Death of a Salesman
HAPPY: What the hell!
WILLY: Tell me what happened!
Biff [to Happy]: I can’t talk to him!
[A single trumpet note jars the ear. The light of green leaves stains the house, which holds the air of night and a dream. Young Bernard enters and knocks on the door of the house.] (Act 2)
BIFF: Let’s talk quietly and get down to the facts, huh?
WILLY [as though Biff had been interrupting]: Well, what’s happened? It’s great news, Biff. Did he take you into his office or’d you talk in the waiting room?
BIFF: Well he came in, see, and—
WILLY [with a big smile]: What’d he say? Betcha he threw his arm around you.
BIFF: Well, he kinda—
WILLY: He’s a fine man. [To Happy] Very hard man to see, y’know.
HAPPY [agreeing]: Oh, I know.
WILLY [to Biff]: Is that where you had the drinks?
BIFF: Yeah, he gave me a couple of—no, no!
HAPPY [cutting in]: He told him my Florida idea. (Act 2)
WILLY: Well, Bill Oliver—very big sporting-goods man—he wants Biff very badly. Called him in from the West, Long distance, carte blanche, special deliveries. Your friends have their own private tennis court?
BERNARD: You still with the old firm, Willy?
BERNARD: What is it Willy?
WILLY [small and alone]: What-what’s the secret?
BERNARD: What secret?
WILLY: How- how did you? Why didn’t he ever catch on?
BERNARD: I wouldn’t know that, Willy.
WILLY: [confidentially, desperately]: You were his friend, his boyhood friend. There’s something I don’t understand about it. His life ended after that Ebbets Field game. From the age of seventeen nothing good ever happened to him. (Act 2)