from
Waiting for Godot
by
Samuel Beckett

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Waiting for Godot

Category:

Drama

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Waiting for Godot

translated from the original French by the author

Copyright © 1954 by Grove Press, Inc.
Copyright © renewed 1982 by Samuel Beckett

Act I

Vladimir:
There’s man all over for you, blaming on his boots the faults of his feet.

Vladimir:
[...] One of the thieves was saved. It’s a reasonable percentage. Gogo.

Estragon:
What?

Vladimir:
Suppose we repented.

Estragon:
Repented what?

Vladimir:
Oh . . . We wouldn’t have to go into the details.

Estragon:
Our being born?

Topic:

Repentance

Vladimir:
I’m curious to hear what he has to offer. Then we’ll take it or leave it.

Estragon:
What exactly did we ask him for?

Vladimir:
Were you not there?

Estragon:
I can’t have been listening.

Vladimir:
Oh . . . Nothing very definite.

Estragon:
A kind of prayer.

Vladimir:
Precisely.

Estragon:
A vague supplication.

Vladimir:
Exactly.

Estragon:
And what did he reply?

Vladimir:
That he’d see.

Estragon:
That he couldn’t promise anything.

Vladimir:
That he’d have to think it over.

Estragon:
In the quiet of his home.

Vladimir:
Consult his family.

Estragon:
His friends.

Vladimir:
His agents.

Estragon:
His correspondents.

Vladimir:
His books.

Estragon:
His bank account.

Vladimir:
Before taking a decision.

Estragon:
It’s the normal thing.

Vladimir:
Is it not?

Estragon:
I think it is.

Vladimir:
I think so, too.

Estragon:
And we?

Vladimir:
I beg your pardon?

Estragon:
I said, And we?

Vladimir:
I don’t understand.

Estragon:
Where do we come in?

Vladimir:
Come in?

Estragon:
Take your time.

Vladimir:
Come in? On our hands and knees.

Estragon:
As bad as that?

Vladimir:
Your Worship wishes to assert his prerogatives?

Estragon:
We’ve no rights any more?

Vladimir:
You’d make me laugh if it wasn’t prohibited.

Estragon:
We’ve lost our rights?

Vladimir:
We got rid of them.

Estragon:
[...] Funny, the more you eat the worse it gets.

Vladimir:
With me it’s just the opposite.

Estragon:
In other words?

Vladimir:
I get used to the muck as I go along.

Estragon:
Is that the opposite?

Vladimir:
Question of temperament.

Estragon:
Of character.

Vladimir:
Nothing you can do about it.

Estragon:
No use struggling.

Vladimir:
One is what one is.

Estragon:
No use wriggling.

Vladimir:
The essential doesn’t change.

Estragon:
Nothing to be done.

Topics:

Two kinds

Character

Pozzo:
[...] The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh.

Act II

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:
Like ashes.

Estragon:
Like leaves.

Long silence.

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:
[...] 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. But habit is a great deadener. At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, He is sleeping, he knows nothing, let him sleep on.

Topics:

Humanity

Mortality

text checked (see note) May 2006

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Background graphic copyright © 2003 by Hal Keen