Literaturbrevier

Samuel Beckett: Waiting for Godot

V L A D I M I R: That passed the time.
E S T R A G O N: It would have passed in any case.
V L A D I M I R: Yes, but not so rapidly.

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V L A D I M I R: We've nothing more to do here.
E S T R A G O N: Nor anywhere else.

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V L A D I M I R: Well, shall we go?
E S T R A G O N: Yes, let's go.
(They do not move.)

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E S T R A G O N: That's the way I am. Either I forget immediately or I never forget.

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E S T R A G O N: In the meantime let us try and converse calmly, since we are incapable of keeping silent.
V L A D I M I R: You're right, we're inexhaustiable.
E S T R A G O N: It's so we won't think.
V L A D I M I R: We have that excuse.
E S T R A G O N: It's so we won't hear.
V L A D I M I R: We have our reasons.
E S T R A G O N: All the dead voices.
V L A D I M I R: They make a noise like wings.
E S T R A G O N: Like leaves.
V L A D I M I R: Like sand.
E S T R A G O N: Like leaves.
(Silence.)
V L A D I M I R: They all speak together.
E S T R A G O N: Each one to itself.
(Silence.)
V L A D I M I R: Rather they whisper.
E S T R A G O N: They rustle.
V L A D I M I R: They murmur.
E S T R A G O N: They rustle.
(Silence.)
V L A D I M I R: What do they say?
E S T R A G O N: They talk about their lives.
V L A D I M I R: To have lived is not enough for them.
E S T R A G O N: They have to talk about it.
V L A D I M I R: To be dead is not enough for them.
E S T R A G O N: It is not sufficient[genügend].
(Silence.)
V L A D I M I R: They make a noise like feathers.
E S T R A G O N: Like leaves.
V L A D I M I R: Like ashes.
E S T R A G O N: Like leaves.
(Long silence.)
V L A D I M I R: Say something!
E S T R A G O N: I'm trying.

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V L A D I M I R: We could start all over again perhaps.
E S T R A G O N: That should be easy.
V L A D I M I R: It's the start that's difficult.
E S T R A G O N: You can start from anything.
V L A D I M I R: Yes, but you have to decide.

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E S T R A G O N: (looking at the tree) What is it?
V L A D I M I R: It's the tree.
E S T R A G O N: Yes, but what kind?
V L A D I M I R: I don't know. A willow. (Estragon draws Vladimir towards the tree. They stand motionless before it. Silence. )
E S T R A G O N: Why don't we hang ourselves?
V L A D I M I R: With what?
E S T R A G O N: You haven't got a bit of rope?
V L A D I M I R: No.
E S T R A G O N: Then we can't.
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