No More Learning

NELL:
Yes.
NAGG:
Then go in.
(Nell does not move. )
Why don't you go in?
NELL:
I don't know.
(Pause. )
NAGG:
Has he changed your sawdust?
NELL:
It isn't sawdust.
(Pause. Warily. )
Can you not be a little accurate, Nagg?
NAGG:
Your sand then. It's not important.
NELL:
It is important.
(Pause. )
NAGG:
It was sawdust once.
NELL:
Once!
NAGG:
And now it's sand.
(Pause. )
From the shore.
(Pause. Impatiently. )
Now it's sand he fetches from the shore.
NELL:
Now it's sand.
NAGG:
Has he changed yours?
NELL:
No.
NAGG:
Nor mine.
(Pause. )
I won't have it!
(Pause. Holding up the biscuit. )
Do you want a bit?
NELL:
No.
(Pause. )
Of what?
NAGG:
Biscuit. I've kept you half.
(He looks at the biscuit. Proudly. )
Three quarters. For you. Here.
(He proffers the biscuit. )
No?
(Pause. )
Do you not feel well?
HAMM (wearily):
Quiet, quiet, you're keeping me awake.
(Pause. )
Talk softer.
(Pause. )
If I could sleep I might make love. I'd go into the woods. My eyes would see. . . the sky, the earth. I'd run, run, they wouldn't catch me.
(Pause. )
Nature!
(Pause. )
There's something dripping in my head.
(Pause. )
A heart, a heart in my head.
(Pause. )
NAGG:
Do you hear him? A heart in his head!
(He chuckles cautiously. )
NELL:
One mustn't laugh at those things, Nagg. Why must you always laugh at them?
NAGG:
Not so loud!
NELL (without lowering her voice):
Nothing is funnier than unhappiness, I grant you that. But---
NAGG (shocked):
Oh!
NELL:
Yes, yes, it's the most comical thing in the world. And we laugh, we laugh, with a will, in the beginning. But it's always the same thing. Yes, it's like the funny story we have heard too often, we still find it funny, but we don't laugh any more.
(Pause. )
Have you anything else to say to me?
NAGG:
No.
NELL:
Are you quite sure?
(Pause. )
Then I'll leave you.
NAGG:
Do you not want your biscuit?
(Pause. )
I'll keep it for you.
(Pause. )
I thought you were going to leave me.
NELL:
I am going to leave you.
NAGG:
Could you give me a scratch before you go?
NELL:
No.
(Pause. )
Where?
NAGG:
In the back.
NELL:
No.
(Pause. )
Rub yourself against the rim.
NAGG:
It's lower down. In the hollow. NELL:
What hollow?
NAGG:
The hollow!
(Pause. )
Could you not?
(Pause. )
Yesterday you scratched me there. NELL (elegiac):
Ah yesterday.
NAGG:
Could you not?
(Pause. )
Would you like me to scratch you? (Pause. )
Are you crying again?
NELL:
I was trying.
(Pause. )
HAMM:
Perhaps it's a little vein.
(Pause. )
NAGG:
What was that he said?
NELL:
Perhaps it's a little vein.
NAGG:
What does that mean?
(Pause. )
That means nothing.
(Pause. )
Shall I tell you the story of the tailor? NELL:
No.
(Pause. )
What for?
NAGG:
To cheer you up.
NELL:
It's not funny.
NAGG:
It always made you laugh.
(Pause. )
The first time I thought you'd die. NELL:
It was on Lake Como.
(Pause. )
One April afternoon.
(Pause. )
Can you believe it? NAGG:
What?
NELL:
That we once went out rowing on Lake Como.
(Pause. )
One April afternoon.
NAGG:
We had got engaged the day before.
NELL:
Engaged!
NAGG:
You were in such fits that we capsized. By rights we should have been drowned.
NELL:
It was because I felt happy.
NAGG (indignant):
It was not, it was not, it was my STORY and nothing else. Happy! Don't you laugh at it still? Every time I tell it. Happy!
NELL:
It was deep, deep. And you could see down to the bottom. So white. So clean.
NAGG:
Let me tell it again.
(Raconteur's voice. )
An Englishman, needing a pair of striped trousers in a hurry for the New Year festivities, goes to his tailor who takes his measurements.
(Tailor's voice. )
"That's the lot, come back in four days, I'll have it ready. " Good. Four days later.
(Tailor's voice. )
"So sorry, come back in a week, I've made a mess of the seat. " Good, that's all right, a neat seat can be very ticklish. A week later.
(Tailor's voice. )
"Frightfully sorry, come back in ten days, I've made a hash of the crotch. " Good, can't be helped, a snug crotch is always a teaser. Ten days later.
(Tailor's voice. )
"Dreadfully sorry, come back in a fortnight, I've made a balls of the fly. " Good, at a pinch, a smart fly is a stiff proposition.
(Pause. Normal voice. )
I never told it worse.
(Pause. Gloomy. )
I tell this story worse and worse.
(Pause. Raconteur's voice. )
Well, to make it short, the bluebells are blowing and he ballockses the buttonholes. (Customer's voice. )
"God damn you to hell, Sir, no, it's indecent, there are limits! In six days, do you hear me, six days, God made the world. Yes Sir, no less Sir, the WORLD! And you are not bloody well capable of making me a pair of trousers in three months! "
(Tailor's voice, scandalized. )
"But my dear Sir, my dear Sir, look---
(disdainful gesture, disgustedly)
---at the world---
(Pause. )
and look---
(loving gesture, proudly)
---at my TROUSERS! "
(Pause. He looks at Nell who has remained impassive, her eyes unseeing. He breaks into a high forced laugh, cuts it short, pokes his head towards Nell, launches his laugh again. ) HAMM:
Silence!
(Nagg starts, cuts short his laugh. )
NELL:
You could see down to the bottom.
HAMM (exasperated):
Have you not finished? Will you never finish?
(With sudden fury. )
Will this never finish?
(Nagg disappears into his bin, closes the lid behind him. Nell does not move. Frenziedly.
) My kingdom for a nightman!
(He whistles. Enter Clov. )
Clear away this muck! Chuck it in the sea!
(Clov goes to bins, halts. )
NELL:
So white.
HAMM:
What? What's she blathering about?
(Clov stoops, takes Nell's hand, feels her pulse. )
NELL (to Clov):
Desert!
(Clov lets go her hand, pushes her back in the bin, closes the lid. )
CLOV (returning to his place beside the chair):
She has no pulse.
HAMM:
What was she drivelling about?
CLOV:
She told me to go away, into the desert.
HAMM:
Damn busybody! Is that all?
CLOV:
No.
HAMM:
What else?
CLOV:
I didn't understand. HAMM:
Have you bottled her? CLOV:
Yes.
HAMM:
Are they both bottled?
CLOV:
Yes.
HAMM:
Screw down the lids.
(Clov goes towards door. )
Time enough.
(Clov halts. )
My anger subsides, I'd like to pee.
CLOV (with alacrity):
I'll go get the catheter.
(He goes towards door. )
HAMM:
Time enough.
(Clov halts. )
Give me my pain killer.
CLOV:
It's too soon.
(Pause. )
It's too soon on top of your tonic, it wouldn't act.
HAMM:
In the morning they brace you up and in the evening they calm you down. Unless it's the other way round.
(Pause. )
That old doctor, he's dead naturally?
CLOV:
He wasn't old.
HAMM:
But he's dead?
CLOV:
Naturally.
(Pause. )
You ask me that?
(Pause. )
HAMM:
Take me for a little turn.
(Clov goes behind the chair and pushes it forward. )
Not too fast!
(Clov pushes chair. )
Right round the world!
(Clov pushes chair. )
Hug the walls, then back to the center again.
(Clov pushes chair. )
I was right in the center, wasn't I? CLOV (pushing):
Yes.
HAMM:
We'd need a proper wheel-chair. With big wheels. Bicycle wheels!
(Pause. )
Are you hugging?
CLOV (pushing):
Yes.
HAMM (groping for wall):
It's a lie! Why do you lie to me? CLOV (bearing closer to wall): There! There!
HAMM:
Stop!
(Clov stops chair close to back wall. Hamm lays his hand against wall. ) Old wall!
(Pause. )
Beyond is the. . . other hell.
(Pause. Violently. )
Closer! Closer! Up against!
CLOV:
Take away your hand.
(Hamm withdraws his hand. Clov rams chair against wall. )
There!
(Hamm leans towards wall, applies his ear to it. )
HAMM:
Do you hear?
(He strikes the wall with his knuckles. )
Do you hear? Hollow bricks!
(He strikes again. )
All that's hollow!
(Pause. He straightens up. Violently. )
That's enough. Back!
CLOV:
We haven't done the round.
HAMM:
Back to my place!
(Clov pushes chair back to center. )
Is that my place?
CLOV:
Yes, that's your place.
HAMM:
Am I right in the center?
CLOV:
I'll measure it.
HAMM:
More or less! More or less!
CLOV (moving chair slightly):
There!
HAMM:
I'm more or less in the center?
CLOV:
I'd say so.
HAMM:
You'd say so! Put me right in the center! CLOV:
I'll go and get the tape.
HAMM:
Roughly! Roughly!
(Clov moves chair slightly. )
Bang in the center!
CLOV:
There!
(Pause. )
HAMM:
I feel a little too far to the left.
(Clov moves chair slightly. )
Now I feel a little too far to the right.
(Clov moves chair slightly. )
I feel a little too far forward.
(Clov moves chair slightly. )
Now I feel a little too far back.
(Clov moves chair slightly. )
Don't stay there.
(i. e. behind the chair)
you give me the shivers.
(Clov returns to his place beside the chair. ) CLOV:
If I could kill him I'd die happy.
(Pause. )
HAMM:
What's the weather like?
CLOV:
As usual.
HAMM:
Look at the earth.
CLOV:
I've looked.
HAMM:
With the glass?
CLOV:
No need of the glass.
HAMM:
Look at it with the glass.
CLOV:
I'll go and get the glass.
(Exit Clov. )
HAMM:
No need of the glass!
(Enter Clov with telescope. )
CLOV:
I'm back again, with the glass.
(He goes to window right, looks up at it. )
I need the steps.
HAMM:
Why? Have you shrunk?
(Exit Clov with telescope. )
I don't like that, I don't like that.
(Enter Clov with ladder, but without telescope. )
CLOV:
I'm back again, with the steps.
(He sets down ladder under window right, gets up on it, realizes he has not the telescope, gets down. )
I need the glass.
(He goes towards door. )
HAMM (violently):
But you have the glass!
CLOV (halting, violently):
No, I haven't the glass!
(Exit Clov. )
HAMM:
This is deadly.
(Enter Clov with the telescope. He goes towards ladder. )
CLOV:
Things are livening up.
(He gets up on ladder, raises the telescope, lets it fall. )
I did it on purpose.
(He gets down, picks up the telescope, turns it on auditorium. )
I see. . . a multitude. . . in transports. . . of joy.
(Pause. He lowers telescope, looks at it. )
That's what I call a magnifier.
(He turns toward Hamm. )
Well? Don't we laugh?
HAMM (after reflection):
I don't.
CLOV (after reflection):
Nor I.
(He gets up on ladder, turns the telescope on the without. )
Let's see.
(He looks, moving the telescope. )
Zero. . .
(he looks)
. . . zero. . .
(he looks)
. . . and zero.
HAMM:
Nothing stirs.