Reаd the fоllоwing pаssаge frоm the play The Brute, then answer the questions that follow. From Anton Chekhov’s The Brute (pp. 769): Luka: Instead of carrying on this way, ma‘am, you should go out in the garden and take a bit of a walk, ma‘am. Or why not harness Toby and take a drive? Call on a couple of the neighbors, ma‘am? Mrs. Popov: Oh, Luka! Luka: Yes , ma‘am? What have I said, ma’am? Oh, dear! Mrs Popov: Toby! You said Toby! He adored that horse. When he drove me out to the Korchagins and the Vlasovs, it was always with Toby! He was a wonderful driver, do you remember, Luka? So graceful! So strong! I can see him now, pulling at those reins with all his might and main! Luka, tell them to give Toby an extra portion of oats today. Luka: Yes, ma‘am A bell rings. Mrs. Popov: Who is that? Tell them I‘m not at home. Luka: Very good, ma‘am Mrs. Popov: (gazing again at the photograph) you shall see, my Popov, how a wife can love and forgive. Till death do us part. Longer than that. Till death re-unite us forever! (suddenly a titter breaks through her tears) aren‘t you ashamed of yourself, Popov? Here‘s your little wife, being good, being faithful, so faithful she’s locked up here waiting her own funeral, while you– doesn‘t it make you ashamed, you naughty boy? You were terrible, you know. You were unfaithful, and you made those awful scenes about it, you stormed out and left me alone for weeks– Enter Luka Luka: (upset) There‘s someone asking for you, ma’am. Says he must – Mrs. Popov: I suppose you told him that since my husband’s death I see no one? Luka: yes, ma‘am. I did ma‘am. But he wouldn‘t listen, ma‘am. He say it‘s urgent. Mrs. Popov: (shrillly) I see no one! Luka: He won't take no for an answer, ma‘am. He just curses and swears and comes in any way. He‘s a perfect monster, ma‘am. He‘s in the dining room right now. Mrs. Popov: In the dining room, is he? I‘ll give him his comeuppance. Bring him in here this minute. The italicized words and phrases, as well as words and phrases in parentheses in the above passage are examples of what?
Reаd the pаssаge belоw frоm A Dоll’s House, by Henrik Ibsen (pp. 834–890) and answer the following questions: NORA: I told you about our trip to Italy. Torvald would never have recovered if he had not gone there— MRS LINDE: Yes, but your father gave you the necessary funds. NORA:[smiling]. Yes, that is what Torvald and all the others think, but— MRS LINDE: But— NORA: Papa didn’t give us a shilling. It was I who procured the money. MRS LINDE: You? All that large sum? NORA: Two hundred and fifty pounds. What do you think of that? MRS LINDE: But, Nora, how could you possibly do it? Did you win a prize in the Lottery? NORA:[contemptuously]. In the Lottery? There would have been no credit in that. MRS LINDE: But where did you get it from, then? Nora [humming and smiling with an air of mystery]. Hm, hm! Aha! MRS LINDE: Because you couldn’t have borrowed it. NORA: Couldn’t I? Why not? MRS LINDE: No, a wife cannot borrow without her husband’s consent. NORA: [tossing her head]. Oh, if it is a wife who has any head for business—a wife who has the wit to be a little bit clever— MRS LINDE: I don’t understand it at all, Nora. NORA: There is no need you should. I never said I had borrowed the money. I may have got it some other way. [Lies back on the sofa.] Perhaps I got it from some other admirer. When anyone is as attractive as I am— MRS LINDE: You are a mad creature. NORA: Now, you know you’re full of curiosity, Christine. MRS LINDE: Listen to me, Nora dear. Haven’t you been a little bit imprudent? NORA: [sits up straight]. Is it imprudent to save your husband’s life? MRS LINDE: It seems to me imprudent, without his knowledge, to— NORA: But it was absolutely necessary that he should not know! My goodness, can’t you understand that? It was necessary he should have no idea what a dangerous condition he was in. It was to me that the doctors came and said that his life was in danger, and that the only thing to save him was to live in the south. Do you suppose I didn’t try, first of all, to get what I wanted as if it were for myself? I told him how much I should love to travel abroad like other young wives; I tried tears and entreaties with him; I told him that he ought to remember the condition I was in, and that he ought to be kind and indulgent to me; I even hinted that he might raise a loan. That nearly made him angry, Christine. He said I was thoughtless, and that it was his duty as my husband not to indulge me in my whims and caprices—as I believe he called them. Very well, I thought, you must be saved—and that was how I came to devise a way out of the difficulty— MRS LINDE: And did your husband never get to know from your father that the money had not come from him? NORA: No, never. Papa died just at that time. I had meant to let him into the secret and beg him never to reveal it. But he was so ill then—alas, there never was any need to tell him. MRS LINDE: And since then have you never told your secret to your husband? NORA: Good Heavens, no! How could you think so? A man who has such strong opinions about these things! And besides, how painful and humiliating it would be for Torvald, with his manly independence, to know that he owed me anything! It would upset our mutual relations altogether; our beautiful happy home would no longer be what it is now. MRS LINDE: Do you mean never to tell him about it? NORA: [meditatively, and with a half smile]. Yes—someday, perhaps, after many years, when I am no longer as nice-looking as I am now. Don’t laugh at me! I mean, of course, when Torvald is no longer as devoted to me as he is now; when my dancing and dressing-up and reciting have palled on him; then it may be a good thing to have something in reserve—[Breaking off.] What nonsense! That time will never come. Now, what do you think of my great secret, Christine? Do you still think I am of no use? I can tell you, too, that this affair has caused me a lot of worry. It has been by no means easy for me to meet my engagements punctually. I may tell you that there is something that is called, in business, quarterly interest, and another thing called payment in installments, and it is always so dreadfully difficult to manage them. I have had to save a little here and there, where I could, you understand. I have not been able to put aside much from my housekeeping money, for Torvald must have a good table. I couldn’t let my children be shabbily dressed; I have felt obliged to use up all he gave me for them, the sweet little darlings! Which best describes the play A Doll’s House?
Reаd the fоllоwing pаssаge frоm the play Trifles, by Susan Glaspell then answer the questions that follow. MRS. HALE. She—come to think of it, she was kind of like a bird herself—real sweet and pretty, but kind of timid and—fluttery. How—she—did—change. (Silence; then as if struck by a happy thought and relieved to get back to everyday things.) Tell you what, Mrs. Peters, why don’t you take the quilt in with you? It might take up her mind. MRS. PETERS. Why, I think that’s a real nice idea, Mrs. Hale. There couldn’t possible be any objection to it, could there? Now, just what would I take? I wonder if her patches are in here—and her things. (They look in the sewing basket.) MRS. HALE. Here’s some red. I expect this has got sewing things in it (Brings out a fancy box.) What a pretty box. Looks like something somebody would give you. Maybe her scissors are in here. (Opens box. Suddenly puts her hand to her nose.) Why— (Mrs. Peters bends nearer, then turns her face away.) There’s something wrapped up in this piece of silk. MRS. PETERS. Why, this isn’t her scissors. MRS. HALE (lifting the silk.) Oh, Mrs. Peters—it’s— (Mrs. Peters bend closer.) MRS. PETERS. It’s the bird. MRS. HALE (jumping up.) But, Mrs. Peters—look at it. Its neck! Look at its neck! It’s all—other side to. MRS. PETERS. Somebody—wrung—its neck. (Their eyes meet. A look of growing comprehension of horror. Steps are heard outside. Mrs. Hale slips box under quilt pieces, and sinks into her chair. Enter Sheriff and County Attorney. Mrs. Peters rises.) COUNTY ATTORNEY (as one turning from serious thing to little pleasantries). Well, ladies, have you decided whether she was going to quilt it or knot it? MRS. PETERS. We think she was going to—knot it. COUNTY ATTORNEY. Well, that’s interesting, I’m sure. (Seeing the birdcage.) Has the bird flown? MRS. HALE (putting more quilt pieces over the box.) We think the—cat got it. COUNTY ATTORNEY (preoccupied). Is there a cat? (Mrs. Hale glances in a quick covert way at Mrs. Peters.) MRS. PETERS. Well, not now. They’re superstitious, you know. They leave. COUNTY ATTORNEY (to Sheriff Peters, continuing an interrupted conversation.) No sign at all of anyone having come from the outside. Their own rope. Now let’s go up again and go over it piece by piece. (They start upstairs.) It would have to have been someone who knew just the— (Mrs. Peters sits down. The two women sit there not looking at one another, but as if peering into something and at the same time holding back. When they talk now, it is the manner of feeling their way over strange ground, as if afraid of what they are saying, but as if they cannot help saying it.) MRS. HALE. She liked the bird. She was going to bury it in that pretty box. MRS. PETERS. (in a whisper). When I was a girl—my kitten—there was a boy took a hatchet, and before my eyes—and before I could get there—(Covers her face an instant.) If they hadn’t held me back, I would have— (Catches herself, looks upstairs, where steps are heard, falters weakly.)—hurt him. MRS. HALE (with a slow look around her.) I wonder how it would seem never to have had any children around. (Pause.) No, Wright wouldn’t like the bird—a thing that sang. She used to sing. He killed that, too. MRS. PETERS (moving uneasily). We don’t know who killed the bird. MRS. HALE. I knew John Wright. MRS. PETERS. It was an awful thing was done in this house that night, Mrs. Hale. Killing a man while he slept, slipping a rope around his neck that choked the life out of him. MRS. HALE. His neck, Choked the life out of him. (Her hand goes out and rests on the birdcage.) MRS. PETERS (with a rising voice). We don’t know who killed him. We don’t know. The above passage best represents which part of the plot?