
[3587] which of my two knees I had rubbed in front of him, with iodex, the night
we left.
[3588] And I went to sleep again a little reassured, saying, It's a
touch of neuralgia brought on by all the tramping and trudging and the
chill damp nights, and promising myself to procure a packet of thermogenic[⁁]e
wool, with the pretty demon the on the outside, at the first opportunity.
[3589] Such is the rapidity of thought.
[3590] But there was more to come.
[3591] For waking
again towards dawn, this time in consequence of a natural need, and with
a mild erection, to make things more lifelike, I was unable to get up.
[3592] That is to say I did get up finally to be sure, I simply had to, but by
dint of what exertions!
[3593] Unable, unable, it's easy to talk about being
unable, whereas in reality nothing is more difficult.
[3594] Because of the will
I suppose, which the least opposition seems to lash into a fury.
[3595] And this
explains no doubt how it was I despaired at first of ever bednding my leg
again and then, a little later, through sheer determination, did succeed
in bending it, slightly.
[3596] The anchylosis was not total.
[3597] I am still talking
about my knee.
[3598] But was it the same one that had waked me early in the
night?
[3599] I w[⁁]could not have sworn it was.
[3600] It was not painful. [3601] It simply
refused to bend.
[3602] The pain, having warned me several times in vain, had no
more to say.
[3603] That is how I saw it.
[3604] It would have been impossible for me
to kneel, for example, for no matter how you kneel you must always bend
both knees, unless you adopt an attitude frankly grotevsque and impossible
to maintain for more than a few seconds, I mean with the bad leg stretched
out before you, like a Caucasian dancer.
[3605] I examined the bad knee in the
light of my torch.
[3606] It was neither red nor swollen.
[3607] I fiddled with the
knee-cap.
[3608] It felt like a clitoris.
[3609] All this time my son was puffing
like a grampus.
[3610] He had no suspicion of what life could do to you.
[3611] I too
was innocent.
[3612] But I knew it.
- Segments
Molloy © 2016 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Magessa O'Reilly, Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt