Corpse Flower: Were Vladimir And Estragon Waiting For Godot, Or It?

The Houston Museum of Natural Science's suddenly famous corpse flower has refused to bloom yet, no matter how furiously the museum twitters about it. We believe it was Friday or so when they started telling us "any minute now."

If you're among the people waiting anxiously online to smell the putrid stench the plant gives off in bloom, here are some surprisingly apt lines for you to peruse.

ESTRAGON: Charming spot. (He turns, advances to front, halts facing auditorium.) Inspiring prospects. (He turns to Vladimir.) Let's go.
VLADIMIR: We can't.
ESTRAGON: Why not?
VLADIMIR: We're waiting for Godot.
ESTRAGON: (despairingly). Ah! (Pause.) You're sure it was here?
ESTRAGON: That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR: He said by the tree. (They look at the tree.) Do you see any others?

ESTRAGON: What is it?
VLADIMIR: I don't know. A willow.
ESTRAGON: Where are the leaves?

It must be dead.
ESTRAGON: No more weeping.
VLADIMIR: Or perhaps it's not the season.
ESTRAGON: Looks to me more like a bush.
VLADIMIR: A shrub.
VLADIMIR: A--. What are you insinuating? That we've come to the wrong place?


He should be here.
VLADIMIR: He didn't say for sure he'd come.
ESTRAGON: And if he doesn't come?
VLADIMIR: We'll come back tomorrow.
ESTRAGON: And then the day after tomorrow.
VLADIMIR: Possibly.
ESTRAGON: And so on.
VLADIMIR: The point is--
ESTRAGON: Until he comes.
VLADIMIR: You're merciless.
ESTRAGON: We came here yesterday.
VLADIMIR: Ah no, there you're mistaken.
ESTRAGON: What did we do yesterday?
VLADIMIR: What did we do yesterday?
VLADIMIR: Why . . . (Angrily.) Nothing is certain when you're about.

In my opinion we were here.
VLADIMIR: (looking round). You recognize the place?
ESTRAGON: I didn't say that.
ESTRAGON: That makes no difference.
VLADIMIR: All the same . . . that tree . . . (turning towards auditorium) that bog .
ESTRAGON: You're sure it was this evening?
ESTRAGON: That we were to wait.
VLADIMIR: He said Saturday. (Pause.) I think.
ESTRAGON: You think.
VLADIMIR: I must have made a note of it. (He fumbles in his pockets, bursting with miscellaneous rubbish.)
ESTRAGON: (very insidious). But what Saturday? And is it Saturday? Is it not rather Sunday? (Pause.) Or Monday? (Pause.) Or Friday?
VLADIMIR: (looking wildly about him, as though the date was inscribed in the landscape). It's not possible!
ESTRAGON: Or Thursday?
VLADIMIR: What'll we do?
ESTRAGON: If he came yesterday and we weren't here you may be sure he won't come again today.
VLADIMIR: But you say we were here yesterday.
ESTRAGON: I may be mistaken. (Pause.) Let's stop talking for a minute, do you mind?

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