POZZO
(He jerks the rope.) Up pig! (Pause.) Every time he drops he falls asleep. (Jerks the rope.) Up hog! (Noise of Lucky getting up and picking up his baggage. Pozzo jerks the rope.) Back! (Enter Lucky backwards.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) Turn! (Lucky turns. To Vladimir and Estragon, affably.) Gentlemen, I am happy to have met you. (Before their incredulous expression.) Yes yes, sincerely happy. (He jerks the rope.) Closer! (Lucky advances.) Stop! (Lucky stops.) […] (Pozzo finishes buttoning up his coat, stoops, inspects himself, straightens up.) Whip! (Lucky advances, stoops, Pozzo snatches the whip from his mouth, Lucky goes back to his place.) Yes, gentlemen, I cannot go for long without the society of my likes (he puts on his glasses and looks at the two likes) even when the likeness is an imperfect one. (He takes off his glasses.) Stool! (Lucky puts down bag and basket, advances, opens stool, puts it down, goes back to his place, takes up bag and basket.) (1.336)
Notice the same sort of conflict here; Pozzo alternates between treating Lucky as scum and declaring that he cannot be without others for company. He is obsessed with what he considers his superiority, but he can’t deal with the loneliness and isolation that superiority brings.
POZZO
Good. Is everybody ready? Is everybody looking at me? (He looks at Lucky, jerks the rope. Lucky raises his head.) Will you look at me, pig! (Lucky looks at him.) Good. (He puts the pipe in his pocket, takes out a little vaporizer and sprays his throat, puts back the vaporizer in his pocket, clears his throat, spits, takes out the vaporizer again, sprays his throat again, puts back the vaporizer in his pocket.) I am ready. Is everybody listening? Is everybody ready? (He looks at them all in turn, jerks the rope.) Hog! (Lucky raises his head.) I don't like talking in a vacuum. Good. Let me see.
He reflects. (1.426)
Pozzo is arguably the loneliest character in Waiting for Godot. While he makes a big show out of interacting with others and praising the benefits of human connection, he is always focused on himself, not on others. When he says "I don’t like talking in a vacuum," it’s clear that his concern is with his own ego, not in whether others hear or benefit from what he is saying.
POZZO
I do. But instead of driving him away as I might have done, I mean instead of simply kicking him out on his arse, in the goodness of my heart I am bringing him to the fair, where I hope to get a good price for him. The truth is you can't drive such creatures away. The best thing would be to kill them.
Lucky weeps. (1.450)
This brings us back to the earlier exchange in which Vladimir and Estragon debate killing themselves. It became clear then that isolation was a worse fate than death, and Pozzo reiterates that here. Lucky’s response—weeping—is unclear. Does he weep at the thought of being driven away? Or of being killed? Or is he simply distraught that Pozzo no longer wants his company?
POZZO
Make haste, before he stops. (Estragon approaches Lucky and makes to wipe his eyes. Lucky kicks him violently in the shins. Estragon drops the handkerchief, recoils, staggers about the stage howling with pain.) (1.454)
This is a perfect example of the way isolation works in Waiting for Godot. One man makes an attempt to connect to another, and the second man violently pushes him away.
Enter Pozzo and Lucky. Pozzo drives Lucky by means of a rope passed round his neck, so that Lucky is the first to enter, followed by the rope which is long enough to let him reach the middle of the stage before Pozzo appears. Lucky carries a heavy bag, a folding stool, a picnic basket and a greatcoat, Pozzo a whip.
POZZO
(off). On! (Crack of whip. Pozzo appears. They cross the stage. Lucky passes before Vladimir and Estragon and exit. Pozzo at the sight of Vladimir and Estragon stops short. The rope tautens. Pozzo jerks at it violently.) Back! (1.290)
From the moment they enter the stage, Pozzo and Lucky fulfill the roles of master and servant.
POZZO
Ah! Why couldn't you say so before? Why he doesn't make himself comfortable? Let's try and get this clear. Has he not the right to? Certainly he has. It follows that he doesn't want to. There's reasoning for you. (1.432)
This is arguably the most explicit statement of classic existentialist reasoning in Waiting for Godot. There is no such thing as slavery or confinement, Pozzo argues here, since every action one performs is a matter of choice. If Lucky doesn’t put the bags down, it is because he chooses not to, not because he isn’t allowed.
POZZO
I do. But instead of driving him away as I might have done, I mean instead of simply kicking him out on his arse, in the goodness of my heart I am bringing him to the fair, where I hope to get a good price for him. The truth is you can't drive such creatures away. The best thing would be to kill them. (1.495)
Pozzo believes he is doing Lucky a service by enslaving him; and, in one sense, he is. This could be the reason that Lucky is considered lucky—someone is around to tell him what to do. Left to his own devices, he may be as helpless and miserable as Vladimir and Estragon.
POZZO
He used to dance the farandole, the fling, the brawl, the jig, the fandango and even the hornpipe. He capered. For joy. Now that's the best he can do. Do you know what he calls it?
ESTRAGON
The Scapegoat's Agony.
VLADIMIR
The Hard Stool.
POZZO
The Net. He thinks he's entangled in a net. (1.589-92)
We can take Pozzo’s statement about the net and apply it to all the characters in Waiting for Godot. Check out "Symbolism, Imagery, and Allegory."
Quote 29
POZZO
(Lyrically) The tears of the world are a constant quantity. […] (He laughs.) Let us not then speak ill of our generation, it is not any unhappier than its predecessors. (Pause.) (1.461)
Pozzo would try to ignore suffering because it has always existed. Unfortunately, this sort of rationale leads to men like Pozzo treating men like Lucky the way that, well, the way that Pozzo treats Lucky.
Quote 30
POZZO
(groaning, clutching his head). I can't bear it . . . any longer . . . the way he goes on . . . you've no idea . . . it's terrible . . . he must go . . . (he waves his arms) . . . I'm going mad . . . (he collapses, his head in his hands) . . . I can't bear it . . . any longer . . . (1.471)
Pozzo’s character makes the case that suffering is self-imposed. He is upset by Lucky’s predicament, a situation of his own making.
Quote 31
POZZO
He used to dance the farandole, the fling, the brawl, the jig, the fandango and even the hornpipe. He capered. For joy. Now that's the best he can do. Do you know what he calls it?
ESTRAGON
The Scapegoat's Agony.
VLADIMIR
The Hard Stool.
POZZO
The Net. He thinks he's entangled in a net. (1.589-92)
Note that Lucky only thinks himself entangled in a net; this is another piece of evidence for the argument that suffering is self-imposed.
Quote 32
POZZO
I do. But instead of driving him away as I might have done, I mean instead of simply kicking him out on his arse, in the goodness of my heart I am bringing him to the fair, where I hope to get a good price for him. The truth is you can't drive such creatures away. The best thing would be to kill them.
Lucky weeps. (1.450)
No characters in Waiting for Godot are able to take death seriously.
POZZO
Give me that! (He snatches the hat from Vladimir, throws it on the ground, tramples on it.) There's an end to his thinking!
VLADIMIR
But will he be able to walk?
POZZO
Walk or crawl! (He kicks Lucky.) Up pig!
ESTRAGON
Perhaps he's dead. (1.642-5)
See what we mean?
POZZO
Why doesn't he answer when I call?
VLADIMIR
I don't know. He seems to be sleeping. Perhaps he's dead.
[…]
VLADIMIR
Make sure he's alive before you start. No point in exerting yourself if he's dead. (2.715-35)
Vladimir is unable to take death seriously, leading us to believe that his earlier humanistic concern for Lucky’s welfare was just his impression of what he thought a person would do.
Quote 35
POZZO
(suddenly furious) Have you not done tormenting me with your accursed time! It's abominable! When! When! One day, is that not enough for you, one day he went dumb, one day I went blind, one day we'll go deaf, one day we were born, one day we shall die, the same day, the same second, is that not enough for you? (Calmer.) They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more. (He jerks the rope.) On! (2.773)
Pozzo’s view of death seems disturbingly extreme, but he’s actually not telling us anything we don’t know. Death, he says, is inevitable. When a person is born, he begins his fall toward the grave. The only difference between his statement and what is perhaps a more common view of death is the amount of time that passes between birth and death. In our case, a lifetime, in this image, the moment it takes to drop into the ground. However, Waiting for Godot has already shown us that time is arbitrary (think about the conversation in Act 1 when Vladimir and Estragon try to determine what day it is). If this is true, the difference between an instant and a lifetime is simply a matter of perspective.