THOMAS HARDY-ANDREY SATCHEL AND THE PARSON AND CLERK

Andrey Satchel and the Parson and Clerk

'It all arose, you must know, from Andrey being fond of a drop of drink at that time – though he's a sober enough man now by all account, so much the better for him. Jane, his bride, you see, was somewhat older than Andrey; how much older I don't pretend to say; she was not one of our parish, and the register alone may be able to tell that. But, at any rate, her being a little ahead of her young man in mortal years, coupled with other bodily circumstances owing to that young man – '

('Ah, poor thing!' sighed the women.)

'– made her very anxious to get the thing done before he changed his mind; and 'twas with a joyful countenance (they say) that she, with Andrey and his brother and sister-in-law, marched off to church one November morning as soon as 'twas day a'most, to be made one with Andrey for the rest of her life. He had left our place long before it was light, and the folks that were up all waved their lanterns at him, and flung up their hats as he went.

'The church of her parish was a mile and more from where she lived, and, as it was a wonderful fine day for the time of year, the plan was that as soon as they were married they would make out a holiday by driving straight off to Port Bredy, to see the ships and the sea and the sojers, instead of coming back to a meal at the house of the distant relation she lived wi', and moping about there all the afternoon.

'Well, some folks noticed that Andrey walked with rather wambling steps to church that morning; the truth o't was that his nearest neighbour's child had been christened the day before, and Andrey, having stood godfather, had stayed all night keeping up the christening, for he had said to himself, "Not if I live to be a thousand shall I again be made a godfather one day, and a husband the next, and perhaps a father the next, and therefore I'll make the most of the blessing." So that when he started from home in the morning he had not been in bed at all. The result was, as I say, that when he and his bride-to-be walked up the church to get married, the pa'son (who was a very strict man inside the church, whatever he was outside) looked hard at Andrey, and said, very sharp:

' "How's this, my man? You are in liquor. And so early, too. I'm ashamed of you!"

' "Well, that's true, sir," says Andrey. "But I can walk straight enough for practical purposes. I can walk a chalk line," he says (meaning no offence), "as well as some other folk: and – " (getting hotter) – "I reckon that if you, Pa'son Billy Too good, had kept up a christening all night so thoroughly as I have done, you wouldn't be able to stand at all; d – me if you would!"

'This answer made Pa'son Billy – as they used to call him– rather spitish, not to say hot, for he was a warm-tempered man if provoked, and he said, very decidedly: "Well, I cannot marry you in this state; and I will not! Go home and get sober!' And he slapped the book together like a rat-trap.

'Then the bride burst out crying as if her heart would break, for very fear that she would lose Andrey after all her hard work to get him, and begged and implored the pa'son to go on with the ceremony. But no.

' "I won't be a party to your solemnizing matrimony with a tipsy man," says Mr. Too good. "It is not right and decent. I am sorry for you, my young woman, seeing the condition you are in, but you'd better go home again. I wonder how you could think of bringing him here drunk like this!"

' "But if – if he don't come drunk he won't come at all, sir!" she says, through her sobs.

' "I can't help that," says the pa'son; and plead as she might, it did not move him. Then she tried him another way.

' "Well, then, if you'll go home, sir, and leave us here, and come back to the church in an hour or two, I'll undertake to say that he shall be as sober as a judge," she cries. "We'll bide here, with your permission; for if he once goes out of this here church unmarried, all Van Amburgh's horses won't drag him back again!"

' "Very well," says the parson. "I'll give you two hours, and then I'll return."

' "And please, sir, lock the door, so that we can't escape!" says she.

' "Yes," says the parson.

' "And let nobody know that we are here."

'The pa'son then took off his clane white surplice, and went away; and the others consulted upon the best means for keeping the matter a secret, which it was not a very hard thing to do, the place being so lonely, and the hour so early. The witnesses, Andrey's brother and brother's wife, neither one o' which cared about Andrey's marrying Jane, and had come rather against their will, said they couldn't wait two hours in that hole of a place, wishing to get home to Longpuddle before dinner-time. They were altogether so crusty that the clerk said there was no difficulty in their doing as they wished. They could go home as if their brother's wedding had actually taken place and the married couple had gone onward for their day's pleasure jaunt to Port Bredy as intended. He, the clerk, and any casual passer-by would act as witnesses when the pa'son came back.

'This was agreed to, and away Andrey's relations went, nothing loath, and the clerk shut the church door and prepared to lock in the couple. The bride went up and whispered to him, with her eyes a-streaming still.

' "My dear good clerk," she says, "if we bide here in the church, folk may see us through the windows, and find out what has happened; and 'twould cause such a talk and scandal that I never should get over it: and perhaps, too, dear Andrey might try to get out and leave me! Will ye lock us up in the tower, my dear good clerk?" she says. I'll tole him in there if you will."

'The clerk had no objection to do this to oblige the poor young woman, and they toled Andrey into the tower, and the clerk locked 'em both up straightway, and then went home, to return at the end of the two hours.

'Pa'son Toogood had not been long in his house after leaving the church when he saw a gentleman in pink and top– boots ride past his windows, and with a sudden flash of heat he called to mind that the hounds met that day just on the edge of his parish. The pa'son was one who dearly loved sport, and much he longed to be there.

'In short, except o' Sundays and at tide-times in the week, Pa'son Billy was the life o' the Hunt. 'Tis true that he was poor, and that he rode all of a heap, and that his black mare was rat-tailed and old, and his tops older, and all over of one colour, whitey-brown, and full o' cracks. But he'd been in at the death of three thousand foxes. And – being a bachelor man – every time he went to bed in summer he used to open the bed at bottom and crawl up head foremost, to mind en of the coming winter and the good sport he'd have, and the foxes going to earth. And whenever there was a christening at the Squire's, and he had dinner there afterwards, as he always did, he never failed to christen the chiel over again in a bottle of port wine.

'Now the clerk was the parson's groom and gardener and general manager, and had just got back to his work in the garden when he, too, saw the hunting man pass, and presently saw lots more of 'em, noblemen andgentry, and then he saw the hounds, the huntsman, Jim Treadhedge, the whipper – in, and I don't know who besides. The clerk loved going to cover as frantical as the pa'son, so much so that whenever he saw or heard the pack he could no more rule his feelings than if they were the winds of heaven. He might be bedding, or he might be sowing– all was forgot. So he throws down his spade and rushes in to the pa'son, who was by this time as frantical to go as he.

' "That there mare of yours, sir, do want exercise bad, very bad, this morning!" the clerk says, all of a tremble. "Don't ye think I'd better trot her round the downs for an hour, sir?"

' "To be sure, she does want exercise badly. I'll trot her round myself," says the parson.

' "Oh – you'll trot her yerself? Well, there's the cob, sir. Really that cobis getting oncontrollable through biding in a stable so long! If you wouldn't mind my putting on the saddle – "

' "Very well. Take him out, certainly," says the pa'son, never caring what the clerk did so long as he himself could get off immediately. So, scrambling into his riding-boots and breeches as quick as he could, he rode off towards the meet, intending to be back in an hour. No sooner was he gone than the clerk mounted the cob, and was off after him. When the pa'son got to the meet he found a lot of friends, and was as jolly as he could be: the hounds found a'most as soon as they threw off, and there was great excitement. So, forgetting that he had meant to go back at once, away rides the pa'son with the rest o' the hunt, all across the fallow ground that lies between Lippet Wood and Green's Copse; and as he galloped he looked behind for a moment, and there was the clerk close to his heels.

' "Ha, ha, clerk – you here?" he says.

' "Yes, Sir, here be I," says t'other.

' "Fine exercise for the horses!"

' "Ay, sir – hee, hee!" says the clerk.

'So they went on and on, into Green's Copse, then across to Higher Jirton; then on across this very turnpike – road to Waterston Ridge, then away towards Yalbury Wood: up hill and down dale, like the very wind, the clerk close to the pa'son, and the pa'son not far from the hounds. Never was there a finer run knowed with that pack than they had that day; and neither pa'son nor clerk thought one word about the unmarried couple locked up in the church tower waiting to get j'ined.

' "These hosses of yours, Sir, will be much improved by this!" says the clerk as he rode along, just a neck behind the pa'son. " 'Twas a happy thought of your reverent mind to bring 'em out to-day. Why, it may be frosty and slippery in a day or two, and then the poor things mid not be able to leave the stable for weeks." '

"They may not, they may not, it is true. A merciful man is merciful to his beast," says the pa'son.

' "Hee, hee!" says the clerk, glancing sly into the pa'son's eye.

' "Ha, ha!" says the pa'son, a-glancing back into the clerk's.

"Halloo!" he shouts, as he sees the fox break cover at that moment. ' "Halloo!" cries the clerk. "There he goes! Why, dammy, there's two foxes – "

' "Hush, clerk, hush! Don't let me hear that word again! Remember our calling."

' "True, sir, true. But really, good sport do carry away a man so, that he's apt to forget his high persuasion!" And the next minute the corner o fthe clerk's eye shot again into the corner of the pa'son's, and the pa'son's back again to the clerk's. "Hee, hee!" said the clerk.

' "Ha, ha! " said Pa'son Toogood.

' "Ah, sir," says the clerk again, "this is better than crying Amen to your Ever-and-ever on a winter's morning!"

' "Yes, indeed, clerk! To everything there's a season," says Pa'son Toogood, quite pat, for he was a learned Christian man when he liked, and had chapter and ve'se at his tongue's end, as a pa'son should.

'At last, late in the day, the hunting came to an end by the fox running into a' old woman's cottage, under her table, and up the clock-case. The pa'son and clerk were among the first in at the death, their faces a-staring in at the old woman's winder, and the clock striking as he'd never been heard to strik' before. Then came the question of finding their way home.

'Neither the pa'son nor the clerk knowed how they were going to do this, for their beasts were well– nigh tired down to the ground. But they started back – along as well as they could, though they were so done up that they could only drag along at a' amble, and not much of that at a time.

' "We shall never, never get there!" groaned Mr. Toogood, quite bowed down.

' "Never!" groans the clerk. " 'Tis a judgment upon us for our iniquities!"

' "I fear it is," murmurs the pa'son.

'Well, 'twas quite dark afore they entered pa’sonage gate, having crept into the parish as quiet if they'd stole a hammer, little wishing their congregation to know what they'd been up to all day long. And as they were so dog-tired, and so anxious about the horses, never once did they think of the unmarried couple. As soon as ever the horses had been stabled and fed, and the pa'son and clerk had had a bit and a sup theirselves, they went to bed.

'Next morning when Pa'son Toogood was at breakfast, thinking of the glorious sport he'd had the day before, the clerk came in a hurry to the door and asked to see him.

' "It has just come into my mind, sir, that we've forgot all about the couple that we was to have married yesterday!"

'The half-chawed victuals dropped from the pa'son's mouth as if he'd been shot. "Bless my soul," says he, so we have! How very awkward!"

' "It is, sir; very. Perhaps we've ruined the 'ooman!"

' "Ah – to be sure – I remember! She ought to have been married before."

' "If anything has happened to her up in that there tower, and no doctor or nuss – "

('Ah – poor thing!' sighed the women.)

' "– 'twill be a quarter – sessions matter for us, not to speak of the disgrace to the Church!"

' "Good God, clerk, don't drive me wild!" says the pa'son. " Why the hell didn't I marry 'em, drunk or sober!" (Pa'sons used to cuss in them days like plain honest men.) "Have you been to the church to see what happened to them, or inquired in the village?"

' "Not I, sir! It only came into my head a moment ago, and I always like to be second to you in church matters. You could have knocked me down with a sparrow's feather when I thought o't, sir; I assure 'ee you could!"

'Well, the pa'son jumped up from his breakfast, and together they went off to the church.

' "It is not at all likely that they are there now, "says Mr. Toogood, as they went; "and indeed I hope they are not. They be pretty sure to have escaped and gone home."

However, they opened the church-hatch, entered the churchyard, and looking up at the tower there they seed a little small white face at the belfry-winder, and a little small hand waving. 'Twas the bride.

' "God my life, clerk," says Mr. Toogood, "I don't know how to face 'em!" And he sank down upon a tombstone. "How I wish I hadn't been so cussed particular!"

' "Yes – 'twas a pity we didn't finish it when we'd begun," the clerk said. "Still, since the feelings of your holy priest craft wouldn't let ye, the couple must put up with it."

' "True, clerk, true! Does she look as if anything premature had took place?"

' "I can't see her no lower down than her arm-pits, sir."

' "Well – how do her face look?"

' "It do look mighty white!"

' "Well, we must know the worst! Dear me, how the small of my back do ache from that ride yesterday! . . . But to more godly business!"

'They went on into the church, and unlocked the tower stairs, and immediately poor Jane and Andrey busted out like starved mice from a cupboard, Andrey limp and sober enough now, and his bride pale and cold, but otherwise as usual.

' "What," says the pa'son, with a great breath of relief, "you haven' t been here ever since?"

' "Yes, we have, sir!" says the bride, sinking down upon a seat in her weakness. "Not a morsel, wet or dry, have we had since! It was impossible to get out without help, and here we've stayed!"

' "But why didn't you shout, good souls?" said the pa'son.

' "She wouldn't let me," says Andrey.

' "Because we were so ashamed at what had led to it," sobs Jane. "We felt that if it were noised abroad it would cling to us all our lives! Once or twice Andrey had a good mind to toll the bell, but then he said: "No; I'll starve first. I won't bring disgrace on my name and yours, my dear." And so we waited and waited, and walked round and round; but never did you come till now!"

' "To my regret!" says the parson. "Now, then, we will soon get it over."

' "I – I should like some victuals," said Andrey; " 'twould gie me courage to do it, if it is only a crust o' bread and a' onion; for I am that leery that I can feel my stomach rubbing against my backbone."

' "I think we had better get it done," said the bride, a bit anxious in manner; " since we are all here convenient, too!"

'Andrey gave way about the victuals, and the clerk called in a second witness who wouldn't be likely to gossip about it, and soon the knot wastied, and the bride looked smiling and calm forthwith, and Andrey limper than ever.

' "Now," said Pa'son Toogood, "you two must come to my house, and have a good lining put to your insides before you go a step further."

'They were very glad of the offer, and went out of the churchyard by one path while the pa'son and clerk went out by the other, and so did not attract notice, it being still early. They entered the rectory as if they'd just come back from their trip to Port Bredy; and then they knocked in the victuals and drink till they could hold no more.

'It was a long while before the story of what they had gone through was known, but it was talked of in time, and they themselves laugh over it now; though what Jane got for her pains was no great bargain after all. 'Tis true she saved her name.'

'Was that the same Andrey who went to the squire's house as one of the Christmas fiddlers?' asked the seedsman.

'No, no,' replied Mr. Profitt, the schoolmaster. 'It was his father did that. Ay, it was all owing to his being such a man for eating and drinking. 'Finding that he had the ear of the audience, the schoolmaster continued without delay: –

THOMAS HARDLY- A FEW CRUSTED CHARACTERS A SHORT STORY

A Few Crusted Characters

Introduction

It is a Saturday afternoon of blue and yellow autumn-time, and the scene is the High Street of a well-known market-town. A large carrier's van stands in the quadrangular fore-court of the White Hart Inn, upon the sides of its spacious tilt being painted, in weather-beaten letters: 'Burthen, Carrier to Longpuddle.' These vans, so numerous hereabout, are a respectable, if somewhat lumbering, class of conveyance, much resorted to by decent travellers not overstocked with money, the better among them roughly corresponding to the old French diligences.

The present one is timed to leave the town at four in the afternoon precisely, and it is now half-past three by the clock in the turret at the top of the street. In a few seconds errand-boys from the shops begin to arrive with packages, which they fling into the vehicle, and turn away whistling and care for the packages no more. At twenty minutes to four an elderly woman places her basket upon the shafts, slowly mounts, takes p a seat inside, and folds her hands and her lips. She has secured her corner for the journey, though there is as yet no sign of a horse being put in, nor of a carrier. At the three-quarters, two other women arrive, in whom the first recognizes the postmistress of Upper Longpuddle and the registrar's wife, they recognizing her as the aged groceress of the same village. At five minutes to the hour there approach Mr. Profitt, the schoolmaster, in a soft felt hat, and Christopher Twink, the master-thatcher; and as the hour strikes there rapidly drop in the parish clerk and his wife, the seedsman and his aged father, the registrar; also Mr. Day, the world-ignored local landscape-painter, an elderly man who resides in his native place, and has never sold a picture outside it, though his pretensions to art have been nobly supported by his fellow-villagers, whose confidence in his genius has been as remarkable as the outer neglect of it, leading them to buy his paintings so extensively (at a price of a few shillings each, it is true) that every dwelling in the parish exhibits three or four of those admired productions on its walls.

Burthen, the carrier, is by this time seen bustling round the vehicle; the horses are put in, the proprietor arranges the reins and springs up into his seat as if he were used to it—which he is.

'Is everybody here?' he asks preparatorily over his shoulder to the passengers within.

As those who were not there did not reply in the negative the muster was assumed to be complete, and after a few hitches and hindrances the van with its human freight was got under way. It jogged on at an easy pace till it reached the bridge which formed the last outpost of the town. The carrier pulled up suddenly.

'Bless my soul!' he said, 'I've forgot the curate!'

All who could do so gazed from the little back window of the van, but the curate was not in sight.

'Now I wonder where that there man is?' continued the carrier.

'Poor man, he ought to have a living at his time of life.'

'And he ought to be punctual,' said the carrier.

'"Four O'clock sharp is my time for starting," I said to 'en. And he said, " I'll be there." Now he's not here; and as a serious old church-minister he ought to be as good as his word. Perhaps Mr. Flaxton knows, being in the same line of life?' He turned to the parish clerk.

'I was talking an immense deal with him, that's true, half an hour ago,' replied that ecclesiastic, as one of whom it was no erroneous supposition that he should be on intimate terms with another of the cloth. 'But he didn't say he would be late.'

The discussion was cut off by the appearance round the corner of the van of rays from the curate's spectacles, followed hastily by his face and a few white whiskers, and the swinging tails of his long gaunt coat. Nobody reproached him, seeing how he was reproaching himself; and he entered breathlessly and took his seat.

'Now be we all here?' said the carrier again. They started a second time, and moved on till they were about three hundred yards out of the town, and had nearly reached the second bridge, behind which, as every native remembers, the road takes a turn, and travellers by this highway disappear finally from the view of gazing burghers.

'Well, as I'm alive!' cried the postmistress from the interior of the conveyance, peering through the little square back-window along the road townward.

'What?' said the carrier.

'A man hailing us!'

Another sudden stoppage. 'Somebody else?' the carrier asked.

'Ay, sure!' All waited silently, while those who could gaze out did so.

'Now, who can that be?' Burthen continued. 'I just put it to ye, neighbours, can any man keep time with such hindrances? Bain't we full a'ready? Who in the world can the man be?'

'He's a sort of gentleman,' said the schoolmaster, his position commanding the road more comfortably than that of his comrades.

The stranger, who had been holding up his umbrella to attract their notice, was walking forward leisurely enough, now that he found, by their stopping that it had been secured. His clothes were decidedly not of a local cut, though it was difficult to point out any particular mark of difference. In his left hand he carried a small leather travelling bag. As soon as he had overtaken the van he glanced at the inscription on its side, as if to assure himself that he had hailed the right conveyance, and asked if they had room.

The carrier replied that though they were pretty well laden he supposed they could carry one more, whereupon the stranger mounted, and took the seat cleared for him within. And then the horses made another move, this time for good, and swung along with their burden of fourteen souls all told.

'You bain't one of these parts, sir?' said the carrier. 'I could tell that as far as I could see 'ee.'

'Yes, I am one of these parts,' said the stranger.

'Oh? H'm.'

The silence which followed seemed to imply a doubt of the truth of the new-comer's assertion. (I was speaking of Upper Longpuddle more particular,' continued the carrier hardily, 'and I think I know most faces of that valley.'

'I was born at Longpuddle, and nursed at Longpuddle, and my father and grandfather before me,' said the passenger quietly

'Why, to be sure,' said the aged groceress in the background, 'it isn't John Lackland's son—never—it can't be he who went to foreign parts five-and-thirty years ago with his wife and family?—Yet—what do I hear?—that's his father's voice!'

'That's the man,' replied the stranger. 'John Lackland was my father, and I am John Lackland's son. Five-and-thirty years ago, when I was a boy of eleven, my parents emigrated across the seas, taking me and my sister with them. Kytes's boy Tony was the one who drove us and our belongings to Casterbridge on the morning we left; and his was the last Longpuddle face I saw. We sailed the same week across the ocean, and there we've been ever since, and there I've left those I went with—all three.'

'Alive or dead?'

'Dead,' he replied in a low voice. 'And I have come back to the old place, having nourished a thought—not a definite intention, but just a thought—that I should like to return here in a year or two, to spend the remainder of my days.'

'Married man, Mr. Lackland?'

'No.'

'And have the world used 'ee well, sir—or rather John, knowing 'ee as a child? In these rich new countries that we hear of so much, you've got rich with the rest?'

'I am not very rich,' Mr. Lackland said. 'Even in new countries, you know, there are failures. The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong; and even if it sometimes is, you may be neither swift nor strong. However, that's enough about me. Now, having answered your inquiries, you must answer mine; for being in London, I have come down here entirely to discover what Longpuddle is looking like, and who are living there. That was why I preferred a seat in your van to hiring a carriage for driving across.

'Well, as for Longpuddle, we rub on there much as usual. Old figures have dropped out o' their frames, so to speak it, and new ones have been put in their places. You mentioned Tony Kytes as having been the one to drive your family and your goods to Casterbridge in his father's wagon when you left. Tony is, I believe, living still, but not at Longpuddle. He went away and settled at Lewgate, near, Mellstock after his marriage. Ah, Tony was a sort o man!'

'His character had hardly come out when I knew him.'

'No. But 'twas well enough, as far as that goes—except as to women. I shall never forget his courting—never!'

The returned villager waited silently, and the carrier went on: —

THOMAS HARDY-THE FIDDLER OF THE REELS A SHORT STORY

The Fiddler of the Reels    

"Talking of Exhibitions, World's Fairs, and what not," said the old gentleman, "I would not go round the corner to see a dozen of them nowadays. The only exhibition that ever made, or ever will make, any impression upon my imagination was the first of the series, the parent of them all, and now a thing of old times—the Great Exhibition of 1851, in Hyde Park, London. None of the younger generation can realize the sense of novelty it produced in us who were then in our prime. A noun substantive went so far as to become an adjective in honor of the occasion. It was "exhibition" hat, "exhibition" razor-strop, "exhibition" watch; nay, even "exhibition" weather, "exhibition" spirits, sweethearts, babies, wives—for the time.      

"For South Wessex, the year formed in many ways an extraordinary chronological frontier or transit line, at which there occurred what one might call a precipice in time. As in a geological "fault," we had presented to us a sudden bringing of ancient and modern into absolute contact, such as probably in no other single year since the Conquest was ever witnessed in this part of the country."     

These observations led us onward to talk of the different personages, gentle and simple, who lived and moved within our narrow and peaceful horizon at that time; and of three people in particular, whose queer little history was oddly touched at points by the Exhibition, more concerned with it than that of anybody else who dwelt in those outlying shades of the world, Stickleford, Mellstock, and Egdon. First prominence among these three came Wat Ollamoor—if that were his real name—whom the seniors in our party had known well.      

He was a woman's man, they said,—supremely so—externally little else. To men he was not attractive; perhaps a little repulsive at times. Musician, dandy, and company-man in practice; veterinary surgeon in theory, he lodged awhile in Mellstock village, coming from nobody knew where; though some said his first appearance in this neighborhood had been as fiddle-player in a show at Greenhill Fair. Many a worthy villager envied him his power over unsophisticated maidenhood power which seemed sometimes to have a touch of the weird and wizardly in it. Personally he was not ill-favored, though rather un-English, his complexion being a rich olive, his rank hair dark and rather clammy—made still clammier by secret ointments, which, when he came fresh to a party, caused him to smell like "boys'-love"(southern-wood) steeped in lamp-oil. On occasion he wore curls—a double row—running almost horizontally around his head. But as these were sometimes noticeably absent, it was concluded that they were not altogether of Nature's making. By girls whose love for him had turned to hatred he had been nicknamed "Mop," from this abundance of hair, which was long enough to rest upon his shoulders; as time passed the name more and more prevailed.      

His fiddling possibly had the most to do with the fascination he exercised, for, to speak fairly, it could claim for itself a most peculiar and personal quality, like that in a moving preacher. There were tones in it which bred the immediate conviction that indolence and averseness to systematic application were all that lay between "Mop" and the career of a second Paganini.       

While playing he invariably closed his eyes; using no notes, and, as it were, allowing the violin to wander on at will into the most plaintive passages ever heard by rustic man. There was a certain lingual character in the supplicatory expressions he produced, which would well-nigh have drawn an ache from the heart of a gatepost. He could make any child in the parish, who was at all sensitive to music, burst into tears in a few minutes by simply fiddling one of the old dance-tunes he almost entirely affected—country jigs, reels, and "Favorite Quick Steps" of the last century—some mutilated remains of which even now reappear as nameless phantoms in new quadrilles and gallops, where they are recognized only by the curious, or by such old-fashioned and far—between people as have been thrown with men like Wat Ollamoor in their early life.         

His date was a little later than that of the old Mellstock quire-band which comprised the Dewys, Mail, and the rest—in fact, he did not rise above the horizon thereabout till those well-known musicians were disbanded as ecclesiastical functionaries. In their honest love of thoroughness they despised the new man's style. Theophilus Dewy (Reuben the tranter's younger brother) used to say there was no "plumness" in it—no bowing, no solidity—it was all fantastical. And probably this was true. Anyhow, Mop had, very obviously, never bowed a note of church-music from his birth; he never once sat in the gallery of Mellstock church where the others had tuned their venerable psalmody so many hundreds of times; had never, in all likelihood, entered a church at all. All were devil's tunes in his repertory. "He could no more play the Wold Hundredth to his true time than he could play the brazen serpent," the tranter would say. (The brazen serpent was supposed in Mellstock to be a musical instrument particularly hard to blow.)         

Occasionally Mop could produce the aforesaid moving effect upon the souls of grown-up persons, especially young women of fragile and responsive organization. Such an one was Car'line Aspent. Though she was already engaged to be married before she met him, Car'line, of them all, was the most influenced by Mop Ollamoor's heart-stealing melodies, to her discomfort, nay, positive pain and ultimate injury. She was a pretty, invocating, weak-mouthed girl, whose chief defect as a companion with her sex was a tendency to peevishness now and then. At this time she was not a resident in Mellstock parish where Mop lodged, but lived some miles off at Stickleford, further down the river.        

How and where she first made acquaintance with him and his fiddling is not truly known, but the story was that it either began or was developed on one spring evening, when, in passing through Lower Mellstock, she chanced to pause on the bridge near his house to rest herself, and languidly leaned over the parapet. Mop was standing on his door-step, as was his custom, spinning the insidious thread of semi- and demi-semiquavers from the E string of his fiddle for the benefit of passersby, and laughing as the tears rolled down the cheeks of the little children hanging around him. Car'line pretended to be engrossed with the rippling of the stream under the arches, but in reality she was listening, as he knew. Presently the aching of the heart seized her simultaneously with a wild desire to glide airily in the mazes of an infinite dance. To shake off the fascination she resolved to goon, although it would be necessary to pass him as he played. On stealthily glancing ahead at the performer, she found to her relief that his eyes were closed in abandonment to instrumentation, and she strode on boldly. But when closer her step grew timid, her head convulsed itself more and more accordantly with the time of the melody, till she very nearly danced along. Gaining another glance at him when immediately opposite, she saw that one of his eyes was open, quizzing her as he smiled at her emotional state. Her gait could not divest itself of its compelled capers till she had gone a long way past the house; and Car'line was unable to shake off the strange infatuation for hours.      

After that day, whenever there was to be in the neighborhood a dance to which she could get an invitation, and where Mop Ollamoor was to be the musician, Car'line contrived to be present, though it sometimes involved a walk of several miles; for he did not play so often in Stickleford as elsewhere.  

The next evidences of his influence over her were singular enough, and it would require a neurologist to fully explain them. She would be sitting quietly, any evening after dark, in the house of her father, the parish clerk, which stood in the middle of Stickleford village street, this being the highroad between Lower Mellstock and Moreford, five miles eastward. Here, without a moment's warning, and in the midst of a general conversation between her father, sister, and the young man before alluded to, who devotedly wooed her in ignorance of her infatuation, she would start from her seat in the chimney corner as if she had received a galvanic shock, and spring convulsively toward the ceiling; then she would burst into tears, and it was not till some half-hour had passed that she grew calm as usual. Her father, knowing her hysterical tendencies, was always excessively anxious about this trait in his youngest girl, and feared the attack to be a species of epileptic fit. Not so her sister Julia. Julia had found out what was the cause. At the moment before the jumping, only an exceptionally sensitive ear situated in the chimney-nook could have caught down the flue the beat of a man's footstep along the highway without. But it was in that footfall, for which she had been waiting, that the origin of Car'line's involuntary springing lay. The pedestrian was Mop Ollamoor, as the girl well knew; but his business that way was not to visit her; he sought another woman whom he spoke of as his Intended, and who lived at Moreford, two miles further on. On one, and only one, occasion did it happen that Car'line could not control her utterance; it was when her sister alone chanced to be present. "O—O—O—!" she cried. "He's going to her, and not coming to me!"        

To do the fiddler justice he had not at first thought greatly of, or spoken much to, this girl of impressionable mold. But he had soon found out her secret, and could not resist a little by-play with her too easily hurt heart, as an interlude between his more serious love makings at Moreford. The two became well acquainted, though only by stealth, hardly a soul in Stickleford except her sister, and her lover Ned Hipcroft, being aware of the attachment. Her father disapproved of her coldness to Ned; her sister, too, hoped she might get over this nervous passion for a man of whom so little was known. The ultimate result was that Car'line's manly and simple wooer Edward found his suit becoming practically hopeless. He was a respectable mechanic, in a far sounder position than Mop the nominal horse-doctor; but when, before leaving her, Ned put his flat and final question, would she marry him, then and there, now or never, it was with little expectation of obtaining more than the negative she gave him. Though her father supported him and her sister supported him, he could not play the fiddle so as to draw your soul out of your body like a spider's thread, as Mop did, till you felt as limp as withy wind and yearned for something to cling to. Indeed, Hipcroft had not the slightest ear for music; could not sing two notes in tune, much less play them.     

The No he had expected and got from her, in spite of a preliminary encouragement, gave Ned a new start in life. It had been uttered in such atone of sad entreaty that he resolved to persecute her no more; she should not even be distressed by a sight of his form in the distant perspective of the street and lane. He left the place, and his natural course was toLondon.       

The railway to South Wessex was in process of construction, but it was not as yet opened for traffic; and Hipcroft reached the capital by a six days' trudge on foot, as many a better man had done before him. He was one of the last of the artisan class who used that now extinct method of travel to the great centers of labor, so customary then from time immemorial.       

In London he lived and worked regularly at his trade. More fortunate than many, his disinterested willingness recommended him from the first. During the ensuing four years he was never out of employment. He neither advanced nor receded in the modern sense; he improved as a workman, but he did not shift one jot in social position. About his love for Car'line he maintained a rigid silence. No doubt he often thought of her; but being always occupied, and having no relations at Stickleford, he held no communication with that part of the country, and showed no desire to return. In his quiet lodging in Lambeth he moved about after working-hours with the facility of a woman, doing his own cooking, attending to his stocking-heels, and shaping himself by degrees to a life-long bachelorhood. For this conduct one is bound to advance the canonical reason that time could not efface from his heart the image of little Car'line Aspent—and it maybe in part true; but there was also the inference that his was a nature not greatly dependent upon the ministrations of the other sex for its comforts.    

The fourth year of his residence as a mechanic in London was the year of the Hyde-Park Exhibition already mentioned, and at the construction of this huge glasshouse, then unexampled in the world's history, he worked daily. It was an era of great hope and activity among the nations and industries. Though Hipcroft was, in his small way, a central man in the movement, he plodded on with his usual outward placidity. Yet for him, too, the year was destined to have its surprises, for when the bustle of getting the building ready for the opening day was past, the ceremonies had been witnessed, and people were flocking thither from all parts of the globe, he received a letter from Car'line. Till that day the silence of four years between himself and Stickleford had never been broken.      

She informed her old lover, in an uncertain penmanship, which suggested a trembling hand, of the trouble she had been put to in ascertaining his address, and then broached the subject which had prompted her to write. Four years ago, she said with the greatest delicacy of which she was capable, she had been so foolish as to refuse him. Her willful wrong headedness had since been a grief to her many times, and of late particularly. As for Mr. Ollamoor, he had been absent almost as long as Ned—she did not know where. She would gladly marry Ned now if he were to ask her again, and be a tender little wife to him till her life's end.    

A tide of warm feeling must have surged through Ned Hipcroft's frame on receipt of this news, if we may judge by the issue. Unquestionably he loved her still, even if not to the exclusion of every other happiness. This from his Car'line, she who had seen dead to him these many years, alive to him again as of old, was in itself a pleasant, gratifying thing. Ned had grown so resigned to, or satisfied with, his lonely lot, that he probably would not have shown much jubilation at anything. Still, a certain ardor of preoccupation, after his first surprise, revealed how deeply her confession of faith in him had stirred him. Measured and methodical in his ways, he did not answer the letter that day, nor the next, nor the next. He was having "a good ink." When he did answer it, there was a great deal of sound reasoning mixed in with the unmistakable tenderness of his reply; but the tenderness itself was sufficient to reveal that he was pleased with her straight forward frankness; that the anchorage she had once obtained in his heart was renewable, if it had not been continuously firm.  

He told her—and as he wrote his lips twitched humorously over the few gentle words of raillery he indited among the rest of his sentences—that it was all very well for her to come round at this time of day. Why wouldn't she have him when he wanted her? She had no doubt learned that he was not married, but suppose his affections had since been fixed on another? She ought to beg his pardon. Still, he was not the man to forget her. But considering how he had been used, and what he had suffered, she could not quite expect him to go down to Stickleford and fetch her. But if she would come to him, and say she was sorry, as was only fair; why, yes, he would marry her, knowing what a good little woman she was at the core. He added that the request for her to come to him was a less one to make than it would have been when he first left Stickleford, or even a few months ago; for the new railway into South Wessex was now open, and there had just begun to be run wonderfully contrived special trains, called excursion-trains, on account of the Great Exhibition; so that she could come up easily alone.   

She said in her reply how good it was of him to treat her so generously, after her hot and cold treatment of him; that though she felt frightened at the magnitude of the journey, and was never as yet in a railway-train, having only seen one pass at a distance, she embraced his offer with all her heart; and would, indeed, own to him how sorry she was, and beg his pardon, and try to be a good wife always, and make up for lost time.

The remaining details of when and where were soon settled, Car'line informing him, for her ready identification in the crowd, that she would be wearing "my new sprigged-layback cotton gown," and Ned gaily responding that, having married her the morning after her arrival, he would make a day of it by taking her to the Exhibition. One early summer afternoon, accordingly, he came from his place of work, and fastened toward Waterloo Station to meet her. It was as wet and chilly as an English June day can occasionally be, but as he waited on the platform in the drizzle he glowed inwardly, and seemed to have something to live for again.        

The "excursion-train"—an absolutely new departure in the history of travel—was still a novelty on the Wessex line, and probably everywhere. Crowds of people had flocked to all the stations on the way up to witness the unwonted sight of so long a train's passage, even where they did not take advantage of the opportunity it offered. The seats for the humbler class of travelers in these early experiments in steam-locomotion, were open trucks, without any protection whatever from the wind and rain; and damp weather having set in with the afternoon, the unfortunate occupants of these vehicles were, on the train drawing up at the London terminus, found to be in a pitiable condition from their long journey; blue-faced, stiff-necked, sneezing, rain-beaten, chilled to the marrow, many of the men being hatless; in fact, they resembled people who had been out all night in an open boat on a rough sea, rather than inland excursionists for pleasure. The women had in some degree protected themselves by turning up the skirts of their gowns over their heads, but as by this arrangement they were additionally exposed about the hips, they were all more or less in a sorry plight.       

In the bustle and crush of alighting forms of both sexes which followed the entry of the huge concatenation into the station, Ned Hipcroft soon discerned the slim little figure his eye was in search of, in the sprigged lilac, as described. She came up to him with a frightened smile—still pretty, though so damp, weather-beaten, and shivering from long exposure to the wind.     

"O, Ned! " she sputtered, "I—I—" He clasped her in his arms and kissed her, whereupon she burst into a flood of tears.        

"You are wet, my poor dear! I hope you'll not get cold," he said. And surveying her and her multifarious surrounding packages, he noticed that by the hand she led a toddling child—a little girl of three or so—whose hood was as clammy and tender face as blue as those of the other travelers.      

"Who is this—somebody you know?" asked Ned curiously.   

"Yes, Ned. She's mine."    

"Yours?"      

"Yes—my own."     

"Your own child?"  

"Yes!"

"But who's the father?"     

"The young man I had after you courted me." 

"Well—as God's in—"        

"Ned, I didn't name it in my letter, because, you see, it would have been so hard to explain! I thought that when we met I could tell you how she happened to be born, so much better than in writing! I hope you'll excuse it this once, dear Ned, and scold me, now I've come so many, many miles!"        

"This means Mr. Mop Ollamoor, I reckon!" said Hipcroft, gazing palely at them from the distance of the yard or two to which he had withdrawn with a start.  

Car'line gasped. "But he's been gone away for years!" she supplicated. "And I never had a young man before! And I was so onlucky to be catched the first time he took advantage o' me, though some of the girls down there go on like anything!"   

Ned remained in silence, pondering.     

"You'll forgive me, dear Ned?" she added, beginning to sob outright. "I haven't taken 'ee in after all, because—because you can pack us back again, if you want to; though 'tis hundreds o' miles, and so wet, and night a-coming on, and I with no money!  

"What the devil can I do!" Hipcroft groaned.    

A more pitiable picture than the pair of helpless creatures presented was never seen on a rainy day, as they stood on the great, gaunt, puddled platform, a whiff of drizzle blowing under the roof upon them now and then; the pretty attire in which they had started from Stickleford in the early morning bemuddled and sodden, weariness on their faces, and fear of him in their eyes; for the child began to look as if she thought she too had done some wrong, remaining in an appalled silence till the tears rolled down her chubby cheeks. 

"What's the matter, my little maid?" said Ned mechanically.  

"I do want to go home!" she let out, in tones that told of a bursting heart. "And my totties be cold, an' I shan't have no bread an' butter no more!"       

"I don't know what to say to it all!" declared Ned, his own eye moist as he turned and walked a few steps with his head down; then regarded them again point-blank. From the child escaped troubled breaths and silently welling tears.        

"Want some bread and butter, do 'ee?" he said, with factitious hardness.   

"Ye—e—s!"  

"Well, I dare say I can get 'ee a bit! Naturally, you must want some. And you, too, for that matter, Car'line."      

"I do feel a little hungered. But I can keep it off," she murmured.   

"Folk shouldn't do that," he said gruffly. . . . "There, come along!" He caught up the child, as he added, "You must bide here tonight, anyhow, I s'pose! What can you do otherwise? I'll get 'ee some tea and victuals; and as for this job, I'm sure I don't know what to say! This is the way out."     

They pursued their way, without speaking, to Ned's lodgings, which were not far off. There he dried them and made them comfortable, and prepared tea; they thankfully sat down. The ready-made household of which he suddenly found himself the head imparted a cosy aspect to his room, and a paternal one to himself. Presently he turned to the child and kissed her now blooming cheeks; and, looking wistfully at Car'line, kissed her also.    

"I don't see how I can send you back all them miles," he growled, "now you've come all the way o' purpose to join me. But you must trust me, Car'line, and show you've real faith in me, Well, do you feel better now, my little woman?"    

The child nodded beamingly, her mouth being otherwise occupied.

"I did trust you, Ned, in coming; and I shall always!" 

Thus, without any definite agreement to forgive her, he tacitly acquiesced in the fate that Heaven had sent him; and on the day of their marriage (which was not quite so soon as he had expected it could be, on account of the time necessary for banns) he took her to the Exhibition when they came back from church, as he had promised. While standing near a large mirror in one of the courts devoted to furniture, Car'line started, for in the glass appeared the reflection of a form exactly resembling Mop Ollamoor's—so exactly, that it seemed impossible to believe anybody but that artist in person to be the original. On passing round the objects which hemmed in Ned, her, and the child from a direct view, no Mop was to be seen. Whether he were really in London or not at that time was never known; and Car'line always stoutly denied that her readiness to go and meet Ned in town arose from any rumor that Mop had also gone thither; which denial there was no reasonable ground for doubting. 

And then the year glided away, and the Exhibition folded itself up and became a thing of the past. The park trees that had been enclosed for six months were again exposed to the winds and storms, and the sod grew green anew. Ned found that Car'line resolved herself into a very good wife and companion, though she had made herself what is called cheap to him; but in that she was like another domestic article, a cheap tea-pot, which often brews better tea than a dear one. One autumn Hipcroft found himself with but little work to do, and a prospect of less for the winter. Both being country born and bred, they fancied they would like to live again in their natural atmosphere. It was accordingly decided between them that they should leave the pent-up London lodging, and that Ned should seek out employment near his native place, his wife and her daughter staying with Car'line's father during the search for occupation and an abode of their own.      

Tinglings of pride pervaded Car'line's spasmodic little frame as she journeyed down with Ned to the place she had left two or three years before, in silence and under a cloud. To return to where she had once been despised, a smiling London wife with a distinct London accent, was a triumph which the world did not witness every day.      

The train did not stop at the petty roadside station that lay nearest to Stickleford, and the trio went on to Casterbridge. Ned thought it a good opportunity to make a few preliminary inquiries for employment at workshops in the borough where he had been known; and feeling cold from her journey, and it being dry underfoot and only dusk as yet, with a moon on the point of rising, Car'line and her little girl walked on toward Stickleford, leaving Ned to follow at a quicker pace, and pick her up at a certain halfway house, widely known as an inn.  

"The woman and child pursued the well-remembered way comfortably enough, though they were both becoming wearied. In the course of three miles they had passed Heedless-William's Pond, the familiar landmark by Bloom's End, and were drawing near the Quiet Woman, a lone roadside hostel on the lower verge of the Egdon Heath, since and for many years abolished. In stepping up toward it Car'line heard more voices within than had formerly been customary at such an hour, and she learned that an auction of fat stock had been held near the spot that afternoon. The child would be the better for a rest as well as herself, she thought, and she entered.   

The guests and customers overflowed into the passage, and Car'line had no sooner crossed the threshold than a man whom she remembered by sight came forward with a glass and mug in his hands toward a friend leaning against the wall; but, seeing her, very gallantly offered her a drink of the liquor, which was gin-and-beer hot, pouring her out a tumblerful and saying, in a moment or two: "Surely, 'tis little Car'line Aspent that was down at Stickleford?"   

She assented, and, though she did not exactly want this beverage, she drank it since it was offered, and her entertainer begged her to come in further and sit down. Once within the room she found that all the persons present were seated close against the walls, and there being a chair vacant she did the same. An explanation of their position occurred the next moment. In the opposite corner stood Mop, rosining his bow and looking just the same as ever. The company had cleared the middle of the room for dancing, and they were about to dance again. As she wore a veil to keep off the wind she did not think he had recognized her, or could possibly guess the identity of the child; and to her satisfied surprise she found that she could confront him quite calmly—mistress of herself in the dignity her London life had given her. Before she had quite emptied her glass the dance was called, the dancers formed in two lines, the music sounded, and the figure began.   

Then matters changed for Car'line. A tremor quickened itself to life in her, and her hand so shook that she could hardly set down her glass. It was not the dance nor the dancers, but the notes of that old violin which thrilled the London wife, these having still all the witchery that she had so well known of yore, and under which she had used to lose her power of independent will. How it all came back! There was the fiddling figure against the wall; the large, oily, mop-like head of him, and beneath the mop the face with closed eyes. 

After the first moments of paralyzed reverie the familiar tune in the familiar rendering made her laugh and shed tears simultaneously. Then a man at the bottom of the dance, whose partner had dropped away, stretched out his hand and beckoned to her to take the place. She did not want to dance; she entreated by signs to be left where she was, but she was entreating of the tune and its player rather than of the dancing man. The salutatory tendency which the fiddler and his cunning instrument had ever been able to start in her was seizing Car'line just as it had done in earlier years, possibly assisted by the gin-and-beer hot. Tired as she was she grasped her little girl by the hand, and plunging in at the bottom of the figure, whirled about with the rest. She found that her companions were mostly people of the neighboring hamlets and farms—Bloom's End, Mellstock, Lewgate, and elsewhere; and by degrees she was recognized as she convulsively danced on, wishing that Mop would cease and let her heart rest from the aching he caused, and her feet also.

After long and many minutes the dance ended, when she was urged to fortify herself with more gin-and-beer; which she did, feeling very weak and overpowered with hysteric emotion. She refrained from unveiling, to keep Mop in ignorance of her presence, if possible. Several of the guests having left, Car'line hastily wiped her lips and also turned to go; but, according to the account of some who remained, at that very moment a five-handed reel was proposed, in which two or three begged her to join.       

She declined on the plea of being tired and having to walk to Stickleford, when Mop began aggressively tweedling "My Fancy-Lad," in D major, as the air to which the reel was to be footed. He must have recognized her, though she did not know it, for it was the strain of all seductive strains which she was least able to resist—the one he had played when she was leaning over the bridge at the date of their first acquaintance. Car'line stepped despairingly into the middle of the room with the other four.    

Reels were resorted to hereabouts at this time by the more robust spirits, for the reduction of superfluous energy which the ordinary figure-dances were not powerful enough to exhaust. As everybody knows, or does not know, the five reelers stood in the form of a cross, the reel being performed by each line of three alternately, the persons who successively came to the middle place dancing in both directions. Car'line soon found herself in this place, the axis of the whole performance, and could not get out of it, the tune turning into the first part without giving her opportunity. And now she began to suspect that Mop did know her, and was doing this on purpose, though whenever she stole a glance at him his closed eyes betokened obliviousness to everything outside his own brain. She continued to wend her way through the figure of eight that was formed by her course, the fiddler introducing into his notes the wild and agonizing sweetness of a living voice in one too highly wrought; its pathos running high and running low in endless variation, projecting through her nerves excruciating spasms, a sort of blissful torture. The room swam, the tune was endless; and in about a quarter of an hour the only other woman in the figure dropped out exhausted, and sank panting on a bench.

The reel instantly resolved itself into a four-handed one. Car'line would have given anything to leave off; but she had, or fancied she had, no power, while Mop played such tunes; and thus another ten minutes slipped by, a haze of dust now clouding the candles, the floor being of stone, sanded. Then another dancer fell out—one of the men—and went into the passage in a frantic search for liquor. To turn the figure into a three-handed reel was the work of a second, Mop modulating at the same time into "The Fairy Dance," as better suited to the contracted movement, and no less one of those foods of love which, as manufactured by his bow, had always intoxicated her.     

In a reel for three there was no rest whatever, and four or five minutes were enough to make her remaining two partners, now thoroughly blown, stamp their last bar, and, like their predecessors, limp off into the next room to get something to drink. Car'line, half-stifled inside her veil, was left dancing alone, the apartment now being empty of everybody save herself, Mop, and their little girl.

         

She flung up the veil, and cast her eyes upon him, as if imploring him to withdraw himself and his acoustic magnetism from the atmosphere. Mop opened one of his own orbs, as though for the first time, fixed it peeringly upon her, and smiling dreamily, threw into his strains the reserve of expression which he could not afford to waste on a big and noisy dance. Crowds of little chromatic subtleties, capable drawing tears from a statue, proceeded straightway from the ancient fiddle, as if it were dying of the emotion which had been pent up within it ever since its banishment from some Italian or German city where it first took shape and sound. There was that in the look of Mop's one dark eye which said: "You cannot leave off, dear, whether you would or no!" and it bred in her a paroxysm of desperation that defied him to tire her down.       

She thus continued to dance alone, defiantly as she thought, but in truth slavishly and abjectly, subject to every wave of the melody, and probed by the gimlet-like gaze of her fascinator's open eye; keeping up at the same time a feeble smile in his face, as feint to signify it was still her own pleasure which led her on. A terrified embarrassment as to what she could say to him if she were to leave off, had its unrecognized share in keeping her going. The child, who was beginning to be distressed by the strange situation, came up and whimpered: "Stop, mother, stop, and let's go home!" as she seized Car'line's hand.      

Suddenly Car'line sank staggering to the floor, and rolling over on her face, prone she remained. Mop's fiddle thereupon emitted an elfin shriek of finality; stepping quickly down from the nine-gallon beer-cask which had formed his rostrum, he went to the little girl, who disconsolately bent over her mother.    

The guests who had gone into the backroom for liquor and change of air, hearing something unusual, trooped back hitherward, where they endeavored to revive poor, weak Car'line by blowing her with the bellows and opening the window. Ned, her husband, who had been detained in Casterbridge, as aforesaid, came along the road at this juncture, and hearing excited voices through the open casement, and to his great surprise, the mention of his wife's name, he entered amid the rest upon the scene. Car'line was now in convulsions, weeping violently, and for a long time nothing could be done with her. While he was sending for a cart to take her onward to Stickleford Hipcroft anxiously inquired, how it had all happened; and then the assembly explained that a fiddler formerly known in the locality had lately visited his old haunts, and had taken upon himself without invitation to play that evening at the inn and raise a dance.         Ned demanded the fiddler's name, and they said Ollamoor.  

"Ah!" exclaimed Ned, looking round him. "Where is he, and where—where's my little girl?"     

Ollamoor had disappeared, and so had the child. Hipcroft was in ordinary a quiet and tractable fellow, but a determination which was to be feared settled in his face now. "Blast him!" he cried. "I'll beat his skull in for'n, if I swing for it tomorrow!"         

He had rushed to the poker which lay on the hearth, and has tened down the passage, the people following. Outside the house, on the other side of the highway, a mass of dark heath-land rose sullenly upward to its not easily accessible interior, a ravined plateau, whereon jutted into the sky, at the distance of a couple of miles, the fir-woods of Mistover backed by the Yalbury coppices—a place of Dantesque gloom at this hour, which would have afforded secure hiding for a battery of artillery, much less a man and a child.  

Some other men plunged thitherward with him, and more went along the road. They were gone about twenty minutes altogether, returning without result to the inn. Ned sat down in the settle, and clasped his forehead with his hands.   

"Well—what a fool the man is, and hev been all these years, if he thinks the child his, as a' do seem to!" they whispered. "And everybody else knowing otherwise!"   

"No, I don't think 'tis mine!" cried Ned hoarsely, as he looked up from his hands. "But she is mine, all the same! Ha'n't I nussed her? Ha'n't I fed her and teached her? Ha'n't I played wi' her? O, little Carry—gone with that rogue—gone!"    

"You ha'n't lost your mis'ess, anyhow," they said to console him. "She's throwed up the sperrits, and she is feeling better, and she's more to 'ee than a child that isn't yours."

"She isn't! She's not so particular much to me, especially now she's lost the little maid! But Carry's the whole world to me!"         

"Well, ver' like you'll find her tomorrow."         

"Ah—but shall I? Yet he can't hurt her—surely he can't! Well—how's Car'line now? I am ready. Is the cart here?"

She was lifted into the vehicle, and they sadly lumbered on toward Stickleford. Next day she was calmer; but the fits were still upon her; and her will seemed shattered. For the child she appeared to show singularly little anxiety, though Ned was nearly distracted by his passionate paternal love for a child not his own. It was nevertheless quite expected that the impish Mop would restore the lost one after a freak of a day or two; but time went on, and neither he nor she could be heard of, and Hipcroft murmured that perhaps he was exercising upon her some unholy musical charm, as he had done upon Car'line herself. Weeks passed, and still they could obtain no clue either to the fiddler's whereabouts or to the girl's; and how he induced her to go with him remained a mystery.      

Then Ned, who had obtained only temporary employment in the neighborhood, took a sudden hatred toward his native district, and a rumor reaching his ears through the police that a somewhat similar man and child had been seen at a fair near London, he playing a violin, she dancing on stilts, a new interest in the capital took possession of Hipcroft with an intensity which would scarcely allow him time to pack before returning thither. He did not, however find the lost one, though he made it the entire business of his over-hours to stand about in by-streets in the hope of discovering her, and would start up in the night, saying, "That rascal's torturing her to maintain him!" To which his wife would answer peevishly, "Don't 'ee raft yourself so, Ned! You prevent my getting a bit o' rest! He won't hurt her!" and fall asleep again.

That Carry and her father had emigrated to America was the general opinion; Mop, no doubt, finding the girl a highly desirable companion when he had trained her to keep him by her earnings as a dancer. There, for that matter, they may be performing in some capacity now, though he must bean old scamp verging on three-score-and-ten, and she a woman of four-and-forty.

May 1893.

THE JERO PLAYS BY WOLE SOYINKA

The Jero Plays by Wole Soyinka consist of two short plays re-released as a collection in 1973. The Trials of Brother Jero first came out in 1964, while Jero’s Metamorphosis was published two years later in 1966. Both plays satirize Christianity and religious hypocrisy, particularly, the unquestioning devotion that many converts display towards their spiritual leaders, often exposing themselves to manipulation in the process.

As the title suggests, The Trials of Brother Jero is about a charlatan preacher, Brother Jero.  Brother Jero is a cunning beach diviner who woos customers (penitents) to his church by using Christian superstition for his own salvation. For him, the church is a business. He says:

 ‘I am glad I got here before any customers-I mean worshipers..  l always get a feeling every morning that am a shopkeeper waiting for customers.’

Brother Jero is suave while his followers are gullible. He lures people to his church by promising them material gains and promotions through prayer. Chume his assistant often seeks for permission to beat his arrogant wife Amope but Brother Jero disagrees:

‘ I keep my followers dissatisfied because if they are satisfied, they won’t come again..’

When Brother Jero discovers that Amope is Chume’s wife, he grants him permission to beat her for she is his stubborn creditor who has been harassing Jero over a velvet cape she had sold him at one pound, eight shillings and nine pence.
Three months down the road, Jero has still not paid her. He blames her for selling him a cape (which he would not have needed if it were not for his church business). In a bid to collect her debt, the woman camps at Jero’s house daily.

Brother Jero’s greatest weakness is women. His lust for them at one point earns him a beating from an angry woman (daughters of eve, he calls them).

Chume is disappointed when he finds out that Brother Jero wants him to beat Amope for his own convenience. To him the two are having a sexual affair behind his back. He says in Pidgin English:

‘The prophet na in over. As soon as dark, she go in meet in man….adulterer, woman thief. Today I go finish you.’

Brother Jero, who has been in the middle of praying for a member of parliament, flees for his life on seeing Chume with a cutlass. The gullible member thinks that he has ascended to heaven.

The second play, Jero’s Metamorphosis, is also set in Nigeria. Here, Brother Jero is cast as one of the many beach prophets operating in the region. The play opens with Brother Jero instructing Rebecca his secretary to write invitation letters to other prophets. He has managed to access a confidential file that reveals plans to transform the beach, now used as a place for worship, into a public prosecution ground.

With the meeting, the cunning Jero plans on using the file and its contents to unite all the prophets so they form one church with him as the leader. On the day of the meeting, Jero delays making an appearance.  Meanwhile, he opportunistically instructs Rebecca to give the prophets a lot of alcohol.

When Jero eventually arrives, the preachers are asked to choose who will be the head of the church. Influenced by the alchohol they’ve been having, they cast their votes in favor of Brother Jero over his rival Shadrack. The latter had been seen as the probable head. Unlike his colleagues, many of whom are ex-convicts, Shadrack is a real preacher.
Justifying the title metamorphosis, all the people in Jero’s church are given titles like Sergeant and General yet most of them had been ex convicts instead of having titles suitable for the church such as pastors, bishops. Their titles are from the police department.

FROM http://www.africabookclub.com

Osoba, Joseph. “A Linguistic Analysis of Wole Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero”, Crossroads. A Journal of English Studies 4 (1/2014),

34-49.

Joseph Osoba

The University of Lagos

A Linguistic Analysis of Wole Soyinka’s

The Trials of Brother Jero

Abstract. The application of linguistic theories and concepts as tools for analysis of literary works provides one of the most fascinating and illuminating insights into how they may be read, interpreted, and understood. This assumption underlies the objective of this paper in which I attempt to explicate an interpretation of Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero through an application of the pragmatics tool of presupposition. Thus an attempt is made in this paper to present a linguistic analysis of the play by an examination of its meaning potentials in terms of presuppositions. In this regard, utterances of two major characters, Jero and Chume, his Assistant, are selected and analysed. It may be interesting to note that fictional characters express presuppositions as much as people in real life. Thus this study is a presentation of an interface between linguistics and literary works. In this linguistic study, literary discourse is exploited using the pragmatic concept of presupposition which underlines and underpins the explanatory adequacy of its explication. Stimulating insights are presented in the interpretation and understanding of Wole Soyinka’s Trials of Brother Jero as a piece of dramatic discourse which constitute and promote the interface of linguistic science and literary science.

Keywords: meaning potential, presupposition, pragmatics, dramatic discourse.

Introduction

The study of how language is used in practical or real life situations may be appropriately referred to as pragmatics. Thus all actual uses (including in literary works) of language come under the purview of pragmatics. Moreover, every use of language can be described as a speech event or discourse. Hence literary works are more or less forms or types of speech events or discourses. In this light, presupposition as a conceptual pragmatic tool appears to be adequate, useful and appropriate for an insightful and illuminating explication of literary and non-literary works. This perhaps makes Elam’s claim very apt: “Whatever the properties ascribed to dramatis personae as individuals in a fictional world, and whatever personal , … social and other roles they are seen to fulfill as functions of dramatic structure, it is in the first instance as participants into speech events that they are usually perceived” (Elam 1980: 36).

In fact, all literary uses of language may be said to be subject to some kind of linguistic enquiry or investigation. Thus it seems productive to employ the linguistic/ pragmatic tool of presupposition in the analysis of Wole Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero, a play. This approach may shed some light in terms of how the play may be interpreted, perceived and comprehended by its readers/audiences.

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This view is well-buttressed by Elam’s explication that dramatic speakers are expected “to produce utterances which are informative …, ‘true’ with respect to the dramatic world (unless strategically insincere), comprehensible and relevant to the occasion” (see Elam 1980: 173). Thus, whether in fiction or in real life, the use of language tends to signify the relationship between interlocutors as interactional and transactional. In this regard, in both literary and non-literary discourses, people are seen to employ language to establish or contract relationships which are based on mutual understanding or common / shared values. In this paper, I attempt to investigate, analyse and explicate features of presupposition in selected speeches or discourses of two major characters (Jero and Chume) in Wole Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero.

The choice of literary text was warranted by the fact that The Trials of Brother Jero is a popular comedy in the language (perhaps it is the only work by Wole Soyinka that is written in simple English!) of the masses. Its audiences tend to cut across social and intellectual classes. Moreover, though it was published in the early 60’s, it is very relevant to the contemporary socio-political and religious situation in Nigeria. The choice of the two characters was determined by their roles as protagonist (Jero as a charlatan) and antagonist (Chume as a victim). An extract from the play is considered sufficient in order to explicate the features of pragmatic tools. The extract is reproduced in the Appendix to allow the reader to consider it in its entirety.

The actions, in a play, embody what the play is about. Thus, according to Richard Gill, a plot is about what the characters are up to, what they want and what they do to achieve their goal (see Gill 2006: 104). Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero, portrays the protagonist, Prophet Jero, as charlatan who attempts to achieve his ambition as an important and distinctive prophet by appearing immaculate in a velvet cape, which he had not yet paid for, and articulate in prophecy. His ultimate ambition is to be called the Velvet-hearted Jeroboam, Immaculate Jero, and Articulate Hero of Christ’s Crusade. The scene starts with Prophet Jero, a much altered man with his clothes torn and his face bleeding, asking his Assistant, Brother Chume, to dismiss the congregation. In their discussions, it was revealed, to the reader or audience, that it was Brother Chume’s wife that Prophet Jero had an unpleasant encounter with that morning. It was also revealed that, initially, the prophet was not aware that that woman was Brother Chume’s wife. Ironically, Brother Chume had come to report the wife’s cruelty to the prophet oblivious of the fact that Jero was actual the man the wife had forced him to carry her to his place to collect the money she was owed. Brother Chume needed the prophet’s advice on how to discipline the wife and would be glad to exchange his own marital troubles with the prophet’s crosses. Paradoxically, the prophet’s advice changed from prayer and forgiveness to punishment and the use of whip as soon as Jero realised whose Chume’s wife was. In the next subsection, I intend to examine the relationship between linguistic form and literary form as some kind of discourse.

The Interface Between Linguistics and Literary Works

Linguistics, the scientific study of language, seems to be concerned with all aspects of description, analysis and explication of the form, structure and function of language in theory and application. In this regard, it seems appropriate to examine the form, structure and function of language in literary works. By this approach, it may be possible to provide a significantly illuminating insight into the interface between linguistics and literature as a verbal art. Since all uses, forms and functions are of interest in linguistics and its application, the use of language in literary works, such as drama, prose and poetry, appears to be one of

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the most significant expressions of human social and emotional communication. This communication is seen to take the form of verbal and non-verbal art that is embedded in the mutual, collective and common values, knowledge, practices et cetera of the speech community of the interlocutors. Thus all literary uses of language may be described as exposition of linguistic discourse. Nigel Fabb’s explication of the literary form is instructive as follows: “Verbal behaviour is the production of texts, products which have verbal form in the media of writing or speech. Some of those texts are verbal art, also called “literature”: they are literary texts. Literary texts have linguistic form because they are texts (the product of verbal behaviour), and they also have literary form (Fabb 1997:1-2).

Boulton (1977: 1) makes a bold attempt to distinguish drama from other forms of literature in his insightful argument that:

There is an enormous difference between a play and any other form of literature. A play is not really a piece of literature. A true play is three-dimensional; it is literature that walks and talks before our eyes. It is not intended that the eye shall perceive marks on paper and the imagination turn them into sights, sounds and actions; the text of the play is meant to be translated into sights, sounds and actions which occur literally and physically on stage. Though in fact plays are often read in silence, if we are to study drama at all intelligently we must keep this in mind.

What Boulton (1977: 97) seems to point out succinctly is that “A PLAY is its dialogue”. What is important here is that, in a play, characters use language pragmatically as in real life unlike in other genres like prose or narrative poetry where the personae is the narrator talking about himself and/or others. The narrator here may be the first person, omniscient, third person or effaced narrator. The point is thus that the audience or the reader/hearer is exposed to fictional scenarios through the eyes and words of the narrator. In a play, the verbal communication involves verbal exchanges that can be described as interactional or transactional in nature. The success of this communication may be said to depend largely on whether or not the hearer /listener understands the message or information the speaker intends to convey. This idea is well noted by Fabb (1997:10) when he argues that communication may sometime be imprecise and, therefore, unsuccessful.

Communication can be vague. For example the speaker may say ‘my love is a red red rose’. The hearer may use this as evidence that the speaker intends to tell him that the loved person is beautiful, precious, will not live forever, and so on: the analogy with a flower means that various characteristics of the flower will be carried over to the loved person. Successful communication involves the hearer reconstructing some of these thoughts and attributing them to the speaker: the communication is successful with different sets of thoughts. There is no single tightly constrained set of meanings intended, just some sets of meanings which can be inferred from the utterance.

Thus one can assume, based on Fabb’s argument, that the utterances of the protagonists and antagonists in plays can be studied using relevant theories of or concepts in pragmatics. Insights from an application of pragmatic theories and concepts, such as presupposition and implicature, ultimately provide some useful illumination in one’s attempt to understand how language is interpreted and understood by interlocutors. A pragmatic analysis of the literary form should be as informative, insightful and discursive as a study of any other form of language use. This assumption is premised on the argument that a valid theory of or concept in language must be able to account for all or at least most of the possible recurrent or regular or irregular patterns as well as available choices. Hence if a theory of language is able to account for one form or function of language it should be able to account for all other forms or functions (see Halliday 1973).

This point is germane here because of the fact that I am primarily interested in ‘understanding how a particular function of language is determined linguistically’ (see Birch 1989:119). In this regard, I am talking about the literary function of language. Grice’s maxims

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of cooperation may be relevant here since speakers must first cooperate before they can communicate. And the point is that, whether in life or in fiction, cooperative principle seems to come to play. Thus, as a matter of fact, it comes to play in all cases of verbal or sometimes non-verbal exchanges or discourses (see Jianmin 1999: 8). In essence, in all aspects of verbal communication or discourse, Grice’s cooperative principle tends to be applicable but for this study only presupposition is employed because it tends to be both adequate and appropriate to explicate the goal as well as the aim of this paper.

In every communication, the interlocutors tend to be concerned with the way information is organized. Thus any form of communication, such as dialogues, poetry, drama, prose, memos, letters, commentaries, etc. in any linguistic form or language can also be described as a piece of discourse.

In his work, Language and Power, Fairclough (2001: 16, 18–19) provides a fascinating conception of language as discourse, language as a form of social practice. In an attempt to make clear what discourse is, he differentiates discourse from text. To him, “a text is a product rather than a process – a product of the process of text production.” In his work, the term, discourse, is used to refer to the whole process of social interaction of which a text is just one element – the visible, final one – of discourse. This process is said to include both process of production and process of interpretation, for which the text is a resource. In this regard, drama is taken as a text.

Thus a dramatic discourse may also be seen as involving two types of social conditions: (1) social condition of production and (2) social conditions of interpretation; which relate to three different “levels” of social organization, the level of the social situation, or the immediate social environment in which the discourse occurs; the level of the social institution which constitutes a wider matrix for the discourse; and the level of the society as a whole. In sum, discourse can be described as the relationship between texts, interactions and contexts. Fairclough (2001: 25) illustrates this in the following diagram:

Social conditions of production

Social conditions of interpretation

Context

Process of production

Process of interpretation

Interaction

Text

Osoba, Joseph. “A Linguistic Analysis of Wole Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero”, Crossroads. A Journal of English Studies 4 (1/2014),

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On the basis of Fairclough’s (2001) illuminating argument, drama is the most immediate, impactful type of discourse.

An Overview of Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero as a Dramatic Work

The play, The Trials of Brother Jero, was first published in Great Britain in 1964 by Oxford University Press. The Nigerian edition was published in 1981 by Spectrum Books Limited. The cast comprises the following: Jeroboam (Brother Jero), a Beach Diviner; Old Prophet, his mentor; Chume, assistant to Jeroboam; Amope, his wife; a trader; the Penitent, a woman; the angry woman, a tough mamma; a young girl; a drummer boy; a man and an old couple (worshippers) In the play, Brother Jero had a fine velvet cape, but he had not yet paid for it. This is the origin of one of the troubles referred to in the abstract.

Methodology/ Presentation of Corpus

The corpus of my analysis is taken from pages 30 to 32 of the text (the main part of Scene Three), The Trials of Brother Jero and it is attached as appendix. Only a sample of my data is actually extracted for the purpose of my analysis since it tends to suffice for the explication of pragmatic features. The turns in speaking are serially numbered. Each text of the corpus is organised into clausal structures. These are then organised into their phrasal and categorial units in the analysis. However, since we are dealing with discourse, only the clausal and phrasal structures are considered for analysis. The excerpt is as follows:

(Brother Jero has just come in view. They all rush to help him back into the circle. He is a much altered man, his clothes torn and his face bleeding.)

1. JERO (slowly and painfully):

Clause 1: Thank you, brothers, sisters.

Clause 2: Brother Chume, kindly tell these friends

Clause 3; to leave me.

Clause 4: I must pray for the soul of that sinful woman.

Clause 5: I must say a personal prayer for her. (Chume ushers them off. They go

reluctantly, chattering excited.)

Clause 6: Prayers this evening, as usual.

Clause 7: Late afternoon.

2. CHUME (shouting after):

Clause 1: Prayers late afternoon as always.

Clause 2: Brother Jeroboam says

Clause 3: God keep you till then.

Clause 4: Are you alright, Brother Jero?

3. JERO

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Clause 1: Who would have thought that….

Clause 2: she would dare lift her hands against a prophet of God!

4. CHUME

Clause: Women are a plague, brother.

5. JERO

Clause 1: I had the premonition this morning

Clause 2: that a woman would be my downfall today.

Clause 3: But I thought of it only in the spiritual sense.

6. CHUME

Clause: Now you see how it is, brother Jero.

7. JERO

Clause 1: From the moment I looked out of my window this morning,

Clause 2: I have been tormented one way or another by the Daughters of Discord.

8. CHUME (eagerly):

Clause 1: That is how it is with me, Brother.

Clause 2: Every day.

Clause 3: Every morning and night.

Clause 4: Only this morning my wife made me

Cause 5: take her to the house of some poor man,

Clause 6: who she says owes her money.

Clause 7: She loaded enough on my bicycle

Clause 8: to lay a siege for a week

Clause 9: and all the thanks I got was abuse.

9. JERO

Clause 1: Indeed it must be a trial, Brother Chume…

Clause 2: and it requires… (He becomes suspicious.)

Clause 3: Brother Chume, did you say that

Clause 4: your wife went

Clause 5: to make camp only this morning at the house of a …of someone

Clause 6: who owes her money?

10. CHUME

Clause 1: Yes,

Clause 2: I took her there myself.

Osoba, Joseph. “A Linguistic Analysis of Wole Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero”, Crossroads. A Journal of English Studies 4 (1/2014),

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11. JERO

Clause 1: Er…indeed. (Coughs.)

Clause 2: Is …your wife a trader?

12. CHUME

Clause 1: Yes.

Clause 2: Petty trading, you know.

Clause 3: Wool, silk, cloth and all that stuff.

13. JERO

Clause 1: Indeed.

Clause 2: Quite an enterprising woman. (Hems)

Clause 3: Er…where was the house of this man…

Clause 4: I mean, this man

Clause 5: who owes her money?

14. CHUME

Clause 1: Not very far from here.

Clause 2: Ajete settlement,

Clause 3: a mile or so from here.

Clause 4: I did not even know

Clause 5: the place existed until today.

15. JERO (to himself):

Clause: So that is your wife….

16. CHUME

Clause: Did you speak, prophet?

17. JERO

Clause 1: No.

Clause 2: no.

Clause 3: I was only thinking of

Clause 4: how little women have changed since Eve,

Clause 5: since Delilah,

Clause 6: since Jezebel.

Clause 7: But we must be strong at heart.

Cause 8: I have my own cross too, Brother Chume.

Clause 9: This morning alone I have been thrice in conflict with the Daughters of

Discord.

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Clause 10: First there was...

Clause 11: no, never mind that.

Clause 12: There is another

Clause 13: who crosses my path every day.

Clause 14: Goes to swim just over there

Clause 15: and then waits for me to be in the midst of my meditation before my eyes….

18. CHUME (to himself, with deep feeling):

Clause: I’d willingly change crosses with you.

19. JERO

Clause: What, Brother Chume?

20. CHUME

Clause: I was only praying.

21. JERO

Clause 1: Ah.

Clause 2: That is the only way.

Clause 3: But er …I wonder really

Clause 4: what the will of God would be in this matter.

Clause 5: After all, Christ himself was not averse to using the whip

Clause 6: when occasion demanded it.

22. CHUME (eagerly):

Clause: No, he did not hesitate.

23. JERO

Clause 1: In that case, since, Brother Chume, your wife seems such a wicked, willful

sinner,

Clause2: I think….

24. CHUME

Clause 1: Yes,

Clause 2: Holy one…?

25. JERO

Clause: You must take her home tonight….

26. CHUME

Clause: Yes….

27. JERO

Clause: And beat her.

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28. CHUME (kneeling, clasps Jero’s hand in his):

Clause: Prophet!

29. JERO

Clause 1: Remember,

Clause 2: it must be done in your own house.

Clause 3: Never show the discord within you family to the wor.. .ld

Clause 4: Take her home and beat her. (Chume leaps up and gets his bike.)

Presupposition in Dramatic Discourse

In any linguistic enterprise, effective communication tends to depend, to a large extent, on the shared knowledge or values that exist or prevail contextually among interlocutors. It is this shared knowledge or values that enhance the interlocutors’ correct interpretation of each other’s utterances and messages as well as their understanding by their audience. It is on this assumption that the pragmatic notion of presupposition rests (see Fairclough, 2001; Osoba, 2014b). George Yule regards the assumption that the hearer and the speaker have about what they assume to be true as presupposition. To him, “When a speaker uses referring expressions like this, he or Shakespeare, in normal circumstances, she is working with an assumption that the hearer knows which referent is intended…. What a speaker assumes is true or is known by the hearer can be described as a presupposition (Yule 1996:134).

As noted earlier, linguistic messages are designed based on the assumptions about what hearers are already familiar with. These assumptions are based on the shared knowledge or values that exist among interlocutors but may sometimes be mistaken. Yule (1996:132), Palmer (1996:166), Mey (2001: 28) and Levinson (2003: 167–176) provide illustrative accounts of the notion of presupposition. Levinson illuminates a set of important distinctions and alternative approaches adopted by linguists as follows:

1. the distinction between logical implication or entailment and presupposition (in the work of Frege and Strawson )

2. the contrast between assertion and presupposition (again in the work of Frege and Strawson)

3. the issue of whether it was proper to think of presupposition as a relation between sentences (as Frege sometimes did) between statements (as Strawson held) or between speakers on the one hand and assumptions on the other (as Frege did, on other occasions).

4. the issue of whether the apparent ambiguity of negation between a presupposition- denying sense and a presupposition-preserving sense is to be thought of as a scope distinction (a structural ambiguity) or lexical ambiguity.

5. the possibility that apparently background assumptions, presuppositions, could in fact be viewed as assertions of entailments (meaning that one thing is part of another thing), on a par with the rest of a sentence’s meaning(Russell’s approach) (Levinson 2003: 173).

In addition, he lists a certain range of presuppositional phenomena that had been adduced in the philosophical literature which includes the presuppositions of

a. singular terms, e.g. definite descriptions, proper names

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b. quantified noun phrases, e.g. “All of John’s children” can be claimed to presuppose “John has children” (Strawson 1952).

c. temporal clauses (as in Frege’s example quoted above).

d. changes of state verb: e.g. “Betrand has stopped beating his wife“ can be claimed to presuppose “Betrand had been beating his wife” (Sellar 1954).]

From his explication of the various approaches to and distinctions (Frege and Strawson, Strawson (1952), Russell, Sellar (1954) of presupposition, Levinson (2003) identifies two distinct kinds of presupposition in natural languages: (1) semantic presuppositions expounded by Strawson (1952) and (2) pragmatic presupposition as expounded by Keenan (1971).

In the summary of his explication of semantic presupposition, Levinson (2003: 204) clearly argues and asserts that: “Semantic theories of presupposition are not viable for the simple reason that semantics is concerned with specification of invariant stable meanings that can be associated with expressions”.

For this reason, and others catalogued by Stalnaker (1974); Kempson (1975), Wilson (1975) and Boer and Lycan (1978), semantic theories of presupposition have been abandoned and replaced or substituted with pragmatic presupposition whose basic concepts are appropriateness (or felicity) and mutual knowledge or common ground or joint assumption. This is indicated in his definition which states that:

An utterance A pragmatically presupposes a proposition B if A is appropriate and only if B is mutually known by participants.

Thus by uttering a sentence whose presuppositions are, and are known to be, false, we are merely producing an inappropriate utterance, rather than (on the semantic view) to have asserted a sentence that was neither true nor false (see Osoba 2014b). The point, as noted by Fairclough (2001:127), is that “Presuppositions are not properties of texts; they are an aspect of text producers’ interpretations of intertextual context.” Thus the utterances of dramatis personae may be accepted as been appropriate as textual discourse. The approach I have adopted in the analysis of Soyinka’s play is that of Pragmatic Presupposition for the reason that it is more relevant and provides a sound basis for the explication and analysis of my dramatic discourse corpus.

Analysis

It is important to note that several presuppositions can be read into an utterance based on its historical series or backgrounds. According to Fairclough, it is also important to note that “As in the case of situational context, discourse participants may arrive at roughly the same interpretations or different ones, and the interpretation of the more powerful participant may be imposed upon others” (Fairclough 2001: 127). This provides the foregrounding of the analysis of Soyinka’s play.

Among the presuppositions in Clause 1 of Utterance 1, “Thank you, brothers, sisters.” are: “I am grateful to you, brethren.”, “I appreciate your kind gesture.”, “You are nice brethren”, “You brethren deserve gratitude or appreciation.” These presuppositions are deductive from our common knowledge of the historical context of the utterance. Having waited for their prophet for hours, the brethren must be appreciated for their patience. But the tone of the utterance, which sounds hesitant, may also presuppose the need for them to leave

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the prophet alone. Hence, the presuppositions of “Please go now.”; “It is time you leave.”; “See you soon.” can also be read into the utterance.

Those presuppositions make the next two clauses in the utterance appropriate. Thus Clause 2 reads “Brother Chume, kindly tell these friends…” and Clause 3 “…to leave me”. What is presupposed in Clause 1 is explicitly stated in Clauses 2 and 3 of Utterance 1. But Clauses 4 and 5, which read “I must pray for the soul of that sinful woman.” and “I must say a personal prayer for her”, have different presuppositions which can only be interpreted or understood in the light of the previous stage direction or non-verbal context which states that Brother Jero was a much altered man with his clothes torn and his face bleeding as he entered the stage. This presupposes that he had had a bad encounter before entering the church. From Clauses 4 and 5, his sad encounter with a sinful woman is presupposed. Other presuppositions such as “I am a prophet of God, who needs to pray for the souls of sinner so that God can forgive them their sins.”; “ As a prophet, I need to pray to be able to forgive the woman who has done harm to me”; “I am a true prophet, I pray and I forgive.” Similarly, Clauses 6 and 7, “Prayers this evening, as usual.” and “Late afternoon.” simply presuppose that Prophet Jero prays regularly especially in the evening or late afternoon. This seems to restate the previous presuppositions, “I am a true prophet, I pray.”

In sum, Utterance 1, with its seven clauses, can be said to presuppose that Prophet Jero is a true man of God who appreciates his congregation, forgives those who offend him and prays regularly, especially in the evening, with his congregation. This presupposition is what Brother Chume, his interlocutor, is likely to understand Brother Jero’s first utterance to be.

Utterance 2 is made by Brother Chume in reaction to Brother Jero’s first utterance. The utterance contains four clauses. The first two simply re-echoes the presupposition in Brother Jero’s first utterance. The third clause is a prayer which presupposes that Brother Chume also prays for and wishes the congregation well. The last clause is a direct question which presupposes that Brother Jero is not alright.

The third utterance is made by Brother Jero and contains two clauses. Clause 1: “Who would have thought that…” and Clause 2: “she would dare lift her hands against a prophet of God!” have the presupposition of “No one lifts their hands against a prophet of God.” And since the woman in question had lifted her hands on Prophet Jero two things could be also presupposed by the reader or audience: (1) The woman did not know that Brother Jero is a prophet and (2) Brother Jero is not a true prophet. These two presuppositions are deductive based on the historical context as well as the textuality of the third utterance. It is only in this context that the utterance can be appropriate. The fourth utterance is made by Chume and contains only one clause. It is an explicit statement about Chume’s general perception of a woman which presupposes that women are a nuisance! This may also presuppose that Chume is married; that Chume’s wife is troublesome. These presuppositions may be seen as foregrounding future revelations about the relationship between Chume and his wife as well as the relationship between her and Brother Jero.

Utterance 5 is made by Brother Jero and contains three clauses. The first two clauses presuppose that the Brother actually expects a sad encounter with a woman that morning. In the third clause, the presupposition of a spiritual encounter rather than a physical one is deductive. It is also presupposed, based on our common knowledge of the Bible, that Brother Jero must have a temptation, that morning, through a woman which would cause him to sin. This interpretation is appropriate based on the foregrounding of the fourth utterance made by Brother Chume. But Utterance 6, made by Brother Chume, contains only one clause and tends to reinforce the presupposition that women are evil in his preceding utterance 4. It also

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presupposes that his perception that women are naturally or generally bad is true. This verbal interaction between Jero and Chume follows the principle of conversational turn-taking such that when Jero makes a statement Chume re-echoes it, performs it or responds to it in the most appropriate way. Thus in Utterance 7, which contains only two clauses, Jero reminisces about the premonition he had had before his encounter with the “sinful woman”, in Utterance 1 Clause 4, who is subsequently presupposed as one of the “Daughters of Discord” in Utterance 7 Clause 2. Little wonder, he must say a personal prayer for her. From this, it becomes clear to the audience that Jero is oblivious of the fact that the woman he had an encounter with is Chume’s wife. Thus Jero’s ignorance is presupposed in that light. Paradoxically, Chume, Jero’s Assistant, himself is unaware that the “sinful woman” and one of the ‘Daughters of Discord” is his own wife.

However, Jero’s ignorance soon vanishes in Chume’s response in Utterance 8. This utterance, which contains nine clauses, narrates Chume’s irritating experience because how he was coerced to carry her and her luggage on his bicycle to lodge in front of one of her debtors’ house without any gratitude or appreciation. Thus, in this utterance, Chume’s ignorance of the wife’s debtor as Jero is presupposed. It is implicitly expresses the presupposition that Chume’s wife is a trader who is owed by some of her customers. It also expresses the presupposition that Chume’s wife is a troublesome woman. Clause 8 of the utterance presupposes that she is not only worrisome but also warlike.

Disappointingly, this account of his sad experience with his wife is dismissed and termed as a “trial” by Jero in Utterance 9 Clause 1. The audience is most likely to interpret this response to mean that Jero is a true prophet who follows the biblical injunction of forgiveness and seeing sad experiences as trials that must be patiently endured. Clause 2 is an unfinished statement which may be seen as an ellipsis that can be filled as “…patiently endured.” This seems to lead to a pause as a result of Jero’s sudden realization of the fact that the woman whom Chume refers may actually be the sinful woman whom he owes and who had earlier assaulted him in his house. Thus clause 1 presupposes that Jero is a true prophet while clause 2 presupposes his suspicion of who Chume’s wife is. As a result of this suspicion, Jero asks Chume a direct question in clauses 3 to 6. Chume’s affirmative response in Utterance 10 clearly confirms Jero’s suspicion to be true which presupposes that Jero is not the man of God that Chume regards him to be. The presuppositions of shock and surprise are expressed in the following Utterance 11 in which Jero deduces correctly that that woman is Chume’s wife in the first clause and asks a question in the second to confirm his initial suspicion that she is a trader to whom he owes money. This is the “someone”, Chume is not sure of in Utterance 9 clause 6, “who owes her”.

Socially and contextually, Chume’s ignorance is presupposed in two ways. One, he is ignorant of the identity of the man who owes his wife money; two, he is ignorant of the fact the man is Brother Jero. But Jero, through his subtle interrogation of Chume in Utterance 9 Clause 6 and Utterance 11 Clause 2, is able to deduce and confirm that the woman is Chume’s wife and a trader. In spite of this deduction and confirmation, Jero wants to be doubly sure. So he asks further probing questions in utterance 13 to ascertain the exact location of the debtor’s house. Chume’s answer in Utterance 14 makes Jero certain that that woman is actually brother Chume’s wife. This knowledge, in a way, seems to give Jero leeway because, earlier, Chume had complained about his ungracious, ungrateful and combative wife to him. This is perhaps why he mutters the clause, “So that is your wife….” in Utterance 15 to himself but loud enough for Chume to notice. Thus this utterance presupposes that Jero is now aware that the “sinful woman” is Chume’s wife. Naturally, it is impossible for him, as a self-acclaimed prophet, to suggest that a man should seek revenge for an evil done to him whether justly or

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unjustly. Little wonder, before now, he had counselled Chume to accept his predicament as “a trial” which presupposes that both Jero and Chume belong to the Christian faith. And, perhaps, this is why when Chume then asks in Utterance 16, “Did you speak, prophet?” he quickly, in the first three clauses of Utterance 17, denies speaking claiming that he, Jero, “… was only thinking of how little women have changed since Eve, since Delilah…” But the audience and Jero, himself, know that he has told a lie. Thus, to the audience, Utterance 16 presupposes that Jero is not the true Christian he claims.

The presuppositions of insincerity, lust and charlatanism become visible as Jero, in Utterance 17 Clause 9, begins to narrate his encounter, “This morning alone I have been thrice in conflict with the Daughters of Discord.” Socially, we can interpret his utterance as mumbo jumbo, a deliberate attempt to deceive Chume. This is because he lumps a trader who makes legitimate efforts to collect the money he owes her with two other young women who are passersby after whom he lusts. He wants Chume to believe that these are trials and crosses and that is why, in Utterance 18, Chume says he will be glad to exchange crosses with the prophet. This might presuppose that Chume had other things in mind. This, as contextually expected, is promptly denied when Jero questions him in Utterance 19. Chume’s response in utterance 20, “I was only praying”, is not surprising. Both the prophet and his assistant are now confirmed as liars and charlatans because, earlier, Jero had attempted to deceive Chume and, now, Chume attempts to deceive Jero.

The presupposition of insincerity is further heightened and buttressed by subsequent utterances of Brother Jero. For instance, in the first two clauses of Utterance 21, Jero concurs with Chume that the only solution to their trials and crosses is “…praying.’ But from the third clause of the same utterance, he is no longer sure or certain what the will of God would be. This perhaps prepares the leeway for him awkward, who initial adverb needed, initially preaches tolerance, endurance, forgiveness and prayerfulness, to now advocate punishment for the “sinful woman” who has now become a “willful sinner”. Thus insincerity and hypocrisy are both presupposed here because Jero simply demonstrates here that he does not want to pay the money he owes Chume’s wife but also wants her punished, though indirectly, for daring to ask for her money. This is why he counsels Chume, in the last clause of Utterance 29, to “Take her home and beat her.” His reason for suggesting that is “Never show the discord within you family to the world.” This is because he wants to cover up his indebtedness to Chume’s wife. Up to this point, Chume is unaware of the relationship between Brother Jero and his wife. His assumption is that Jero has given a sincere instruction as a prophet of God. Chume’s simplicity and idiocy are presupposed in his own utterances that describes Jero as the “Holy one…” (Utterance 24) and “Prophet” (Utterance 28). This is the height of callousness demonstrated by many so-called prophets in our society.

Conclusion

Our examination of presuppositions in the 29 utterances of the extract from Wole Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero points to the fact that it is possible to explicate literary/dramatic discourses from a linguistic perspective. Just as in real life, presuppositions abound in the dramatic text that we examined. The initial utterances of the interlocutors trigger in the reader or audience positive presuppositions that are appropriate in light of their religious setting. Thus the social background of the characters helps in our understanding and interpretations of the presuppositions inherent in their utterances. For instance, the presuppositions of appreciation, meekness and prayerfulness are initially portrayed. But gradually, the presupposition that women are evil is expressed. Chume’s ignorance of the true relationship

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between Jero and his wife is offered to the audience for them to construct a presupposition. Jero’s ignorance that the woman he had had an encounter with earlier that is Chume’s wife is also presupposed. In the end, after his knowledge of the fact that the “sinful woman” is Chume’s wife, Jero’s callousness is presupposed. All in all, an insightful interpretation of the dramatic text is provided, by this linguistic analysis of the excerpt of Wole Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero, showing a subtle interface between linguistic and literary methods.

References

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Sellar, W. 1954. “Presupposing”, Philosophical Review Vol. 63, 197 – 215.

Stalnaker, R.C. 1974. “Pragmatic Presuppositions”, In: Rogers, Wall & Murphy 1997. Proceedings of the Texas Conference on Performatives, Presupposition & Implicature Washington: Centre for Applied Linguistics.

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Osoba, Joseph. “A Linguistic Analysis of Wole Soyinka’s The Trials of Brother Jero”, Crossroads. A Journal of English Studies 4 (1/2014),

34-49.

Appendix

(Brother Jero has just come in view. They all rush to help him back into the circle. He is a much altered man, his clothes torn and his face bleeding.)

JERO (slowly and painfully): Thank you, brothers, sisters. Brother Chume, kindly tell these friends to leave me. I must pray for the soul of that sinful woman. I must say a personal prayer for her. (Chume ushers them off. They go reluctantly, chattering excited.) Prayers this evening, as usual. Late afternoon.

CHUME (shouting after): Prayers late afternoon as always. Brother Jeroboam says God keep you till then. Are you alright, Brother Jero?

JERO Who would have thought that she would dare lift her hands against a prophet of God!

CHUME Women are a plague, brother.

JERO I had the premonition this morning that a woman would be my downfall today. But I thought of it only in the spiritual sense.

CHUME Now you see how it is, brother Jero.

JERO From the moment I looked out of my window this morning, I have been tormented one way or another by the Daughters of Discord.

CHUME (eagerly): That is how it is with me, Brother. Every day. Every morning and night. Only this morning my wife made take her to the house of some poor man, who she says owes her morning. She loaded enough on my bicycle to lay a siege for a week, and all the thanks I got was abuse.

JERO Indeed it must be a trial, Brother Chume…and it requires… (He becomes suspicious.) Brother Chume, did you say that your wife went to make camp only this morning at the house of a …of someone who owes her money?

CHUME Yes, I took her there myself.

JERO Er…indeed. (Coughs.) Is …your wife a trader?

CHUME Yes. Petty trading, you know. Wool, silk, cloth and all that stuff.

JERO Indeed. Quite an enterprising woman. (Hems.) Er…where was the house of this man…I mean, this man who owes her money?

CHUME Not very far from here. Ajete settlement, a mile or so from here. I did not even know the place existed until today.

JERO (to himself): So that is your wife….

CHUME Did you speak, prophet?

JERO No. no. I was only thinking of how little women have changed since Eve, since Delilah, since Jezebel. But we must be strong at heart. I have my own cross too, Brother Chume. This morning alone I have been thrice in conflict with the Daughters of Discord. First there was ... no, never mind that. There is another who crosses my path every day. Goes to swim just over there and then waits for me to be in the midst of my meditation before my eyes….

CHUME (to himself, with deep feeling): I’d willingly change crosses with you.

JERO What, Brother Chume?

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CHUME I was only praying.

JERO Ah. That is the only way. But er …I wonder really what the will of God would be in this matter. After all, Christ himself was not averse to using the whip when occasion demanded it.

CHUME (eagerly): No, he did not hesitate.

JERO In that case, since, Brother Chume, your wife seems such a wicked, willful sinner, I think….

CHUME Yes, Holy one…?

JERO You must take her home tonight….

CHUME Yes….

JERO And beat her.

CHUME (kneeling, clasps Jero’s hand in his): Prophet!

JERO Remember, it must be done in your own house. Never show the discord within you family to the world. Take her home

FROM Joseph Osoba The University of Lagos

The Trials of Brother Jero Summary

The Trials of Brother Jero follows a day in the life of Jero, a self-named prophet who is eager to present this turn of events to an audience to proudly illustrate his wise and cunning nature. The play opens with Brother Jero offering a monologue on his beginnings: He tells the audience that he was born a prophet and reveals his view of prophethood as a "trade." Jero was able to acquire his current beach-side realty in the name of his former master, the Old Prophet, by leading a campaign against the other prophets and followings also claiming the land. He then drove the Old Prophet off his own land, however, and midway into his monologue the Old Prophet enters to curse Jero, wishing his downfall via women. Jero presents this day as one in which the Old Prophet's wish is almost fulfilled.

In Scene 2 the audience is introduced to Chume, a messenger in the government, and Amope, his ill-tempered wife. Amope is determined to receive money that Brother Jero owes her for a velvet cape that he purchased from her, unbeknownst to Chume, who is his most faithful penitent. Amope camps outside his door and after a brief confrontation Jero sneaks out to the beach, where he tells his followers he lives. Chume arrives at the beach and meets Jero in Scene 3, eager to list his grievances about his wife. Jero has told Chume that he must not beat his wife, despite repeated requests from Chume. As the rest of the congregation gathers, a fight between a Drummer Boy and a woman temporarily distracts Jero, who leaves to attempt to mitigate the fight while Chume temporarily takes over his sermon, empowered. When Jero returns, exhausted, he discovers that Chume's wife is in fact Amope and grants him permission to beat her, hoping it will take care of his problems as well.

In Scene 4, Chume is emboldened to talk back to Amope. He soon discovers, however, that she man who is her debtor is in fact Brother Jero, and that his prophethood is built on a web of lies. Instead of beating Amope, he takes off to confront Jero. In Scene 5 Jero is in the process of converting another penitent, a Member of the House, by playing on his desire to become a Minister, when Chume arrives with the intention of killing Jero. Jero flees, as the Penitent interprets his disappearance as a sign of his divinity. When Jero returns he has arranged for Chume to be taken to an insane asylum, and his newest Penitent is more strongly convinced of his status as a Prophet, dedicating himself to Jero as his "Master."

The Trials of Brother Jero Character List

Brother Jero

Brother Jero is the main character of the play and the leader of his self-organized Brotherhood of Jero. He is a “suave” and false prophet who preaches to the community in hopes of attracting more followers. Although claiming to have been born a prophet, Jero frequently admits to his acts of deception and above all else desires to be held in high esteem as "Brother Jero, Articulate Hero of Christ’s Crusade."

Old Prophet

The Old Prophet is Brother Jero’s former tutor, whom Brother Jero later drove off his own land. He appears only in the first scene, in which he curses Brother Jero for his maltreatment.

Chume

Chume is one of Brother Jero’s most loyal and trusting assistants, a chief messenger in the local government office. Chume is trapped in an unhappy marriage with his wife, Amope, and frequently turns to Brother Jero for advice.

Amope

Amope is Chume’s wife, who is unhappy and self-righteous, constantly arguing with Amope and other characters about the injustices they have caused her.

Trader

In Scene II, a woman trader selling smoked fish appears briefly on her way to town. She is stopped by Amope, argues with her about pricing, and leaves cursing her.

Drummer Boy

A drummer boy appears in the third scene, pursued hastily by a woman who has accused him of using his drums to abuse her father. He insists to Brother Jero that he has not done anything wrong, and begs the woman to not take away his drums.

Member of Parliament

This cowardly Member of Parliament holds a position in the Federal House but desperately wants a position as minister. Although he constantly practices his political speeches on the beach, he is too afraid to act on these desires. While he initially distrusts Jero, the Member of Parliament is ultimately put under his spell when Jero prophesies that he will one day be Minister of War.

The Trials of Brother Jero Themes

Gender

The characters of The Trials of Brother Jero are bound to their gender roles, with many personality traits explicitly attributed to a character’s sex. Men constantly struggle to steer clear of the temptation of sin posed by women: Brother Jero himself admits that he has “one weakness—women,” the basis of the central conflict between his desired self-image and reality. Chume, too, fights the urge to beat Amope for her constant pestering. Women are described as “fickle,” “the plague," and “daughters of discord." This characterization by Brother Jero and Chume places blame on women for the burden they place on men and their sinful nature. The women of the play, on the other hand, feel tied to the will of men and therefore similarly limited. Amope complains that “it is a tough life for a woman” as she must depend on Chume and what he provides, which she deems insufficient for her needs. This barrier between men and women causes lapses in understanding and strained relationships. In this way, the theme of gender drives much of the plot in the play.

Faith and Religion

Soyinka's play is widely considered a satire of proselytizing faith. Brother Jero’s success rests entirely on the blind faith of his followers, whom he is able to win over easily by offering false and fantastic prophesies. Thus the virtue in faith alone is called into question, and Christianity—at least in the form found with characters like Brother Jero—scrutinized. Although Brother Jero loses one follower in Chume at the end of the play, he is able to win over another, the Member of Parliament, just as quickly, speaking to the power of faith in its aim to fulfill personal hope and desire. Soyinka’s play forces the reader to question when belief is and is not justified, and to consider who has the power to claim and impart knowledge.

Social Status

The influence of social status is also a driving force in the play: Brother Jero's false prophethood is driven by a desire to elevate himself to a nearly divine status in his community. Yet just as this drives his willing deceit of others, it influences the willingness of others to be deceived. Brother Jero in fact plays on the same desires in others to elevate his own status: Chume relies on Jero's prophecy that he will become a Chief Clerk, while the Member of the House is seduced by the power that will come with Jero's prophecy of his becoming Minister for War. In this way, the quest for increased social status and the privileges it brings influences every character in the play, regardless of their current social standing.

Communication

The role of communication in theater, and especially in Soyinka's play, is important, as Soyinka pays special attention to its influence in power dynamics. One of Amope’s most powerful characteristics is her ability to insult even while speaking indirectly around the subject, whereas Jero's lofty and elegant wording is integral to his perception of himself as superior to those he converts. Similarly, Chume expresses his confusion and emotion through a change in his speech, relying on pidgin during moments of tension and excitement. Each character's words are carefully chosen, as words misunderstood or misinterpreted push the play forward.

Politics

Soyinka is not only poking fun at religion but also criticizing politics; often, as the play reveals, there is a large overlap between the two. Politics appears at an official level, such as the supposed low salary granted to Chume as the local government's messenger and the Member of the House's desire for a position of more power, between the local village and the central government. But it also exists at a more informal level, between each character attempting to figure out her/his role in a country still negotiating its new independence from Britain. Jero's very rise to power was a result of what he called a successful "campaign" against other prophets and their followings, and as the self-elected leader, or tyrant, of the Brotherhood of Jero, his every action is political, serving to consolidate his own power.

Financial vs. Intrinsic Value

The assignment of value to peoples, professions, and goods is central to The Trials of Brother Jero. While religion ordinarily serves to hold value in itself, Jero uses his Brotherhood as a tool to achieve power. Rather than valuing his followers as people and ends in themselves, Jero assigns value as if they were goods to be traded and swapped. This is demonstrated when, following his loss of Chume's faith, Jero attempts to convert the Member, as if balancing his books. In doing so, Jero commodifies religion, turning toward a system that understands only financial gains. Through his actions, Soyinka seems to be asking his audience how we should properly value each other and our lives, in a world where people focus increasingly on making financial gains.

Individual vs. Community

The ever-present and observant crowd is quite prominent throughout the play, watching scenes of provocation and fighting, such as Amope's fight with Chume. The tension between the needs of the individual and the community is apparent in Amope's firmly held belief that everyone wishes her ill and that she can only rely on herself. Chume is first empowered by his interaction with an eager crowd, stepping in to take over Jero's sermon: Once the crowd believes Chume's words, he believes them as well. But even as the individual finds strength in the support of the community, he or she struggles to find strength in its absence. Chume seems to become even more incensed as the crowd watching his attack on Amope questions his actions, as he breaks from society's expectations and understanding of what is rational to pursue Jero. The pressure of an always-alert crowd also plagues Jero, who constantly thinks to inform and share secrets with the play's audience, as if asking for their approval.

The Trials of Brother Jero Quotes and Analysis

"It becomes important to stand out, to be distinctive. I have set my heart after a particular name. They will look at my velvet cape and they will think of my goodness. Inevitably they must begin to call me ... the velvet-hearted Jeroboam. (Straightens himself.) Immaculate, Jero, Articulate Hero of Christ's Crusade..."

Jero, 14

In this quotation, Brother Jero reveals his ultimate aim to be a figure of high esteem within his community. Yet although his intention is to be known as velvet-hearted, or kind, his statement reveals the emphasis that Jero places on image rather than on his actions. Here we understand that Brother Jero is not concerned about his actions earning his name so much as his outward appearance reflecting it.

"You've got to have a name that appeals to the imagination—because the imagination is a thing of the spirit—it must catch the imagination of the crowd. Yes, one must move with modern times. Lack of colour gets one nowhere even in the prophet's business."

Jero, 14

This quotation reveals Jero's view of the relationship between imagination and spirit, essential for the faith of his followers. Jero feels pressure to "appeal" to his followers by advertising his prophecy and teachings. His mention of modernity also points to what Soyinka evaluates as an increasingly artificial nature of religious communities and their followings. A modern consumer culture has pushed even prophecy into becoming a "business," as Jero states.

"I am glad I got here before any customers—I mean worshippers—well, customers if you like. I always get that feeling every morning that I am a shop-keeper waiting for customers. The regular ones come at definite times. Strange, dissatisfied people. I know they are dissatisfied because I keep the, dissatisfied. Once they are full, they won't come again. Like my good apprentice, Brother Chume. He wants to beat his wife, but I won't let him. If I do, he will become contented, and then that's another of my flock gone forever. As long as he doesn't beat her, he comes here feeling helpless, and so there is no chance of his rebelling against me. Everything, in fact, is planned."

Jero, 14-15

Here Brother Jero reveals his strategy for attracting and retaining his worshippers, whom he sees as customers. Religion and prophecy for Brother Jero are commodified: He values his human relationships merely as business transactions and thus views prophecy as a means to material ends. Soyinka aims to point out the irony in this understanding, as true faith rests on the immaterial. In this quotation Brother Jero also indicates that he has lost other followers in his "flock" in the past (his diction further dehumanizing his worshippers), foreshadowing the fate of Chume. The reader understands that Jero's power rests on his control, as he emphasizes his ability to "plan" the fate of his worshipper

"From the moment I looked out of my window this morning, I have been tormented one way or another by the daughters of discord."

Jero, 21

This quotation reflects the play's central characterization of women as vexing and malevolent figures. Jero's statement places blame on the female sex for his personal failures, and it also condemns women to the realm of permanent sin.

"You didn't hear me complain. You did your best, but if my toes are to be broken one by one just because I have to monkey on your bicycle, you must admit it's a tough life for a woman."

Amope, 9

This quotation is one of the first lines of dialogue attributed to a woman in the play. It immediately draws attention to the hardship of women. Here Amope, the only female character consistently highlighted in the play, underscores the irony of the expectations placed on women and the way in which women act these expectations out. Amope feels like she cannot complain although she perceives great hardship. Of course, her actions belie her words: She is in fact complaining. Although the hardship she references in this quotation is greatly exaggerated, Amope here demonstrates her intelligence, her ability to have her voice heard.

"Actually I knew it was he the moment he opened his mouth. Only Brother Chume reverts to that animal jabber when he gets his spiritual excitement. And that is much too often for my liking. He is too crude, but that is to my advantage. It means he would never think of setting himself up as my equal."

Jero, 16

In this quotation, Brother Jero reveals his distaste for pidgin, which he disparagingly describes as "animal jabber." Although he criticizes Chume's "crude" manners, he also reveals that they are essential to maintaining his own position as Chume's trusted leader. This quotation highlights Jero's own conception of his false prophethood: He must invent a distance between himself and his subjects in order to maintain his elevated status. Jero's use of the word "animal" is not only condescending but also filled with layers of historical connotations, especially as colonizing white settlers in Africa frequently dehumanized Africans by referring to them in the same way. Thus Jero does not really intend to help Chume or take him seriously; he is equally willing to dehumanize Chume to consolidate his own power.

"Yes, Father, those who are Messenger today, make them Senior Service tomorrow. ... Those who are petty trader today, make them big contractor tomorrow. Those who dey sweep street today, give them their own big office tomorrow. If we dey walka today, give them their own bicycle tomorrow. Those who have bicycle today, they will ride their own car tomorrow. ... I say those who dey push bicycle, give them big car tomorrow. Give them big car tomorrow. Give them big car tomorrow, give them big car tomorrow."

Chume, 20-21

This quotation marks the first step of Chume's transition from serving as Brother Jero's blind, faithful follower to finding his own voice. Chume originally feels uncomfortable temporarily taking over Brother Jero's sermon, speaking calmly and hesitantly measuring his words. However, as he continues to preach to his captivated audience, Chume, too, begins to believe his own words and will them into being, becoming more animated as the crowd matches his own enthusiasm. Chume and the crowd enter a reciprocal relationship where the crowd's passion empowers Chume, and vice versa. As Chume believes more in his own words and what they predict, his language becomes less formal and more impassioned; he begins to use some pidgin, often regarded with disdain by elites like Brother Jero. The irony here is that Chume's candid, casual use of pidgin seems to make him more able to connect with the crowd he addresses.

"Chume, fool! O God, my life done spoil. My life done spoil finish. O God a no' get eyes for my head. Na lie. Na big lie. Na pretence 'e de pretend that wicked woman. She no go collect nutin! She no' mean to sleep for outside house. The prophet na' in lover. ... O god, wetin a do for you wey you go spoil my life so? Wetin make you vex for me so? I offend you? Chume, foolish man you life done spoil. Your life don spoil yea, ye..."

Chume, 29

This quote encapsulates Chume's full transition, once he has discovers Jero's inventions and lies. Chume laments his former blind faith in Jero; because his faith in the Brotherhood was central to his life, his discovery of Jero's fallacy leads him to question all constants in his life, including his wife's fidelity. As Chume becomes increasingly sure of the reality of his situation, he increases his use of pidgin. What makes less and less sense and becomes more disjointed to the reader, or viewer, becomes clearer and more obvious to Chume. This version of reality, however, is pursued just as dogmatically, and is just as flawed, as Chume's original belief system.

"Now he... he is already a member of my flock. He does not know it of course, but he is a follower. All I need do is claim him. Call him and say to him, My dear Member of the House, your place awaits you ... Or do you doubt it? Watch me go to work on him."

Jero, 28

In this scene Jero approaches his next penitent, aware that he has lost Chume's faith. Jero's attitude toward the Member of the House is the same as it had been toward Chume, however, signifying no lessons learned on Jero's part. Jero sees the Member, too, as an animal he can tame and then "claim" by incorporating him into his "flock." Jero thus sees his followers just as a shepherd might see own sheep: as tools to serve a purpose. Jero also explicitly addresses the audience, anticipating their doubt--perhaps, a bit of his own as well. Jero deeply values the art of performance, as his profession itself is an act, and this new opportunity as a next setting, into which he eagerly invites the audience.

"I don't know what the world is coming to. A thief of a prophet, a swindler of a fish-seller and now that thing with lice on his head comes begging for money."

Amope, 13

This quotation from Amope ends Scene 2 and further illuminates Amope’s personality. Constantly playing the role of both the victimized and the superior, Amope self-isolates. While it is true that she has been "swindled" by Jero, who will not pay her back, she attributes a sense of malice or deception to almost everyone she meets, acting aggressively toward both the fish-seller and the drummer child. Amope punctuates these beliefs and actions by placing blame on "the world," acting as if everything is entirely in her hands, while she serves to perpetuate tensions and conflict.

The Trials of Brother Jero Summary and Analysis of Scene 1

Summary

In Scene One, Jero introduces himself directly to the audience. The setting is a completely dark stage with the spotlight shining directly on Jero, emphasizing the religious nature and importance of his role. He is described as "suave," a "heavily but neatly bearded man" with hair "thick and high."

Jero immediately asserts that he is a prophet, "by birth and by inclination." He was born with thick hair that covered his eyes and neck, convincing his parents of his prophethood. He laments that prophethood is no longer as respectable as it had been in the past; he explains that a struggle among competitors for land on the beach degraded the profession until the Town Council stepped in to "settle the prophets' territorial warfare once and for all." We learn that Jero helped his master, the prophet who educated him, win land through a campaign of "six dancing girls from the French territory, all dressed as Jehovah's Witnesses."

Jero admits, however, that he was really intending to help himself. Yet he tells the audience "the beach is hardly worth having these days," as worshippers have depleted and gaining converts becomes increasingly difficult. He complains that "they all prefer high life to the rhythm of celestial hymns" and attributes a lack of worshippers to the popularity of television. As he is explaining that he aims to show the audience an important day in his life, "a day when I thought for a moment that the curse of my old master was about to be fulfilled," the Old Prophet enters the scene.

Shaking his fist, the Old Prophet interrupts Jero, to call him an "ungrateful wretch" and admonish him for driving him off his own land, neglecting the training he had received. He curses Brother Jero but becomes inaudible as Jero continues his explanation. Finally he cries, "I curse you with the curse of the daughters of discord. May they be your downfall" and goes offstage, as Brother Jero continues. He admits that women are his only weakness but insists that he would not risk his profession and calling by giving into the temptation. He insists that he has never been involved in a scandal with women. He sets up the next scene by concluding, "And it was a sad day indeed when I woke up one morning and the first thin to meet my eyes was a daughter of Eve. You can compare that feeling with waking and finding a vulture crouched on your bed post." The stage goes black.

Analysis

The first scene introduces Brother Jero as a confident, self-righteous character with little conscience. He has no qualms about deceiving his old tutor, and is confident in his ability to convince the audience that his actions are warranted. Soyinka makes clear that he speaks with "accustomed loftiness," emphasizing that he is well versed in the art of influence, which Jero aims to show the audience by presenting them with a day of his life.

Also important is the managerial nature of Jero's profession and the language with which he discusses it. Jero must sell his prophecies like a businessman, eagerly convincing the audience of his authenticity and capabilities. Yet he also admits to recent hardships, posed by modernity, in what he calls "the trade." Already the audience has a sense of Soyinka's satire, as Jero's entire sense of self is built off a phony prophecy and actions unbefitting of a true prophet.

The Trials of Brother Jero Summary and Analysis of Scene 2

Summary

Scene 2 opens in the early morning, set outside of Brother Jero's hut in a fishing village. Chume arrives into the scene on a bicycle, with Amope, his wife, riding on the handlebars. They pull up beside the hut, on Amope's command; the bike tilts to one side and Amope stops it from falling with her foot. With a "tone of martyrdom" she immediately accuses Chume of breaking her ankle, and beings to limp. Chume criticizes her complaining, and Amope responds that she is not complaining, but that he must admit "it's a tough life for a woman."

The pair continue to bicker aimlessly, as Amope continues to claim that she is not "the kind of person who would [ever] think evil of anyone" while she criticizes Chume for his treatment of her. Meanwhile, Chume unloads a bag, saucepans, two bottles of water, a box of matches, a piece of yam, two tins, a spoon, and a knife from his bicycle, placing them next to Amope. Amope snaps that he has forgotten her mat, but Chume replies that she has a bed at home and that he is late for work.

Now Amope turns toward a criticism of Chume's job as a Chief Messenger in the local government, noting that his other friends are ministers, "riding in long cars." More than exasperated, Chume flees from the scene as she talks. She continues her monologue even in his absence, explaining that she thinks he will not "make the effort to become something in life." At this point, Jero opens the window of his hut, staring outside for a few moments in meditation. He is calm until he sees Amope's back from his view. Confused, he opens his door cautiously for a better look, and realizing that it is Amope shuts the door quickly. Amope opens a notebook and goes over figures, as Jero attempts to discretely climb out the window without her notice. "Where do you think you're going?" she asks him without even turning around. He jumps back into his house.

Amope says that Jero has owed her one pound, eight shillings, and nine pence for three months, as she closes her notebook and beings to prepare her breakfast. Jero opens the door slightly and now addresses Amope uncomfortable. "I hope you have not come to stand in the way of Christ and his work," he tries. Amope circumvents his evasion, calling him a "bearded debtor" and insisting that she will not let him leave until he has paid her. Jero insists that he must go to the post office to receive the money, and goes back into his hut when Amope calls his bluff.

A woman trader carrying a bowl on her head now passes through the scene, and Amope calls out to her to ask what she is selling. The trader is reluctant to stop and asks Amope if she is buying to trader further or for herself, to which Amope replies that she must first know what the trader is selling. The trader is selling smoked fish and stops to take it out for Amope, although she says that she does not ordinarily stop before getting to the market. At Amope's request, she says she is selling a dozen fish for one pound and three shillings and no less. Amope asserts that her fish are from last week and that they smell, while the trader warns her not to ruin her luck for the morning and retorts that maybe the smell is Amope herself. Amope responds negatively, and the two trade insults as the trader packs her fish off and begins to leave. Amope demands that the trader "take your beggar's rags out of my sight," and she responds, "May you never do good in all your life."

At this moment, Amope notices that Jero has just left through the window of his hut, and jumps up. She accuses him of being a thief, questions his prophethood, and then turns back to the trader who is also gone. As she is cursing both Jero and the trader, a drummer boy enters and approaches Amope. She immediately turns toward him and demands that he leave. The boy runs, while beating insults on his drum. The lights fade on Amope who is still complaining of the "thief of a prophet, a swindler of a fish-seller and now that thing with lice on his head."

Analysis

This scene establishes Amope as a powerful female character who threatens almost everyone she encounters. Jero, Chume, the trader, and the drummer boy all fear her anger and constant criticism. Although Amope curses almost everyone she meets, the audience is aware that she is very unhappy with her own life and limited options. She must depend on Chume as her husband and on Jero for his debts to be repaid; both men she feels she cannot trust. Amope is ultimately left alone in front of Jero's hut, but also alone in lack of real companionship, with no one to complain to but herself.

The Trials of Brother Jero Summary and Analysis of Scene 3

Summary

Scene 3 represents the majority of the rising action of the play. The scene opens at the beach, where palm leaves and stakes mark the land of Jero's church. A cross and rosary hangs from one of many empty bottles on the ground. Brother Jero is wearing a white velvet cape, standing with his divine rod. He first addresses the audience, saying that he is unsure how Amope found his house. He reveals that he had brought his fine cape from her, and that she did not originally question his ability to pay. Jero explains that he wished to procure such a cape so that his followers would call him “the velvet-hearted Jeroboam.” He aims to be known as “Immaculate Jero, the Articulate Hero of Christ’s Crusade.”

Jero suddenly becomes very angry at the prospect of having had to escape through his own window, and curses Amope. As he does, a young girl wearing little clothing passes by his sight. He explains that she basses by every morning before going to swim. Jero launches back into a monologue, admitting that he feels like “a shop-keeper waiting for customers.” He adds that his followers are “dissatisfied” because he keeps them so, referencing Chume specifically. Jero says that although Chume wants to beat his wife, Jero will never let him do so, because keeping him under Jero’s power means that he will not rebel.

The girl, now clean after swimming and with much better appearance, returns to walk back across the stage; Jero stares as she passes, calling it a “divine transformation.” He shouts to the Lord to pray for the power to resist temptation. As he leans over his knees with hands together, Chume arrives. Jero asks him to pray as well, and he submits. Together they invoke the Lord, Abraham, David, Samuel, Job, Elijah, and Jesus, becoming increasingly passionate. Finally, Jero stands up to address Chume and inquire why he is not at work in the morning. Chume says he has called in sick, and Jero sees that he wishes to pray to relieve his troubles. Speaking to the audience only, Jero refers to Chume’s excitement while praying as “animal jabber,” calling him crude but admitting this means that “he would never think of setting himself up as my equal.” He then mentions that most of his followers believe he lives on the beach, and that “it does them good to believe I am something of an ascetic.”

Jero returns to coax Chume into silent meditation, until Chume bursts out insisting that Jero must let him beat his wife. Jero says it is not the will of God, as Chume desperately insists, speaking in passionate pidgin, that his wife will be his downfall. Jero asks God to forgive Chume, calling him a sinner. He continues instructing Chume as other worshippers enter, joining in with the prayer. Jero says that Chume’s wife is his “heaven-sent ritual” and then begins to address the audience alone. He reveals that he prophesied that the first-arriving worshipper will become a chief in his town, and that another of his followers will become prime minister of a yet-to-be-formed Mid-North-East State. Another of his penitents desperately wants children. He turns back to his congregation, and summons Jero once again. The congregation begins to sing and dance, and Jero gives Chume bottles to fill with seawater.

As he leaves, the drummer boy runs onstage looking over his shoulder, followed by a woman, Jero’s neighbor, who is chasing him. Jero inquires what the drummer did; he has been accused of insulting the woman’s father but denies his guilt. They both run off stage quickly while Chume reenters with the water, which Jero intends to bless. But the two reappear, and Jero feels the obligation to run after them, leaving Chume with the task of blessing the water. Chume leads the chorus when one penitent separates herself from the group, shouting incoherently in spasm. Chume calls desperately for Jero, and unable to find him hesitantly sprinkles some of the holy water on the penitent and crosses her. He begins to ask for her forgiveness, and gaining confidence with the consistent cries of “Amen” from the congregation, continues on his own sermon asking God for future successes. As he is passionately speaking, the woman again enters, drums in hand. The drummer boy follows, begging for his drums to be returned. The penitent then points out Brother Jero’s return: He is bleeding, with his clothes torn.

Jero orders everyone to leave, so that he can pray for the “soul of that sinful woman” on his own. He tells Chume he is shocked that a woman would “dare lift her hand against a prophet of God” and that he’d sensed that women would cause him trouble today. Chume agrees, citing his experience with his wife (whom Jero still does not realize is Amope) in the morning. As Chume continues his story and Jero makes the connection that Chume’s wife is Amope, Jero alters his advice to Chume for his own benefit. He says that since Chume’s wife “seems such a wicked, willful sinner,” Chume must beat her. Chume is overjoyed, but Jero adds that he must do it within his own household. Jero capitalizes on Chume’s glee and blind trust by adding that the Son of God appeared to him and called Jero a knight: “He named me the Immaculate Jero, Articulate Hero of Christ’s Crusade,” he tells the gullible Chume. Chume leaves in awe, bidding farewell to “Brother Jero—the immaculate.” Jero is left on stage holding his cape.The Trials of Brother Jero Summary and Analysis of Scene 4

Summary

Scene 4 opens in front of Jero's home later that day -- Amope has been waiting there during the aforementioned plot. Chume is finishing his meal, complimenting Amope, who has still found something to complain to Chume about: In this instance, she claims he has not brought her any clean water. Emboldened by his previous conversation with Jero, Chume insists that he did not forget the water, saying, "I just did not bring it." He then orders Amope to pack up and says they are returning home. Skeptical of his motives, Amope accuses Chume of being drunk. She refuses to leave, saying she will not pack until she has received the money she is owed. She continues to protest, arguing that Chume's small salary alone is not enough to support her, as Chume packs up and prepares for departure. Even Sanitary Inspector would be a better job, she insists.

To this, Chume replies starkly, "Shut your big mouth!" Amope is astonished, and challenges Chume to continue his aggression. He replies that his "period of abstinence is over" and that his "cross has been lifted off my shoulders by the prophet."

Amope is now genuinely concerned, believing that Chume has gone mad. She, too, turns to God, begging for help. Chume orders her to get on the bike, but she refuses in fear, saying that she will find her own way home. Chume approaches her as she tries to back away, and she runs back toward the prophet's home, banging on the door and crying to be let in. Inside, Jero simply puts his fingers in his ears and mutters, "Blasphemy!"

Chume lifts Amope up, to her repeated and escalated screams. She now threatens to call the police, shouting for the prophet, and Chume threatens her by lifting his fist. Jero "gasps in mock-horror," then shakes his head and leaves. Chume orders Amope once again to get on the bike, to which Amope replies, "I won't get on that thing unless you kill me first."

Now neighbors are surrounding the scene, and Amope shouts that they can bear witness to the scene. She proclaims that she forgives all those who have caused her "evil" and forgives her debtors, "especially the prophet who has got me into all this trouble." She explicitly names Brother Jeroboam as this prophet, shouting that he can keep the velvet cape that he bought from her if he "curse[s] this foolish man."

Suddenly, hearing Amope mention Jero and his debts to her, Chume appears confused and turns away, telling Amope to shut up. The surrounding crowd grows more anxious, whispering to one another, but no one intervenes. He then approaches Amope, as she continues to pound on Jero's door. "Did I hear you say Prophet Jeroboam?" Amope is still shouting that Chume will kill her, but he insists that he will only touch her if she does not answer his question. He pushes further, asking Amope if Brother Jero lives in the house whose door she is facing. She only replies, "Kill me."

The nearest member of the crowd confirms that the house indeed belongs to Brother Jero. Astonished, Chume turns to stare at the house in silence, occasionally muttering "So.... so...." as he puts together the pieces. The crowd and Amope look to him in anticipation. Finally, he starts toward his bike, appearing to have made sense of Brother Jero's intentions. "So...suddenly he decides I may beat my wife, eh? For his own convenience," he says. He removes all belongings and packages from the bicycle and, before riding off, demands that Amope remain in place until he returns.

Amope addresses the crowd, saying she has never before seen Chume act in such a way. She claims he is mad, and confirms this when a bystander asks for verification. If that is the case, the bystander responds, Amope must send Chume to Brother Jero; she relates a story of a brother of hers whom Jero cured of the devil. Amope responds that this prophet is merely a debtor, and "that's all he knows." The scene closes on Amope unpacking the bundles that Chume had removed from his bike.

Analysis

This scene represents that peak of the play's rising action, as Jero's fallacies are revealed to Chume. Chume has finally decided to act on his own volition, making his first decision in the play that is not reliant on the opinions of Jero or Amope. It is ironic that in moments of real fear, Amope, too, relies on Jero, turning to a power considered--if not by her, then by most others--higher than her own. In this moment, Amope will herself to believe in Jero's power as well. Yet she is just as quick to dismiss him once again, when out of Chume's angry hands.

Jero is satisfied with his presence in the scene, unknown to all others, as if he is omniscient, watching the characters act out the plot of a play he has already written. His "mock-horror" at the scene unfolding before him stresses his own enjoyment at the disaster, and his ability to separate himself from the consequences of his actions as if he were indeed watching a play rather than engaging with reality. He is, of course, unwilling to take responsibility for his actions, as he sneaks out of the scene.

The Trials of Brother Jero Summary and Analysis of Scene 5

Summary

The final scene of the play opens at the beach at nightfall. A man, the Member of the House, is standing wearing an intricate agbada and passionately practicing a speech that the audience cannot hear. Jero watches the Member from afar with "lofty compassion." He explains that this man works for the Federal House but hopes to become a Minister. Although he comes every day to practice speeches, he does not ever make them, Jero tells the audience, calling him a "poor fish." He contemplates the member condescendingly before recalling what he has just witnessed from Chume.

Jero assumes that Chume has now "beaten his wife senseless," which he views as a shame only because it means Chume is "fulfilled and no longer needs me." However, Jero dismisses the loss of his most faithful follower as a "good price to pay for getting rid of my creditor." Turning his attention back to the Member, Jero proclaims that he is already a follower, although he is currently unaware. Demonstrating to the audience his ability to "claim" the Member, Jero calls out to him.

"Dear brother, do I not know you?" he shouts. The Member is originally startled, but turns to continue his speech. Jero continues, proclaiming that he knows the Member, just as was predicted by God. He insists that he carries a message from the Lord.

The haughty Member rejects Jero, considering himself above the prophet: "Go and practice your fraudulences on another person of greater gullibility," he responds. Jero laments that indeed, the Member must not belong to the Lord, but continues that "his favour" was directed toward the Member. Jero launches into a lengthy and elaborate description of his vision, in which he asserts that he saw the Member leading his country out of war. "And, at a desk, in a large gilt room, great men of the land awaited your decision. Emissaries of foreign nations hung on your word, and on the door leading into your office, I read the words, Minister for War [...],” he describes.

At the mention of this title, the Member turns around, facing Jero, who continues to emphasize this future position of power. He now begins to draw the member in by asking whether he should tell God to give this blessing to another, "more God-fearing" man? As the Member begins to move forward toward Jero, Jero stops him, saying he thinks that he sees the Devil in the Member's eyes. The Member tries to deny these claims by lifting his arms, as Jero continues that he might has the influence to change the Lord's mind. "Brother, are you of God or are you ranged among his enemies?" he asks the Member.

At this point, the lights fade on Jero, as Chume's voice grows apparent. Chume then appears on stage, talking to himself. He is still lamenting his former belief in the prophet, proclaiming that Jero is not a man of God who sleeps on the beach. He asks himself how the prophet and his wife know each other, and how they could have met, then stops, thinking, and grows even more impassioned. Now exclaiming that his life is ruined, he has convinced himself that Jero and Amope are in fact lovers, both deceiving Chume for two years. He also curses himself for being "foolish." His cries continue, but fade as the lights turn back to Jero, who is now preaching over the kneeling Member, whose eyes are closed and hands pressed together.

Jero bellows, asking the Lord for protection so that the Member can become a leader of the country. As his voice heightens, Chume runs in with a sword. He calls Jero an "adulterer" and "woman-thief" and makes clear his intentions to kill him. Jero flees, as the Member opens his eyes and comes to, uncertain of what has happened. In his view, the prophet has miraculously vanished. He first begs for Jero to return but is left more convinced that he had been "in the presence of God."

Jero re-enters the scene, unseen by the Member. Jero attests, to the audience, that "tomorrow, the whole town have heard about the miraculous disappearance of Brother Jeroboam." The member, meanwhile, sits down after taking his shoes off, insisting that he must show his faith and wait for Jero's re-appearance on this holy ground. He stands up again, determined.

Jero continues explaining to the audience what has transpired: He has already called the police, arranging for him to spend a year in an asylum. Meanwhile, the Member has begun to fall asleep; Jero says that when he reappears, it will be as if he has fallen from the sky. He plans to tell the Member that Chume is controlled by the Devil, and that they must act to have him sent away.

Jero then throws a pebble at the Member to awake him. A ring of light as a halo appears around his head, as the Member wakes up to see Jero right in front of him. He is shocked, falling on his face, and whispers, "Master!" as the scene comes to an end.

Analysis

Thus the play ends with a contented Jero who has seduced another follower, with promises of later power and privilege, to take the place of Chume, whom he has also dismissed as deranged. The scene highlights Jero's transactional relationship with his followers, as Jero simply writes off his loss of Chume as an unfortunate but necessary "price to pay." Thus Jero has managed to strip religion and faith of its basics, turning prophethood and prophecies into commodities. Yet those that willingly follow him are just as guilty of helping Jero take advantage of their greed and desperation.

The climax of the storyline, in which an enraged Chume approaches Jero intending to kill him, temporarily subverts the power structure that Jero maintains throughout. Jero is terrified, and too cowardly to explain himself or confront Chume, flees. This important moment reveals the very fine line Jero walks with his followers. Chume's anger could very well foreshadow that of future discoveries, and traps Jero into a relationship with his followers in which he is equally desperate and frightened. Underneath his act, Jero, too, is just as desperate for power and fame, as evidenced by the elaborate measures and web of lies he creates to elevate his own status. While luck is on his side so far, he is ultimately just as trapped as those he converts.

Soyinka's description of the final halo of light that appears around Jero's head stands as a final emphasis on his falsehood: The "red or some equally startling colour" is clearly unnatural, uncomfortable and forced. A red light seems to emphasize Jero's trickery and deception, placing him closer to the Satan that he often uses to scare others.

The Trials of Brother Jero Satire as a genre

Satire is a form of literature or theater that employs humor and irony to expose the flaws in a certain subject (e.g., corruption), usually with a critical or disparaging tone.

The Trials of Brother Jero Nigerian theater

Soyinka writes as a member and important shape, of the Nigerian literary and theatrical canon. Theater carries a rich tradition in Nigeria, as performances were traditionally a part of ritual and social gatherings. An early form of today's Nigerian theater, written primarily in Yoruba, emerged in the 1940s and was heavily reliant on local folklore. As Nigeria moved toward independence, theater was also used to serve a political purpose, apparent in even Soyinka's early writings. Soyinka's plays incorporate Nigerian and Yoruban traditions with his Western education, making his plays accessible and popular within both communities.

Other influential Nigerian playwrights include Hubert Ogunde (1916-1990), Ola Rotimi (1938-2000), and Philip Begho (1956-), among others.

from http://www.gradesaver.com