Death of a Salesman, Arthur MillerHide PassageA melody is heard, played upon a flute. . . .telling of grass and trees and the horizon. . . . Before us is the Salesman's house. We are aware of towering, angular shapes behindit, surrounding it on all sides. Only the blue light of the sky falls upon the house . . .the surrounding area shows an angry glow of orange. As more light appears, we seea solid vault of apartment houses around the small, fragile-seeming home. An air*of the dream clings to the place, a dream rising out of reality. . . . * *Willy Loman, the Salesman, enters . . . The flute plays on. . . . He hears but is not aware of it.. . . * LINDA(hearing Willy outside the bedroom, calls with some trepidation)Willy! WILLYIt’s all right. I came back. LINDAWhy? What happened?(Slight pause.)Did something happen, Willy? WILLYNo, nothing happened.     5 LINDAYou didn’t smash the car, did you? WILLY(with casual irritation)I said nothing happened. Didn’t you hear me? LINDADon’t you feel well? WILLYI’m tired to the death.(The flute has faded away. . . . .)I couldn’t make it. I just couldn’t make it, Linda . . .     10I stopped for a cup of coffee. Maybe it was the coffee. LINDAWhat? WILLY(after a pause)I suddenly couldn’t drive any more. The car kept going off onto the shoulder, y’know? LINDA(helpfully)Oh. Maybe it was the steering again. . . . WILLYNo, it’s me, it’s me. . . . I can’t seem to — keep my mind to it.     15 LINDAMaybe it’s your glasses. You never went for your new glasses. WILLYNo, I see everything. . . .(with wonder)I was driving along, you understand? And I was fine. I was even observing thescenery. You can imagine, me looking at scenery, on the road every week of mylife. But it’s so beautiful up there, Linda, the trees are so thick, and the sun is     20warm. I opened the windshield and just let the warm air bathe over me. And thenall of a sudden I’m goin’ off the road! I’m tellin’ ya, I absolutely forgot I was driving. . . . LINDAWilly, dear. Talk to them again. There’s no reason why you can’t work in New York. WILLYThey don’t need me in New York. I’m the New England man. I’m vital in New England. LINDABut you’re sixty years old. They can’t expect you to keep traveling every week . . .     25Why don’t you go down to the place tomorrow and tell Howard you’ve simply gotto work in New York? You’re too accommodating, dear. WILLYIf old man Wagner was alive I’d a been in charge of New York now! But that boy of his,that Howard, he don’t appreciate. When I went north the first time, the WagnerCompany didn’t know where New England was!     30 LINDAWhy don’t you tell those things to Howard, dear? . . . WILLYFigure it out. Work a lifetime to pay off a house. You finally own it, and there’s nobody tolive in it. LINDAWell, dear, life is a casting off. It’s always that way. WILLYNo, no, some people-- some people accomplish something. Did Biff say anything     35after I went this morning? LINDAYou shouldn’t have criticized him, Willy, especially after he just got off the train.You mustn’t lose your temper with him. WILLYWhen the hell did I lose my temper? I simply asked him if he was making anymoney. Is that a criticism?     40In the beginning, when he was young, I thought, well, a young man, it’s good forhim to tramp around, take a lot of different jobs. But it’s more than ten years nowand he has yet to make thirty-five dollars a week! . . .The trouble is he’s lazy, goddammit! . . . Biff is a lazy bum! . . . LINDAI think he’s still lost, Willy. I think he’s very lost.     45 WILLYBiff Loman is lost. In the greatest country in the world a young man withsuch — personal attractiveness, gets lost. And such a hard worker. There’s onething about Biff — he’s not lazy.Miller, Arthur. Death of a Salesman. Pelister.og, N.D. Web. 20 September 2016.Linda's comments in lines 23 and 25-27 primarily reveal thatElimination ToolSelect one answerAshe thinks Willy is overreacting.Bshe understands why Willy is having difficulty driving.Cshe feels that there are unfair demands on Willy.Dshe is irritated by Willy's lack of drive.Eshe supports Willy without question.

Willy's Early Return HomeModerateDeath of a Salesman, Arthur MillerHide PassageA melody is heard, played upon a flute. . . .telling of grass and trees and the horizon. . . . Before us is the Salesman's house. We are aware of towering, angular shapes behindit, surrounding it on all sides. Only the blue light of the sky falls upon the house . . .the surrounding area shows an angry glow of orange. As more light appears, we seea solid vault of apartment houses around the small, fragile-seeming home. An air*of the dream clings to the place, a dream rising out of reality. . . . * *Willy Loman, the Salesman, enters . . . The flute plays on. . . . He hears but is not aware of it.. . . * LINDA(hearing Willy outside the bedroom, calls with some trepidation)Willy! WILLYIt’s all right. I came back. LINDAWhy? What happened?(Slight pause.)Did something happen, Willy? WILLYNo, nothing happened.     5 LINDAYou didn’t smash the car, did you? WILLY(with casual irritation)I said nothing happened. Didn’t you hear me? LINDADon’t you feel well? WILLYI’m tired to the death.(The flute has faded away. . . . .)I couldn’t make it. I just couldn’t make it, Linda . . .     10I stopped for a cup of coffee. Maybe it was the coffee. LINDAWhat? WILLY(after a pause)I suddenly couldn’t drive any more. The car kept going off onto the shoulder, y’know? LINDA(helpfully)Oh. Maybe it was the steering again. . . . WILLYNo, it’s me, it’s me. . . . I can’t seem to — keep my mind to it.     15 LINDAMaybe it’s your glasses. You never went for your new glasses. WILLYNo, I see everything. . . .(with wonder)I was driving along, you understand? And I was fine. I was even observing thescenery. You can imagine, me looking at scenery, on the road every week of mylife. But it’s so beautiful up there, Linda, the trees are so thick, and the sun is     20warm. I opened the windshield and just let the warm air bathe over me. And thenall of a sudden I’m goin’ off the road! I’m tellin’ ya, I absolutely forgot I was driving. . . . LINDAWilly, dear. Talk to them again. There’s no reason why you can’t work in New York. WILLYThey don’t need me in New York. I’m the New England man. I’m vital in New England. LINDABut you’re sixty years old. They can’t expect you to keep traveling every week . . .     25Why don’t you go down to the place tomorrow and tell Howard you’ve simply gotto work in New York? You’re too accommodating, dear. WILLYIf old man Wagner was alive I’d a been in charge of New York now! But that boy of his,that Howard, he don’t appreciate. When I went north the first time, the WagnerCompany didn’t know where New England was!     30 LINDAWhy don’t you tell those things to Howard, dear? . . . WILLYFigure it out. Work a lifetime to pay off a house. You finally own it, and there’s nobody tolive in it. LINDAWell, dear, life is a casting off. It’s always that way. WILLYNo, no, some people-- some people accomplish something. Did Biff say anything     35after I went this morning? LINDAYou shouldn’t have criticized him, Willy, especially after he just got off the train.You mustn’t lose your temper with him. WILLYWhen the hell did I lose my temper? I simply asked him if he was making anymoney. Is that a criticism?     40In the beginning, when he was young, I thought, well, a young man, it’s good forhim to tramp around, take a lot of different jobs. But it’s more than ten years nowand he has yet to make thirty-five dollars a week! . . .The trouble is he’s lazy, goddammit! . . . Biff is a lazy bum! . . . LINDAI think he’s still lost, Willy. I think he’s very lost.     45 WILLYBiff Loman is lost. In the greatest country in the world a young man withsuch — personal attractiveness, gets lost. And such a hard worker. There’s onething about Biff — he’s not lazy.Miller, Arthur. Death of a Salesman. Pelister.og, N.D. Web. 20 September 2016.What is the MOST likely reason for Willy's returning home early?Elimination ToolSelect one answerA"I'm tired to the death" (line 9).B"It was the coffee" (line 11).C"The car kept going off onto the shoulder" (line 13).D"It was the steering again" (line 14).E"It's your glasses. You never went for your new glasses" (line 16).Skip For NowSu

A melody is heard, played upon a flute. . . .telling of grass and trees and the horizon. . . . Before us is the Salesman's house. We are aware of towering, angular shapes behindit, surrounding it on all sides. Only the blue light of the sky falls upon the house . . .the surrounding area shows an angry glow of orange. As more light appears, we seea solid vault of apartment houses around the small, fragile-seeming home. An air*of the dream clings to the place, a dream rising out of reality. . . . * *Willy Loman, the Salesman, enters . . . The flute plays on. . . . He hears but is not aware of it.. . . * LINDA(hearing Willy outside the bedroom, calls with some trepidation)Willy! WILLYIt’s all right. I came back. LINDAWhy? What happened?(Slight pause.)Did something happen, Willy? WILLYNo, nothing happened.     5 LINDAYou didn’t smash the car, did you? WILLY(with casual irritation)I said nothing happened. Didn’t you hear me? LINDADon’t you feel well? WILLYI’m tired to the death.(The flute has faded away. . . . .)I couldn’t make it. I just couldn’t make it, Linda . . .     10I stopped for a cup of coffee. Maybe it was the coffee. LINDAWhat? WILLY(after a pause)I suddenly couldn’t drive any more. The car kept going off onto the shoulder, y’know? LINDA(helpfully)Oh. Maybe it was the steering again. . . . WILLYNo, it’s me, it’s me. . . . I can’t seem to — keep my mind to it.     15 LINDAMaybe it’s your glasses. You never went for your new glasses. WILLYNo, I see everything. . . .(with wonder)I was driving along, you understand? And I was fine. I was even observing thescenery. You can imagine, me looking at scenery, on the road every week of mylife. But it’s so beautiful up there, Linda, the trees are so thick, and the sun is     20warm. I opened the windshield and just let the warm air bathe over me. And thenall of a sudden I’m goin’ off the road! I’m tellin’ ya, I absolutely forgot I was driving. . . . LINDAWilly, dear. Talk to them again. There’s no reason why you can’t work in New York. WILLYThey don’t need me in New York. I’m the New England man. I’m vital in New England. LINDABut you’re sixty years old. They can’t expect you to keep traveling every week . . .     25Why don’t you go down to the place tomorrow and tell Howard you’ve simply gotto work in New York? You’re too accommodating, dear. WILLYIf old man Wagner was alive I’d a been in charge of New York now! But that boy of his,that Howard, he don’t appreciate. When I went north the first time, the WagnerCompany didn’t know where New England was!     30 LINDAWhy don’t you tell those things to Howard, dear? . . . WILLYFigure it out. Work a lifetime to pay off a house. You finally own it, and there’s nobody tolive in it. LINDAWell, dear, life is a casting off. It’s always that way. WILLYNo, no, some people-- some people accomplish something. Did Biff say anything     35after I went this morning? LINDAYou shouldn’t have criticized him, Willy, especially after he just got off the train.You mustn’t lose your temper with him. WILLYWhen the hell did I lose my temper? I simply asked him if he was making anymoney. Is that a criticism?     40In the beginning, when he was young, I thought, well, a young man, it’s good forhim to tramp around, take a lot of different jobs. But it’s more than ten years nowand he has yet to make thirty-five dollars a week! . . .The trouble is he’s lazy, goddammit! . . . Biff is a lazy bum! . . . LINDAI think he’s still lost, Willy. I think he’s very lost.     45 WILLYBiff Loman is lost. In the greatest country in the world a young man withsuch — personal attractiveness, gets lost. And such a hard worker. There’s onething about Biff — he’s not lazy.Miller, Arthur. Death of a Salesman. Pelister.og, N.D. Web. 20 September 2016.Willy's comments in lines 18-22 ("I was . . . driving") suggest that WillyElimination ToolSelect one answerAneeds a vacation.Bhas never driven that route before.Chas his mind on a tough problem and forgets about driving.Dis falling asleep at the wheel.Efeels trapped by the demands of his job.

overall summary of death of salesman for acting in stage

During a dull, dark, and soundless day in autumn, when the clouds hung oppressively low, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country. At length I found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher. I know not how it was but, with the first glimpse of the building, a sense of insufferable gloom pervaded my spirit. I looked upon the scene before me; upon the mere house, and the simple landscape—upon the bleak walls—upon the vacant eye-like windows, upon a few rank marsh plants, and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation. What was it, I paused to think, what was it that so unnerved me about the House of Usher? It was possible, I reflected, that a mere different arrangement of the scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to annihilate its capacity for sorrowful impression. Then, acting upon this idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid lake near the dwelling, and gazed down upon the warped reflection of the marsh plants, and the ghastly tree-stems, and the vacant eye-like windows.     Nevertheless, in this mansion of gloom I now proposed to take a sojourn of several weeks. Its proprietor, Roderick Usher, had been one of my friends in boyhood. Although, many years had passed since we last met. A letter, however, had reached me in a distant part of the country. A letter from him, which had required nothing less than a personal reply. Usher's letter spoke of illness,of a mental disorder which oppressed him and of an earnest desire to see me, as his best and indeed his only personal friend. His desire being, that through my cheerfulness, I could help to alleviate his malady. It was the way in which it was said, it was the heart that went with his request, which allowed me no room for hesitation; and I accordingly obeyed forthwith.3Which detail from the passage develops the theme that true friends can always be counted upon in times of need? A. A letter, however, had reached me in a distant part of the country. B. Nevertheless, in this mansion of gloom I now proposed to take a sojourn of several weeks. C. Its proprietor, Roderick Usher, had been one of my friends in boyhood. D. Usher's letter spoke of illness,of a mental disorder which oppressed him and of an earnest desire to see me . . .

Select the correct answer.What word best describes the tone of this excerpt from "The Fall of the House of Usher" by Edgar Allan Poe?I looked upon the scene before me—upon the mere house, and the simple landscape features of the domain—upon the bleak walls—upon the vacant eye-like windows—upon a few rank sedges—and upon a few white trunks of decayed trees—with an utter depression of soul which I can compare to no earthly sensation more properly than to the after-dream of the reveller upon opium—the bitter lapse into everyday life—the hideous dropping off of the veil. There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart—an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into aught of the sublime. What was it—I paused to think—what was it that so unnerved me in the contemplation of the House of Usher? It was a mystery all insoluble; nor could I grapple with the shadowy fancies that crowded upon me as I pondered. I was forced to fall back upon the unsatisfactory conclusion, that while, beyond doubt, there are combinations of very simple natural objects which have the power of thus affecting us, still the analysis of this power lies among considerations beyond our depth. It was possible, I reflected, that a mere different arrangement of the particulars of the scene, of the details of the picture, would be sufficient to modify, or perhaps to annihilate its capacity for sorrowful impression; and, acting upon this idea, I reined my horse to the precipitous brink of a black and lurid tarn that lay in unruffled lustre by the dwelling, and gazed down—but with a shudder even more thrilling than before—upon the remodelled and inverted images of the gray sedge, and the ghastly tree-stems, and the vacant and eye-like windows. A. admiration B. terror C. hope D. discovery E. loss