Waiting for Godot: A Tragicomedy in Two Acts
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The story revolves around two seemingly homeless men waiting for someone—or something—named Godot. Vladimir and Estragon wait near a tree, inhabiting a drama spun of their own consciousness. The result is a comical wordplay of poetry, dreamscapes, and nonsense, which has been interpreted as mankind’s inexhaustible search for meaning. Beckett’s language pioneered an expressionistic minimalism that captured the existential post-World War II Europe. His play remains one of the most magical and beautiful allegories of our time.
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 we'll go, I used to say, that's where we'll 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 yes, the two thieves. Do you remember the story? ESTRAGON:
No. VLADIMIR: Shall I tell it to you? ESTRAGON: No. VLADIMIR: It'll pass the time. (Pause.) Two thieves, crucified at the same time as our Saviour. One— ESTRAGON: Our what? VLADIMIR: Our Saviour. Two thieves. One is supposed to have been saved and the other . . . (he searches for the contrary of saved) . . . damned. ESTRAGON: Saved from what? VLADIMIR: Hell. ESTRAGON: I'm going. He does not move. VLADIMIR: And yet . . . (pause) . . . how is it –this is not boring you I hope–
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 looks 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
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
me! ESTRAGON: Wait! VLADIMIR: Wait! POZZO: Wait! All three take off their hats simultaneously, press their hands to their foreheads, concentrate. ESTRAGON: (triumphantly). Ah! VLADIMIR: He has it. POZZO: (impatient). Well? ESTRAGON: Why doesn't he put down his bags? VLADIMIR: Rubbish! POZZO: Are you sure? VLADIMIR: Damn it haven't you already told us? POZZO: I've already told you? ESTRAGON: He's already told us? VLADIMIR: Anyway he has put them down. ESTRAGON: (glance