Oroonoko: 5. Oroonoko’s Revenge Summary & Analysis

As fast as gossip spreads through the colony, truth travels just as fast. No doubt the women feel outraged at the turn of events, and may even feel some shame for abandoning their victimized friend. Caesar has lost hope in returning home or living happily with Imoinda, and now only hopes to avenge his honor by killing his enemy.

The Parhamites reason that killing Caesar would send the ultimate message to the slaves, especially since he is their leader and a symbol of hope to the slave community. They do not believe that slaves will respond to kindness, unlike more merciful masters like Trefry. Behn again suggests a hierarchy even among the white colonists, with Parham’s gang consisting of convicts and lower-class “villains,” while the nobility are portrayed as more virtuous.

The meeting of the Parhamites is the foil to the gathering of Caesar’s friends. While the former want Caesar dead, the latter are trying to keep him alive. Importantly, both of these meetings are taking place in Parham House, now a house divided against itself over the issue of a slave’s life.

Though the narrator leaves readers in suspense as to what Caesar is planning to do, it is easy to guess from the tone of the narrative and the narrator’s apprehension that Caesar is planning to take a dire and irreversible step: murdering his wife and unborn child, rather than leaving them to the mercy of their enemies.

Both Caesar and Imoinda’s reactions to Caesar’s plan are surprising. Caesar, who has usually been stoic and strong, reveals his emotional vulnerability in a way he never has before, despite the many tragedies of his life. Imoinda, rather than being shocked and horrified, as a British woman might be, is supportive and encouraging. Imoinda’s calmness more than Caesar’s meltdown demonstrates how vastly different Coramantien culture is from British culture—or else shows how Imoinda is truly Caesar’s partner, and the only one who shares his strict sense of honor, virtue, and courage. This is the ultimate reconciliation of love and obedience for Imoinda.

Caesar’s vendetta is now the driving force behind his will to live. Whereas killing Imoinda was an act of love, killing Byam will be an act of justice, which he needs to complete so that Imoinda’s death was not in vain.

Once again, Caesar’s emotional distress wreaks havoc on his physical health. Unlike his previous bouts of malaise, however, he has finally reached his breaking point because now he has lost everything. His grief, like everything else about him, is epic in proportion.

Tuscan’s reconciliation with Byam proves that Tuscan to is a “degenerate” like the other slaves. This is yet another kind of betrayal, and means that any hope for a future resistance (without Caesar) is gone.

Though Caesar may look the part of a monster, Behn suggests that Byam is the true monster because of his treachery and sadistic cruelty. Caesar’s overwhelming grief has sabotaged his own quest for revenge, but even in his weakened state he is still dangerous.

Again Behn emphasizes the moral degeneracy of the Parhamites by showing their cowardice here—they are afraid to attack Caesar even in his weakened state. Caesar apparently adopts the war practices of the natives to prove his fearlessness, or else he has just been driven mad by rage and grief, and wants to destroy something, even if it is himself.

Tuscan’s apology for his disloyalty comes too late. Caesar has never before had the chance to confront someone who has double-crossed him and the fact that he tries to kill Tuscan by whatever means he can shows that Caesar considers betrayal the greatest possible offense. Tuscan, for his part, at least shows remorse and redeems himself through this act of desperate courage.

Caesar won’t survive his wounds, but the surgeon keeps him alive long enough for him to be tortured again. At this point Caesar only wants to die, hoping to avoid further indignity and to be reunited with Imoinda.

It is interesting that the only man willing to take preliminary action in Caesar’s death is Irish, not English. This could be indicative of Behn’s prejudice against the Irish, or a stereotype of them as “wild” or violent. The whipping post and the fire are ominous signs that Caesar’s end is near. Once again Byam tricks even his fellow colonists as part of his vendetta against Caesar.

Banister is now openly hostile towards Caesar, which Caesar ironically appreciates after all the deceitful white colonists he has met. Banister leaves Caesar no doubt about his fate, and this is a comfort the dying man.

Caesar wants to be murdered both because he longs for death and because accepting his death with honor is the last way he can rebel against his captors. That he is able to goad his captors by warning them to bind him demonstrates his calmness and his pride even in such a dire situation.

Caesar’s last act is to defy Western culture by showing up the colonists and mocking their leisurely pursuits. By smoking a pipe while the executioner slowly cuts him up, he proves his bravado and courage even through passive action. The “ill-favored” knife the executioner uses is likely rusty and dull, probably chosen by Byam to cause Caesar the most pain possible.

Though Byam is ruthless and cruel, the punishment he inflicts on the women won’t be as bad as what he could inflict on a slave. After all, the women are English subjects with human rights.

While he was alive, Caesar’s body represented the pinnacle of beauty and nobility, and people flocked to see his beauty. Now that he is dead, however, his body has become a tool to repulse and instill fear in others. Though the kinder slave-owners deplore these scare tactics, Caesar’s death is still not enough to make them reconsider their participation in slavery.

Ironically, the narrator ends her narrative by continuing to call Oroonoko “Caesar,” despite the title of the work and her proclaimed quest to preserve his “glorious name.” The name “Imoinda,” on the other hand, the narrator uses consistently throughout, and even chooses as the last word of her work. Perhaps this is Behn’s way of subtly commenting on a surprising difference between her hero and heroine: Imoinda is, in some ways, even braver and more constant than Caesar himself. Once again, Behn makes no effort to condemn slavery as a whole, but only deplores Caesar’s fate as a tragedy because he was so “glorious” and royal.