This scene is an example of dramatic irony used to create suspense since the audience knows that

What theme is the main theme of this excerpt from the metal pig by hans christian andersen? in the garden of the grand duke's palace under the roof of one of the wings were a thousand roses bloom in winter, a little ragged boy had been sitting the whole day long. the boy might serve as a type of italy lovely and smiling and yet suffering. he was hungry and thirsty but no one gave him anything and when it became dark and they were about to close the gardens, the porter turned him out. a long time he stood musing on the bridge which crosses the arno and looking at the glittering stars that were reflected in the water which flowed between him and the wonderful marble bridge trinita. he then walked away towards the metal pig, half note down, clasped it with his arms, and, putting his mouth to the shining snout, drink deep droughts of the fresh water. close-by lay a few salad leaves into chestnuts, which register for his supper. no one was in the street but himself. it belonged only to him. he boldly seated himself on the pig's back, leaned forward so that his curly head could rest on the head of the animal, and, before he was aware, fell asleep. it was midnight. the metal pig raised himself gently, and the boy heard him say quite distinctly, hold tight little boy, for i am going to run, and way he started for most wonderful ride first they arrived at the p as the del granduca and the metal horse which bears the dukes statue made allowed

Industrialization in europe changed the way people lived. the urban working class came into being, and with it came the drudgery of work. which two parts of this excerpt from franz kafka's the metamorphosis most closely reflect this impact of industrialization on people's lives? "what's happened to me? " he thought. it wasn't a dream. his room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls. a collection of textile samples lay spread out on the table—samsa was a travelling salesman—and above it there hung a picture that he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and housed in a nice, gilded frame. it showed a lady fitted out with a fur hat and fur boa who sat upright, raising a heavy fur muff that covered the whole of her lower arm towards the viewer. gregor then turned to look out the window at the dull weather. drops of rain could be heard hitting the pane, which made him feel quite sad. "how about if i sleep a little bit longer and forget all this nonsense," he thought, but that was something he was unable to do because he was used to sleeping on his right, and in his present state couldn't get into that position. however hard he threw himself onto his right, he always rolled back to where he was. he must have tried it a hundred times, shut his eyes so that he wouldn't have to look at the floundering legs, and only stopped when he began to feel a mild, dull pain there that he had never felt before. "oh, no", he thought, "what a strenuous career it is that i've chosen! travelling day in and day out. doing business like this takes much more effort than doing your own business at home, and on top of that there's the curse of travelling, worries about making train connections, bad and irregular food, contact with different people all the time so that you can never get to know anyone or become friendly with them. they can all go away! " he felt a slight itch up on his belly; pushed himself slowly up on his back towards the headboard so that he could lift his head better; found where the itch was, and saw that it was covered with lots of little white spots which he didn't know what to make of; and when he tried to feel the place with one of his legs he drew it quickly back because as soon as he touched it he was overcome by a cold shudder. he slid back into his former position. "getting up early all the time", he thought, "it makes you stupid. you've got to get enough sleep. other travelling salesmen live a life of luxury. for instance, whenever i go back to the guest house during the morning to copy out the contract, these gentlemen are always still sitting there eating their breakfasts. i ought to just try that with my boss; i'd get kicked out on the spot. but who knows, maybe that would be the best thing for me. if i didn't have my parents to think about i'd have given in my notice a long time ago, i'd have gone up to the boss and told him just what i think, tell him everything i would, let him know just what i feel."

At first i was afraid to approach him—then the fear left me. he was sitting looking out over the city—he was dressed in the clothes of the gods. his age was neither young nor old—i could not tell his age. but there was wisdom in his face and great sadness. you could see that he would have not run away. he had sat at his window, watching his city die—then he himself had died. but it is better to lose one's life than one's spirit—and you could see from the face that his spirit had not been lost. i knew, that, if i touched him, he would fall into dust—and yet, there was something unconquered in the face. how does the conflict at the beginning of the paragraph move the plot forward? the narrator realizes that he is scared of the gods. the narrator realizes that he distrusts the spirits the narrator realizes that the god was a man. the narrator realizes that he is powerful like the gods.