[1626] was free to rest or whether it had to work?
[1627] I think not.
[1628] For the
suffering of the leg at rest was constant and monotonour [place = overwritten] s.
[1629] Whereas
the leg condemned to the increase of pain inflicted by work knew the
decrease of pain bestowed [place = supralinear] [⁁]dispensed by work suspended, the space of an instant.
[1630] But I am human, I think [place = supralinear] [⁁]fancy, and my progress suffered, from this state of
things [place = supralinear] affairs, [place = supralinear] [⁁]affairs, and from the slow and painful progress it had always been,
whatever may have been said to the contrary, was changed, saving your
presence, to a veritable calvary, without [place = supralinear] [⁁]with no limit to its stations nor [place = supralinear] [⁁]and no
hope of crucifixion, though I say it myself, and no Simon, and reduced
me to frequent halts.
[1631] Yes, my progress reduced me to stopping more and
more often, it was the only way to progress, to stop.
[1632] And though it is
no part of my tottering intentions to treat [place = supralinear] [⁁]here in full, as they deserve,
these brief i [place = overwritten] moments of the immemorial expiation, I shall nevertheless
deal with them briefly, out of the goodness of my heart, so that my
story, so clear till now, may not end in darkness, the darkness of
these towering forests, these giant leaves [place = supralinear] [⁁]fronds, where I H [place = overwritten] h [place = supralinear] [⁁]hobble, listen,
[1632] fall, rise, listen and hobble on, wondering sometimes, need I say, if
I shall ever see again the hated light, at least unloved, stretched
palely between the last boles, and my mother, to settle matters [place = supralinear] [⁁]with her, and
if I would not do better, at least just as well, to hang myself from
a bough, with a liane.
[1633] For frankly light meant nothing to me now, and
my mother w [place = overwritten] could scarcely be waiting for me still, after so long.
[1634] And
my leg, my legs.
[1635] But the thought of suicide had little hold on me,
I don't know why, I thought I did, but I see I don't.
[1636] The idea of
strangulation in particular, however tempting, I always overcame, after
a short struggle.
[1637] And between you and me, [place = margin right] [₰]there was never anything
wrong with my respiratory tracts, aa [place = overwritten] part of course from the agonies [place = supralinear] afflictions
inseperable from the [place = supralinear] that [place = supralinear] [⁁]intrinsic to that system.
[1638] Yes, I could count the days, [place = margin right] [₰] when I
could not [place = supralinear] [⁁]neither breathe in the [place = supralinear] blessed air with its vaunted [place = supralinear] [⁁]life-giving oxygen, [place = margin right] [₰] nor, when I
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Molloy © 2016 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Magessa O'Reilly, Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt