Read Endgame Act Without Words I Online
Authors: Samuel Beckett
He alone had been spared.
[
Pause.
]
Forgotten.
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Pause.
]
It appears the case is . . . was not so . . . so unusual.
CLOV
A madman? When was that?
HAMM
Oh way back, way back, you weren’t in the land of the living.
CLOV
God be with the days!
[
Pause. Hamm raises his toque.
]
HAMM
I had a great fondness for him.
[
Pause. He puts on his toque again.
]
He was a painter—and engraver.
CLOV
There are so many terrible things.
HAMM
No, no, there are not so many now.
[
Pause.
]
Clov!
CLOV
Yes.
HAMM
Do you not think this has gone on long enough?
CLOV
Yes!
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Pause.
]
What?
HAMM
This . . . this . . . thing.
CLOV
I’ve always thought so.
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Pause.
]
You not?
HAMM
[
gloomily
] Then it’s a day like any other day.
CLOV
As long as it lasts.
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Pause.
]
All life long the same inanities.
HAMM
I can’t leave you.
CLOV
I know. And you can’t follow me.
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Pause.
]
HAMM
If you leave me how shall I know?
CLOV
[
briskly
] Well you simply whistle me and if I don’t come running it means I’ve left you.
[
Pause.
]
HAMM
You won’t come and kiss me goodbye?
CLOV
Oh I shouldn’t think so.
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Pause.
]
HAMM
But you might be merely dead in your kitchen.
CLOV
The result would be the same.
HAMM
Yes, but how would I know, if you were merely dead in your kitchen?
CLOV
Well . . . sooner or later I’d start to stink.
HAMM
You stink already. The whole place stinks of corpses.
CLOV
The whole universe.
HAMM
[
angrily
] To hell with the universe.
[
Pause.
]
Think of something.
CLOV
What?
HAMM
An idea, have an idea.
[
Angrily.
]
A bright idea!
CLOV
Ah good.
[
He starts pacing to and fro, his eyes fixed on the ground, his hands behind his back. He halts.
]
The pains in my legs! It’s unbelievable! Soon I won’t be able to think any more.
HAMM
You won’t be able to leave me.
[
Clov resumes his pacing.
]
What are you doing?
CLOV
Having an idea.
[
He paces.
]
Ah!
[
He halts.
]
HAMM
What a brain!
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Pause.
]
Well?
CLOV
Wait!
[
He meditates. Not very convinced.
]
Yes . . .
[
Pause. More convinced.
]
Yes!
[
He raises his head.
]
I have it! I set the alarm.
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Pause.
]
HAMM
This is perhaps not one of my bright days, but frankly—
CLOV
You whistle me. I don’t come. The alarm rings. I’m gone. It doesn’t ring. I’m dead.
[
Pause.
]
HAMM
Is it working?
[
Pause. Impatiently.
]
The alarm, is it working?
CLOV
Why wouldn’t it be working?
HAMM
Because it’s worked too much.
CLOV
But it’s hardly worked at all.
HAMM
[
angrily
] Then because it’s worked too little!
CLOV
I’ll go and see.
[
Exit Clov. Brief ring of alarm off. Enter Clov with alarm-clock. He holds it against Hamm’s ear and releases alarm. They listen to it ringing to the end. Pause.
]
Fit to wake the dead! Did you hear it?
HAMM
Vaguely.
CLOV
The end is terrific!
HAMM
I prefer the middle.
[
Pause.
]
Is it not time for my pain-killer?
CLOV
No!
[
He goes to door, turns.
]
I’ll leave you.
HAMM
It’s time for my story. Do you want to listen to my story.
CLOV
No.
HAMM
Ask my father if he wants to listen to my story.
[
Clov goes to bins, raises the lid of Nagg’s, stoops, looks into it. Pause. He straightens up.
]
CLOV
He’s asleep.
HAMM
Wake him.
[
Clov stoops, wakes Nagg with the alarm. Unintelligible words. Clov straightens up.
]
CLOV
He doesn’t want to listen to your story.
HAMM
I’ll give him a bon-bon.
[
Clov stoops. As before.
]
CLOV
He wants a sugar-plum.
HAMM
He’ll get a sugar-plum.
[
Clov stoops. As before.
]
CLOV
It’s a deal.
[
He goes towards door. Nagg’s hands appear, gripping the rim. Then the head emerges. Clov reaches door, turns.
]
Do you believe in the life to come?
HAMM
Mine was always that.
[
Exit Clov.
]
Got him that time!
NAGG
I’m listening.
HAMM
Scoundrel! Why did you engender me?
NAGG
I didn’t know.
HAMM
What? What didn’t you know?
NAGG
That it’d be you.
[
Pause.
]
You’ll give me a sugar-plum?
HAMM
After the audition.
NAGG
You swear?
HAMM
Yes.
NAGG
On what?
HAMM
My honor.
[
Pause. They laugh heartily.
]
NAGG
Two.
HAMM
One.
NAGG
One for me and one for—
HAMM
One! Silence!
[
Pause.
]
Where was I?
[
Pause. Gloomily.
]
It’s finished, we’re finished.
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Pause.
]
Nearly finished.
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Pause.
]
There’ll be no more speech.
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Pause.
]
Something dripping in my head, ever since the fontanelles.
[
Stifled hilarity of Nagg.
]
Splash, splash, always on the same spot.
[
Pause.
]
Perhaps it’s a little vein.
[
Pause.
]
A little artery.
[
Pause. More animated.
]
Enough of that, it’s story time, where was I?
[
Pause. Narrative tone.
]
The man came crawling towards me, on his belly. Pale, wonderfully pale and thin, he seemed on the point of—
[
Pause. Normal tone.
]
No, I’ve done that bit.
[
Pause. Narrative tone.
]
I calmly filled my pipe—the meerschaum, lit it with . . . let us say a vesta, drew a few puffs. Aah!
[
Pause.
]
Well, what is it
you
want?
[
Pause.
]
It was an extra-ordinarily bitter day, I remember, zero by the thermometer. But considering it was Christmas Eve there was nothing . . . extra-ordinary about that. Seasonable weather, for once in a way.
[
Pause.
]
Well, what ill wind blows you my way? He raised his face to me, black with mingled dirt and tears.
[
Pause. Normal tone.
]
That should do it.
[
Narrative tone.
]
No no, don’t look at me, don’t look at me. He dropped his eyes and mumbled something, apologies I presume.
[
Pause.
]
I’m a busy man, you know, the final touches, before the festivities, you know what it is.
[
Pause. Forcibly.
]
Come on now, what is the object of this invasion?
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Pause.
]
It was a glorious bright day, I remember, fifty by the heliometer, but already the sun was sinking down into the . . . down among the dead.
[
Normal tone.
]
Nicely put, that.
[
Narrative tone.
]
Come on now, come on, present your petition and let me resume my labours.
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Pause. Normal tone.
]
There’s English for you. Ah well . . .
[
Narrative tone.
]
It was then he took the plunge. It’s my little one, he said. Tsstss, a little one, that’s bad. My little boy, he said, as if the sex mattered. Where did he come from? He named the hole. A good half-day, on horse. What are you insinuating? That the place is still inhabited? No no, not a soul, except himself and the child—assuming he existed. Good. I enquired about the situation at Kov, beyond the gulf. Not a sinner. Good. And you expect me to believe you have left your little one back there, all alone, and alive into the bargain? Come now!
[
Pause.
]
It was a howling wild day, I remember, a hundred by the anenometer. The wind was tearing up the dead pines and sweeping them . . . away.
[
Pause. Normal tone.
]
A bit feeble, that.
[
Narrative tone.
]
Come on, man, speak up, what is it you want from me, I have to put up my holly.
[
Pause.
]
Well to make it short it finally transpired that what he wanted from me was . . . bread for his brat? Bread? But I have no bread, it doesn’t agree with me. Good. Then perhaps a little corn?
[
Pause. Normal tone.
]
That should do it.
[
Narrative tone.
]
Corn, yes, I have corn, it’s true, in my granaries. But use your head. I give you some corn, a pound, a pound and a half, you
bring it back to your child and you make him—if he’s still alive—a nice pot of porridge,
[
Nagg reacts
]
a nice pot and a half of porridge, full of nourishment. Good.
The colours come back into his little cheeks—perhaps. And then?
[
Pause.
]
I lost patience.
[
Violently.
]
Use your head, can’t you, use your head, you’re on earth, there’s no cure for that!
[
Pause.
]
It was an exceedingly dry day, I remember, zero by the hygrometer. Ideal weather, for my lumbago.
[
Pause. Violently.
]
But what in God’s name do you imagine? That the earth will awake in spring? That the rivers and seas will run with fish again? That there’s manna in heaven still for imbeciles like you?
[
Pause.
]
Gradually I cooled down, sufficiently at least to ask him how long he had taken on the way. Three whole days. Good. In what condition he had left the child. Deep in sleep.
[
Forcibly.
]
But deep in what sleep, deep in what sleep already?
[
Pause.
]
Well to make it short I finally offered to take him into my service. He had touched a chord. And then I imagined already that I wasn’t much longer for this world.
[
He laughs. Pause.
]
Well?
[
Pause.
]
Well? Here if you were careful you might die a nice natural death, in peace and comfort.
[
Pause.
]
Well?
[
Pause.
]
In the end he asked me would I consent to take in the child as well—if he were still alive.
[
Pause.
]
It was the moment I was waiting for.
[
Pause.
]
Would I consent to take in the child . . .
[
Pause.
]
I can see him still, down on his knees, his hands flat on the ground, glaring at me with his mad eyes, in defiance of my wishes.
[
Pause. Normal tone.
]
I’ll soon have finished with this story.