(Pause.) I can’t go on! (Pause.) What have I said? 1 (He looks again at Estragon.) At me too someone is looking, of me too someone is saying, he is sleeping, he knows nothing, let him sleep on.
(He listens.) But habit is a great deadener. Down in the hole, lingeringly, the grave-digger puts on the forceps. (Pause) Astride of a grave and a difficult birth. He’ll tell me about the blows he received and I’ll give him a carrot. Vladimir looks at him.) He’ll know nothing. But in all that what truth will there be? (Estragon, having struggled with his boots in vain, is dozing off again. Vladimir: Was I sleeping, while the others suffered? Am I sleeping now? Tomorrow, when I wake, or think I do, what shall I say of today? That with Estragon my friend, at this place, until the fall of night, I waited for Godot? That Pozzo passed, with his carrier, and that he spoke to us? Probably. Although scarcely an epistemologist or metaphysician, Vladimir has moments of lucidity in regard to their situation:
The two tramps, Vladimir and Estragon, have nothing significant to do with their lives other than waiting for the inscrutable Godot, or any significant place to be other than by the side of a road in the middle of nowhere. “Let’s go.”-“We can’t.”-“Why not?”-“We’re waiting for Godot.”-“Ah.” With this infamous refrain, Samuel Beckett introduces the strange world of Waiting for Godot. John Valentine, Savannah College of Art and Design
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