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Death of a Salesman_ Certain Private Conversations in Two Acts and a Requiem - Miller, Arthur [43]

By Root 997 0
appears in the house, as of old.]

WILLY [wildly]: Math, math, math!

BIFF: Take it easy, Pop!

YOUNG BERNARD: Mrs. Loman!

WILLY [ furiously]: If you hadn’t flunked you’d’ve been set by now!

BIFF: Now, look, I’m gonna tell you what happened, and you’re going to listen to me.

YOUNG BERNARD: Mrs. Loman!

BIFF: I waited six hours—

HAPPY: What the hell are you saying?

BIFF: I kept sending in my name but he wouldn’t see me. So finally he . . . [He continues unheard as light fades low on the restaurant.]

YOUNG BERNARD: Biff flunked math!

LINDA: No!

YOUNG BERNARD: Birnbaum flunked him! They won’t graduate him!

LINDA: But they have to. He’s gotta go to the university. Where is he? Biff! Biff!

YOUNG BERNARD: No, he left. He went to Grand Central.

LINDA: Grand—You mean he went to Boston!

YOUNG BERNARD: Is Uncle Willy in Boston?

LINDA: Oh, maybe Willy can talk to the teacher. Oh, the poor, poor boy!

[Light on house area snaps out.]

BIFF [at the table, now audible, holding up a gold fountain pen]: . . . so I’m washed up with Oliver, you understand? Are you listening to me?

WILLY [at a loss]: Yeah, sure. If you hadn’t flunked—

BIFF: Flunked what? What’re you talking about?

WILLY: Don’t blame everything on me! I didn’t flunk math—you did! What pen?

HAPPY: That was awful dumb, Biff, a pen like that is worth—

WILLY [seeing the pen for the first time]: You took Oliver’s pen?

BIFF [weakening]: Dad, I just explained it to you.

WILLY: You stole Bill Oliver’s fountain pen!

BIFF: I didn’t exactly steal it! That’s just what I’ve been explaining to you!

HAPPY: He had it in his hand and just then Oliver walked in, so he got nervous and stuck it in his pocket!

WILLY: My God, Biff!

BIFF: I never intended to do it, Dad!

OPERATOR’S VOICE: Standish Arms, good evening!

WILLY [shouting]: I’m not in my room!

BIFF [frightened]: Dad, what’s the matter? [He and HAPPY stand up.]

OPERATOR: Ringing Mr. Loman for you!

WILLY: I’m not there, stop it!

BIFF [horrified, gets down on one knee before WILLY]: Dad, I’ll make good, I’ll make good. [WILLY tries to get to his feet. BIFF holds him down.] Sit down now.

WILLY: No, you’re no good, you’re no good for anything.

BIFF: I am, Dad, I’ll find something else, you understand? Now don’t worry about anything. [He holds up WILLY’S face.] Talk to me, Dad.

OPERATOR: Mr. Loman does not answer. Shall I page him?

WILLY [attempting to stand, as though to rush and silence the OPERATOR]: No, no, no!

HAPPY: He’ll strike something, Pop.

WILLY: No, no . . .

BIFF [desperately, standing over WILLY]: Pop, listen! Listen to me! I’m telling you something good. Oliver talked to his partner about the Florida idea. You listening? He—he talked to his partner, and he came to me . . . I’m going to be all right, you hear? Dad, listen to me, he said it was just a question of the amount!

WILLY: Then you . . . got it?

HAPPY: He’s gonna be terrific, Pop!

WILLY [trying to stand]: Then you got it, haven’t you? You got it! You got it!

BIFF [agonized, holds WILLY down]: No, no. Look, Pop. I’m supposed to have lunch with them tomorrow. I’m just telling you this so you’ll know that I can still make an impression, Pop. And I’ll make good somewhere, but I can’t go tomorrow, see?

WILLY: Why not? You simply—

BIFF: But the pen, Pop!

WILLY: You give it to him and tell him it was an oversight!

HAPPY: Sure, have lunch tomorrow!

BIFF: I can’t say that—

WILLY: You were doing a crossword puzzle and accidentally used his pen!

BIFF: Listen, kid, I took those balls years ago, now I walk in with his fountain pen? That clinches it, don’t you see? I can’t face him like that! I’ll try elsewhere.

PAGE’S VOICE: Paging Mr. Loman!

WILLY: Don’t you want to be anything?

BIFF: Pop, how can I go back?

WILLY: You don’t want to be anything, is that what’s behind it?

BIFF [now angry at WILLY for not crediting his sympathy]: Don’t take it that way! You think it was easy walking into that office after what I’d done to him? A team of horses couldn’t have dragged me back to Bill Oliver!

WILLY: Then why’d you go?

BIFF: Why did I go?

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