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You’re a success, aren’t you? Are you content?
    HAPPY: Hell, no!
    BIFF: Why? You’re making money, aren’t you?
    HAPPY [ moving about with energy, expressiveness ]: All I can do now is wait for the merchandise manager to die. And suppose I get to be merchandise manager? He’s a good friend of mine, and he just built a terrific estate on Long Island. And he lived there about two months and sold it, and now he’s building another one. He can’t enjoy it once it’s finished. And I know that’s just what I would do. I don’t know what the hell I’m workin’ for. Sometimes I sit in my apartment—all alone. And I think of the rent I’m paying. And it’s crazy. But then, it’s what I always wanted. My own apartment, a car, and plenty of women. And still, goddammit, I’m lonely.
    BIFF [ with enthusiasm ]: Listen, why don’t you come out West with me?
    HAPPY: You and I, heh?
    BIFF: Sure, maybe we could buy a ranch. Raise cattle, use our muscles. Men built like we are should be working out in the open.
    HAPPY [ avidly ]: The Loman Brothers, heh?
    BIFF [ with vast affection ]: Sure, we’d be known all over the counties!
    HAPPY [ enthralled ]: That’s what I dream about, Biff. Sometimes I want to just rip my clothes off in the middle of the store and outbox that goddam merchandise manager. I mean I can outbox, outrun, and outlift anybody in that store, and I have to take orders from those common, petty sons-of-bitches till I can’t stand it any more.
    BIFF: I’m tellin’ you, kid, if you were with me I’d be happy out there.
    HAPPY [ enthused ]: See, Biff, everybody around me is so false that I’m constantly lowering my ideals . . .
    BIFF: Baby, together we’d stand up for one another, we’d have someone to trust.
    HAPPY: If I were around you—
    BIFF: Hap, the trouble is we weren’t brought up to grub for money. I don’t know how to do it.
    HAPPY: Neither can I!
    BIFF: Then let’s go!
    HAPPY: The only thing is—what can you make out there?
    BIFF: But look at your friend. Builds an estate and then hasn’t the peace of mind to live in it.
    HAPPY: Yeah, but when he walks into the store the waves part in front of him. That’s fifty-two thousand dollars a year coming through the revolving door, and I got more in my pinky finger than he’s got in his head.
    BIFF: Yeah, but you just said—
    HAPPY: I gotta show some of those pompous, self-important executives over there that Hap Loman can make the grade. I want to walk into the store the way he walks in. Then I’ll go with you, Biff. We’ll be together yet, I swear. But take those two we had tonight. Now weren’t they gorgeous creatures?
    BIFF: Yeah, yeah, most gorgeous I’ve had in years.
    HAPPY: I get that any time I want, Biff. Whenever I feel disgusted. The only trouble is, it gets like bowling or something. I just keep knockin’ them over and it doesn’t mean anything. You still run around a lot?
    BIFF: Naa. I’d like to find a girl—steady, somebody with substance.
    HAPPY: That’s what I long for.
    BIFF: Go on! You’d never come home.
    HAPPY: I would! Somebody with character, with resistance! Like Mom, y’know? You’re gonna call me a bastard when I tell you this. That girl Charlotte I was with tonight is engaged to be married in five weeks. [ He tries on his new hat. ]
    BIFF: No kiddin’!
    HAPPY: Sure, the guy’s in line for the vice-presidency of the store. I don’t know what gets into me, maybe I just have an overdeveloped sense of competition or something, but I went and ruined her, and furthermore I can’t get rid of her. And he’s the third executive I’ve done that to. Isn’t that a crummy characteristic? And to top it all, I go to their weddings! [ Indignantly, but laughing ] Like I’m not supposed to take bribes. Manufacturers offer me a hundred-dollar bill now and then to throw an order their way. You know how honest I am, but it’s like this girl, see. I hate myself for it. Because I don’t want the girl, and, still, I