Act III, is the "Climax of the Flesh."Scene: The market, now in a trance.
Action: Elésìn is at the peak of his ritual. He is "dying" spiritually.Climax: Amusa and the police arrive. The Market Women mock Amusa’s "white man’s uniform" in a brilliant 5-page dialogue. They treat him like a eunuch who has lost his heritage.
Ending: The arrest of Elésìn. The silence that follows the arrest is described by Soyinka as "the death of the world's heartbeat."The blogger write the 5-page dialogue of the Market Women mocking Amusa for Act III
One thing that really stuck out towards the end of the play was the change in how Iyaloja spoke to and interacted with Elesin.Caught between two worlds.
IYÁLÒDÉ: The voice of the earth.THE MARKET WOMEN: A chorus of mockery and ancient strength.ELÉSÌN-AWÓ: In a state of metaphysical suspension.
SETTING:The market square. The air is no longer air; it is a thick, invisible soup of incense, sweat, and the vibrating echoes of the "Gbedu" drum. ELÉSÌN-AWÓ is center stage, his eyes rolled back, his body swaying like a leaf on a dying branch.(SERGEANT AMUSA enters with four CONSTABLES. They carry batons and handcuffs. The light is a haunting, deep indigo. As they approach the inner circle, the women form a human wall, arms linked.)
AMUSA: (Shouting over the drums, though his voice lacks conviction)In the name of the Law! Clear the way! I have orders from the District Commissioner!
FIRST WOMAN: (Laughing, a sharp, piercing sound)The Law? Listen to the cockerel in the stolen feathers! He speaks of the "Law" while his own ancestors turn their backs in the grove.IYÁLÒDÉ: (Stepping forward, her presence towering)Amusa, the son of a man who once carried the King’s stool. Today, you carry a stick of wood and a heart of lead. Tell me, when you go home and take off that heavy coat of yours, do you find your skin has turned white, or is it still the color of the earth you betray?
AMUSA:Iyálòdé, do not make this a matter of the soul. It is a matter of the Governor’s peace. The man behind you is trying to throw his life into the dirt. I am here to save him.
SECOND WOMAN:Save him? You are like a man who tries to "save" a fish from the water by pulling it into the sand! Look at Elésìn. Does he look like a man who needs a policeman’s hand? He is already halfway across the river.
AMUSA: (To his constables)Move them aside! Use the batons if you must!(The women do not move. Instead, they begin a rhythmic, mocking dance, mimicking the stiff, mechanical movements of British soldiers. They salute each other with grotesque exaggerations.)
FIRST WOMAN: (In a high-pitched, mock-British accent)"Oh, Sergeant Amusa! Is my tie straight? Do I smell enough of the White Man’s gin? I must be sure to arrest the sun so it doesn't set without a permit!"
THE WOMEN: (In chorus)The eunuch is guarding the harem! The man with the empty sack is complaining that the harvest is too heavy!
AMUSA: (Flustered, sweating)Silence! You women... you do not understand the danger. If this man dies, the Commissioner says the whole city will be punished. The soldiers will come. The market will be burned.
IYÁLÒDÉ:The market is already burning, Amusa. It burns with the shame of a son who treats his father like a criminal. You see Elésìn? He is the Weaver. He is sewing the shroud of the old year so the new year can be born. If you stop the needle, you leave us all naked in the cold of eternity.
AMUSA: (Pushing through, desperate)I have no time for proverbs! Elésìn-Awó! By the authority of the Crown, I place you under arrest for attempted... attempted...
ELÉSÌN-AWÓ: (His voice comes as if from a deep well, slow and gravelly)Attempted... what, little bird? Attempted to be a man? Attempted to keep an oath that was written before your "Crown" was even a pebble in the sea?(Elésìn tries to raise his ceremonial knife, but his limbs are heavy, burdened by the transition. AMUSA’s men pounce on him. There is a violent, chaotic struggle. The drums stop abruptly with a sickening "thud," like a heart stopping mid-beat.)
IYÁLÒDÉ: (A scream that tears the night)The thread is snapped! The shuttle has fallen into the dung!
ELÉSÌN-AWÓ: (As he is handcuffed, his face a mask of agony)No... not yet... the King... he is calling... I can see his horse... but the path... the path is growing over with weeds...
AMUSA: (Breathing hard, trembling)Take him to the Residency. Lock him in the stone cellar. And tell the Commissioner... tell him the "Weaver" is caught, but the world... the world feels very cold.(The soldiers drag ELÉSÌN away. The women fall to the ground, wailing. The light shifts from indigo to a harsh, artificial yellow as the colonial presence fully takes over the stage.
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