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
heaven to hell 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 labours
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 labours
of men that as a result of the labours unfinished of Testew and
Cunard 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 labours
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 is seen to waste and pine waste and
pine 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 penicilline and succedanea
in a word I resume and concurrently simultaneously for reasons
unknown to shrink and dwindle in spite of the tennis 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 to shrink and dwindle I resume Fulham
Clapham in a word the dead loss per caput since the death of
Bishop Berkeley being to the tune of one inch four ounce per
caput 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 labours lost of Steinweg
and Peterman it appears what is more much more grave that in
the light the light the light of the labours 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 than 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 an 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 to shrink and waste 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 labours 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...
|
A road. A tree. Evening.
Fatimir enters, tense and pacing - then halts all of a
sudden.
FAT: (in a squeak) So, naturalis-
Halts. Resumes in normal tone.
So, naturalists observe, a flea
Hath smaller fleas that on him prey;
And these have smaller fleas to bite 'em,
And so proceed ad infini-
Halts, broods. Quietly:
And so proceed...
Nonagon enters, unobserved.
FAT: (muses) A butterfly flaps, alters a hurricane's path...
but shall this hurricane then affect the insect?
NON: What's this?
FAT: (startled} Er, nothing. Come here until I embra-
NON: (barks) Keep off!
Silence.
FAT: (pained) Were you beaten, Nini?
NON: But naturally.
FAT: Worse than last time?
NON: Which time? All of them seem the same to me now... I think.
FAT: With sticks?
NON: (querulous) There were six of them. Six! (Sulks.)
FAT: Don't start blaming me!
NON: (shrill) You left me! (Hangs head.)
FAT: Look at me!
Nonagon does so, relents. Embrace, then release.
NON: What now?
FAT: We could kill ourselves.
NON: True. Might hurt a bit.
FAT: But not for long.
Silence.
NON: How, then?
FAT: Extremely well, thanks for asking.
NON: No, how should we do it?
FAT: (looks around for inspiration) Leap from this tree?
NON: (inspects it) Is it quite high enough?
FAT: There is only one method of finding out. (polite)
After you.
NON: No, no, ladies first.
FAT: How so, Nini?
NON: I'm shorter.
FAT: And?
NON: Come on, think about it!
FAT: (uses his intelligence. Much later) I remain in the
dark.
NON: It isn't as far to the ground, darn it!
FAT: What?!
NON: (much effort) Nini leap - ground not near - Nini
dead. Titi leap - ground near - Titi alone.
FAT: Ah. I understand.
NON: At last!
FAT: But am I the taller?
NON: There's half a chance. Let's check.
They stand back to back. Neither now can see who is bigger.
FAT: (twists neck) Ermm... much of a muchness, I think.
NON: And this fall wouldn't kill me.
FAT: Indeed. It's hardly a tree at all.
NON: More a shrub.
FAT: A bush.
NON: A shrub.
FAT: What shall we do, then?
NON: (suddenly inspired) Aha! Dig an immense pit underneath
the tree!
FAT: Brilliant, Nini!
NON: Falling straight into this'd kill anything! Got a shovel?
FAT: I've got some spoons.
NON: Excellent! (Fatimir hands him one. Both lie down and
dig furiously in the dirt.)
FAT: (suddenly rises) Look what our lives have been reduced
to!
NON: (remains on the ground) Huh?
FAT: Burrowing in mud! And once upon a time we had happiness
in abundance.
NON: Ah, such sweet lightheartedness!
FAT: Spirits as light as a feather.
NON: Like bubbles.
FAT: Like tissues.
NON: Like bubbles.
Silence.
FAT: Happiness eludes us.
NON: I'm tired.
Silence.
FAT: What a state of affairs! (Tenseness returns.) Such
a dire end to Fatimir's life... (Nonagon appears drowsy.)
Nahor begat Terah begat Abraham... for this? (Mourns.)
I can't continue! (Paces. Nonagon falls asleep in the dirt.)
Child enters, timid.
CH: Mister... Mr Ninian...
FAT: (looks heavenwards) Once more unto the breach, dear
friends... (Pauses.) What is it this time? (Child looks
blank.) Wasn't it you that appeared here yesterday?
CH: No, sir.
FAT: Perhaps a brother or cousin?
CH: I don't know, sir.
Silence.
FAT: Is it a message from Mr Godot?
CH: Yes, sir.
FAT: He shan't be here tonight.
CH: No, sir.
FAT: But tomorrow, without fail.
CH: Yes, sir.
Silence.
FAT: What is Mr Godot... like? (Pause.) Well?
CH: I don't understand what you mean, sir.
FAT: Well, what does he do?
CH: He gives us tasks, sir.
FAT: No, what does HE do?
CH: He does nothing, sir.
Silence.
FAT: Tell me... what does he look like?
CH: I think he has a beard, sir.
FAT: But you're not quite sure.
CH: No, sir.
Silence.
FAT: Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani!
CH: My name isn't Eli, sir.
NON: (mumbles in his sleep) Llamasuckedarnie...
Silence.
CH: What am I to tell Mr Godot, sir?
FAT: Tell him... you saw us, and that... we were here and you
saw us. (Advances menacingly.) You did see us, didn't
you, don't turn up here tomorrow and tell me you never saw us!
(Sudden pounce. Child quickly exits, running in fear. The
sun quickly sets and the stars appear. Nonagon stirs.)
NON: Titi?
FAT: Yes, Nini?
NON: Let's quit this place.
FAT: But we mustn't.
NON: Why not?
FAT: We must wait for Godot.
NON: What, he didn't turn up?
FAT: He didn't.
Silence.
NON: Must we return here tomorrow?
FAT: We must, Nini.
NON: We could bring a spade.
FAT: True.
Silence.
NON: It might be better if you and I parted.
FAT: We'll kill ourselves tomorrow. (Pause.) Unless Godot
turns up.
NON: And if he turns up?
FAT: Then we'll be saved.
Silence.
NON: Well? Shall we go?
FAT: Yes, let's go.
They do not move.
FIN
|
