In this passage, the author primarily uses dialogue
A.
to clarify the setting.
B.
to reinforce the theme.
C.
to reveal the characters' inner thoughts.
D.
to set the mood of the passage.
E.
to develop the conflict.***
That said, it was fun to read :)
E. to develop the conflict.
Thank you! I'll avoid doing that then.
Well, well, well, looks like we've got a multiple-choice question here! And what better way to answer it than with a little clown humor? Ready? Here we go!
E. to develop the conflict. Because let's face it, dialogue is the perfect tool for characters to argue, disagree, or just plain old bicker. And what's a story without a little conflict, right? It keeps things interesting and gives us something to laugh about... or cry about, depending on the situation. So, go ahead and choose option E, and let the verbal fireworks begin!
Excerpt from Chapter XXVI of Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
"I require and charge you both (as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment, when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed), that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not lawfully be joined together in matrimony, ye do now confess it; for be ye well assured that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow, are not joined together by God, neither is their matrimony lawful."
He paused, as the custom is. When is the pause after that sentence ever broken by reply? Not, perhaps, once in a hundred years. And the clergyman, who had not lifted his eyes from his book, and had held his breath but for a moment, was proceeding: his hand was already stretched towards Mr. Rochester, as his lips unclosed to ask, "Wilt thou have this woman for thy wedded wife?"—when a distinct and near voice said—
"The marriage cannot go on: I declare the existence of an impediment."
The clergyman looked up at the speaker and stood mute; the clerk did the same; Mr. Rochester moved slightly, as if an earthquake had rolled under his feet: taking a firmer footing, and not turning his head or eyes, he said, "Proceed."
Profound silence fell when he had uttered that word, with deep but low intonation. Presently Mr. Wood said—
"I cannot proceed without some investigation into what has been asserted, and evidence of its truth or falsehood."
"The ceremony is quite broken off," subjoined the voice behind us. "I am in a condition to prove my allegation: an insuperable impediment to this marriage exists."
Mr. Rochester heard, but heeded not: he stood stubborn and rigid, making no movement but to possess himself of my hand. What a hot and strong grasp he had! and how like quarried marble was his pale, firm, massive front at this moment! How his eye shone, still watchful, and yet wild beneath!
Mr. Wood seemed at a loss. "What is the nature of the impediment?" he asked. "Perhaps it may be got over—explained away?"
"Hardly," was the answer. "I have called it insuperable, and I speak advisedly."
The speaker came forward and leaned on the rails. He continued, uttering each word distinctly, calmly, steadily, but not loudly—
"It simply consists in the existence of a previous marriage. Mr. Rochester has a wife now living."
My nerves vibrated to those low-spoken words as they had never vibrated to thunder—my blood felt their subtle violence as it had never felt frost or fire; but I was collected, and in no danger of swooning. I looked at Mr. Rochester: I made him look at me. His whole face was colourless rock: his eye was both spark and flint. He disavowed nothing: he seemed as if he would defy all things. Without speaking, without smiling, without seeming to recognise in me a human being, he only twined my waist with his arm and riveted me to his side.
"Who are you?" he asked of the intruder.
"My name is Briggs, a solicitor of --- Street, London."
"And you would thrust on me a wife?"
"I would remind you of your lady's existence, sir, which the law recognises, if you do not."
"Favour me with an account of her—with her name, her parentage, her place of abode."
"Certainly." Mr. Briggs calmly took a paper from his pocket, and read out in a sort of official, nasal voice:—
"'I affirm and can prove that on the 20th of October A.D. --- (a date of fifteen years back), Edward Fairfax Rochester, of Thornfield Hall, in the county of ---, and of Ferndean Manor, in ---shire, England, was married
to my sister, Bertha Antoinetta Mason, daughter of Jonas Mason, merchant, and of Antoinetta his wife, a Creole, at --- church, Spanish Town, Jamaica. The record of the marriage will be found in the register of that church—a copy of it is now in my possession. Signed, Richard Mason.'"
"That—if a genuine document—may prove I have been married, but it does not prove that the woman mentioned therein as my wife is still living."
"She was living three months ago," returned the lawyer.
"How do you know?"
"I have a witness to the fact, whose testimony even you, sir, will scarcely controvert."
"Produce him—or go to hell."
"I will produce him first—he is on the spot. Mr. Mason, have the goodness to step forward."
Mr. Rochester, on hearing the name, set his teeth; he experienced, too, a sort of strong convulsive quiver; near to him as I was, I felt the spasmodic movement of fury or despair run through his frame. The second stranger, who had hitherto lingered in the background, now drew near; a pale face looked over the solicitor's shoulder—yes, it was Mason himself. Mr. Rochester turned and glared at him. His eye, as I have often said, was a black eye: it had now a tawny, nay, a bloody light in its gloom; and his face flushed—olive cheek and hueless forehead
received a glow as from spreading, ascending heart-fire: and he stirred, lifted his strong arm—he could have struck Mason, dashed him on the church-floor, shocked by ruthless blow the breath from his body—but Mason shrank away, and cried faintly, "Good God!" Contempt fell cool on Mr. Rochester—his passion died as if a blight had shrivelled it up: he only asked—"What have _you_ to say?"
An inaudible reply escaped Mason's white lips.
"The devil is in it if you cannot answer distinctly. I again demand, what have you to say?"
"Sir—sir," interrupted the clergyman, "do not forget you are in a sacred place." Then addressing Mason, he inquired gently, "Are you aware, sir, whether or not this gentleman's wife is still living?"
"Courage," urged the lawyer,—"speak out."
"She is now living at Thornfield Hall," said Mason, in more articulate tones: "I saw her there last April. I am her brother."
To determine the correct answer, let's first understand the purpose of dialogue in literature. Dialogue is a literary technique used by authors to depict conversations between characters. It serves various purposes, including generating conflict, conveying information, revealing character traits, advancing the plot, and providing insight into the characters' inner thoughts and emotions.
In this case, the primary use of dialogue is being asked. To do so, we should look at how dialogue is being used in the passage. Does it clarify the setting, reinforce the theme, reveal the characters' inner thoughts, set the mood, or develop the conflict?
From the given options, the most appropriate answer is "E. to develop the conflict." Dialogue often represents the clash of ideas, opinions, or goals among characters, which creates conflict and tension in a story. By using dialogue, the author can showcase differing perspectives and conflicting desires, which helps to advance the conflict and drive the story forward.
Therefore, the author primarily uses dialogue in the passage to develop the conflict.