Samuel Beckett
Krapp's Last Tape
A late evening in the future.
Krapp's den.
Front centre a small table, the two drawers of which open towards
audience.
Sitting at the table, facing front, i.e. across from the drawers, a wearish old
man: Krapp
Rusty black narrow trousers too short for him. Rust black sleevless
waistcoat, four capaciou pockets. Heavy silver watch and chain. Grimy
white shirt open at neck, no collar. Surprising pair of dirty white boots, size
ten at least, very narrow and pointed.
White face. Purple nose. Disordered grey hair. Unshaven.
very near-sighted (but unspectacled). Hard of hearing.
Cracked voice. Distinctive intonation.
Laborious walk.
On the table a tape-recorder with microphone and a number of cardboard
boxes containing reels of recorded tapes.
table and immediately adjacent area in strong white light. Rest of stage in
darkness.
Krapp remains a moment motionless, heaves a great sigh, looks at his watch,
fumbles in his pockets, takes out an evelope, puts it back, fumbles, takes out
a small bunch of keys, raises it to his eyes, chooses a key, gets up and moves
to front of table. He stoops, unlocks first drawer, peers into it, feels about
inside it, takes out a reel of tape, peers at it, puts it back, locks drawer,
unlocks second drawer peers into it, feels about inside it, takes out a large
banana, peers at it, locks drawer, puts keys back in his pocket. He turns,
advances to edge of stage, halts, strokes banana, peels it, drops skin at his
feet, puts end of banana in his mouth and remains motionless, staring
vacuously before him. Finally he bites off the end, turns aside and begins
pacing to and fro at edge of stage, in the light, i.e. not more than four or five
paces either way, meditatively eating banana. He treads on skin, slips,
nearly falls, recovers himself, stoops and peers at skin and finally pushes it,
still stooping, with his foot over the edge of the stage into pit. He resumes
his pacing, finishes banana, returns to table, sits down, remains a moment
motionless, heaves a great sigh, takes keys from his pockets, raises them to
his eyes, chooses key, gets up and moves to front of table, unlocks second
drawer, takes out a second large banana, peers at it, locks drawer, puts
back his keys in his pocket, turns, advances to the edge of stage, halts,
strokes banana, peels it, tosses skin into pit, puts an end of banana in his
mouth and remains motionless, staring vacuously before him. Finally he has
an idea, puts banana in his waistcoat pocket, the end emerging, and goes
with all the speed he can muster backstage into darkness. Ten seconds. Loud
pop of cork. Fifteen seconds. He comes back into light carrying an old
ledger and sits down at table. He lays ledger on table, wipes his mouth,
wipes his hands on the front of his waistcoat, brings them smartly together
and rubs them.
KRAPP
(briskly). Ah! (He bends over ledger, turns the pages, finds the entry he
wants, reads.) Box . . . thrree . . . spool . . . five. (he raises his head and
stares front. With relish.) Spool! (pause.) Spooool! (happy smile. Pause. He
bends over table, starts peering and poking at the boxes.) Box . . . thrree . . .
three . . . four . . . two . . . (with surprise) nine! good God! . . . seven . . . ah!
the little rascal! (He takes up the box, peers at it.) Box thrree. (He lays it on
table, opens it and peers at spools inside.) Spool . . . (he peers at the
ledger) . . . five . . . (he peers at spools) . . . five . . . five . . . ah! the little
scoundrel! (He takes out a spool, peers at it.) Spool five. (He lays it on table,
closes box three, puts it back with the others, takes up the spool.) Box three,
spool five. (He bends over the machine, looks up. With
relish.) Spooool! (happy smile. He bends, loads spool on machine, rubs his
hands.) Ah! (He peers at ledger, reads entry at foot of page.) Mother at rest
at last . . . Hm . . . The black ball . . . (He raises his head, stares blankly
front. Puzzled.) Black ball? . . . (He peers again at ledger, reads.) The dark
nurse . . . (He raises his head, broods, peers again at ledger, reads.) Slight
improvement in bowel condition . . . Hm . . . Memorable . . . what? (He
peers closer.) Equinox, memorable equinox. (He raises his head, stares
blankly front. Puzzled.) Memorable equinox? . . . (Pause. He shrugs his
head shoulders, peers again at ledger, reads.) Farewell to--(he turns the
page)--love.
He raises his head, broods, bends over machine, switches on and assumes
listening posture, i.e. leaning foreward, elbows on table, hand cupping ear
towards machine, face front.
TAPE
(strong voice, rather pompous, clearly Krapp's at a much earlier time.)
Thirty-nine today, sound as a--(Settling himself more comfortable he knocks
one of the boxes off the table, curses, switches off, sweeps boxes and ledger
violently to the ground, winds tape back to the beginning, switches on,
resumes posture.) Thirty-nine today, sound as a bell, apart from my old
weakness, and intellectually I have niw every reason to suspect at the . . .
(hesitates) . . . crest of the wave--or thereabouts. Celebrated the awful
occasion, as in recent years, quietly at the winehouse. Not a soul. Sat before
the fire with closed eyes, separation the grain from the husks. jotted down a
few notes, on the back on an envelope. Good to be back in my den in my old
rags. Have just eaten I regret to say three bananas and only with difficulty
restrained a fourth. Fatal things for a man with my condition. (Vehemently.)
Cut 'em out! (pause.) The new light above my table is a great improvement.
With all this darkness around me I feel less alone. (Pause.) In a way.
(Pause.) I love to get up and move about in it, then back here to . . .
(hesitates) . . . me. (pause.) Krapp.
Pause.
The grain, now what I wonder do I mean by that, I mean . . . (hesitates) . . . I
suppose I mean those things worth having when all the dust has--when
all mydust has settled. I close my eyes and try and imagine them.
Pause. Jrapp closes his eyes briefly.
Extraordinary silence this evening, I strain my ears and do not hear a sound.
Old Miss McGlome always sings at this hour. But not tonight. Songs of her
girlhood, she says. Hard to think of her as a girl. Wonderful woman, though.
Connaught, I fancy. (Pause.) Shall I sing when I am her age, if I ever am?
No. (Pause.) Did I sing as a boy? No. (Pause.) Did I ever sing? No.
Pause.
Just been listening to an old year, passaages at random. I did not check in
the book, but it must be at least tne or twelve years ago. At that time I think
I was still living on and off with Bianca in Kedar Street. Well out of that,
Jesus yes! Hopeless business. (Pause.) Not much about her, apart from a
tribute to her eyes. Very warm. I suddenly was them again. (Pause.)
Incomparable! (Pause.) Ah well . . . (Pause.) These old P.M.s are gruesome,
but I often find them--(Krapp switches off, broods, switches on)--a help
before embarking on a new . . . (hestitates) . . . retrospect. Hard to believe I
was ever that young whelp. The voice! Jesus! And the aspirations! (Brief
laugh in which Krapp joins.) And the resolutions! (Brief laugh in which
Krapp joins.) To drink less, in particular. (Brief laugh of Krapp alone.)
Statistics. Seventeen hundred hours, out of the preceding eight thousand odd,
consumed on licensed premises alone. More than 20%, say 40% of his
waking life. (Pause.) Plans for a less . . . (hesitates) . . . engrossing sexual
life. Last illness of his father. Flagging pursuit of happiness. Unattainable
laxation. Sneers at what he calls his youth and thanks to God that it's over.
(Pause.) False ring there. (Pause.) Shadows of the opus . . . magnum.
Closing with a --(brief laugh)--yelp to Providence. (Prolonged laugh in
which Krapp joins.) What remains of all that misery? A girl in a shabby
green coat, on a railway-station platform? No?
Pause.
When I look--
Krapp switches off, broods, looks at his watch, gets up, goes backstage into
darkness. Ten seconds. pop of cork. Ten seconds. Second cork. Ten seconds.
Third cork. Ten seconds. Brief burst of quavering song.
KRAPP
(sings).
Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh-igh,
Shadows--
Fit of coughing. He comes back into light, sits down, wipes his mouth,
switches on, resumes his listening posture.
TAPE
--Back on the year that is gone, with what I hope is perhaps a glint of the old
eye to come, there is of course the house on the canal where mother lay
a-dying, in the late autumn, after her long viduity (Krapp gives a start), and
the--(Krapp switches off, winds back tape a little, bends his ear closer to the
machine, switches on)--a-dying, after her long viduity, and the--
Krapp switches off, raises his head, stares blankly before him. His lips move
in the syllables of "viduity." No sound. He gets up, goes back stage into
darkness, comes back with an enormous dictionary, lays it on table, sits
down and looks up the word.
KRAPP
(reading from dictionary). State--or condition of being--or remaining--a
widow--or widower. (Looks up. Puzzled.) Being--or remaining? . . . (Pause.
He peers again at dictionary. Reading.) "Deep weeds of viduity" . . . Also of
an animal, especially a bird . . . the vidua or weaver bird . . . Black plumage
of male . . . (He looks up. With relish.) The vidua0bird!
Pause. He closes dictionary, switches on, reusmes listening posture.
TAPE
--bench by the weir from where I could see her window. There I sat, in the
biting wind, wishing she were gone. (Pause.) Hardly a soul, just a few
regulars, nursemaids, infants, old men, dogs. I got to know them quite
well--oh by appearance of course I mean! One dark young beauty I recall
particularly, all white and starch, incomparable bosom, with a big black
hooded perambulator, most funereal thing. Whenever I looked in her
direction she had her eyes on me. And yet when I was bold enough to speak
to her--not having been introduced--she threatened to call a policeman. As if
I had designs on her virtue! (Laugh. Pause.) The face she had! The eyes!
Like . . . (hesitates) . . . chrysolite! (Pause.) Ah well . . . (Pause.) I was there
when--(Krapp switches off, broods, switches on again)--the blind went
down, one of those dirty brown roller affairs, throwing a ball for a little
white dog, as chance would have it. I happened to look up and there it was.
All over and done with, at last. I sat on for a few moments with the ball in
my hand and the dog yelping and pawing at me. (Pause.) Moments. Her
moments, my moments. (Pause.) The dog's moments. (Pause.) In the end I
held it out to him and he took it in his mouth, gently, gently. A small, old,
black, hard, solid rubber ball. (Pause.) I shall feel it, in my hand, until my
dying day. (Pause.) I might have kept it. (Pause.) But I gave it to the dog.
Pause.
Ah well . . .
Pause.
Spiritually a year of profound gloom and indulgence until that memorable
night in March at the end of the jetty, in the howling wind, never to be
forgotten, when suddenly I saw the whole thing. The vision, at last. This
fancy is what I have cheifly to record this evening, againt the day when my
work will be done and perhaps no place left in my memory, warm or cold,
for the miracle that . . . (hesitates) . . . for the fire that set it alight. What I
suddenly saw then was this, that the beleif I had been going on all my life,
namely--(Krapp switches off impatiently, winds tape foreward, switches on
again)--great granite rocks the foam flying up in the light of the lighhouse
and thw wind-gauge spinning like a propellor, clear to me at last that the
dark I have always struggled to keep under is in reality--(Krapp curses,
switches off, winds tape foreward, switches on again)--unshatterable
association until my dissolution of storm and night with the light of the
understanding and the fire--(Krapp curses loader, switches off, winds tape
foreward, switches on again)--my face in her breasts and my hand on her.
We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and moved us, gently,
up and down, and from side to side.
Pause.
Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited.
Pause.
Here I end--
Krapp switches off, winds tabe back, switches on again.
--upper lake, with the punt, bathed off the bank, then pushed out into the
stream and drifted. She lay streched out on the floorboards with her hands
under her head and her eyes closed. Sun blazing down, bit of a breeze, water
nice and lively. I noticed a scratch on her thigh and asked her how she came
by it. Picking gooseberries, she said. I said again I thought it was hopeless
and no good going on, and she agreed, without opening her eyes. (Pause.) I
asked her to look at me and after a few moments--(pause)--after a few
moments she did, but the eyes just slits, because of the glare. I bent over her
to get them in the shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low.) Let me in.
(Pause.) We drifted in among the flags and stuck. The way they went down,
sighing, before the stem! (Pause.) I lay down across her with my face in her
breasts and my hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all
moved, and moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side.
Pause.
Past midnight. Never knew--
Krapp switches off, broods. Finally he fumbles in his pockets, encounters
the banana, takes it out, peers at it, puts it back, fumbles, brings out the
envelope, fumbles, puts back envelope, looks at his watch, gets up and goes
backstage into darkness. Ten seconds. Sound of bottle against glass, then
brief siphon. Ten seconds. Bottle against glass alone. Ten seconds. He
comes back a little unsteadily into light, goes to the front of table, takes out
keys, raises them to his eyes, chooses key, unlocks first drawer, peers into it,
feels about inside it, takes out reel, peers at it, locks drawer, puts keys back
in his pocket, goes and sits down, takes reel off machine, lays it on
dictionary, loads virgin reel on machine, takes envelope from his pocket,
consults back of it, lays it on table, switches on, clears his throat and begins
to record.
KRAPP
Just been listening to that stupid bastard I took myself for thirty years ago,
hard to beleive I was ever as bad as that. Thank God that's all done with
anyway. (Pause.) The eyes she had! (Broods, realizes he is recording
silence, switches off, broods. Finally.) Everything there, everything, all
the--(Realizing this is not being recorded, switches on.) Everything there,
everything on this old muckball, all the light and dark and famine and
feasting of . . . (hesitates) . . . the ages! (In a shout.) Yes! (Pause.) Let that
go! Jesus! Take his mind off his homework! Jesus (Pause. Weary.) Ah well,
maybe he was right. (Broods. Realizes. Switches off. Consults envelope.)
Pah! (Crumples it and throws it away. Broods. Switches on.) Nothing to say,
not a squeak. What's a year now? The sour cud and the iron stool. (Pause.)
Revelled in the word spool. (With relish.) Spooool! Happiest moment of the
past half million. (Pause.) Seventeen copies sold, of which eleven at trade
price to free circulating libraries beyond the seas. Getting known. (Pause.)
One pound six and something, eight I have little doubt. (Pause.) Crawled
out once or twice, before the summer was cold. Sat shivering in the park,
drowned in dreams and burning to be gone. Not a soul. (Pause.) Last fancies.
(Vehemently.) Keep 'em under! (Pause.) Scalded the eyes out of me
reading Effir again, a page a day, with tears again. Effie . . . (Pause.) Could
have been happy with her, up there on the Baltic, and the pines, and the
dunes. (Pause.) Could I? (Pause.) And she? (Pause.) Pah! (Pause.) Fanny
came in a couple of times. Bony old ghost of a whore. Couldn't do much,
but I suppose better than a kick in the crutch. The last time wasn't so bad.
How do you manage it, she said, at your age? I told her I'd been saving up
for her all my life. (Pause.) Went to Vespers once, like when I as in short
trousers. (Pause. Sings.))
Now the day is over,
Night is drawing nigh-igh,
Shadows--(coughing, then almost inaudible)--of the evening
Steal across the sky.
(Gasping.) Went to sleep and fell off the pew. (Pause.) Sometimes
wondered in the night if a last effort mightn't--(Pause.) Ah finish yout booze
now and get to your bed. Go on with this drivel in the morning. Or leave it
at that. (Pause.) Leave it at that. (Pause.) Lie propped up in the dark--and
wander. Be again in the dingle on a Christmas Eve, gathering holly, the
red-berried. (Pause.) Be again on Croghan on a Sunday morning, in the haze,
with the bitch, stop and listen to the bells. (Pause.) And so on. (Pause.) Be
again, be again. (Pause.) All that old misery. (Pause.) Once wasn't enough
for you. (Pause.) Lie down across her.
Long pause. He suddenly bends over machine, switches off, wrenches off
tape, throws it away, puts on the other, winds it foreward to the passage he
wants, switches on, listens staring front.
TAPE
--gooseberries, she said. I said again I thought it was hopeless and no good
going on, and she agreed, without opening her eyes. (Pause.) I asked her to
look at me and after a few moments--(pause)--after a few moments she did,
but the eyes just slits, because of the glare. I bent over her to get them in the
shadow and they opened. (Pause. Low.) Let me in. (Pause.) We drifted in
among the flags and stuck. The way they went down, sighing, before the
stem! (Pause.) I lay down across her with my face in her breasts and my
hand on her. We lay there without moving. But under us all moved, and
moved us, gently, up and down, and from side to side.
Pause. Krapp's lips move. No sound.
Past midnight. Never knew such silence. The earth might be uninhabited.
Pause.
Here I end this reel. Box--(pause)--three, spool--(pause)--five.
(Pause. Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of
happiness. But I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No,
I wouldn't want them back.
Krapp motionless staring before him. The tape runs on in silence.
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