Why we should all love each other

Discussion in 'Rejoicing and Praising Jesus Christ Forum!' started by God_is_great, Mar 19, 2004.

  1. God_is_great

    God_is_great New Member

    just kidding.
     
  2. Anonymous

    Anonymous Guest

    How could you...
     
  3. Anonymous

    Anonymous Guest

    I don't agree that lying is a funny or nice thing to do...

    I don't agree that lying is a funny or nice thing to do... and so i have written this for you to read...


    What does the Bible say about Lying?



    There is a plague that is grieving the heart of God because it is preventable and can be stopped. It has spread among all churches and is particularly rampant in society. Even God’s ministers are not immune and many of them are infected with it.

    What is this evil plague? You may be surprised as it appears rather harmless at first glance. It is now so commonplace that people are deceived into just accepting it as normal, instead of recognizing and resisting it. This epidemic is the practice of lying and dishonesty.

    What does the Bible say about lying? A lying tongue is not only something God hates, it is also something that is an abomination to Him.

    Proverbs 6:16-19 says, "These six things doth the LORD hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren."

    Examples of Dishonesty

    As the moral climate of our society has been deteriorating, lying has become a major problem. The business world is particularly plagued by this problem--men’s dishonesty with each other, meetings "forgotten", company theft, promises not kept, contracts broken, etc. Lawyers have increased in numbers over the last decade, mainly because of irresponsibility and broken contracts among men due to lying. A news organization recently did a survey here in America and asked people several questions to determine the percentage of people who lied or were dishonest about things. Some of the questions were:

    Do you cheat on your Income Tax Return?
    Do you compliment people when you really don’t mean it?
    Do you tell your spouse to tell callers you are not at home when you there?
    Do you tell "little white lies" if it will keep you out of trouble?
    Do you tell creditors that "the check is in the mail" when you have not yet mailed it?
    Do you exaggerate in repeating things you have heard?

    The results of this survey determined that 90% of Americans are not truthful under certain circumstances. This is understandable when we look at the morals of our society but what about Christians? Have they fallen into the habit of lying also? Also, what constitutes a lie according to the Bible? Anything that is not the truth is a lie and God’s Word the Bible tells us what is truth. The Bible is the standard or measuring rod we must use in determining truth. Sadly, Christians are also succumbing to this epidemic of lying. Lying to each other has now become so commonplace, Christians too, have become liars.

    The Father of Lies

    Have you been lied to lately? Was it another Christian that lied to you? A minister perhaps? Each of us have had our trust in people undermined, or in some cases even destroyed because of lies. We would all agree that lying is an ugly evil. The Bible tells us that lying began with the devil and that he is the father of lies.

    John 8:43-47 says, "Why do ye not understand my speech? even because ye cannot hear my word. Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it. And because I tell you the truth, ye believe me not. Which of you convinceth me of sin? And if I say the truth, why do ye not believe me? He that is of God heareth God's words: ye therefore hear them not, because ye are not of God."

    The Bible is filled with admonitions against being dishonest and lying. One of the Ten Commandments states:

    "Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour." Exodus 20:16

    Before we point our finger at another for being a liar that we feel God needs to deal with, let us examine our own lives to see if we are infected with the same disease. What kind of witness are we to those around us? Are we deceived and have we become liars ourselves? Let us first give a definition as to what a lie is according to Webster’s dictionary:

    1.) To make a statement that one knows is false, especially with the intent to deceive.
    2.) To give a false impression or action or false statement, especially with the intent to deceive.
    3.)To make a false statement in order to evade the truth.
    4.)The invention of a false story or excuse in order to deceive.

    Perhaps for a Christian, a Biblical definition of lying could be summed up in this statement:

    Any time our word does not agree with God’s Word.

    In Numbers 23:19 the Bible says, "God is not a man, that he should lie; neither the son of man, that he should repent: hath he said, and shall he not do it? or hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good?"

    When we do not keep our word we are guilty of lying. Over the last year I have lost track of the number of times Christians have failed to keep their word to me. I am not angry or resentful or bitter over this, as the Lord has worked those attitudes out of my life. I have learned to take every offense to Him in prayer and He then removes any personal ill I might have and He gives me a forgiving and gracious attitude toward others. However, since I began to notice how many of God’s people were not keeping their word, I received a prayer burden of intercession for this evil to be removed from God’s people.

    I first began praying about my own life and ask God to expose any areas where I might be guilty of this sin. I have tried to obey Romans 12:17-21 which says, "Recompense to no man evil for evil. Provide things honest in the sight of all men. If it be possible, as much as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men."

    Most of the time I would just forgive these lying offences and would just pray for them and try to "live peaceably with all men." However, in prayer, the Lord spoke to my heart that I must go one step further and "speak the truth in love" to my brothers and sisters if I truly loved them.

    Ephesians 4:15-16 says, "But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ: From whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in love."

    If we, as the body of Christ, are to mature and grow up we must conform to the truth which is Jesus. The devil is behind every lie and as Christians we are admonished not to lie to one another.

    Colossians 3:9-10 says, "Lie not one to another, seeing that ye have put off the old man with his deeds; And have put on the new man, which is renewed in knowledge after the image of him that created him."

    Two Roots of Dishonesty

    The two main reasons we lie are usually rooted in either fear or pride. Fear is the first reason. We are afraid of the consequences if we tell the truth. Yielding to fear shows a lack of trust in God to take care of the situation. If we yield to God and do it His way He will usually give us favor with those that we fear. The other reason is pride. We are prideful and concerned about what men will think of us (desiring man’s approval instead of God’s approval.)

    Jesus always kept His Word. God still keeps His Word and is faithful to keep every promise He makes in the Bible. That is why He is reliable and we can trust Him. We are called to be like Him. The Bible says that out of a man’s mouth proceeds what is in His heart. If we tell lies or fib then it means that we need a heart cleansing.

    Matthew 15:18-20a says, "But those things which proceed out of the mouth come forth from the heart; and they defile the man. For out of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false witness, blasphemies: These are the things which defile a man..."

    We need to ask God to cleanse our hearts and begin reading and studying the Bible so that His Word resides in our hearts. As we keep His Word and water it with prayer it will produce good fruit in our lives. Lying is not only speaking an untruth; another form of lying is not keeping our word to others.

    Luke 8:15 says, "But that on the good ground are they, which in an honest and good heart, having heard the word, keep it, and bring forth fruit with patience."

    Little "White" Lies

    Let us look at some specific ways the devil gets us to lie. We will expose some of his devices. These sorts lies are being practiced by many Christians. Now remember, we are guilty of lying when we do not keep our word. Even if these sorts of lies seem harmless and don't appear to really hurt anyone else, they are harmful to our own souls. The more we practice telling untruths of any kind, the duller our concience becomes.

    1.) "I will call you back tomorrow." (This excuse is often used with a deliberate intent to decieve. The person does not call back at the appointed time and will call back at a much later date with excuses of why they were unable to call which usually goes something like: "I just was so busy, I meant to call , but did not get around to it." We all have been guilty of this, but we need to realize when we say we will do something we need to keep our word. We do understand there are legitimate reasons that make it impossible at times to keep our word. This is not the case we are referring to here. It would be better to not make this promise or to say, "I will try to call you back tomorrow.")

    2.) "I will be happy to do that for you." (Whatever promise was made, it was not kept and their word about the matter causes them not to be trusted. The Holy Spirit is trying to purge this lack from His people and is using a group of men known as "Promise Keepers" to help restore trustworthiness back in the heads of families by stressing that they need to keep their promises.)

    We could list numerous examples but these two cover a lot of territory; any time we say the words "I will" we need to be responsible to do it. We all, on occasion, fail to do the things we have good intentions of doing or we are hindered in some way and can’t do them. However, if we are unable to keep an appointment we should be thoughtful enough to call and cancel, or tell of our delayed arrival. We are living in an age when there are so many uncaring attitudes expressed. As Christians, we can be good witnesses by being different.

    One of the biggest faults of many Christians, and our society as well, is that we tend to over-commit and then we are unable to keep our word. It is disheartening to see this shift prevalent in businesses. They commit to the jobs, then, are not able to produce them on time and thus the standard for business practices is shifting to not expecting them on time. Business people must now factor in lengthy time delays just to compensate for people’s lack of business ethics.

    People that tend to over commit sometimes have a pride problem and are people pleasers. They want people to like them so they offer to do things for them, and because they are unable to keep their promises to all they end up not being able to keep their word; thus they are dishonest. In business it is usually greed that tends to cause them to over commit. They want more business and more money, even when they must work from a backlog that was promised timely.

    As Christians we need to ask the Lord to forgive us if we are guilty of lying or deceit. It is a very serious matter with God when we lie. (We can read of the incident of Ananias and Sapphira in Acts chapter 5 in the Bible. They both fell dead when they lied to the Holy Spirit.)

    The Bible also lists this sin of lying as one that can lead us to hell along with some other grievous ones.Revelation 21:7-8 says, "He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son. But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death."

    We can be overcomers through the power of the Holy Spirit as we seek to be like Jesus. We not only do not want to lie, but we also want to keep our word so that people know we are honest and trustworthy. As Christians, we want to represent our Father well in this life and be honest and free from fabrication and fibbing.
     
  4. God_is_great

    God_is_great New Member

    Yeah... fred Brown's alive and hiding in some grave somewhere obviously. Anyway i seriously recoment that you read 'Waiting for Godot' by Samuel Becket. It is an enlightening depiction of religion in multiple layers of depth that few are capable of understanding.THE plot of Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot is simple to relate. Two tramps are waiting by a sickly looking tree for the arrival of M. Godot. They quarrel, make up, contemplate suicide, try to sleep, eat a carrot and gnaw on some chicken bones. Two other characters appear, a master and a slave, who perform a grotesque scene in the middle of the play. A young boy arrives to say that M. Godot will not come today, but that he will come tomorrow. The play is a development of the title, Waiting for Godot. He does not come and the two tramps resume their vigil by the tree, which between the first and second day has sprouted a few leaves, the only symbol of a possible order in a thoroughly alienated world.

    The two tramps of Beckett, in their total disposition and in their antics with hats and tight shoes, are reminiscent of Chaplin and the American burlesque comedy team. Pozzo and Lucky, the master and slave, are half vaudeville characters and half marionettes. The purely comic aspect of the play involves traditional routines that come from the entire history of farce, from the Romans and the Italians, and the red-nosed clown of the modern circus. The language of the play has gravity, intensity, and conciseness. The long speech of Lucky, a bravura passage that is seemingly meaningless, is strongly reminiscent of Joyce and certain effects in Finnegans Wake. But the play is far from being a pastiche. It has its own beauty and suggestiveness, and it makes its own comment on man's absurd hope and on the absurd insignificance of man.

    The utter simplicity of the play, in the histrionic sense, places it in the classical tradition of French playwriting. It's close adherence to the three unities is a clue to the play's dramaturgy. The unity of place is a muddy plateau with one tree, a kind of gallows which invites the tramps to consider hanging themselves. This place is any place. It is perhaps best characterized as being the place where Godot is not. As the play unfolds we come to realize that M. Godot is not in any place comparable to the setting of the play. He will not come out of one place into another. The unity of time is two days, but it might be any sequence of days in anyone's life. Time is equivalent to what is announced in the title: the act of waiting. Tame is really immobility, although a few minor changes do take place during the play: the tree grows leaves and one of the characters, Pozzo, becomes blind. The act of waiting is never over, and yet it mysteriously starts up again each day. The action, in the same way, describes a circle. Each day is the return to the beginning. Nothing is completed because nothing can be completed. The despair in the play, which is never defined as such but which pervades all the lack of action and gives the play its metaphysical color, is the fact that the two tramps cannot not wait for Godot, and the corollary fact that he cannot come.

    The rigorous use of the unities is demanded by the implacable interpretation of human life. The denouement of the play is another beginning. Vladimir asks his friend: Alors? On y va? ("Well? Shall we go?") And Estragon answers: Allons-y ("Yes, let's go.") But neither moves. And the curtain descends over their immobility. In scene after scene the permanent absurdity of the world is stressed. In the scene, for example, between the master and the slave, Lucky is held on a leash by Pozzo. He carries a heavy suitcase without ever thinking of dropping it. He is able to utter his long incoherent speech only when he has his hat on and when Pozzo commands him to think.

    The unity of place, the particular site on the edge of a forest which the two tramps cannot leave, recalls Sartre's striking use of the unity of place in his first play, No Exit. There it is hell in the appearance of a Second Empire living-room that the three characters cannot leave. The curtain line of each play underscores the unity of place, the setting of which is prison. The Allons-y! of Godot corresponds to the Eh bien, continuons! ("Well, well, let's get on with it....") of No Exit. Sartre's hell is projected by use of some of the quid pro quos of a typical bedroom farce, whereas Beckett's unnamed plateau resembles the empty vaudeville stage. The two tramps in a seemingly improvised dialogue arouse laughter in their public, despite their alienation from the social norm and despite the total pessimism of their philosophy.

    Many ingenious theories have been advanced to provide satisfactory interpretations for the characters of Beckett's play. Religious or mythical interpretations prevail. The two tramps Estragon (Gogo) and Vladimir (Didi) may be Everyman and his conscience. Gogo is less confident and at one moment is ready to hang himself. Vladimir is more hopeful, more even in temperament. One thinks of the medieval debate between the body and the soul, between the intellectual and the nonrational in man. Certain of their speeches about Christ might substantiate the theory that they are the two crucified thieves. Pozzo would seem to be the evil master, the exploiter. But perhaps he is Godot, or an evil incarnation of Godot. The most obvious interpretation of Godot is that he is God. As the name Pierrot comes from Pierre, so Godot may come from God. (One thinks also of the combination of God and Charlot, the name used by the French for Charlie Chaplin.)

    Mr. Beckett himself has repudiated all theories of a symbolic nature. But this does not necessarily mean that it is useless to search for such clues. The fundamental imagery of the play is Christian. Even the tree recalls the Tree of Knowledge and the Cross. The life of the tramps at many points in the text seems synonymous with the fallen state of man. Their strange relationship is a kind of marriage. The play is a series of actions that are aborted and that give a despairing uniformity to its duration.

    The folowing is the first scene, which will allow you to get a small taster of the true amazement of this epic play:

    A country road. A tree.


    Evening.





    Estragon, sitting on a low mound, is trying to take off his boot. He pulls at it with both hands, panting. He gives up, exhausted, rests, tries again.
    As before.
    Enter Vladimir.
    ESTRAGON:
    (giving up again). Nothing to be done.
    VLADIMIR:
    (advancing with short, stiff strides, legs wide apart). I'm beginning to come round to that opinion. All my life I've tried to put it from me, saying Vladimir, be reasonable, you haven't yet tried everything. And I resumed the struggle. (He broods, musing on the struggle. Turning to Estragon.) So there you are again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Am I?
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm glad to see you back. I thought you were gone forever.
    ESTRAGON:
    Me too.
    VLADIMIR:
    Together again at last! We'll have to celebrate this. But how? (He reflects.) Get up till I embrace you.
    ESTRAGON:
    (irritably). Not now, not now.
    VLADIMIR:
    (hurt, coldly). May one inquire where His Highness spent the night?
    ESTRAGON:
    In a ditch.
    VLADIMIR:
    (admiringly). A ditch! Where?
    ESTRAGON:
    (without gesture). Over there.
    VLADIMIR:
    And they didn't beat you?
    ESTRAGON:
    Beat me? Certainly they beat me.
    VLADIMIR:
    The same lot as usual?
    ESTRAGON:
    The same? I don't know.
    VLADIMIR:
    When I think of it . . . all these years . . . but for me . . . where would you be . . . (Decisively.) You'd be nothing more than a little heap of bones at the present minute, no doubt about it.
    ESTRAGON:
    And what of it?
    VLADIMIR:
    (gloomily). It's too much for one man. (Pause. Cheerfully.) On the other hand what's the good of losing heart now, that's what I say. We should have thought of it a million years ago, in the nineties.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah stop blathering and help me off with this bloody thing.
    VLADIMIR:
    Hand in hand from the top of the Eiffel Tower, among the first. We were respectable in those days. Now it's too late. They wouldn't even let us up. (Estragon tears at his boot.) What are you doing?
    ESTRAGON:
    Taking off my boot. Did that never happen to you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Boots must be taken off every day, I'm tired telling you that. Why don't you listen to me?
    ESTRAGON:
    (feebly). Help me!
    VLADIMIR:
    It hurts?
    ESTRAGON:
    (angrily). Hurts! He wants to know if it hurts!
    VLADIMIR:
    (angrily). No one ever suffers but you. I don't count. I'd like to hear what you'd say if you had what I have.
    ESTRAGON:
    It hurts?
    VLADIMIR:
    (angrily). Hurts! He wants to know if it hurts!
    ESTRAGON:
    (pointing). You might button it all the same.
    VLADIMIR:
    (stooping). True. (He buttons his fly.) Never neglect the little things of life.
    ESTRAGON:
    What do you expect, you always wait till the last moment.
    VLADIMIR:
    (musingly). The last moment . . . (He meditates.) Hope deferred maketh the something sick, who said that?
    ESTRAGON:
    Why don't you help me?
    VLADIMIR:
    Sometimes I feel it coming all the same. Then I go all queer. (He takes off his hat, peers inside it, feels about inside it, shakes it, puts it on again.) How shall I say? Relieved and at the same time . . . (he searches for the word) . . . appalled. (With emphasis.) AP-PALLED. (He takes off his hat again, peers inside it.) Funny. (He knocks on the crown as though to dislodge a foreign body, peers into it again, puts it on again.) Nothing to be done. (Estragon with a supreme effort succeeds in pulling off his boot. He peers inside it, feels about inside it, turns it upside down, shakes it, looks on the ground to see if anything has fallen out, finds nothing, feels inside it again, staring sightlessly before him.) Well?
    ESTRAGON:
    Nothing.
    VLADIMIR:
    Show me.
    ESTRAGON:
    There's nothing to show.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try and put it on again.
    ESTRAGON:
    (examining his foot). I'll air it for a bit.
    VLADIMIR:
    There's man all over for you, blaming on his boots the faults of his feet. (He takes off his hat again, peers inside it, feels about inside it, knocks on the crown, blows into it, puts it on again.) This is getting alarming. (Silence. Vladimir deep in thought, Estragon pulling at his toes.) One of the thieves was saved. (Pause.) It's a reasonable percentage. (Pause.) Gogo.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    Suppose we repented.
    ESTRAGON:
    Repented what?
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh . . . (He reflects.) We wouldn't have to go into the details.
    ESTRAGON:
    Our being born?
    Vladimir breaks into a hearty laugh which he immediately stifles, his hand pressed to his pubis, his face contorted.
    VLADIMIR:
    One daren't even laugh any more.
    ESTRAGON:
    Dreadful privation.
    VLADIMIR:
    Merely smile. (He smiles suddenly from ear to ear, keeps smiling, ceases as suddenly.) It's not the same thing. Nothing to be done. (Pause.) Gogo.
    ESTRAGON:
    (irritably). What is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    Did you ever read the Bible?
    ESTRAGON:
    The Bible . . . (He reflects.) I must have taken a look at it.
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you remember the Gospels?
    ESTRAGON:
    I remember the 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– how is it that of the four Evangelists only one speaks of a thief being saved. The four of them were there –or thereabouts– and only one speaks of a thief being saved. (Pause.) Come on, Gogo, return the ball, can't you, once in a while?
    ESTRAGON:
    (with exaggerated enthusiasm). I find this really most extraordinarily interesting.
    VLADIMIR:
    One out of four. Of the other three, two don't mention any thieves at all and the third says that both of them abused him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Who?
    VLADIMIR:
    What?
    ESTRAGON:
    What's all this about? Abused who?
    VLADIMIR:
    The Saviour.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why?
    VLADIMIR:
    Because he wouldn't save them.
    ESTRAGON:
    From hell?
    VLADIMIR:
    Imbecile! From death.
    ESTRAGON:
    I thought you said hell.
    VLADIMIR:
    From death, from death.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well what of it?
    VLADIMIR:
    Then the two of them must have been damned.
    ESTRAGON:
    And why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    But one of the four says that one of the two was saved.
    ESTRAGON:
    Well? They don't agree and that's all there is to it.
    VLADIMIR:
    But all four were there. And only one speaks of a thief being saved. Why believe him rather than the others?
    ESTRAGON:
    Who believes him?
    VLADIMIR:
    Everybody. It's the only version they know.
    ESTRAGON:
    People are bloody ignorant apes.
    He rises painfully, goes limping to extreme left, halts, gazes into distance off with his hand screening his eyes, turns, goes to extreme right, gazes into distance. Vladimir watches him, then goes and picks up the boot, peers into it, drops it hastily.
    VLADIMIR:
    Pah!
    He spits. Estragon moves to center, halts with his back to auditorium.
    ESTRAGON:
    Charming spot. (He turns, advances to front, halts facing auditorium.) Inspiring prospects. (He turns to Vladimir.) Let's go.
    VLADIMIR:
    We can't.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why not?
    VLADIMIR:
    We're waiting for Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    (despairingly). Ah! (Pause.) You're sure it was here?
    VLADIMIR:
    What?
    ESTRAGON:
    That we were to wait.
    VLADIMIR:
    He said by the tree. (They look at the tree.) Do you see any others?
    ESTRAGON:
    What is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know. A willow.
    ESTRAGON:
    Where are the leaves?
    VLADIMIR:
    It must be dead.
    ESTRAGON:
    No more weeping.
    VLADIMIR:
    Or perhaps it's not the season.
    ESTRAGON:
    Looks to me more like a bush.
    VLADIMIR:
    A shrub.
    ESTRAGON:
    A bush.
    VLADIMIR:
    A—. What are you insinuating? That we've come to the wrong place?
    ESTRAGON:
    He should be here.
    VLADIMIR:
    He didn't say for sure he'd come.
    ESTRAGON:
    And if he doesn't come?
    VLADIMIR:
    We'll come back tomorrow.
    ESTRAGON:
    And then the day after tomorrow.
    VLADIMIR:
    Possibly.
    ESTRAGON:
    And so on.
    VLADIMIR:
    The point is—
    ESTRAGON:
    Until he comes.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're merciless.
    ESTRAGON:
    We came here yesterday.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah no, there you're mistaken.
    ESTRAGON:
    What did we do yesterday?
    VLADIMIR:
    What did we do yesterday?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    VLADIMIR:
    Why . . . (Angrily.) Nothing is certain when you're about.
    ESTRAGON:
    In my opinion we were here.
    VLADIMIR:
    (looking round). You recognize the place?
    ESTRAGON:
    I didn't say that.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well?
    ESTRAGON:
    That makes no difference.
    VLADIMIR:
    All the same . . . that tree . . . (turning towards auditorium) that bog . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    You're sure it was this evening?
    VLADIMIR:
    What?
    ESTRAGON:
    That we were to wait.
    VLADIMIR:
    He said Saturday. (Pause.) I think.
    ESTRAGON:
    You think.
    VLADIMIR:
    I must have made a note of it. (He fumbles in his pockets, bursting with miscellaneous rubbish.)
    ESTRAGON:
    (very insidious). But what Saturday? And is it Saturday? Is it not rather Sunday? (Pause.) Or Monday? (Pause.) Or Friday?
    VLADIMIR:
    (looking wildly about him, as though the date was inscribed in the landscape). It's not possible!
    ESTRAGON:
    Or Thursday?
    VLADIMIR:
    What'll we do?
    ESTRAGON:
    If he came yesterday and we weren't here you may be sure he won't come again today.
    VLADIMIR:
    But you say we were here yesterday.
    ESTRAGON:
    I may be mistaken. (Pause.) Let's stop talking for a minute, do you mind?
    VLADIMIR:
    (feebly). All right. (Estragon sits down on the mound. Vladimir paces agitatedly to and fro, halting from time to time to gaze into distance off. Estragon falls asleep. Vladimir halts finally before Estragon.) Gogo! . . . Gogo! . . . GOGO!
    Estragon wakes with a start.
    ESTRAGON:
    (restored to the horror of his situation). I was asleep! (Despairingly.) Why will you never let me sleep?
    VLADIMIR:
    I felt lonely.
    ESTRAGON:
    I had a dream.
    VLADIMIR:
    Don't tell me!
    ESTRAGON:
    I dreamt that—
    VLADIMIR:
    DON'T TELL ME!
    ESTRAGON:
    (gesture toward the universe). This one is enough for you? (Silence.) It's not nice of you, Didi. Who am I to tell my private nightmares to if I can't tell them to you?
    VLADIMIR:
    Let them remain private. You know I can't bear that.
    ESTRAGON:
    (coldly.) There are times when I wonder if it wouldn't be better for us to part.
    VLADIMIR:
    You wouldn't go far.
    ESTRAGON:
    That would be too bad, really too bad. (Pause.) Wouldn't it, Didi, be really too bad? (Pause.) When you think of the beauty of the way. (Pause.) And the goodness of the wayfarers. (Pause. Wheedling.) Wouldn't it, Didi?
    VLADIMIR:
    Calm yourself.
    ESTRAGON:
    (voluptuously.) Calm . . . calm . . . The English say cawm. (Pause.) You know the story of the Englishman in the brothel?
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes.
    ESTRAGON:
    Tell it to me.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah stop it!
    ESTRAGON:
    An Englishman having drunk a little more than usual proceeds to a brothel. The bawd asks him if he wants a fair one, a dark one or a red-haired one. Go on.
    VLADIMIR:
    STOP IT!
    Exit Vladimir hurriedly. Estragon gets up and follows him as far as the limit of the stage. Gestures of Estragon like those of a spectator encouraging a pugilist. Enter Vladimir. He brushes past Estragon, crosses the stage with bowed head. Estragon takes a step towards him, halts.
    ESTRAGON:
    (gently.) You wanted to speak to me? (Silence. Estragon takes a step forward.) You had something to say to me? (Silence. Another step forward.) Didi . . .
    VLADIMIR:
    (without turning). I've nothing to say to you.
    ESTRAGON:
    (step forward). You're angry? (Silence. Step forward). Forgive me. (Silence. Step forward. Estragon lays his hand on Vladimir's shoulder.) Come, Didi. (Silence.) Give me your hand. (Vladimir half turns.) Embrace me! (Vladimir stiffens.) Don't be stubborn! (Vladimir softens. They embrace. #

    Estragon recoils.) You stink of garlic!
    VLADIMIR:
    It's for the kidneys. (Silence. Estragon looks attentively at the tree.) What do we do now?
    ESTRAGON:
    Wait.
    VLADIMIR:
    Yes, but while waiting.
    ESTRAGON:
    What about hanging ourselves?
    VLADIMIR:
    Hmm. It'd give us an erection.
    ESTRAGON:
    (highly excited). An erection!
    VLADIMIR:
    With all that follows. Where it falls mandrakes grow. That's why they shriek when you pull them up. Did you not know that?
    ESTRAGON:
    Let's hang ourselves immediately!
    VLADIMIR:
    From a bough? (They go towards the tree.) I wouldn't trust it.
    ESTRAGON:
    We can always try.
    VLADIMIR:
    Go ahead.
    ESTRAGON:
    After you.
    VLADIMIR:
    No no, you first.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why me?
    VLADIMIR:
    You're lighter than I am.
    ESTRAGON:
    Just so!
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't understand.
    ESTRAGON:
    Use your intelligence, can't you?
    Vladimir uses his intelligence.
    VLADIMIR:
    (finally). I remain in the dark.
    ESTRAGON:
    This is how it is. (He reflects.) The bough . . . the bough . . . (Angrily.) Use your head, can't you?
    VLADIMIR:
    You're my only hope.
    ESTRAGON:
    (with effort). Gogo light—bough not break—Gogo dead. Didi heavy—bough break—Didi alone. Whereas—
    VLADIMIR:
    I hadn't thought of that.
    ESTRAGON:
    If it hangs you it'll hang anything.
    VLADIMIR:
    But am I heavier than you?
    ESTRAGON:
    So you tell me. I don't know. There's an even chance. Or nearly.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well? What do we do?
    ESTRAGON:
    Don't let's do anything. It's safer.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let's wait and see what he says.
    ESTRAGON:
    Who?
    VLADIMIR:
    Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Good idea.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let's wait till we know exactly how we stand.
    ESTRAGON:
    On the other hand it might be better to strike the iron before it freezes.
    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.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    (anxious). 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?
    Laugh of Vladimir, stifled as before, less the smile.
    VLADIMIR:
    You'd make me laugh if it wasn't prohibited.
    ESTRAGON:
    We've lost our rights?
    VLADIMIR:
    (distinctly). We got rid of them.
    Silence. They remain motionless, arms dangling, heads sunk, sagging at the knees.
    ESTRAGON:
    (feebly). We're not tied? (Pause.) We're not—
    VLADIMIR:
    Listen!
    They listen, grotesquely rigid. #

    ESTRAGON:
    I hear nothing.
    VLADIMIR:
    Hsst! (They listen. Estragon loses his balance, almost falls. He clutches the arm of Vladimir, who totters. They listen, huddled together.) Nor I.
    Sighs of relief. They relax and separate.
    ESTRAGON:
    You gave me a fright.
    VLADIMIR:
    I thought it was he.
    ESTRAGON:
    Who?
    VLADIMIR:
    Godot.
    ESTRAGON:
    Pah! The wind in the reeds.
    VLADIMIR:
    I could have sworn I heard shouts.
    ESTRAGON:
    And why would he shout?
    VLADIMIR:
    At his horse.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    (violently). I'm hungry!
    VLADIMIR:
    Do you want a carrot?
    ESTRAGON:
    Is that all there is?
    VLADIMIR:
    I might have some turnips.
    ESTRAGON:
    Give me a carrot. (Vladimir rummages in his pockets, takes out a turnip and gives it to Estragon who takes a bite out of it. Angrily.) It's a turnip!
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh pardon! I could have sworn it was a carrot. (He rummages again in his pockets, finds nothing but turnips.) All that's turnips. (He rummages.) You must have eaten the last. (He rummages.) Wait, I have it. (He brings out a carrot and gives it to Estragon.) There, dear fellow. (Estragon wipes the carrot on his sleeve and begins to eat it.) Make it last, that's the end of them.
    ESTRAGON:
    (chewing). I asked you a question.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ah.
    ESTRAGON:
    Did you reply?
    VLADIMIR:
    How's the carrot?
    ESTRAGON:
    It's a carrot.
    VLADIMIR:
    So much the better, so much the better. (Pause.) What was it you wanted to know?
    ESTRAGON:
    I've forgotten. (Chews.) That's what annoys me. (He looks at the carrot appreciatively, dangles it between finger and thumb.) I'll never forget this carrot. (He sucks the end of it meditatively.) Ah yes, now I remember.
    VLADIMIR:
    Well?
    ESTRAGON:
    (his mouth full, vacuously). We're not tied?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't hear a word you're saying.
    ESTRAGON:
    (chews, swallows). I'm asking you if we're tied.
    VLADIMIR:
    Tied?
    ESTRAGON:
    Ti-ed.
    VLADIMIR:
    How do you mean tied?
    ESTRAGON:
    Down.
    VLADIMIR:
    But to whom? By whom?
    ESTRAGON:
    To your man.
    VLADIMIR:
    To Godot? Tied to Godot! What an idea! No question of it. (Pause.) For the moment.
    ESTRAGON:
    His name is Godot?
    VLADIMIR:
    I think so.
    ESTRAGON:
    Fancy that. (He raises what remains of the carrot by the stub of leaf, twirls it before his eyes.) 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:
    (after prolonged reflection). 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. (He proffers the remains of the carrot to Vladimir.) Like to finish it?
    A terrible cry, close at hand. Estragon drops the carrot. They remain motionless, then together make a sudden rush towards the wings. Estragon stops halfway, runs back, picks up the carrot, stuffs it in his pocket, runs to rejoin Vladimir who is waiting for him, stops again, runs back, picks up his boot, runs to rejoin Vladimir. Huddled together, shoulders hunched, cringing away from the menace, they wait. #

    Enter Pozzo and Lucky. Pozzo drives Lucky by means of a rope passed round his neck, so that Lucky is the first to enter, followed by the rope which is long enough to let him reach the middle of the stage before Pozzo appears. Lucky carries a heavy bag, a folding stool, a picnic basket and a greatcoat, Pozzo a whip.
    POZZO:
    (off). On! (Crack of whip. Pozzo appears. They cross the stage. Lucky passes before Vladimir and Estragon and exit. Pozzo at the sight of Vladimir and Estragon stops short. The rope tautens. Pozzo jerks at it violently.) Back!
    Noise of Lucky falling with all his baggage. Vladimir and Estragon turn towards him, half wishing half fearing to go to his assistance. Vlamdimir takes a step towards Lucky, Estragon holds him back by the sleeve.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let me go!
    ESTRAGON:
    Stay where you are!
    POZZO:
    Be careful! He's wicked. (Vladimir and Estragon turn towards Pozzo.) With strangers.
    ESTRAGON:
    (undertone). Is that him?
    VLADIMIR:
    Who?
    ESTRAGON:
    (trying to remember the name). Er . . .
    VLADIMIR:
    Godot?
    ESTRAGON:
    Yes.
    POZZO:
    I present myself: Pozzo.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). Not at all!
    ESTRAGON:
    He said Godot.
    VLADIMIR:
    Not at all!
    ESTRAGON:
    (timidly, to Pozzo). You're not Mr. Godot, Sir?
    POZZO:
    (terrifying voice). I am Pozzo! (Silence.) Pozzo! (Silence.) Does that name mean nothing to you? (Silence.) I say does that name mean nothing to you?
    Vladimir and Estragon look at each other questioningly.
    ESTRAGON:
    (pretending to search). Bozzo . . . Bozzo . . .
    VLADIMIR:
    (ditto). Pozzo . . . Pozzo . . .
    POZZO:
    PPPOZZZO!
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! Pozzo . . . let me see . . . Pozzo . . .
    VLADIMIR:
    Is it Pozzo or Bozzo?
    ESTRAGON:
    Pozzo . . . no . . . I'm afraid I . . . no . . . I don't seem to . . .
    Pozzo advances threateningly.
    VLADIMIR:
    (conciliating). I once knew a family called Gozzo. The mother had the clap.
    ESTRAGON:
    (hastily). We're not from these parts, Sir.
    POZZO:
    (halting). You are human beings 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 him.
    VLADIMIR:
    True . . . we don't know him very well . . . but all the same . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    Personally, I wouldn't even know him if I saw him.
    POZZO:
    You took me for him.
    ESTRAGON:
    (recoiling before Pozzo). That's to say . . . you understand . . . the dusk . . . the strain . . . waiting . . . I confess . . . I imagined . . . for a second . . .
    POZZO:
    Waiting? So you were waiting for him?
    VLADIMIR:
    Well you see—
    POZZO:
    Here? On my land?
    VLADIMIR:
    We didn't intend any harm.
    ESTRAGON:
    We meant well.
    POZZO:
    The road is free to all.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's how we looked at it.
    POZZO:
    It's a disgrace. But there you are.
    ESTRAGON:
    Nothing we can do about it.
    POZZO:
    (with magnanimous gesture). Let's say no more about it. (He jerks the rope.) Up pig! (Pause.) Every time he drops he falls asleep. (Jerks the rope.) Up hog! (Noise of Lucky getting up and picking up his baggage. Pozzo jerks the rope.) Back! (Enter Lucky backwards.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Turn! (Lucky turns. To Vladimir and Estragon, affably.) Gentlemen, I am happy to have met you. (Before their incredulous expression.) Yes yes, sincerely happy. (He jerks the rope.) Closer! (Lucky advances.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Yes, the road seems long when one journeys all alone for . . . (he consults his watch) . . . yes . . . (he calculates) . . . yes, six hours, that's right, six hours on end, and never a soul in sight. (To Lucky.) Coat! (Lucky puts down the bag, advances, gives the coat, goes back to his place, takes up the bag.) Hold that! (Pozzo holds out the whip. Lucky advances and, both his hands being occupied, takes the whip in his mouth, then goes back to his place. Pozzo begins to put on his coat, stops.) Coat! (Lucky puts down the bag, basket and stool, helps Pozzo on with his coat, goes back to his place and takes up bag, basket and stool.) Touch of autumn in the air this evening. (Pozzo finishes buttoning up his coat, stoops, inspects himself, straightens up.) Whip! (Lucky advances, stoops, Pozzo snatches the whip from his mouth, Lucky goes back to his place.) Yes, gentlemen, I cannot go for long without the society of my likes (he puts on his glasses and looks at the two likes) even when the likeness is an imperfect one. (He takes off his glasses.) Stool! (Lucky puts down bag and basket, advances, opens stool, puts it down, goes back to his place, takes up bag and basket.) Closer! (Lucky puts down bag and basket, advances, moves stool, goes back to his place, takes up bag and basket. Pozzo sits down, places the butt of his whip against Lucky's chest and pushes.) Back! (Lucky takes a step back.) Further! (Lucky takes another step back.) Stop! (Lucky stops. To Vladimir and Estragon.) That is why, with your permission, I propose to dally with you a moment, before I venture any further. Basket! (Lucky advances, gives the basket, goes back to his place.) The fresh air stimulates the jaded appetite. (He opens the basket, takes out a piece of chicken and a bottle of wine.) Basket! (Lucky advances, picks up the basket and goes back to his place.) Further! (Lucky takes a step back.) He stinks. Happy days!
    He drinks from the bottle, puts it down and begins to eat. Silence. #

    Vladimir and Estragon, cautiously at first, then more boldly, begin to circle about Lucky, inspecting him up and down. Pozzo eats his chicken voraciously, throwing away the bones after having sucked them. Lucky sags slowly, until bag and basket touch the ground, then straightens up with a start and begins to sag again. Rhythm of one sleeping on his feet.
    ESTRAGON:
    What ails him?
    VLADIMIR:
    He looks tired.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why doesn't he put down his bags?
    VLADIMIR:
    How do I know? (They close in on him.) Careful!
    ESTRAGON:
    Say something to him.
    VLADIMIR:
    Look!
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    (pointing). His neck!
    ESTRAGON:
    (looking at the neck). I see nothing.
    VLADIMIR:
    Here.
    Estragon goes over beside Vladimir.
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh I say!
    VLADIMIR:
    A running sore!
    ESTRAGON:
    It's the rope.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's the rubbing.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's inevitable.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's the knot.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's the chafing.
    They resume their inspection, dwell on the face.
    VLADIMIR:
    (grudgingly). He's not bad looking.
    ESTRAGON:
    (shrugging his shoulders, wry face.) Would you say so?
    VLADIMIR:
    A trifle effeminate.
    ESTRAGON:
    Look at the slobber.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's inevitable.
    ESTRAGON:
    Look at the slaver.
    VLADIMIR:
    Perhaps he's a halfwit.
    ESTRAGON:
    A cretin.
    VLADIMIR:
    (looking closer). Looks like a goiter.
    ESTRAGON:
    (ditto). It's not certain.
    VLADIMIR:
    He's panting.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's inevitable.
    VLADIMIR:
    And his eyes!
    ESTRAGON:
    What about them?
    VLADIMIR:
    Goggling out of his head.
    ESTRAGON:
    Looks like his last gasp to me.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's not certain. (Pause.) Ask him a question.
    ESTRAGON:
    Would that be a good thing?
    VLADIMIR:
    What do we risk?
    ESTRAGON:
    (timidly). Mister . . .
    VLADIMIR:
    Louder.
    ESTRAGON:
    (louder). Mister . . .
    POZZO:
    Leave him in peace! (They turn toward Pozzo who, having finished eating, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.) Can't you see he wants to rest? Basket! (He strikes a match and begins to light his pipe. Estragon sees the chicken bones on the ground and stares at them greedily. As Lucky does not move Pozzo throws the match angrily away and jerks the rope.) Basket! (Lucky starts, almost falls, recovers his senses, advances, puts the bottle in the basket and goes back to his place. Estragon stares at the bones. Pozzo strikes another match and lights his pipe.) What can you expect, it's not his job. (He pulls at his pipe, stretches out his legs.) Ah! That's better.
    ESTRAGON:
    (timidly). Please Sir . . .
    POZZO:
    What is it, my good man?
    ESTRAGON:
    Er . . . you've finished with the . . . er . . . you don't need the . . . er . . . bones, Sir?
    VLADIMIR:
    (scandalized). You couldn't have waited?
    POZZO:
    No no, he does well to ask. Do I need the bones? (He turns them over with the end of his whip.) No, personally I do not need them any more. (Estragon takes a step towards the bones.) But . . . (Estragon stops short) . . . but in theory the bones go to the carrier. He is therefore the one to ask. (Estragon turns towards Lucky, hesitates.) Go on, go on, don't be afraid, ask him, he'll tell you.
    Estragon goes towards Lucky, stops before him.
    ESTRAGON:
    Mister . . . excuse me, Mister . . .
    POZZO:
    You're being spoken to, pig! Reply! (To Estragon.) Try him again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Excuse me, Mister, the bones, you won't be wanting the bones?
    Lucky looks long at Estragon.
    POZZO:
    (in raptures). Mister! (Lucky bows his head.) Reply! Do you want them or don't you? (Silence of Lucky. To Estragon.) They're yours. (Estragon makes a dart at the bones, picks them up and begins to gnaw them.) I don't like it. I've never known him to refuse a bone before. (He looks anxiously at Lucky.) Nice business it'd be if he fell sick on me!
    He puffs at his pipe.
    VLADIMIR:
    (exploding). It's a scandal!
    Silence. Flabbergasted, Estragon stops gnawing, looks at Pozzo and Vladimir in turn. Pozzo outwardly calm. Vladimir embarrassed.
    POZZO:
    (To Vladimir). Are you alluding to anything in particular?
    VLADIMIR:
    (stutteringly resolute). To treat a man . . . (gesture towards Lucky) . . . like that . . . I think that . . . no . . . a human being . . . no . . . it's a scandal!
    ESTRAGON:
    (not to be outdone). A disgrace!
    He resumes his gnawing.
    POZZO:
    You are severe. (To Vladimir.) What age are you, if it's not a rude question? (Silence.) Sixty? Seventy? (To Estragon.) What age would you say he was?
    ESTRAGON:
    Eleven.
    POZZO:
    I am impertinent. (He knocks out his pipe against the whip, gets up.) I must be getting on. Thank you for your society. (He reflects.) Unless I smoke another pipe before I go. What do you say? (They say nothing.) Oh I'm only a small smoker, a very small smoker, I'm not in the habit of smoking two pipes one on top of the other, it makes (hand to heart, sighing) my heart go pit-a-pat. (Silence.) It's the nicotine, one absorbs it in spite of one's precautions. (Sighs.) You know how it is. (Silence.) But perhaps you don't smoke? Yes? No? It's of no importance. (Silence.) But how am I to sit down now, without affectation, now that I have risen? Without appearing to –how shall I say– without appearing to falter. (To Vladimir.) I beg your pardon? (Silence.) Perhaps you didn't speak? (Silence.) It's of no importance. Let me see . . .
    He reflects.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ah! That's better.
    He puts the bones in his pocket.
    VLADIMIR:
    Let's go.
    ESTRAGON:
    So soon?
    POZZO:
    One moment! (He jerks the rope.) Stool! (He points with his whip. Lucky moves the stool.) More! There! (He sits down. Lucky goes back to his place.) Done it!
    He fills his pipe.
    VLADIMIR:
    (vehemently). Let's go!
    POZZO:
    I hope I'm not driving you away. Wait a little longer, you'll never regret it.
    ESTRAGON:
    (scenting charity). We're in no hurry.
    POZZO:
    (having lit his pipe). The second is never so sweet . . . (he takes the pipe out of his mouth, contemplates it) . . . as the first I mean. (He puts the pipe back in his mouth.) But it's sweet just the same.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'm going.
    POZZO:
    He can no longer endure my presence. I am perhaps not particularly human, but who cares? (To Vladimir.) Think twice before you do anything rash. Suppose you go now while it is still day, for there is no denying it is still day. (They all look up at the sky.) Good. (They stop looking at the sky.) What happens in that case– (he takes the pipe out of his mouth, examines it) –I'm out– (he relights his pipe) –in that case– (puff) –in that case– (puff) –what happens in that case to your appointment with this . . . Godet . . . Godot . . . Godin . . . anyhow you see who I mean, who has your future in his hands . . . (pause) . . . at least your immediate future?
    VLADIMIR:
    Who told you?
    POZZO:
    He speaks to me again! If this goes on much longer we'll soon be old friends.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why doesn't he put down his bags?
    POZZO:
    I too would be happy to meet him. The more people I meet the happier I become. From the meanest creature one departs wiser, richer, more conscious of one's blessings. Even you . . . (he looks at them ostentatiously in turn to make it clear they are both meant) . . . even you, who knows, will have added to my store.
    ESTRAGON:
    Why doesn't he put down his bags?
    POZZO:
    But that would surprise me.
    VLADIMIR:
    You're being asked a question.
    POZZO:
    (delighted). A question! Who? What? A moment ago you were calling me Sir, in fear and trembling. Now you're asking me questions. No good will come of this!
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). I think he's listening.
    ESTRAGON:
    (circling about Lucky). What?
    VLADIMIR:
    You can ask him now. He's on the alert.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ask him what?
    VLADIMIR:
    Why he doesn't put down his bags.
    ESTRAGON:
    I wonder.
    VLADIMIR:
    Ask him, can't you?
    POZZO:
    (who has followed these exchanges with anxious attention, fearing lest the question get lost). You want to know why he doesn't put down his bags, as you call them.
    VLADIMIR:
    That's it.
    POZZO:
    (to Estragon). You are sure you agree with that?
    ESTRAGON:
    He's puffing like a grampus.
    POZZO:
    The answer is this. (To Estragon). But stay still, I beg of you, you're making me nervous!
    VLADIMIR:
    Here.
    ESTRAGON:
    What is it?
    VLADIMIR:
    He's about to speak.
    Estragon goes over beside Vladimir. Motionless, side by side, they wait.
    POZZO:
    Good. Is everybody ready? Is everybody looking at me? (He looks at Lucky, jerks the rope. Lucky raises his head.) Will you look at me, pig! (Lucky looks at him.) Good. (He puts the pipe in his pocket, takes out a little vaporizer and sprays his throat, puts back the vaporizer in his pocket, clears his throat, spits, takes out the vaporizer again, sprays his throat again, puts back the vaporizer in his pocket.) I am ready. Is everybody listening? Is everybody ready? (He looks at them all in turn, jerks the rope.) Hog! (Lucky raises his head.) I don't like talking in a vacuum. Good. Let me see.
    He reflects.
    ESTRAGON:
    I'm going.
    POZZO:
    What was it exactly you wanted to know?
    VLADIMIR:
    Why he—
    POZZO:
    (angrily). Don't interrupt me! (Pause. Calmer.) If we all speak at once we'll never get anywhere. (Pause.) What was I saying? (Pause. Louder.) What was I saying?
    Vladimir mimics one carrying a heavy burden. Pozzo looks at him, puzzled.
    ESTRAGON:
    (forcibly). Bags. (He points at Lucky.) Why? Always hold. (He sags, panting.) Never put down. (He opens his hands, straightens up with relief.) Why?
    POZZO:
    Ah! Why couldn't you say so before? Why he doesn't make himself comfortable? Let's try and get this clear. Has he not the right to? Certainly he has. It follows that he doesn't want to. There's reasoning for you. And why doesn't he want to? (Pause.) Gentlemen, the reason is this.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). Make a note of this.
    POZZO:
    He wants to impress me, so that I'll keep him.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    POZZO:
    Perhaps I haven't got it quite right. He wants to mollify me, so that I'll give up the idea of parting with him. No, that's not exactly it either.
    VLADIMIR:
    You want to get rid of him?
    POZZO:
    He wants to con me, but he won't.
    VLADIMIR:
    You want to get rid of him?
    POZZO:
    He imagines that when I see how well he carries I'll be tempted to keep him on in that capacity.
    ESTRAGON:
    You've had enough of him?
    POZZO:
    In reality he carries like a pig. It's not his job.
    VLADIMIR:
    You want to get rid of him?
    POZZO:
    He imagines that when I see him indefatigable I'll regret my decision. Such is his miserable scheme. As though I were short of slaves! (All three look at Lucky.) Atlas, son of Jupiter! (Silence.) Well, that's that, I think. Anything else?
    Vaporizer.
    VLADIMIR:
    You want to get rid of him?
    POZZO:
    Remark that I might just as well have been in his shoes and he in mine. If chance had not willed otherwise. To each one his due.
    VLADIMIR:
    You waagerrim?
    POZZO:
    I beg your pardon?
    VLADIMIR:
    You want to get rid of him?
    POZZO:
    I do. But instead of driving him away as I might have done, I mean instead of simply kicking him out on his arse, in the goodness of my heart I am bringing him to the fair, where I hope to get a good price for him. The truth is you can't drive such creatures away. The best thing would be to kill them.
    Lucky weeps.
    ESTRAGON:
    He's crying!
    POZZO:
    Old dogs have more dignity. (He proffers his handkerchief to Estragon.) Comfort him, since you pity him. (Estragon hesitates.) Come on. (Estragon takes the handkerchief.) Wipe away his tears, he'll feel less forsaken.
    Estragon hesitates.
    VLADIMIR:
    Here, give it to me, I'll do it.
    Estragon refuses to give the handkerchief.
    Childish gestures.
    POZZO:
    Make haste, before he stops. (Estragon approaches Lucky and makes to wipe his eyes. Lucky kicks him violently in the shins. Estragon drops the handkerchief, recoils, staggers about the stage howling with pain.) Hanky!
    Lucky puts down bag and basket, picks up handkerchief and gives it to Pozzo, goes back to his place, picks up bag and basket.
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh the swine! (He pulls up the leg of his trousers.) He's crippled me!
    POZZO:
    I told you he didn't like strangers.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon). Show me. (Estragon shows his leg. To Pozzo, angrily.) He's bleeding!
    POZZO:
    It's a good sign.
    ESTRAGON:
    (on one leg). I'll never walk again!
    VLADIMIR:
    (tenderly). I'll carry you. (Pause.) If necessary.
    POZZO:
    He's stopped crying. (To Estragon.) You have replaced him as it were. (Lyrically.) 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. (He laughs.) Let us not then speak ill of our generation, it is not any unhappier than its predecessors. (Pause.) Let us not speak well of it either. (Pause.) Let us not speak of it at all. (Pause. Judiciously.) It is true the population has increased.
    VLADIMIR:
    Try and walk.
    Estragon takes a few limping steps, stops before Lucky and spits on him, then goes and sits down on the mound.
    POZZO:
    Guess who taught me all these beautiful things. (Pause. Pointing to Lucky.) My Lucky!
    VLADIMIR:
    (looking at the sky.) Will night never come?
    POZZO:
    But for him all my thoughts, all my feelings, would have been of common things. (Pause. With extraordinary vehemence.) Professional worries! (Calmer.) Beauty, grace, truth of the first water, I knew they were all beyond me. So I took a knook.
    VLADIMIR:
    (startled from his inspection of the sky). A knook?
    POZZO:
    That was nearly sixty years ago . . . (he consults his watch) . . . yes, nearly sixty. (Drawing himself up proudly.) You wouldn't think it to look at me, would you? Compared to him I look like a young man, no? (Pause.) Hat! (Lucky puts down the basket and takes off his hat. His long white hair falls about his face. He puts his hat under his arm and picks up the basket.) Now look. (Pozzo takes off his hat. [All four wear bowlers.] He is completely bald. He puts on his hat again.) Did you see?
    VLADIMIR:
    And now you turn him away? Such an old and faithful servant!
    ESTRAGON:
    Swine!
    Pozzo more and more agitated.
    VLADIMIR:
    After having sucked all the good out of him you chuck him away like a . . . like a banana skin. Really . . .
    POZZO:
    (groaning, clutching his head). I can't bear it . . . any longer . . . the way he goes on . . . you've no idea . . . it's terrible . . . he must go . . . (he waves his arms) . . . I'm going mad . . . (he collapses, his head in his hands) . . . I can't bear it . . . any longer . . .
    Silence. All look at Pozzo.
    VLADIMIR:
    He can't bear it.
    ESTRAGON:
    Any longer.
    VLADIMIR:
    He's going mad.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's terrible.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Lucky). How dare you! It's abominable! Such a good master! Crucify him like that! After so many years! Really!
    POZZO:
    (sobbing). He used to be so kind . . . so helpful . . . and entertaining . . . my good angel . . . and now . . . he's killing me.
    ESTRAGON:
    ( to Vladimir). Does he want to replace him?
    VLADIMIR:
    What?
    ESTRAGON:
    Does he want someone to take his place or not?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't think so.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    VLADIMIR:
    I don't know.
    ESTRAGON:
    Ask him.
    POZZO:
    (calmer). Gentlemen, I don't know what came over me. Forgive me. Forget all I said. (More and more his old self.) I don't remember exactly what it was, but you may be sure there wasn't a word of truth in it. (Drawing himself up, striking his chest.) Do I look like a man that can be made to suffer? Frankly? (He rummages in his pockets.) What have I done with my pipe?
    VLADIMIR:
    Charming evening we're having.
    ESTRAGON:
    Unforgettable.
    VLADIMIR:
    And it's not over.
    ESTRAGON:
    Apparently not.
    VLADIMIR:
    It's only beginning.
    ESTRAGON:
    It's awful.
    VLADIMIR:
    Worse than the pantomime.
    ESTRAGON:
    The circus.
    VLADIMIR:
    The music-hall.
    ESTRAGON:
    The circus.
    POZZO:
    What can I have done with that briar?
    ESTRAGON:
    He's a scream. He's lost his dudeen.
    Laughs noisily.
    VLADIMIR:
    I'll be back.
    He hastens towards the wings.
    ESTRAGON:
    End of the corridor, on the left.
    VLADIMIR:
    Keep my seat.
    Exit Vladimir.
    POZZO:
    (on the point of tears). I've lost my Kapp and Peterson!
    ESTRAGON:
    (convulsed with merriment). He'll be the death of me!
    POZZO:
    You didn't see by any chance– (He misses Vladimir.) Oh! He's gone! Without saying goodbye! How could he! He might have waited!
    ESTRAGON:
    He would have burst.
    POZZO:
    Oh! (Pause.) Oh well then of course in that case . . .
    ESTRAGON:
    Come here.
    POZZO:
    What for?
    ESTRAGON:
    You'll see.
    POZZO:
    You want me to get up?
    ESTRAGON:
    Quick! (Pozzo gets up and goes over beside Estragon. Estragon points off.) Look!
    POZZO:
    (having put on his glasses). Oh I say!
    ESTRAGON:
    It's all over.
    Enter Vladimir, somber. He shoulders Lucky out of his way, kicks over the stool, comes and goes agitatedly.
    POZZO:
    He's not pleased.
    ESTRAGON:
    (to Vladimir). You missed a treat. Pity.
    Vladimir halts, straightens the stool, comes and goes, calmer.
    POZZO:
    He subsides. (Looking round.) Indeed all subsides. A great calm descends. (Raising his hand.) Listen! Pan sleeps.
    VLADIMIR:
    Will night never come?
    All three look at the sky.
    POZZO:
    You don't feel like going until it does?
    ESTRAGON:
    Well you see—
    POZZO:
    Why it's very natural, very natural. I myself in your situation, if I had an appointment with a Godin . . . Godet . . . Godot . . . anyhow, you see who I mean, I'd wait till it was black night before I gave up. (He looks at the stool.) I'd very much like to sit down, but I don't quite know how to go about it.
    ESTRAGON:
    Could I be of any help?
    POZZO:
    If you asked me perhaps.
    ESTRAGON:
    What?
    POZZO:
    If you asked me to sit down.
    ESTRAGON:
    Would that be a help?
    POZZO:
    I fancy so.
    ESTRAGON:
    Here we go. Be seated, Sir, I beg of you.
    POZZO:
    No no, I wouldn't think of it! (Pause. Aside.) Ask me again.
    ESTRAGON:
    Come come, take a seat I beseech you, you'll get pneumonia.
    POZZO:
    You really think so?
    ESTRAGON:
    Why it's absolutely certain.
    POZZO:
    No doubt you are right. (He sits down.) Done it again! (Pause.) Thank you, dear fellow. (He consults his watch.) But I must really be getting along, if I am to observe my schedule.
    VLADIMIR:
    Time has stopped.
    POZZO:
    (cuddling his watch to his ear). Don't you believe it, Sir, don't you believe it. (He puts his watch back in his pocket.) Whatever you like, but not that.
    ESTRAGON:
    (to Pozzo). Everything seems black to him today.
    POZZO:
    Except the firmament. (He laughs, pleased with this witticism.) But I see what it is, you are not from these parts, you don't know what our twilights can do. Shall I tell you? (Silence. Estragon is fiddling with his boot again, Vladimir with his hat.) I can't refuse you. (Vaporizer.) A little attention, if you please. (Vladimir and Estragon continue their fiddling, Lucky is half asleep. Pozzo cracks his whip feebly.) What's the matter with this whip? (He gets up and cracks it more vigorously, finally with success. Lucky jumps. Vladimir's hat, Estragon's boot, Lucky's hat, fall to the ground. Pozzo throws down the whip.) Worn out, this whip. (He looks at Vladimir and Estragon.) What was I saying?
    VLADIMIR:
    Let's go.
    ESTRAGON:
    But take the weight off your feet, I implore you, you'll catch your death.
    POZZO:
    True. (He sits down. To Estragon.) What is your name?
    ESTRAGON:
    Adam.
    POZZO:
    (who hasn't listened). Ah yes! The night. (He raises his head.) But be a little more attentive, for pity's sake, otherwise we'll never get anywhere. (He looks at the sky.) Look! (All look at the sky except Lucky who is dozing off again. Pozzo jerks the rope.) Will you look at the sky, pig! (Lucky looks at the sky.) Good, that's enough. (They stop looking at the sky.) What is there so extraordinary about it? Qua sky. It is pale and luminous like any sky at this hour of the day. (Pause.) In these latitudes. (Pause.) When the weather is fine. (Lyrical.) An hour ago (he looks at his watch, prosaic) roughly (lyrical) after having poured forth even since (he hesitates, prosaic) say ten o'clock in the morning (lyrical) tirelessly torrents of red and white light it begins to lose its effulgence, to grow pale (gesture of the two hands lapsing by stages) pale, ever a little paler, a little paler until (dramatic pause, ample gesture of the two hands flung wide apart) pppfff! finished! it comes to rest. But– (hand raised in admonition)– but behind this veil of gentleness and peace, night is charging (vibrantly) and will burst upon us (snaps his fingers) pop! like that! (his inspiration leaves him) just when we least expect it. (Silence. Gloomily.) That's how it is on this bitch of an earth.
    Long silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    So long as one knows.
    VLADIMIR:
    One can bide one's time.
    ESTRAGON:
    One knows what to expect.
    VLADIMIR:
    No further need to worry.
    ESTRAGON:
    Simply wait.
    VLADIMIR:
    We're used to it.
    He picks up his hat, peers inside it, shakes it, puts it on.
    POZZO:
    How did you find me? (Vladimir and Estragon look at him blankly.) Good? Fair? Middling? Poor? Positively bad?
    VLADIMIR:
    (first to understand). Oh very good, very very good.
    POZZO:
    (to Estragon). And you, Sir?
    ESTRAGON:
    Oh tray bong, tray tray tray bong.
    POZZO:
    (fervently). Bless you, gentlemen, bless you! (Pause.) I have such need of encouragement! (Pause.) I weakened a little towards the end, you didn't notice?
    VLADIMIR:
    Oh perhaps just a teeny weeny little bit.
    ESTRAGON:
    I thought it was intentional.
    POZZO:
    You see my memory is defective.
    Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    In the meantime, nothing happens.
    POZZO:
    You find it tedious?
    ESTRAGON:
    Somewhat.
    POZZO:
    (to Vladimir). And you, Sir?
    VLADIMIR:
    I've been better entertained.
    Silence. Pozzo struggles inwardly.
    POZZO:
    Gentlemen, you have been . . . civil to me.
    ESTRAGON:
    Not at all!
    VLADIMIR:
    What an idea!
    POZZO:
    Yes yes, you have been correct. So that I ask myself is there anything I can do in my turn for these honest fellows who are having such a dull, dull time.
    ESTRAGON:
    Even ten francs would be a help.
    VLADIMIR:
    We are not beggars!
    POZZO:
    Is there anything I can do, that's what I ask myself, to cheer them up? I have given them bones, I have talked to them about this and that, I have explained the twilight, admittedly. But is it enough, that's what tortures me, is it enough?
    ESTRAGON:
    Even five.
    VLADIMIR:
    (to Estragon, indignantly). That's enough!
    ESTRAGON:
    I couldn't accept less.
    POZZO:
    Is is enough? No doubt. But I am liberal. It's my nature. This evening. So much the worse for me. (He jerks the rope. Lucky looks at him.) 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 not move. Silence.
    ESTRAGON:
    What's he waiting for?
    POZZO:
    Stand back! (Vladimir and Estragon move away from Lucky. Pozzo jerks the rope. Lucky looks at Pozzo.) Think, pig! (Pause. Lucky begins to dance.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Forward! (Lucky advances.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Think!
    Silence.
    LUCKY:
    On the other hand with regard to—
    POZZO:
    Stop! (Lucky stops.) Back! (Lucky moves back.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Turn! (Lucky turns towards auditorium.) Think!

    During Lucky's tirade the others react as follows.
    1) Vladimir and Estragon all attention, Pozzo dejected and disgusted.
    2) Vladimir and Estragon begin to protest, Pozzo's sufferings increase.
    3) Vladimir and Estragon attentive again, Pozzo more and more agitated and groaning.
    4) Vladimir and Estragon protest violently. Pozzo jumps up, pulls on the rope. General outcry. Lucky pulls on the rope, staggers, shouts his text. All three throw themselves on Lucky who struggles and shouts his text.
    LUCKY:
    Given the existence as uttered forth in the public works of Puncher and Wattmann of a personal God quaquaquaqua with white beard quaquaquaqua outside time without extension who from the heights of divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia loves us dearly with some exceptions for reasons unknown but time will tell and suffers like the divine Miranda with those who for reasons unknown but time will tell are plunged in torment plunged in fire whose fire flames if that continues and who can doubt it will fire the firmament that is to say blast hell to heaven so blue still and calm so calm with a calm which even though intermittent is better than nothing but not so fast and considering what is more that as a result of the labors left unfinished crowned by the Acacacacademy of Anthropopopometry of Essy-in-Possy of Testew and Cunard it is established beyond all doubt all other doubt than that which clings to the labors of men that as a result of the labors unfinished of Testew and Cunnard it is established as hereinafter but not so fast for reasons unknown that as a result of the public works of Puncher and Wattmann it is established beyond all doubt that in view of the labors of Fartov and Belcher left unfinished for reasons unknown of Testew and Cunard left unfinished it is established what many deny that man in Possy of Testew and Cunard that man in Essy that man in short that man in brief in spite of the strides of alimentation and defecation wastes and pines wastes and pines and concurrently simultaneously what is more for reasons unknown in spite of the strides of physical culture the practice of sports such as tennis football running cycling swimming flying floating riding gliding conating camogie skating tennis of all kinds dying flying sports of all sorts autumn summer winter winter tennis of all kinds hockey of all sorts penicillin and succedanea in a word I resume flying gliding golf over nine and eighteen holes tennis of all sorts in a word for reasons unknown in Feckham Peckham Fulham Clapham namely concurrently simultaneously what is more for reasons unknown but time will tell fades away I resume Fulham Clapham in a word the dead loss per head since the death of Bishop Berkeley being to the tune of one inch four ounce per head approximately by and large more or less to the nearest decimal good measure round figures stark naked in the stockinged feet in Connemara in a word for reasons unknown no matter what matter the facts are there and considering what is more much more grave that in the light of the labors lost of Steinweg and Peterman it appears what is more much more grave that in the light the light the light of the labors lost of Steinweg and Peterman that in the plains in the mountains by the seas by the rivers running water running fire the air is the same and then the earth namely the air and then the earth in the great cold the great dark the air and the earth abode of stones in the great cold alas alas in the year of their Lord six hundred and something the air the earth the sea the earth abode of stones in the great deeps the great cold on sea on land and in the air I resume for reasons unknown in spite of the tennis the facts are there but time will tell I resume alas alas on on in short in fine on on abode of stones who can doubt it I resume but not so fast I resume the skull fading fading fading and concurrently simultaneously what is more for reasons unknown in spite of the tennis on on the beard the flames the tears the stones so blue so calm alas alas on on the skull the skull the skull the skull in Connemara in spite of the tennis the labors abandoned left unfinished graver still abode of stones in a word I resume alas alas abandoned unfinished the skull the skull in Connemara in spite of the tennis the skull alas the stones Cunard (mêlée, final vociferations) tennis . . . the stones . . . so calm . . . Cunard . . . unfinished . . .
    POZZO:
    His hat!
    Vladimir seizes Lucky's hat. Silence of Lucky. He falls. Silence. Panting of the victors.
    ESTRAGON:
    Avenged!
    Vladimir examines the hat, peers inside it.
    POZZO:
    Give me that! (He snatches the hat from Vladimir, throws it on the ground, tramples on it.) There's an end to his thinking!
    VLADIMIR:
    But will he be able to walk?
    POZZO:
    Walk or crawl! (He kicks Lucky.) Up pig!
    ESTRAGON:
    Perhaps he's dead.
    VLADIMIR:
    You'll kill him.
    POZZO:
    Up scum! (He jerks the rope.) Help me!
    VLADIMIR:
    How?
    POZZO:
    Raise him up!
    Vladimir and Estragon hoist Lucky to his feet, support him an instant, then let him go. He falls.
    ESTRAGON:
    He's doing it on purpose!
    POZZO:
    You must hold him. (Pause.) Come on, come on, raise him up.
    ESTRAGON:
    To hell with him!
    VLADIMIR:
    Come on, once more.
    ESTRAGON:
    What does he take us for?
    They raise Lucky, hold him up.
    POZZO:
    Don't let him go! (Vladimir and Estragon totter.) Don't move! (Pozzo fetches bag and basket and brings them towards Lucky.) Hold him tight! (He puts the bag in Lucky's hand. Lucky drops it immediately.) Don't let him go! (He puts back the bag in Lucky's hand. Gradually, at the feel of the bag, Lucky recovers his senses and his fingers finally close round the handle.) Hold him tight! (As before with basket.) #

    Now! You can let him go. (Vladimir and Estragon move away from Lucky who totters, reels, sags, but succeeds in remaining on his feet, bag and basket in his hands. Pozzo steps back, cracks his whip.) Forward! (Lucky totters forward.) Back! (Lucky totters back.) Turn! (Lucky turns.) Done it! He can walk. (Turning to Vladimir and Estragon.) Thank you, gentlemen, and let me . . . (he fumbles in his pockets) . . . let me wish you . . . (fumbles) . . . wish you . . . (fumbles) . . . what have I done with my watch? (Fumbles.) A genuine half-hunter, gentlemen, with deadbeat escapement! (Sobbing.) Twas my granpa gave it to me! (He searches on the ground, Vladimir and Estragon likewise. Pozzo turn
     
  5. God_is_great

    God_is_great New Member

    Don't be a puff. Ehy the hell did you type all that crap out? Waiting for godot's crap mate.
     
  6. Anonymous

    Anonymous Guest

    Thankyou for your reply...

    I had read every word of that relpy that you had sent in, but we appear to be losing the status of what love is really all about, its not about who can hit the most girls or who is the most attractive, its also about our passion and happiness towards great people that we admire.
    People today just see love as a joke, which it isn't, people don't seem to take it that seriously our days. And so this is hat i woiuld like to say about it, but first why should we all love each other?

    I have a question that may sound a little bit hypocritical coming from a follower of Jesus, but I wanted to ask someone I could trust, who didn't know me, and who wouldn't release my name. I've really enjoyed the tips and articles here on the Boundless webzine, and my mother listens to Focus on the Family all the time on the radio, so I am really familiar with you guys.

    I have been in Christian school for most of my life, I go to a wonderful church, and my family all love and serve the Lord. My girlfriend was responsible for getting me to join my current church; she is truly my gift from God.

    This brings me to my point. My girlfriend and I have been together for nearly a year now, and we would get married if not for our remaining years in college. She can envision our future together, as can I, all ordained by God and blessed by our pastor. We recently decided to engage in sexual intercourse. We both had questions about our decision to do this and we both decided to seek advice before deciding to have sex again. We are truly in love, and we connected spiritually before we even decided to have sex. After intercourse, we felt an even closer bond than ever before. Without a doubt, we are mentally, spiritually and emotionally married; our marriage is only missing a ring, a preacher and a church ceremony to make it official.

    If we make sure that we use protection, is it really that wrong for us to engage in making love? The Lord frowns on promiscuity, but we are not being promiscuous. The Lord values lifelong commitment and the two of us are as committed as a couple can be. I would like your opinion on this matter as we are both praying and seeking an answer.

    If someone can answer this question for me, i shall hope that god'll give you his blessings...
     
  7. God_is_great

    God_is_great New Member

    Yes James. I totally agree with everthing you say. You see you are a real christian. You should remember that.
     
  8. Madeleine

    Madeleine New Member

    James - some would actually say that sexual intercourse is marriage... and the ceremony, ring etc. mainly serves as a reminder of your commitment to each other.

    I guess it's a bit like me not being baptised. I do not take holy communion, but I guess I just refrain from that to respect the traditions of the Anglican Church. But what is a baptism? Usually performed at birth, a person is welcomed into their Christian family. The first time I went to Church, I was certainly welcomed! I haven't had water poured on my head and stuff, but I disagree with anyone who argues that not being baptised means I am not a Christian!

    I didn't become a Christian until last year. My boyfriend was already a Christian and I used to ask him endless questions about it. In a way, I was jealous of his faith. I wanted to know how he knew God existed! It was marvellous when I found out for myself and he was really supportive, which I needed, especially as I was still living with my family at the time, who are atheists. They looked pretty disgusted when they first found out, but of course they learned to accept it!

    Anyway, we have been together for about a year and a half. We have decided to keep our relationship non-sexual, for a variety of reasons, some of them...

    1) We are at opposite ends of the country during university term-time.
    2) We are only 19, so it is not socially acceptable or feasible for us to be married.
    3) I am not in a position to have a child, therefore I am not prepared to risk pregnancy.
    4) The longer you wait, the more you appreciate it.

    Our situation differs from yours. Although I pray all the time that one day I will get to marry him (he's wonderful, just the sort of man I would like to spend the rest of my life here on Earth with!), I can't be sure that it will actually happen. He shows no signs of wanting to break up with me and assures me that he loves me. I have been lied to before about this, but this time it's different. I can't imagine him saying that if he didn't mean it. However, he still might not feel quite the same way.

    But it sounds as if you and your girlfriend are sure about wanting to be together, but if you have any doubts about sexual intercourse, then it may be that you're not quite ready.

    Keep praying on it, James. God will guide you!
     
  9. someguy

    someguy New Member

    First of all:

    Waiting for Godot is complete crap...
    It is the opposite of christian. Beckett believed that Christianity was mythology...He is MAKING FUN OF CHRISTIANS by showing two people waiting for God with NO results.

    Second of all:

    Its so sad... Many people don't realize that you HAVE to be baptized to go to heaven. It says so in the Bible clearly.
    You can be a great christian and not be saved because you weren't baptized into Christ!
    And this is the same vise versa...
    Being baptized doesn't mean that you are automatically saved. You have to be good also.

    And what I don't understand is.... Why NOT be baptized anyways??? Are they just lazy???
    Or too ashamed of getting in front of people to show that they commit to Christ?
     
  10. Aineo

    Aineo Active Member

    someguy, I discern from you post that you belong to or advocate concepts that are considered cultish, which means you are not allowed to post in this section of this message board.

    I also discern that your attitude is far from Christian, therefore refrain from posting in this section or your posts will be deleted.

    You can post all you want in sections that are not restricted.
     
  11. server_dude

    server_dude New Member

    Yes, i must say i quite agree. I'm just a newbie to judge, but you appear to have no understanding for how other people have their own views.
     
  12. FresnoJoe

    FresnoJoe New Member

    For With God All Things Are Possible

    Dear Rowdy Brothers

    I just climbed back up into my chair.
    Some wise guys got me laughing so hard, I fell off!

    {Why we should all love each other}

    "And they were astonished out of measure, saying among themselves, Who then can be saved?
    And Jesus looking upon them saith, With men it is impossible, but not with God: for with God all things are possible." (Mark 10:26-27)

    We should love each other because with God all things are possible!

    Love, Joe
     

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