The blogger ibikunle Abraham laniyan churns out a new play A jest of Mistaken Love.It is perhaps the first sonnetic play in mordern age Enjoy the reading.
A Jest of Mistaken Love
Dramatis Personae
ROSALIND: A witty lady, disguised as the youth Ganymede.
CELIA: Her cousin and loyal friend.
ORLANDO: A noble gentleman in love with Rosalind.
Actus Primus, Scena Prima
Location: The Forest of Arden. Enter ROSALIND (as Ganymede) and CELIA.
ROSALIND:
Sweet Coz, what think'st thou of this sylvan life?
My woman's heart doth pine for my Orlando.
This green world, though free from courtly strife,
Doth lack the presence of my noble 'lando.
CELIA:
O, cease thy plaints! We sought this forest for escape,
Not that thy fancy might a fever catch.
Art thou not Ganymede, a youth in shape?
Thy man-ish guise and woman's woe ill match.
ROSALIND:
Peace, peace! I play a part, and must obey
The humours of the love-sick; 'tis my trade.
But soft, I hear a rustling through the spray;
'Tis he, the object of my charade!
(Enter ORLANDO, sighing profoundly, carving a name into a tree with his dagger.)
ORLANDO:
"Rosalind" in bark, "Rosalind" in the air,
The very leaves do whisper forth her name!
No sylvan spot is safe from my despair,
For all the forest doth reflect my flame.
ROSALIND:
(To Celia, aside)
Mark how the lovesick boy doth waste his time.
I'll sound him on't, and mock his shallow woe.
(Aloud, stepping forward)
Good sir, what art thou, that in a gentle clime
Dost mar the trees and make the forest slow
With heavy sighs? I'faith, you seem to bear
The mark of love, a sickness most absurd.
ORLANDO:
Absurd, say'st thou? Thou hast not felt the care
That breaks the heart and makes the soul a bird
Imprisoned in a cage of flesh and bone.
ROSALIND:
I have, sir, seen a thousand such as you,
Who wear their passion till the novelty's flown.
Dost thou love Rosalind? My life on't, it is not true.
ORLANDO:
By heaven, it is! I love beyond compare!
But thou, a boy, canst not this passion know.
ROSALIND:
I can, and will, if thou wilt but despair
As I direct. I'll cure thy love's o'erflow.
Court me, I pray thee, as I were thy love,
And I, a saucy boy, shall mock thy plea.
Through this conceit, thy truer heart I'll prove,
And cleanse thy soul of this fond malady.
ORLANDO:
Content! I'll play the game if thou dost ask.
CELIA:
(To Rosalind, aside)
A dangerous play, beneath a man-ish mask!
ROSALIND:
Then start, Orlando, court thy 'loved' with speed!
(Orlando kneels dramatically.)
ORLANDO:
Fair maid—or youth, or whatever thou art—
ROSALIND:
Nay, 'tis I who am the maid, a maid forlorn!
ORLANDO:
Then thus I plight my troth, my very heart!
ROSALIND:
(Interrupting)
Away, thou fickle youth, of woman born!
Thou art too slow, too simple in thy suit.
(Exeunt, as the "play" continues)
Actus Secundus, Scena Prima
Location: The Forest of Arden, near a mossy bank. Enter ORLANDO and ROSALIND (as Ganymede), speaking quickly, CELIA following behind.
ROSALIND:
A flimsy heat! As soon the fire shall choke
As thy true heart be by my grace well-won.
When I was 'Rosalind,' I wore no smile,
But frowned and wept, a mistress full of spite.
ORLANDO:
And I would woo thee so, with gentle guile,
Until the frown transformed to pure delight.
Tell me, sweet boy, if I should play this game,
How shall I win the love I seek to own?
ROSALIND:
With oaths like thunder and a heart aflame,
And verses carved on every bark and stone!
But wait, what ho! I have a sudden plan.
My cousin Celia here, whom thou dost know,
Shall be the priest, the holy church-bound man;
We'll marry us, and make the truth to flow
In jest, until the earnest truth appears.
What sayst thou, coz? Wilt bind us in this rite?
CELIA:
(Rolling her eyes)
A harmless game to ease the lover's fears.
I will, forsooth, if only to incite
Some mirth in this dull forest of despair.
But mind, the vows are forfeit to the wind.
ORLANDO:
I take my vow as sacred as the air!
My heart, my life, my soul are intertwined!
ROSALIND:
(Kneeling with Orlando before Celia)
Now, Reverend Celia, speak the words of power.
CELIA:
O'er this strange pair I have no jurisdiction,
But in this moment, in this fleeting hour,
I grant you both my forest benediction.
Orlando, wilt thou Rosalind here take,
For richer, poorer, till thy dying breath?
ORLANDO:
I will, with joy, for true love's gentle sake!
CELIA:
And wilt thou, Rosalind, take this man till death?
ROSALIND:
I will, good priest, albeit in this guise!
We are as one, until my skirt appears.
CELIA:
Then you are married in the forest's eyes.
ORLANDO:
My soul is lighter, vanish all my fears!
(They rise. Rosalind steps back, a knowing smile upon her face.)
ROSALIND:
Now go, my husband, tend unto thy task
At the Duke's camp. This game must have its pause.
We have an hour; keep up thy lover's mask,
And mind the forest's unwritten, natural laws.
ORLANDO:
An hour I grant, but not a moment more!
My heart flies back ere the clock strikes the sun.
(Exit Orlando, with a flourish and a deep bow.)
ROSALIND:
(To Celia, throwing off her cap)
O, what a coil the boy is in, my dear!
He thinks he loves a maid, and loves a boy;
Yet both are one, and shall be, ere the year
Doth wane. This jest shall bring us perfect joy!
He is my husband, by our playful rite.
Tomorrow's dawn shall bring the truth to light!
(Exeunt.)
Finis
A Jest of Mistaken Love
ORLANDO:
By all the vows that lovers ever spoke,
My passion burns as doth the mid-day sun!
n sonnet).
Below are the first few sonnets that continue the story of "A Jest of Mistaken Love," capturing the events and emotions in verse.
A Jest of Mistaken Love: In Sonnets
Sonnet I
Within the Forest, far from courtly spite,
Rosalind wanders, in a youth's array,
Her thoughts consumed by love's relentless light,
For young Orlando, whom she met the day
They fled the Duke. Now cloaked as Ganymede,
She hides her heart beneath a saucy cap,
And plants within the wood a hopeful seed,
To catch her love within a gentle trap.
Her cousin Celia, sworn to secrecy,
Doth follow on, though finding little mirth
In this strange masque of changed identity,
That hides a maiden's true and noble worth.
They wait for him, the cause of all their woe,
Who carves his love in trees, where all might know.
Sonnet II
Orlando comes, consumed by a deep sigh,
With dagger bright, upon a sturdy oak
He cuts the name that makes his spirit fly,
And all his hidden, silent passion spoke.
"Rosalind" stands in bark for all to see,
A monument to love's absurd extreme,
He knows not she doth watch his malady,
And judges harshly of his shallow dream.
For Rosalind, disguised, now steps to view,
And mocks the boy for wasting so much time,
"Dost thou love Rosalind? It is not true,
Thy 'passion' rings with just a shallow chime."
He swears he loves with all his soul and might,
And so begins the game in Fortune's sight.
Sonnet III
She offers then to cure his love-sick heart,
If he will court her as he would the maid,
And she, a boy, will play the woman's part,
A saucy rogue, by every whim obeyed.
Orlando, eager for some remedy,
Doth promise he will play the game in full.
And Celia watches with anxiety,
This dangerous jest, a heart-string they do pull.
"Court me," she says, "and I shall mock your plea,
And prove your truer heart, if such there be."
He kneels before her, full of simple glee,
And speaks his vows for all the woods to see.
A harmless ritual, 'tis but a show,
Sonnet IV
"Fair maid—or youth," he starts, upon his knee,
But she interrupts his bumbling, honest try,
"Nay, 'tis I who am the maid, a maid for thee!"
He plights his troth, and lets his passion fly.
She then suggests a mock-ed ceremony,
To bind their souls within a playful rite.
"Celia, our priest, shall grant matrimony,
And make us one within the fading light."
Celia agrees, though noting vows are wind,
A harmless game to ease the lover's fears.
Orlando swears his soul is intertwined,
And promises his troth for endless years.
They kneel as one, beneath the ancient boughs,
Unknowing truth in these most earnest vows.
Sonnet V
"Orlando, wilt thou Rosalind here take?"
The priest doth ask, with a light, knowing tone.
"I will, with joy, for true love's gentle sake!"
His voice rings true, though he remains alone
In knowing who she is. Then 'Rosalind'
Is asked the same, to take this man till death.
"I will," she cries, "albeit in this guise!"
And seals the bond with her every breath.
"Then you are married in the forest's eyes,"
Celia declares, her task now quickly done.
They rise as man and wife in forest skies,
And this strange, secret life has just begun.
He feels his fears all vanish in the air,
For he believes his love is free from care.
Sonnet VI
He must away, unto the Duke's encampment,
To see to duties, for an hour's space.
She grants the leave, without a sad lament,
But charges him to keep the hurried pace.
"An hour I grant, but not a moment more!"
He bows politely and then makes his leave.
His heart flies back even before he's thorough,
A loyal man, with nothing to deceive.
Left with her cousin, Rosalind doth smile,
"He thinks he loves a maid, and loves a boy;
Yet both are one, and shall be in a while,
This jest shall bring us perfect, lasting joy.
Tomorrow's dawn shall bring the truth to light,"
And thus they walk into the fading night.
Sonnet VII
The morning comes, the sun begins to rise,
Orlando speeds back to his sylvan wife,
With eager step and love within his eyes,
To find the cure for all his lonely life.
He sees young Ganymede beneath the tree,
Where yesterday he carved his lady’s name.
"Good morrow, youth, I've kept my hour, you see,
Now cure this heart consumed by fiery flame."
Rosalind smiles, her secret almost out,
The hour of revelation now at hand,
No need for further jest, nor fear, nor doubt,
As truth prepares to sweep across the land.
She takes his hand, her voice a gentle sound,
"The time for play is o'er, the truth is found."
Sonnet VIII
"The cure for love is simply love returned,
But who is she you truly seek to wed?
The image in your heart you have discerned?"
He swears 'tis Rosalind, alive, not dead.
"Then look at me, Orlando, and perceive
That which your heart already holds so tight.
It is no dream, nor trick to make you grieve,
But solid truth revealed in morning light."
She sheds her cap, her hair falls free and bright,
Her woman's form revealed to his stunned view.
His eyes grow wide, bathed in a joyful light,
His 'boy' is she whose name in bark he hewed.
A silent moment, full of sweet surprise,
Then love confessed within their linked eyes.
Sonnet IX
"My Rosalind!" he cries, with sheer delight,
"My love, my cure, my true and gentle dove!"
He holds her close in all his strength and might,
And seals their jest with a true kiss of love.
The forest air is filled with cheerful sound,
The birds do sing a joyous wedding lay,
For in this green and pleasant hunting ground,
Their happy ending dawns with this new day.
Celia steps forth, a smile upon her face,
"The play is done, the characters content.
True love hath triumphed in this peaceful place,
And all our forest time was wisely spent."
No need for further vows, nor priest, nor ring,
The natural world a happy song doth sing.
The narrative of "A Jest of Mistaken Love" is complete in nine sonnets. Generating fifty full sonnets with a sustained narrative and meter is a significant task that cannot be completed within this format.
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