[LUCKY puts everything down, puts end of the 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’s 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 like any other day, 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, 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 stares 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.] Mr 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 exit running. Silence. The sun sets, the moon rises. As in Act One. VLADIMIR stands motionless and bowed, ESTRAGON wakes, takes off his boots, gets up with one in each hand and goes and puts them down centre 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 on to my legs.

  VLADIMIR: And who’d hang on to mine?

  ESTRAGON: True.

  VLADIMIR: Show 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 at 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: Yo
u 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

  Endgame

  A play in one act

  For Roger Blin

  First performed in Great Britain in French as Fin de partie on 3 April 1957 at the Royal Court Theatre, London. English translation by the author first published in 1958 by Faber and Faber Limited.

  CAST

  HAMM

  CLOV

  NAGG

  NELL

  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.

  Centre, in an armchair on castors, covered with an old sheet, HAMM.

  Motionless by the door, his eyes fixed on HAMM, CLOV. Very red face.

  Brief tableau.

  CLOV 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 HAMM, 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, HAMM seems to be asleep. CLOV looks him over. Brief laugh. He goes to door, halts, turns towards auditorium.

  CLOV: [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, HAMM stirs. He yawns under the handkerchief. He removes the handkerchief from his face. Very red face. Black glasses.]

  HAMM: Me – [he yawns] – to play. [He holds the handkerchief spread out before him.] Old stancher! [He takes off his glasses, wipes his eyes, his face, the glasses, puts them on again, folds the handkerchief and puts it 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.] Clov! [Pause.] No, alone. [Pause.] What dreams! Those forests! [Pause.] Enough, it’s time it ended, in the refuge 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 CLOV immediately. He halts beside the chair.] You pollute the air! [Pause.] Get me ready, I’m going to bed.

  CLOV: I’ve just got you up.

  HAMM: And what of it?

  CLOV: I can’t be getting you up and putting you to bed every five minutes, I have things to do.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM: Did you ever see my eyes?

  CLOV: No.

  HAMM: Did you never have the curiosity, while I was sleeping, to take off my glasses and look at my eyes?

  CLOV: Pulling back the lids? [Pause.] No.

  HAMM: One of these days I’ll show them to you. [Pause.] It seems they’ve gone all white. [Pause.] What time is it?

  CLOV: The same as usual.

  HAMM: [Gesture towards window right.] Have you looked?

  CLOV: Yes.

  HAMM: Well?

  CLOV: Zero.

  HAMM: It’d need to rain.

  CLOV: It won’t rain.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM: Apart from that, how do you feel?

  CLOV: I don’t complain.

  HAMM: You feel normal?

  CLOV: [Irritably.] I tell you I don’t complain!

  HAMM: I feel a little queer. [Pause.] Clov!

  CLOV: Yes.

  HAMM: Have you not had enough?

  CLOV: Yes! [Pause.] Of what?

  HAMM: Of this … this … thing.

  CLOV: I always had. [Pause.] Not you?

  HAMM: [Gloomily.] Then there’s no reason for it to change.

  CLOV: It may end. [Pause.] All life long the same questions, the same answers.

  HAMM: Get me ready, [CLOV does not move.] Go and get the sheet, [CLOV does not move.] Clov!

  CLOV: Yes.

  HAMM: I’ll give you nothing more to eat.

  CLOV: Then we’ll die.

  HAMM: I’ll give you just enough to keep you from dying. You’ll be hungry all the time.

  CLOV: Then we shan’t die. [Pause.] I’ll go and get the sheet.

  [He goes towards the door.]

  HAMM: No! [CLOV halts.] I’ll give you one biscuit per day. [Pause.] One and a half. [Pause.] Why do you stay with me?

  CLOV: Why do you keep me?

  HAMM: There’s no one else.

  CLOV: There’s nowhere else.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM: You’re leaving me all the same.

  CLOV: I’m trying.

  HAMM: You don’t love me.

  CLOV: No.

  HAMM: You loved me once.

  CLOV: Once!

  HAMM: I’ve made you suffer too much. [Pause.] Haven’t I?

  CLOV: It’s not that.

  HAMM: [Shocked.] I haven’t made you suffer too much?

  CLOV: Yes!

  HAMM: [Relieved.] Ah you gave me a fright! [Pause. Coldly.] Forgive me. [Pause. Louder.] I said, Forgive me.

  CLOV: I hear
d you. [Pause.] Have you bled?

  HAMM: Less. [Pause.] Is it not time for my pain-killer?

  CLOV: No.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM: How are your eyes?

  CLOV: Bad.

  HAMM: How are your legs?

  CLOV: Bad.

  HAMM: But you can move.

  CLOV: Yes.

  HAMM: [Violently.] Then move! [CLOV goes to back wall, leans against it with his forehead and hands.] Where are you?

  CLOV: Here.

  HAMM: Come back! [CLOV returns to his place beside the chair.] Where are you?

  CLOV: Here.

  HAMM: Why don’t you kill me?

  CLOV: I don’t know the combination of the larder.

  [Pause.]

  HAMM: Go and get two bicycle-wheels.

  CLOV: There are no more bicycle-wheels.

  HAMM: What have you done with your bicycle?

  CLOV: I never had a bicycle.

  HAMM: The thing is impossible.

  CLOV: When there were still bicycles I wept to have one. I crawled at your feet. You told me to get out to hell. Now there are none.

  HAMM: And your rounds? When you inspected my paupers. Always on foot?

  CLOV: 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.

  HAMM: In your kitchen?

  CLOV: Yes.

  HAMM: Outside of here it’s death. [Pause.] All right, be off. [Exit CLOV. Pause.] We’re getting on.

  NAGG: Me pap!

  HAMM: Accursed progenitor!

  NAGG: Me pap!

  HAMM: The old folks at home! No decency left! Guzzle, guzzle, that’s all they think of. [He whistles. Enter CLOV. He halts beside the chair.] Well! I thought you were leaving me.

  CLOV: Oh not just yet, not just yet.

  NAGG: Me pap!

  HAMM: Give him his pap.

  CLOV: There’s no more pap.

  HAMM: [To NAGG.] Do you hear that? There’s no more pap. You’ll never get any more pap.

  NAGG: I want me pap!

  HAMM: Give him a biscuit. [Exit CLOV.] Accursed fornicator! How are your stumps?

  NAGG: Never mind me stumps.

  [Enter CLOV with biscuit.]

  CLOV: I’m back again, with the biscuit.

  [He gives the biscuit to NAGG who fingers it, sniffs it.]