Aunt Zeze’s Tears
The truth is that Maria-José (Aunt Zézé ) was suffering from the disappointment of unrequited romantic passion. She had fallen in love with Monjardin, a poet and great friend of her brother-in-law, Fabio. Monjardin came to the house every Sunday. Monjardin, without knowing it, had conquered the heart of Zézé… Champagne sparkled in the glasses and toasts were given. Finally Monjardin arose and unfolded a manuscript, asking permission to declaim the verses which he had composed in honor of Maria-José, the central figure of the occasion. The guests greeted his remarks with noisy and enthusiastic approbation. Monjardin, the center of all eyes, made pompous preparation; he pulled down his vest, arranged his sleeves and, in sonorous, cadenced voice began to recite his alexandrines, scanning the lines impeccably. His poem opened with a eulogy of the ineffable virtue, compounded of self-abnegation and chastity, that distinguished the angelic creature who, with her white tutelary wings, watched over the happiness of his dear friend's love nest. He then recalled that the date of this day commemorated the happy birth of a being of immaculate purity, Maria-José, a veritable saint who had renounced all her own aspirations so that she might consecrate herself entirely to the duties of her sister's family, devoted tenderness as aunt and sister. As he came to a close, the poet raised his cup of sparkling wine and, in exalted voice, drank to the health of Zézé amidst the loud huzzahs of all present. "Long live Aunt Zézé! Hurrah for Aunt Zézé!" cried the children. Maria-José, as soon as she had seized the significance of Monjardin's verses, had grown deathly pale; stricken by sudden disillusionment, she felt a glacial chill overwhelm her body to the very marrow. A veil of tears spread before her sight.... In vain she tried to repress them, to force a smile of thanks upon her face. The smile wrinkled into a dolorous grimace; she succeeded only in convulsing her contracted visage with the sobs that she sought to restrain. Overcome at last, humiliated, powerless, she broke into tears, and this unforeseen denouement put an end at once to all the pleasure of the dinner. "Zézé! Zézé! What ails you?...What is the trouble?... A nervous attack, perhaps?...Confusion produced in her by the touching poem?... Finally they raised Maria-José's head and bathed it in cool water; whereupon the face of the poor old maid stood revealed in all the ugliness that her spasms of convulsive weeping cast over it, with her large aquiline nose, her protruding eyes and her livid lips... And now Monjardin drew near. Delicately raising the icy fingers of Maria-José he lifted them to the edge of his perfumed moustache and placed upon them a grateful kiss; then, turning to Engracigna's daughters he said, with a solemn, self-complacent tone, "Aunt Zézé's tears are the most beautiful homage that could be rendered to my poor verses."
Which MOST CLEARLY reveals irony?
A. "Long live Aunt Zézé! Hurrah for Aunt Zézé!" cried the children.
B. The guests greeted his remarks with noisy and enthusiastic approbation.
C. "Aunt Zézé's tears are the most beautiful homage that could be rendered to my poor verses."
D. The truth is that Maria-José (Aunt Zézé ) was suffering from the disappointment of unrequited romantic passion.