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apartment house! And another one on the other side . . . How can they whip cheese?
    [ On WILLY’S last line, BIFF and HAPPY raise themselves up in their beds, listening. ]
    LINDA: Go down, try it. And be quiet.
    WILLY [ turning to LINDA, guiltily ]: You’re not worried about me, are you, sweetheart?
    BIFF: What’s the matter?
    HAPPY: Listen!
    LINDA: You’ve got too much on the ball to worry about.
    WILLY: You’re my foundation and my support, Linda.
    LINDA: Just try to relax, dear. You make mountains out of molehills.
    WILLY: I won’t fight with him any more. If he wants to go back to Texas, let him go.
    LINDA: He’ll find his way.
    WILLY: Sure. Certain men just don’t get started till later in life. Like Thomas Edison, I think. Or B. F. Goodrich. One of them was deaf. [ He starts for the bedroom doorway. ] I’ll put my money on Biff.
    LINDA: And Willy—if it’s warm Sunday we’ll drive in the country. And we’ll open the windshield, and take lunch.
    WILLY: No, the windshields don’t open on the new cars.
    LINDA: But you opened it today.
    WILLY: Me? I didn’t. [ He stops. ] Now isn’t that peculiar! Isn’t that a remarkable—[ He breaks off in amazement and fright as the flute is heard distantly. ]
    LINDA: What, darling?
    WILLY: That is the most remarkable thing.
    LINDA: What, dear?
    WILLY: I was thinking of the Chevvy. [ Slight pause. ] Nineteen twenty-eight . . . when I had that red Chevvy—[ Breaks off. ] That funny? I coulda sworn I was driving that Chevvy today.
    LINDA: Well, that’s nothing. Something must’ve reminded you.
    WILLY: Remarkable. Ts. Remember those days? The way Biff used to simonize that car? The dealer refused to believe there was eighty thousand miles on it. [ He shakes his head. ] Heh! [ To LINDA] Close your eyes, I’ll be right up. [ He walks out of the bedroom. ]
    HAPPY [ to BIFF]: Jesus, maybe he smashed up the car again!
    LINDA [ calling after WILLY]: Be careful on the stairs, dear! The cheese is on the middle shelf! [ She turns, goes over to the bed, takes his jacket, and goes out of the bedroom. ]
    [ Light has risen on the boys’ room. Unseen, WILLY is heard talking to himself, “Eighty thousand miles,” and a little laugh. BIFF gets out of bed, comes downstage a bit, and stands attentively. BIFF is two years older than his brother, HAPPY, well built, but in these days bears a worn air and seems less self-assured. He has succeeded less, and his dreams are stronger and less acceptable than HAPPY’S. HAPPY is tall, powerfully made. Sexuality is like a visible color on him, or a scent that many women have discovered. He, like his brother, is lost, but in a different way, for he has never allowed himself to turn his face toward defeat and is thus more confused and hard-skinned, although seemingly more content. ]
    HAPPY [ getting out of bed ]: He’s going to get his licence taken away if he keeps that up. I’m getting nervous about him, y’know, Biff ?
    BIFF: His eyes are going.
    HAPPY: No, I’ve driven with him. He sees all right. He just doesn’t keep his mind on it. I drove into the city with him last week. He stops at a green light and then it turns red and he goes. [ He laughs. ]
    BIFF: Maybe he’s color-blind.
    HAPPY: Pop? Why, he’s got the finest eye for color in the business. You know that.
    BIFF [ sitting down on his bed ]: I’m going to sleep.
    HAPPY: You’re not still sour on Dad, are you, Biff?
    BIFF: He’s all right, I guess.
    WILLY [ underneath them, in the living-room ]: Yes, sir, eighty thousand miles—eighty-two thousand!
    BIFF: You smoking?
    HAPPY [ holding out a pack of cigarettes ]: Want one?
    BIFF [ taking a cigarette ]: I can never sleep when I smell it.
    WILLY: What a simonizing job, heh!
    HAPPY [ with deep sentiment ]: Funny, Biff, y’know? Us sleeping in here again? The old beds. [ He pats his bed affectionately. ] All the talk that went across those two beds, huh? Our whole lives.
    BIFF: Yeah. Lotta dreams and plans.
    HAPPY [ with a deep