Death of a Salesman Page #2

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Will you ever forget that?

- You smoking?

- You want one?

I can never sleep when I smell it.

It's funny, Biff, you know... us.

Sleeping in here again, huh?

The old beds.

All the talk that went across

those two beds, huh?

- Our whole lives.

- Yeah.

A lotta dreams and plans.

About 500 women would like to know

what was said in this room.

- Remember that big Betsy something?

- Mm-hmm.

What the hell was her name?

Over on Bushwick Avenue.

- With the collie dog.

- Yeah, that's the one.

- I got you in there, man.

- That was my first time, I think.

Boy, there was a pig.

You taught me everything I know

about women. Don't forget that.

I bet you forgot how bashful

you used to be, especially with girls.

Oh, I still am, Biff.

I just control it, that's all.

I think I got less bashful.

You got more so.

What happened, Biff?

Where's your old humour?

The old confidence?

What's the matter?

- Why does Dad mock me all the time?

- He's not mocking you, Biff.

Everything I say there's mockery

on his face. I can't get near him.

I think the fact

that you're not settled,

that you're still up in the air.

I think there's other things

depressing him.

- What do you mean?

- Never mind. Don't lay it all to me.

But I think if you just got started...

I mean, is there any future

for you out there?

I don't know what the future is.

I don't know what I'm supposed to want.

What do you mean?

I spent six or seven years after

high school trying to work myself up.

Shipping clerk, salesman,

business of one kind or another.

It's a measly manner of existence.

To get on that subway

in the hot mornings in the summer,

to devote your whole life

to keeping stock or making phone calls.

And the selling, the buying.

To suffer 50 weeks of the year

for the sake of a two week vacation,

when all you really desire

is to be outdoors with your shirt off.

And always to have to get ahead

of the next fellow.

Still, that's how you build a future.

I bought a new kind

of American type cheese. It's whipped.

Why do you get American?

I like Swiss.

- I thought you'd like a change.

- I don't want a change.

- Why am I always being contradicted?

- I wanted it to be a surprise.

- Why don't you open a window in here?

- They're all open.

They boxed us in here.

Bricks and windows, windows and bricks.

We should have bought

the land next door.

There's not a breath of fresh air

in the neighbourhood.

The grass don't grow anymore.

You can't raise a carrot.

They should have had a law

against apartment houses.

Remember those two beautiful elm trees?

When I and Biff

hung the swing between them, huh?

Like being a million miles

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