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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 cod 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.