Then all the dogs came running
And dug the dog a tomb—
[He stops, broods, resumes:]
Then all the dogs came running
And dug the dog a tomb
And wrote upon the tombstone
For the eyes of dogs to come
ESTRAGON: Do...I suppose we blathered.
VLADIMIR: [controlling himself]. About what?
ESTRAGON: Oh...this and that I suppose, nothing in particular. [With assurance.] Yes, now I remember, yesterday evening we spent blathering about nothing in particular. That's been going on now for half a century.
VLADIMIR: The other. [Estragon gives the same leg.] The other, pig! [Estragon gives the other leg. Triumphantly.] There's the wound! Beginning to fester!
VLADIMIR: [striking Pozzo]. Will you stop it! Crablouse! [Pozzo extricates himself with cries of pain and crawls away. He stops, saws the air blindly, calling for help. Vladimir, propped on his elbow, observes his retreat.]