzo eats his chicken voraciously, throwing
away the bones afte
r having sucked them. Lucky
sags slowly, until bag and basket touch the
ground, then straightens up with a start and
begins to sag again. Rhythm of one sleeping on
his feet.
ESTRAGON:
What ails him?
VLADIMIR:
He looks tired.
ESTRAGON:
Why doesn’t he put down his bags?
VLADIMIR:
How do I know? (They close in on him.) Careful!
ESTRAGON:
Say something to him.
VLADIMIR:
Look!
ESTRAGON:
What?
VLADIMIR:
(pointing). His neck!
ESTRAGON:
(looking at the neck). I see nothing.
VLADIMIR:
Here.
Estragon goes over beside Vladimir.
ESTRAGON:
Oh I say!
VLADIMIR:
A running sore!
ESTRAGON:
It’s the rope.
VLADIMIR:
It’s the rubbing.
ESTRAGON:
It’s inevitable.
VLADIMIR:
It’s the knot.
ESTRAGON:
It’s the chafing.
They resume their inspection, dwell on the face.
VLADIMIR:
(grudgingly). He’s not bad looking.
ESTRAGON:
(shrugging his shoulders, wry face). Would you say so?
VLADIMIR:
A trifle effeminate.
ESTRAGON:
Look at the slobber.
VLADIMIR:
It’s inevitable.
ESTRAGON:
Look at the slaver.
VLADIMIR:
Perhaps he’s a halfwit.
ESTRAGON:
A cretin.
VLADIMIR:
(looking closer). Looks like a goiter.
ESTRAGON:
(ditto). It’s not certain.
VLADIMIR:
He’s panting.
ESTRAGON:
It’s inevitable.
VLADIMIR:
And his eyes!
ESTRAGON:
What about them?
VLADIMIR:
Goggling out of his head.
ESTRAGON:
Looks at his last gasp to me.
VLADIMIR:
It’s not certain. (Pause.) Ask him a question.
ESTRAGON:
Would that be a good thing?
VLADIMIR:
What do we risk?
ESTRAGON:
(timidly). Mister . . .
VLADIMIR:
Louder.
ESTRAGON:
(louder). Mister . . .
POZZO:
Leave him in peace! (They turn towards Pozzo
who, having finished eating, wipes his mouth with
the back of his hand.) Can’t you see he wants to
rest? Basket! (He strikes a match and begins to
light his pipe. Estragon sees the chicken bones on
the ground and stares at them greedily. As Lucky
does not move Pozzo throws the match angrily
away and jerks the rope.) Basket! (Lucky starts,
almost falls, recovers his senses, advances, puts the bottle in the
basket and goes back to his place.
Estragon stares at the bones. Pozzo strikes another
match and lights his pipe.) What can you expect,
it’s not his job. (He pulls at his pipe, stretches out
his legs.) Ah! That’s better.
ESTRAGON:
(timidly). Please Sir . . .
POZZO:
What is it, my good man?
ESTRAGON:
Er . . . you’ve finished with the . . . er . . .
you don’t need the . . . er . . . bones, Sir?
VLADIMIR:
(scandalized). You couldn’t have waited?
POZZO:
No no, he does well to ask. Do I need the bones?
(He turns them over with the end of his whip.)
No, personally I do not need them any more.
(Estragon takes a step towards the bones.) But
. . . (Estragon stops short) . . . but in theory the
bones go to the carrier. He is therefore the one to
ask. (Estragon turns towards Lucky, hesitates.) Go
on, go on, don’t be afraid, ask him, he’ll tell you.
Estragon goes towards Lucky, stops before him.
ESTRAGON:
Mister . . . excuse me, Mister . . .
POZZO:
You’re being spoken to, pig! Reply! (To Estragon.)
Try him again.
ESTRAGON:
Excuse me, Mister, the bones, you won’t be wanting the bones?
Lucky looks long at Estragon.
POZZO:
(in raptures). Mister! (Lucky bows his head.)
Reply! Do you want them or don’t you? (Silence
of Lucky. To Estragon.) They’re yours. (Estragon
makes a dart at the bones, picks them up and
begins to gnaw them.)
I don’t like it. I’ve never
known him refuse a bone before. (He looks
anxiously at Lucky.) Nice business it’d be if he fell
sick on me!
He puffs at his pipe.
VLADIMIR:
(exploding). It’s a scandal!
Silence. Flabbergasted, Estragon stops gnawing,
looks at Pozzo and Vladimir in turn. Pozzo
outwardly calm. Vladimir embarrassed.
POZZO:
(to Vladimir). Are you alluding to anything in particular?
VLADIMIR:
(stutteringly resolute). To treat a man . . .
(gesture towards Lucky) . . . like that ... I
think that ... no ... a human being ... no
. . . it’s a scandal!
ESTRAGON:
(not to be outdone). A disgrace!
I can’t go on, I’ll go on Page 27