
[4371] together, their heads sunk, jostling one another, breaking now and then
into a little trot, snatching blindly without stopping a last mouthful
from the earth, and last of all the dog, jauntily, waving his long black
plumy tail, though there was no one to witness his contentment, if that
is what it was. [4372] And so in perfect order, the shepherd silent and the dog
unneeded, the little flock departed.
[4373] And so no doubt they would plod on,
until they came to the stable or the fold.
[4374] And there the shepherd stands
aside to let them pass and he counts them as they go by, though he knows
not one is missing.
[4375] Then he turns towards his cottage, the kitchen door
is open, the lamp is burning, he goes in and sits down at the table,
without taking off his hat.
[4376] But the dog stops at the threshold, not
knowing whether he may go in or whether he must stay out, all night.
[4383] I must have got the better of it as I always did, thanks to my
infallible technique, and brought him unerringly to a proper sense of
his iniquities.
[4384] But the next day I realized my mistake.
[4385] For waking
early I found myself alone, in the shelter, I who was always the first
to wake.
[4386] And what is more my instinct told me I had been alone for some
considerable time, my breath no longer mingling with the breath of my
son, in the narrow shelter he had erected, under my supervision.
[4387] Not
that the fact of his having disappeared with the bicycle, during the
night or with the first guilty flush of dawn, was in itself a matter
for grave anxiety.
[4388] And I would have found excellent and honourable
reasons for this, if this had been all.
[4389] Unfortunately he had taken his
knapsack and his greatraincoat.
[4390] Andd there remained nothing in the shelter,
- Segments
Molloy © 2016 Samuel Beckett Digital Manuscript Project.
Editors: Magessa O'Reilly, Dirk Van Hulle, Pim Verhulst and Vincent Neyt