Digital Manuscript ProjectMalone meurt / Malone Dies

[1846] for a time an old yellow hand. But these were probably no more than
the agents of a consortium.
[1847] And indee [place = margin left] d the silence at times is cuh
such that the earth seems uninhabited.
[1848] That is what comes of the
taste for generalisation.
[1849] You have only to hear nothing for a few
days, in your hole, nothing but the sounds of things, and you begin
to fancy yourself the last of human kind.
[1850] What if I started to
scream?
[1851] Not that I wish to dra w draw attention to myself, simply
to try and find out if there is someone about.
[1852] But I don't like
screal [place = overwritten] ming.
[1853] I have spoken softly, gone my ways softly, all my days,
as behoves one who has nothing to say, nowhere to go, [1854] and so noth-
ing to gain by being seen or heard.
[1855] Not to mention the possibility
of their [place = margin left] re being not a living soul within a radius of one hundred
yards, and then such a [place = margin left] [₰] multitude [place = margin left] s of people that they are walking
on top of one another.
[1856] They do not dare come near me.
[1857] In that case
i [place = margin left] I could scream my head off to no purpose. [1858] I shall try all the same.
[1859] I have tried.
[1860] I heard nothing out of the ordinary.
[1861] No, I exaggerate
I heard a kind of burning croak deep down in the windpipe, as
when one has heartburn.
[1862] With practice I might produce a groan,
before I die.
[1864] I am not sleepy any more.
[1865] In any case I must not
sleep any more.
[1866] What tedium.
[1867] I have missed the ebb.
[1868] Did I say I
only say a small proportion of the things that come into my head?
[1869] I must have.
[1870] I choose those that seem somehow akin.
[1871] It is not al-
ways easy.
[1872] I hope they are the most important.
[1873] I wonder if I shall
ever be able to stop.
[1874] Perhaps I should throw away my lead.
[1875] I could
never retrieve it now.
[1876] I might be sorry.
[1877] My little lead.
[1878] It is a
risk I do not feel inclined to take, just now.
[1879] What then?
[1880] I wonder
if I could not contrive, wielding my stick like a punt-pole, to
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Malone meurt / Malone Dies © 2017 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt