Waiting for Godot Read Online Free PDF Page B

For I shall suffer, no doubt about that. ( He picks up the whip. ) What do you prefer? Shall we have him dance, or sing, or recite, or think, or—
    ESTRAGON:
    Who?
    POZZO:
    Who! You know how to think, you two?
    VLADIMIR:
    He thinks?
    POZZO:
    Certainly. Aloud. He even used to think very prettily once, I could listen to him for hours. Now . . . ( he shudders ) . So much the worse for me. Well, would you like him to think something for us?
    ESTRAGON:
    I'd rather he dance, it'd be more fun.
    POZZO:
    Not necessarily.
    ESTRAGON:
    Wouldn't it, Didi, be more fun?
    VLADIMIR:
    I'd like well to hear him think.
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps he could dance first and think afterwards, if it isn't too much to ask him.
    VLADIMIR:
    ( to Pozzo ) . Would that be possible?
    POZZO:
    By all means, nothing simpler. It's the natural order.
    He laughs briefly.
    VLADIMIR:
    Then let him dance.
    Silence.
    POZZO:
    Do you hear, hog?
    ESTRAGON:
    He never refuses?
    POZZO:
    He refused once. ( Silence. ) Dance, misery!
    Lucky puts down bag and basket, advances towards front, turns to Pozzo. Lucky dances. He stops.
    ESTRAGON:
    Is that all?
    POZZO:
    Encore!
    Lucky executes the same movements, stops.
    ESTRAGON:
    Pooh! I'd do as well myself. ( He imitates Lucky, almost falls. ) With a little practice.
    POZZO:
    He used to dance the farandole, the fling, the brawl, the jig, the fandango and even the hornpipe. He capered. For joy. Now that's the best he can do. Do you know what he calls it?
    ESTRAGON:
    The Scapegoat's Agony.
    VLADIMIR:
    The Hard Stool.
    POZZO:
    The Net. He thinks he's entangled in a net.
    VLADIMIR:
    ( squirming like an aesthete ) . There's something about it . . .
    Lucky makes to return to his burdens.
    POZZO:
    Woaa!
    Lucky stiffens.
    ESTRAGON:
    Tell us about the time he refused.
    POZZO:
    With pleasure, with pleasure. ( He fumbles in his pockets. ) Wait. ( He fumbles. ) What have I done with my spray? ( He fumbles. ) Well now isn't that . . . ( He looks up, consternation on his features. Faintly. ) I can't find my pulverizer!
    ESTRAGON:
    ( faintly ) . My left lung is very weak! ( He coughs feebly. In ringing tones. ) But my right lung is as sound as a bell!
    POZZO:
    ( normal voice ) . No matter! What was I saying. ( He ponders. ) Wait. ( Ponders. ) Well now isn't that . . . ( He raises his head. ) Help 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 at Lucky ) . So he has. And what of it?
    VLADIMIR:
    Since he has put down his bags it is impossible we should have asked why he does not do so.
    POZZO:
    Stoutly reasoned!
    ESTRAGON:
    And why has he put them down?
    POZZO:
    Answer us that.
    VLADIMIR:
    In order to dance.
    ESTRAGON:
    True!
    POZZO:
    True!
    Silence. They put on their hats.
    ESTRAGON:
    Nothing happens, nobody comes, nobody goes, it's awful!
    VLADIMIR:
    ( to Pozzo ) . Tell him to think.
    POZZO:
    Give him his hat.
    VLADIMIR:
    His hat?
    POZZO:
    He can't think without his hat.
    VLADIMIR:
    ( to Estragon ) . Give him his hat.
    ESTRAGON:
    Me! After what he did to me! Never!
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll give it to him.
    He does not move.
    ESTRAGON:
    ( to Pozzo ) . Tell him to go and fetch it.
    POZZO:
    It's better to give it to him.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll give it to him.
    He picks up the hat and tenders it at arm's length to Lucky, who does not move.
    POZZO:
    You must put it on his head.
    ESTRAGON:
    ( to Pozzo ) . Tell him to take it.
    POZZO:
    It's better to put it on his head.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll put it on his head.
    He goes round behind Lucky, approaches him cautiously, puts the hat on his head and recoils smartly. Lucky does