Unlike
most of my prior quizzes, which have presented a dozen different story elements
as clues, and asked which work(s) of fiction fits all of them, my quiz today
has just one giant clue. The passage which I have quoted below is from the short
Jane Austen epistolary story, “Love and Freindship” (her misspelling!), which
Jane wrote before she was 15 years old, in 1790. It is taken from a letter
written by Laura, one of the young heroines of the story, who has a rather pronounced
tendency toward hyperbole and “sensibility”—i.e.,
she is a drama queen in the extreme!
My
quiz question has two parts:
In
the following quoted passage from “Love and Freindship”:
what
very famous work of literature did Jane Austen covertly allude to? AND
what
very famous real life historical figure did Jane Austen covertly allude to?
Hint:
If you skim through my posts from the past 2 weeks, you will find both of the
answers, but in different contexts.
Good
luck, my fellow literary sleuths!:
“…As
soon as we had packed up our wardrobe and valuables, we left Macdonald Hall,
and after having walked about a mile and a half we sat down by the side of a
clear limpid stream to refresh our exhausted limbs. The place was suited to meditation. A grove of full-grown Elms sheltered us from
the East--. A Bed of full- grown Nettles
from the West--. Before us ran the
murmuring brook and behind us ran the turn-pike road. We were in a mood for contemplation and in a
Disposition to enjoy so beautifull a spot.
A mutual silence which had for some time reigned between us, was at
length broke by my exclaiming--"What a lovely scene! Alas why are not Edward and Augustus here to
enjoy its Beauties with us?"
"Ah! my beloved Laura (cried Sophia) for pity's
sake forbear recalling to my remembrance the unhappy situation of my imprisoned
Husband. Alas, what would I not give to
learn the fate of my Augustus! to know
if he is still in Newgate, or if he is yet hung. But never shall I be able so far to conquer my
tender sensibility as to enquire after him.
Oh! do not I beseech you ever let
me again hear you repeat his beloved name--. It affects me too deeply --. I cannot bear to hear him mentioned it wounds
my feelings." "Excuse me my Sophia for having thus unwillingly
offended you--" replied I--and then changing the conversation, desired her
to admire the noble Grandeur of the Elms which sheltered us from the Eastern
Zephyr. "Alas! my Laura (returned she) avoid so melancholy a
subject, I intreat you. Do not again
wound my Sensibility by observations on those elms.
They remind me of Augustus. He
was like them, tall, magestic--he possessed that noble grandeur which you
admire in them."
I
was silent, fearfull lest I might any more unwillingly distress her by fixing
on any other subject of conversation which might again remind her of Augustus. "Why
do you not speak my Laura? (said she
after a short pause) "I cannot support this silence you must not leave me
to my own reflections; they ever recur to Augustus." "What a
beautifull sky! (said I) How charmingly
is the azure varied by those delicate streaks of white!" "Oh! my Laura (replied she hastily withdrawing her
Eyes from a momentary glance at the sky) do not thus distress me by calling my
Attention to an object which so cruelly reminds me of my Augustus's blue sattin
waistcoat striped in white! In pity to your
unhappy freind avoid a subject so distressing." What could I do? The
feelings of Sophia were at that time so exquisite, and the tenderness she felt
for Augustus so poignant that I had not power to start any other topic, justly
fearing that it might in some unforseen manner again awaken all her sensibility
by directing her thoughts to her Husband.
Yet to be silent would be cruel; she had intreated me to talk. From this
Dilemma I was most fortunately releived by an accident truly apropos; it was
the lucky overturning of a Gentleman's Phaeton, on the road which ran murmuring
behind us. It was a most fortunate accident
as it diverted the attention of Sophia from the melancholy reflections which
she had been before indulging. We
instantly quitted our seats and ran to the rescue of those who but a few
moments before had been in so elevated a situation as a fashionably high
Phaeton, but who were now laid low and sprawling in the Dust. "What an ample subject for reflection on
the uncertain Enjoyments of this World, would not that Phaeton and the Life of
Cardinal Wolsey afford a thinking Mind!" said I to Sophia as we were
hastening to the field of Action. She
had not time to answer me, for every thought was now engaged by the horrid
spectacle before us. Two Gentlemen most
elegantly attired but weltering in their blood was what first struck our Eyes--we
approached--they were Edward and Augustus--. Yes dearest Marianne they were our
Husbands. Sophia shreiked and fainted on
the ground--I screamed and instantly ran mad. We remained thus mutually
deprived of our senses, some minutes, and on regaining them were deprived of
them again. For an Hour and a Quarter
did we continue in this unfortunate situation--Sophia fainting every moment and
I running mad as often. At length a
groan from the hapless Edward (who alone retained any share of life) restored us
to ourselves.
Had
we indeed before imagined that either of them lived, we should have been more
sparing of our Greif--but as we had supposed when we first beheld them that
they were no more, we knew that nothing could remain to be done but what we
were about. No sooner did we therefore hear my Edward's groan than postponing our
lamentations for the present, we hastily ran to the Dear Youth and kneeling on
each side of him implored him not to die--. "Laura (said He fixing his now
languid Eyes on me) I fear I have been overturned." I was overjoyed to
find him yet sensible.
"Oh! tell me Edward (said I) tell me I beseech you
before you die, what has befallen you since that unhappy Day in which Augustus
was arrested and we were separated--" "I will" (said he) and instantly
fetching a deep sigh, expired. Sophia immediately sank again into a swoon. MY greif was more audible. My Voice faltered, My Eyes assumed a vacant
stare, my face became as pale as Death, and my senses were considerably impaired.
"Talk not to me of Phaetons (said I, raving in a frantic, incoherent
manner)--Give me a violin. I'll play to
him and sooth him in his melancholy Hours--Beware ye gentle Nymphs of Cupid's
Thunderbolts, avoid the piercing shafts of Jupiter—Look at that grove of
Firs--I see a Leg of Mutton--They told me Edward was not Dead; but they
deceived me--they took him for a cucumber--" Thus I continued wildly
exclaiming on my Edward's Death--. For two Hours did I rave thus madly…”
END
QUOTE FROM “Love and Freindship”
Cheers,
ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode
on Twitter
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