The Merchants Of Iwo

The bard also the blogger authors another play.

5. The Merchants of Ìwo

Genre: Comedy/Problem Play (inspired by The Merchant of Venice and Ifá concepts of contracts and Ori).

Central Theme: The nature of justice versus mercy, and the importance of adhering to one's destiny (Ori) and avoiding impossible promises.

Ifá Focus: The Odu Ìrosùn Ofun, which warns against making promises one cannot keep and emphasizes that one's Ori (personal destiny/head) is their strongest support.

Synopsis: Adékúnlé, a respected merchant of Ìwo, is in love with the witty and wise Àdùkẹ́, the daughter of a wealthy trader. He seeks a loan to prove his worth. He approaches the unforgiving moneylender, Alábá, a rival merchant known for his cunning and strict adherence to contracts. Adékúnlé, guided by a rash desire, and against the subtle warnings of Ifá, agrees to a bond pledging a weight of his own flesh if the debt is not repaid on time. When Adékúnlé's fortunes turn and he cannot pay, Alábá demands his due in a trial before the King. Àdùkẹ́, disguised as a knowledgeable Babaláwo, cleverly interprets the terms of the bond based on Ifá principles to save Adékúnlé.

ACT I

SCENE I. The market of Ìwo. Bustle and commerce.

Enter ADÉKÚNLÉ, a young but promising merchant, and his friends GBÉMÍ and KÚNBÍ.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

Good friends, my spirits are as light as air!

The morning sun smiles brighter on the town.

For I have seen the lady, Àdùkẹ́.

GBÉMÍ:

Again? Does your heart flutter for this maiden?

Her father, Chief Ògúnmọ́lá, is wealthy,

And his demands are mighty as his purse.

You seek to court a star, my friend.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

Her father's wealth is but a simple gleam

Reflecting her own inner, brighter light.

Her wit is sharper than a trader's tongue,

Her heart as generous as the fertile earth.

I'd risk my fortune and my very soul

To win a glance from her most clever eye!

KÚNBÍ:

A generous soul indeed! For rumour says

She is to choose a husband by a contest,

A test of wisdom, not of riches mere.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

A contest? That is news! I did not know!

This gives me hope! For wealth I have but little,

My ventures all are bound on distant shores.

But wit and courage, those I have in plenty.

GBÉMÍ:

And little else, my friend! You have been over-generous.

Your coffers groan with empty space, not coin.

You need some funds to prove your worldly worth,

For even wise men judge by outward show.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

Aye, that is true. A loan, and with some haste.

My goods are due, my ships are on the sea.

But who will lend me such a heavy sum?

KÚNBÍ:

There is but one. The moneylender, Alábá.

A man whose contracts are as strict as law,

Whose tongue is sharp and holds a bitter grudge

Against the generous and the free of spirit.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

Alábá? The man whose soul is bound by gold?

I do not like the thought. He is a serpent.

GBÉMÍ:

A serpent, yes, but one that holds a purse.

Your Ori, your destiny, will guide your hand,

But gold and silver make the journey swift.

Go speak with him, and make your case with tact.

Your honor's worth is greater than his terms.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

You speak with cunning, Gbémí. Very well.

For Àdùkẹ́, I'll deal with even fiends.

I go to find this human ledger-book.

(Exeunt ADÉKÚNLÉ, GBÉMÍ, and KÚNBÍ.)

(Curtain falls.)

ACT I (Continued)

SCENE II. Alábá’s office. A sparse room with ledgers and a strongbox.

Enter ALÁBÁ, the moneylender, counting coins. Enter ADÉKÚNLÉ.

ALÁBÁ:

Adékúnlé? The prodigal himself!

What brings the generous merchant here?

Have all ships returned with heavy gold,

That you now grace this counting-house?

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

Good Alábá, your words mock my state.

My ships are at sea, their wealth expected.

I come to seek a timely loan,

Three thousand ducats, for three months.

ALÁBÁ:

Three thousand ducats! For three months! A sum!

Your reputation is one of risk.

You lend your purse to any sailor,

And swear you trust in Ifá more than bonds.

But here, we deal in sureties, coin for coin.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

My name is good, my word my bond.

My assets are worth thrice the sum.

My ships, when they arrive...

ALÁBÁ:

(Interrupting with a sour face)

Your ships may sink, the sea may swallow them,

The winds may tear the canvas!

You speak of risks! I speak of certainty!

How can I trust a man who mocks my trade?

You curse my interest rates, you shame my life,

You say a moneylender has no soul.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

I do not come to argue philosophy,

But seek help to win my lady’s hand.

I need the means to show I am no beggar.

ALÁBÁ:

To win a hand? A lover’s desperate plea!

This makes the risk yet greater.

But for love, my heart

Can soften a little. I will lend

The sum, without interest.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

(Surprised and relieved)

Without interest? You are more generous

Than thought, good Alábá!

ALÁBÁ:

(A cold smile on his lips)

Upon one bond. For security,

If you fail to pay on the day,

In any court of law,

The bond shall yield a pound of your flesh,

To be cut from your body,

Where I so please. This is my bond.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

A pound of flesh? A jest!

ALÁBÁ:

A merry bond, I say again!

If you fail, then I collect.

My mind is set, Adékúnlé. Take it or leave it.

The Odu Ìrosùn Ofun warns against

Promises not kept. Heed the Odu.

If your ships land,

Then this bond means nothing but a word.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

(His pride stung, his mind set on Àdùkẹ́)

I sign the bond! My ships are safe!

The risk is none, and I will have gold!

(ADÉKÚNLÉ signs a scroll ALÁBÁ offers. ALÁBÁ counts out the coins.)

ALÁBÁ:

The gold is yours. The bond is mine. Three months.

Remember Ori, and fortune’s wheel.

(Exit ALÁBÁ, smiling malevolently. ADÉKÚNLÉ counts his coin, a shadow of doubt crossing his face.)

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

A pound of flesh! The old man has a sense

Of humour after all! My ships are safe.

Now, to my love, and to the contest swift!

(Exit ADÉKÚNLÉ, joyful but perhaps naive.)

SCENE III. A hall in Chief Ògúnmọ́lá’s house.

Enter ÀDÙKẸ́ and her attendant YẸMÍ.

SCENE III. A hall in Chief Ògúnmọ́lá’s house.

Enter ÀDÙKẸ́ and her attendant YẸMÍ.

YẸMÍ:

Your father’s will is strange, my lady. Three chests:

One gold, one silver, and one wood.

The man who chooses right will win your hand.

A game of chance, not fair.

ÀDÙKẸ́:

It is a test of wisdom, Yẹmí, not of chance.

My father trusts in Ifá and the spirits.

The words upon the chests are clear,

For he who seeks true worth will find the prize,

He who seeks gold or silver finds doom.

I pray Adékúnlé comes to try his luck.

He has a gentle heart and clever mind.

(Enter CHIEF ÒGÚNMỌ́LÁ and ADÉKÚNLÉ.)

ÒGÚNMỌ́LÁ:

Welcome, young man! You come to the test?

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

I do, my Chief. My heart is yours to claim.

ÒGÚNMỌ́LÁ:

Behold the chests! Read the inscriptions.

(He points to the chests: Gold, Silver, and Wood.)

The gold chest says: “Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.”

The silver chest: “Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.”

The wooden chest: “Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.”

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

(Studying the chests, Àdùkẹ́ watching)

The gold, for all men desire, is but a fleeting fancy.

The silver, what I deserve, is prideful.

The wood, that which I hazard all I have? A test of devotion.

(He looks at Àdùkẹ́, who nods slightly)

I choose the simple wood, a humble choice.

(He opens the wooden chest. Inside is Àdùkẹ́'s portrait and a scroll.)

ÒGÚNMỌ́LÁ:

He has chosen well! The test is passed!

ÀDÙKẸ́:

My love, you have my hand, my heart, my soul!

I am yours!

(They embrace as the curtain falls on a scene of joy and future promise, with the shadow of the bond in the background.)

ACT II

SCENE I. The market in Ìwo. Several months later.

Enter ALÁBÁ, looking grim, and KÚNBÍ, a friend of Adékúnlé.

ALÁBÁ:

My mind is on the sea, and ships, and ruin!

News has reached the town: great storms have raged,

And merchants whisper that Adékúnlé’s fleet,

His richest venture, all are lost at sea!

His time is near; the bond is almost due.

KÚNBÍ:

Lost? All lost? Say it is not so!

The man is good, his heart is pure. Be merciful!

Take twice the sum, but spare the bond’s grim clause.

ALÁBÁ:

(Grinning with malice)

He called me dog! He spat upon my trade!

He mocked my ways before the common folk!

Now, I will have my bond! He trusted fate.

The Odu Ìrosùn Ofun was clear: keep your promises.

His promise now is flesh, not coin. I will have justice!

KÚNBÍ:

This is not justice, it is vengeance, pure and simple!

ALÁBÁ:

Vengeance? I call it law. An oath is sworn!

The King himself must honour a signed bond.

Let the young fool learn that words have weight!

The time is nigh! I must prepare my claim!

(Exit ALÁBÁ, laughing. KÚNBÍ watches him go with horror.)

KÚNBÍ:

The gods protect Adékúnlé! This man

Hath malice in his soul.

(Exit KÚNBÍ.)

SCENE II. Chief Ògúnmọ́lá’s hall.

Enter ADÉKÚNLÉ, desperate, and ÀDÙKẸ́.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

My love, all is undone! The ships are sunk!

My fortune lost, the bond now falls due,

And Alábá demands his pound of flesh!

I am a dead man, ere I am your husband.

ÀDÙKẸ́:

(Calm, though distressed)

Do not despair, my husband soon-to-be.

We have gold, my father has great wealth.

We will pay the man ten times the sum.

The law cannot allow such savagery!

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

He will not take the gold. He wants my life.

The bond is clear, the words are etched in law.

He seeks revenge for all my former scorn.

(Enter GBÉMÍ, out of breath.)

GBÉMÍ:

The King has been inform’d! The trial is set!

Alábá is a man possessed by hate.

You must prepare to plead your case with speed!

ÀDÙKẸ́:

I must depart to learn the law’s true word.

I have a kinsman, wise in the ways of Ifá and all legal codes.

I will consult him, and find a solution.

(To Adékúnlé)

Be strong, my love. Your Ori is pure. Your destiny is strong.

Justice and mercy often wear two faces,

But truth will find the light.

(Exit ÀDÙKẸ́ and YẸMÍ quickly. ADÉKÚNLÉ and GBÉMÍ look at each other with fear and fading hope.)

ACT III

SCENE I. The Courtroom. The KING sits enthroned. LORDS and CITIZENS watch.

Enter ALÁBÁ, ADÉKÚNLÉ, GBÉMÍ, and KÚNBÍ. The court is tense.

KING:

Alábá, you come before the crown with a grim suit.

This man, Adékúnlé, doth owe you coin,

But you demand a pound of human flesh.

The city cries for mercy. Take the gold!

We offer twice the sum to spare his life!

ALÁBÁ:

My King, the law is written, signed, and sealed!

I ask for justice, as the law provides.

If you deny me this, then all the laws

Of Ìwo lose their weight and meaning here!

Every contract, every oath, is worth naught!

I demand the penalty!

KING:

This is a cruel heart that you possess.

Is there no mercy in your stubborn soul?

ALÁBÁ:

I have an oath in heaven. Can I break that?

Give me my pound of flesh, and let the law stand firm!

(Enter ÀDÙKẸ́, disguised as a wise, young Babaláwo, followed by Yẹmí, disguised as her clerk.)

KING:

Who is this youth who interrupts the court?

ÀDÙKẸ́:

A humble servant of the law and Ifá wisdom, here to aid.

My kinsman, the renowned legal scholar, is ill,

And sends me in his stead. My name is Ifá-Sage.

KING:

You are young, but the need is great. Proceed.

ÀDÙKẸ́:

(Bowing to the King, then facing Alábá)

Is this the bond?

ALÁBÁ:

It is, most wise young judge.

ÀDÙKẸ́:

Alábá, a pound of flesh is yours. The court awards it.

The law allows it, and the court awards it.

ALÁBÁ:

(Gleeful)

O noble judge! O excellent young man!

ÀDÙKẸ́:

But mark me well, this bond doth give you leave

To have exactly a pound of flesh.

The words are clear, they speak of flesh alone.

They do not speak of blood.

When you do cut the pound of flesh, you shall shed

No drop of Christian blood, nor cut more, nor less,

Than just a pound.

If you shed blood, or cut a fraction wrong,

The laws of Ìwo seize all your goods,

And your life is forfeit to the state.

The Odu Ìrosùn Ofun demands integrity in promises.

You ask for law, so you shall have strict law.

ALÁBÁ:

(Stunned, his face draining of colour)

O upright judge! Mark how I am caught!

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

(To Alábá)

Take the gold now, villain, and be gone!

ÀDÙKẸ́:

Nay, the man refused it in the open court!

He sought the law, and the law has judged his suit.

He must cut the flesh, without the blood, or forfeit all.

There is no middle path.

ALÁBÁ:

(Defeated and trembling)

Give me my principal, and let me go.

ÀDÙKẸ́:

He has refused it in the court. Now, he must face

The strict demands of his own wicked bond.

Prepare to cut the flesh, good Alábá.

KING:

The sentence stands. The young sage speaks true law.

ALÁBÁ:

I am undone! I take my leave in shame!

A curse upon your laws and ancient tales!

(ALÁBÁ rushes from the court, defeated. The crowd cheers.)

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

My life is saved! My love, my noble friend!

How can I thank you?

ÀDÙKẸ́:

(Smiling coyly, dropping her disguise slightly)

By keeping your promises more wisely next time,

And loving me forever. We must celebrate this glorious end!

(The KING, LORDS, ADÉKÚNLÉ, and others exit in joy and celebration. Curtain falls.)

KÚNBÍ:

You seem distracted, Alábá. What news?

continue

Here is the conclusion of The Merchants of Ìwo (Act IV and V) and the beginning of the next play, The Life and Death of Prince Òyèkú (Act I, Scene I).

The Merchants of Ìwo

ACT IV

SCENE I. A room in Ògúnmọ́lá’s house.

Enter ÀDÙKẸ́ and YẸMÍ, back in their own clothes, joyful.

ÀDÙKẸ́:

The villain is defeated by his own strict words!

The law, when used with wisdom's eye, can turn

A serpent’s poison to a simple cure.

YẸMÍ:

You were magnificent! Your words like light

Did pierce the darkness of his greedy soul.

And now you have your merchant, safe and sound.

(Enter ADÉKÚNLÉ, GBÉMÍ, and KÚNBÍ.)

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

My saviour, my wise judge, my lady love!

How can I ever repay this debt of life?

It was you, in clever disguise, who saved me!

ÀDÙKẸ́:

The debt is paid in love and honest faith.

Remember this, my husband: that mercy

Is mightier than the sternest law of men.

And never make a promise that demands

The very essence of your human worth.

Your Ori is pure, keep it so forever.

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

I have learned my lesson well. My life is yours,

To be lived with wisdom and with care.

GBÉMÍ:

And good news comes on the heels of better!

A messenger just rode into the town:

Three of your ships, thought lost, have made safe port!

Their cargo’s worth is double what was owed!

Your fortune is restored, and greatly more!

ADÉKÚNLÉ:

(Aghast with joy)

The gods are good! My fortune is restored!

The Odu Ìrosùn Ofun speaks of balance.

When pride led to folly, mercy saved me.

Now fortune smiles again.

ÒGÚNMỌ́LÁ:

(Entering, smiling)

A wedding feast at once! The town shall sing!

My daughter, you have proven wise and just.

(All exit in celebration as the curtain falls on a glorious, comedic ending.)

The Life And Death Of Prince Oyeku

4. The Life and Death of Prince Òyèkú

ACT I

SCENE I. The castle ramparts at night. Cold and wind.

Enter MARCELLUS and BERNARDO, guards.

BERNARDO:

Who's there?

MARCELLUS:

Nay, answer me. Stand, and unfold yourself.

BERNARDO:

Long live the King!

MARCELLUS:

Bernardo?

BERNARDO:

He.

MARCELLUS:

You have not seen the apparition once again?

BERNARDO:

I have not. But the night is cold and eerie.

Twice hath the fearful vision cross'd our watch,

A figure cloaked in armour of the King

That died but a month since.

MARCELLUS:

It chills my blood to speak of it, Bernardo.

Hush, speak no more. See where young Prince Òyèkú

Doth wander, lost in scholarly despair.

He fasts, he prays, he questions all that is.

His father's death hath made a hollow man

Of our sweet prince.

(Enter PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ, wrapped in dark robes, contemplative.)

BERNARDO:

Goodnight, Marcellus. We shall keep the watch.

(Exeunt MARCELLUS and BERNARDO, leaving the PRINCE alone.)

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

(To himself)

To be, or not to be: that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;

No more; and by a sleep to say we end

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;

To sleep: perchance to dream: aye, there's the rub;

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause. The Odu Òyèkú speaks

Of death and ancestors, of worlds unseen.

A sign from Ifá I must have, to know

Which path is true: the path of quiet death,

Or the harsh life that demands a bloody hand.

(The GHOST OF THE DEAD KING appears silently in the mist.)

GHOST:

(A deep, echoing voice)

Hear me, my son.

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

(Turning in shock and fear)

What spirit’s form is this? My father's face!

GHOST:

I am thy father's spirit;

Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,

And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,

Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature

Are burnt and purged away. If thou didst ever thy dear father love...

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

O God!

GHOST:

Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder.

Thy uncle, who now sits upon the throne,

Did pour the poison in my sleeping ear.

A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Òwu

Is by a forged process of my death

Rankly abus'd: but know, thou noble youth,

The serpent that did sting thy father's life

Now wears his crown.

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

O my prophetic soul! My uncle!

GHOST:

The Odu speaks the truth. Remember me.

(The GHOST fades back into the mist. PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ stands alone, a man burdened by an unwanted fate.)

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

The Odu speaks the truth. Remember me.

(The GHOST fades back into the mist. PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ stands alone, a man burdened by an unwanted fate.)

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,

That ever I was born to set it right!

I must consult the oracle, not this shade,

For truth must wear the light of day.

(Curtain falls.)

ACT I (Continued)

SCENE II. A room in the castle.

Enter the new King KLÁRÌBÀS and his Queen GÈTRÚDE, with advisors.

KLÁRÌBÀS:

Though the memory of our dear brother’s death is recent,

and it is fitting to bear hearts in grief,

yet, discretion has been shown to us,

that with a joy unmatch'd, our sister, Gètrúde,

has been taken to our bed and royal throne.

Now to the business of the state.

(Enter EMERE, the kind healer from the earlier play, now serving the court.)

EMERE:

My lord, the Babaláwo Agbà awaits.

He comes, as ordered, to divine the future

and seek the ancestors' assent to your new reign.

KLÁRÌBÀS:

Let him enter; due reverence must be shown

to ancient custom and the spirits' will.

(Enter BABÁ AGBA, the Chief Priest, bearing his divining tools. The court makes way for him.)

BABÁ AGBA:

Great King, the spirits of the ancestors

demand a clean heart and a righteous rule.

The Opele chain is cast, to seek the truth.

(He casts the chain onto a mat.)

The sign that falls... is Òyèkú Mèjì.

(A hush falls over the court. Òyèkú Mèjì is a grave, potent Odu associated with profound death and ancestral reckoning.)

GÈTRÚDE:

(Whispering to Kláribàs, shaken)

Òyèkú Mèjì! A sign of deepest death!

KLÁRÌBÀS:

(His face pale, but voice firm)

Interpret this, good priest. What does it mean?

Is this a blessing or a dire warning?

BABÁ AGBA:

It is a warning that what seems as life,

is touched by death. A great wrong was committed.

The ancestors cry out from the other side,

demanding truth and balance be restored.

The palace grounds are stained with hidden sin.

If this is not addressed with speed and truth,

the kingdom itself shall fall into the shade.

KLÁRÌBÀS:

(To himself, shifting nervously)

Stained ground? Hidden sin?

(To the Priest)

We thank you for the warning, holy man.

The conscience and the law will be consulted.

The court is dismissed.

(The court exits, leaving Kláribàs alone with his thoughts.)

KLÁRÌBÀS:

The priest speaks true, but not of ghosts or shades,

but of my secret sin, the murder done!

My brother's blood doth cry out from the earth!

This Òyèkú sign doth chill my very bones.

But I have the crown, the power, and the sword.

The oracle will be outfaced and reign,

though hell itself doth send its demons forth.

My conscience is for weaker men.

(Exit KLÁRÌBÀS, resolute in his evil intent.)

SCENE III. The ramparts again. Night.

Enter PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ, MARCELLUS, and HORATIO.

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

He comes again, that ghost, that mournful shade.

Horatio, my trusted friend, the priest

confirmed the Odu Òyèkú for the realm.

There is a sin, a murder most foul.

My uncle’s hand, the crown that doth not fit,

The vision, the oracle... all speak as one!

HORATIO:

My lord, be cautious. Madness lurks in grief.

The spirits speak in riddles. Trust no shade.

Your Ori, your own spirit, must be clear

before the blade of vengeance swift is wielded.

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

Clear? The mind is clear as glass!

But a madness must be feigned, to observe

My uncle's guilt, to make his conscience crack.

An antic disposition shall be put on!

A fool shall play the sage, a madman speak the truth.

MARCELLUS:

This path is dangerous, my noble prince.

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

The time is out of joint, it was said before.

Now madness will be used as a shield,

and the uncle will be watched closely. There is a plan.

(He whispers his plan to Horatio and Marcellus.)

HORATIO:

A risky game, my prince. Be ever mindful.

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

Fear not. A part is played, and the stage is set.

The tragic tale begins with a fool's guise.

(Exeunt, Prince Òyèkú laughing a wild, feigned laugh.)

ACT II

SCENE I. A Hall in the Castle.

Enter King KLÁRÌBÀS and Queen GÈTRÚDE with advisors ROSENKRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.

KLÁRÌBÀS:

Welcome, good friends. The cause of our son's madness

We have sent for you to know, and for no other reason

But to glean, whether aught, to us unknown,

Hath put him so much from his former state.

ROSENKRANTZ:

My lord, we have not found the head and cause.

He speaks in riddles, and his mind doth wander

From sense to nonsense with a frightening speed.

GUILDENSTERN:

He spoke of players arriving at the court,

A travelling troupe, that he desires to see

Perform a play tonight before the court.

KLÁRÌBÀS:

'Tis well. A play to ease his troubled mind.

We will attend. See that they are well hosted.

(Exeunt ROSENKRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN.)

KLÁRÌBÀS:

(To himself)

This feigned madness has a purpose, it is suspected.

A play may show his hand, or bare his soul.

The Odu Òyèkú hovers like a cloud.

POLONIUS:

My lord, the cause of Òyèkú’s lunacy has been found.

It is the very passion of his love for my Ophelia.

See here, his letters, filled with words of love.

KLÁRÌBÀS:

A love rejected turns the brain to woe.

Ophelia, go you to him now. We'll watch

And see the truth of this sad affliction.

(The KING and POLONIUS hide behind a large tapestry. Enter PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ, reading a book.)

OPHELIA:

My honour'd lord, I pray you, how do you?

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

Well, well, well.

OPHELIA:

My lord, I have remembrances of yours,

That I have longed to redeliver.

(She offers a small box of gifts.)

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

I never gave you aught. I loved you not.

OPHELIA:

(Heartbroken)

Indeed, my honour'd lord, you know right well you did.

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

Get thee to a nunnery, Ophelia! Why wouldst thou be a breeder of sinners?

Farewell. Or if thou wilt needs marry, marry a fool.

(He exits with wild eyes.)

KLÁRÌBÀS:

(Emerging with Polonius)

Love? This is not the melancholy of rejected love.

There is some mystery here. He plans some purpose.

He will be sent to England, on an embassy,

To seek some tribute that is due our crown.

Far from our court, his madness shall find peace,

Or find a quiet end.

POLONIUS:

'Tis a wise plan, my King.

(Exeunt.)

SCENE II. The Great Hall of the Castle. A stage is set for a play.

Enter OYÈKÚ and HORATIO.

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

Horatio, when the play is on, observe my uncle's face.

A scene has been inserted in the play

That mirrors my father's most unnatural murder.

If his blood doth not rush to his face,

And his heart doth not confess the sin,

Then the ghost was false, and the Odu lied.

Watch him closely.

HORATIO:

My eyes shall be as sharp as knives.

(The court enters. KING KLÁRÌBÀS, QUEEN GÈTRÚDE, and advisors take their seats. The Players come forward. The play is titled "The Mouse-Trap".)

PLAYER KING:

Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round

Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands

Unite commutual in most sacred bands.

PLAYER QUEEN:

So many journeys may the sun and moon

Make out of this, to make it thirty years,

Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring

Their fiery periods to their envious race.

(A player enters, pouring a vial of "poison" into the sleeping King's ear. The character on stage mimics the death Kláribàs inflicted.)

KLÁRÌBÀS:

(Leaping from his throne, pale and trembling)

Give me some light! Away! Away!

The play's the thing wherein I caught my conscience!

(The court descends into chaos. KLÁRÌBÀS rushes out, followed by the Queen and advisors. The room empties save for ÒYÈKÚ and HORATIO.)

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

(Triumphant and horrified)

O, my Horatio! Did you perceive?

The villain did confess the sin with his own eyes!

The ghost was honest! The Odu Òyèkú speaks true!

Now there is cause to take my righteous vengeance!

HORATIO:

The proof is clear. But caution still, my friend.

PRINCE ÒYÈKÚ:

Now the chamber of my mother must be visited.

The time for action is upon me now.

To kill the King!

Oh but behold the king former prince lives on forever 

(Exeunt.)

A Repertoire Of New Plays

We setting pace with the Shakespearean tradition in a new way.

There is no established literary tradition of writing long plays on the Ifá oracle in a Shakespearean style. While the rich oral tradition of the Ifá corpus has inspired modern playwrights like Ola Rotimi, who used Ifá divination in his play The Gods Are Not to Blame (an adaptation of Oedipus Rex), these works are not typically written in Shakespearean English or dramatic structure.

Here is a list of potential plays that blend the thematic depth of Ifá with the linguistic style (blank verse, archaic diction) and structural elements (five-act structure, soliloquies) of the Shakespearean tradition:

Twenty Ifá Oracle Plays in the Shakespearean Tradition

Tragedies

Focusing on human frailty, destiny, and the consequences of ignoring divine counsel.

The Tragedy of King Ogbè’s Folly

Synopsis: A proud king, given a dire warning by the Babaláwo (priest) through the Ogbè Odu (sign) about a hidden betrayal within his court, dismisses the prophecy as mere superstition. His willful ignorance allows a jealous half-brother to usurp the throne, leading to war, the king's tragic downfall, and the kingdom's ruin. The play explores the theme of predestination versus free will.

The Moor of Òwu: An Ìrosùn Tale

Synopsis: A valiant general of a city-state, a man of noble standing, is swayed by the insidious whispers of his ensign. The ensign manipulates an ambiguous Ifá divination (Ìrosùn) to convince the general that his loyal wife is unfaithful, leading to a jealous rage, murder, and the general's eventual, devastating realization of his folly and suicide.

Òfún-Mèjì; or, The Sovereign's Shadow

Synopsis: A righteous ruler struggles with the moral weight of leadership after the Òfún-Mèjì sign portends a great pestilence unless a specific, seemingly unjust, sacrifice is made. The ruler's internal conflict and ultimate choice—sparing an innocent individual and thereby condemning the kingdom—mirror the profound ethical dilemmas found in Hamlet or King Lear.

The Life and Death of Prince Òyèkú

Synopsis: A young prince, burdened by the ghost of his father and the pronouncements of the Òyèkú Odu regarding a usurpation, delays his revenge. His overthinking and philosophical musings lead to a series of mistaken identities, madness, and a climactic duel that leaves the stage littered with the bodies of the noble and the damned.

The Merchant of Ìwo

Synopsis: A wealthy merchant, needing funds for a friend, makes a pact with a conniving moneylender. The bond's condition is an ounce of the merchant's flesh if repayment fails, a fate foreseen by the oracle but ignored. The play culminates in a tense trial scene where a wise female judge, citing Ifá philosophy, saves the merchant through clever interpretation of the bond's exact words.

The Tempest of Ògúndá

Synopsis: A banished duke, using the esoteric knowledge granted by the Ògúndá sign, controls the elements and spirits on a mystical island. He orchestrates a tempest to shipwreck his usurping brother and their retinue, ultimately leading to a confrontation, forgiveness, and the duke's choice to abandon his magical powers and return to his rightful place.

Macbètì: The Curse of the Three Witches

Synopsis: A brave general encounters three priestesses (witches) who prophesy his rise to kingship. Driven by ambition and his wife's urging, he commits regicide. The Ifá oracle condemns his actions, and his reign is one of paranoia, bloodshed, and ultimate defeat, illustrating the corrupting nature of unchecked ambition.

Comedies & Romances

Featuring mistaken identity, clever servants, journeys, and divine intervention leading to harmonious resolution.

A Midsummer Night’s Divination

Synopsis: Two pairs of lovers, in an enchanted forest on the eve of a major festival, have their romantic entanglements and mistaken affections manipulated by forest spirits and the trickster Orisha Eshu, all under the guiding hand of the Ifá wisdom that eventually restores order and leads to multiple marriages.

Twelfth Night; or, What the Oracle Wills

Synopsis: A woman, shipwrecked and believing her brother dead, disguises herself as a man to serve a local duke. A series of comedic mix-ups involving love triangles and a pompous steward ensues, all resolved when the oracle is consulted at the play's climax, revealing identities and leading to harmonious pairings.

As You Like It in the Forest of Ìpetè

Synopsis: Banished characters find refuge in the idyllic Forest of Ìpetè. The oracle's wisdom is found not in a temple but in nature and the simple life. The play involves cross-dressing, pastoral poetry, and a divinely guided reunion of families and lovers.

The Taming of the Shrewd Bàbá

Synopsis: A wealthy man with two daughters struggles to marry off the elder, who is known for her fiery temper and disrespect for tradition. A bold suitor, guided by the Òsé Odu (which speaks of bringing sweetness to a bitter situation), attempts to "tame" her, resulting in a witty battle of the sexes and a surprising mutual respect.

The Comedy of Errors at Ile-Ifè

Synopsis: Two sets of identical twins, separated in infancy, unknowingly converge on the sacred city of Ile-Ifè. A series of comical misunderstandings, false accusations, and beatings leads to chaos until the chief Babaláwo consults the oracle, revealing their shared history and reuniting the families.

Much Ado About the Opele Chain

Synopsis: Two couples navigate love and deception. The central conflict arises from a plot to ruin one bride's reputation, overheard by a bumbling constable. The oracle's simple wisdom eventually exposes the treachery, allowing for a joyful, dance-filled resolution.

All’s Well That Ends in Ìwòrì

Synopsis: A low-born woman, in love with a nobleman who scorns her, uses the guidance of the Ìwòrì Odu and her wit to overcome seemingly impossible tasks set by the nobleman's family. Her perseverance and cleverness ultimately win his respect and affection.

History & Problem Plays

Exploring leadership, political turmoil, and the complex nature of justice.

Henry the Fifth and the Battle of Ògún

Synopsis: A young, newly crowned king must prove his mettle as a leader when facing a rival kingdom's invasion. Consulting the warrior deity Ògún through the Ifá oracle, he leads his troops to a decisive victory, a historical drama detailing the trials of kingship and martial strength.

Richard the Second’s Fall

Synopsis: A weak, self-indulgent king, who disregards the counsel of the elders and the oracle, is challenged by his capable cousin. The Ifá oracle justifies the cousin's claim, leading to the king's deposition and a study of the divine right of kingship versus competent rule.

Measure for Measure, the Oracle’s Way

Synopsis: A duke leaves his strict deputy in charge, who enforces an old, harsh law, condemning a man to death for fornication. The man's sister pleads for his life, leading to a moral dilemma and a complex exploration of justice, mercy, and hypocrisy, all ultimately untangled by the returning duke, who acts as the oracle's agent of balance.

Cymbeline in the Land of the Yoruba

Synopsis: A British king in ancient times clashes with Roman powers. The plot, set in a fictionalized Yoruba kingdom, involves a banished husband, a loyal wife, a villainous schemer, and a powerful Ifá vision that ultimately predicts a time of peace and reunification between the warring cultures.

The Winter’s Tale of Ogbè-Kà

Synopsis: A king, consumed by baseless jealousy, accuses his wife of infidelity, leading to the banishment of his newborn daughter and the death of his son. Sixteen years later, the daughter, raised as a shepherdess, falls in love with a prince. A statue comes to life, and the oracle's wisdom of the Ogbè-Kà Odu helps reconcile the families and heal old wounds.

Titus Andronicus and the Vengeance of Òsun

Synopsis: A Roman general returns victorious to his city but is embroiled in a cycle of vengeance with a captured queen and her sons. The escalating violence and brutality are a dark reflection of societal breakdown. The oracle of the gentle Òsun, goddess of harmony, is ignored until it is too late, offering a grim moral on the destructiveness of endless retribution.

The Moor Of Owu

The blogger ibikunle Abraham in the original outline shows a detailed Scene I for the play:

The Moor of Òwu: An Ìrosùn Tale

Genre: Tragedy (inspired by Othello and the themes of betrayal in the Odu Ìrosùn).

Central Theme: The destructive power of jealousy and how a noble mind, once poisoned by deceit, can destroy innocence and trust.

Ifá Focus: The Ìrosùn Odu, which often warns of betrayal and the need to maintain one's own integrity when others are deceitful. It speaks of the importance of ancestors (Egungun) and warns against selfishness.

Synopsis: Othèllò, a respected general of Òwu, marries the fair-skinned Desdèmóna. His ensign, Ìjàgó, bitter at being passed over for promotion, sows seeds of doubt about Desdèmóna's fidelity with Cassíò. Ìjàgó manipulates an ambiguous Ìrosùn divination, claiming it warns of a wife's hidden betrayal. Othèllò, consumed by jealousy, ignores his wife's truth and his own "Ori's" wisdom, ultimately murdering her and then himself when the truth of Ìjàgó's treachery is revealed.

ACT I

SCENE I. The streets of Òwu, by night. A clamour.

Enter RODERÌGÒ, a wealthy citizen, and ÌJÀGÓ, Othèllò’s ensign.

RODERÌGÒ:

I tell thee, Ìjàgó, this shall not pass;

My purse is lightened, and my hopes are dashed.

You swore to me that you would aid my suit

To win the hand of fair Desdèmóna.

But she, in stealth and silence of the night,

Hath linked her fate to Othèllò, the Moor!

You, his ensign, did know of this affair.

ÌJÀGÓ:

Roderìgò, peace! I knew it, but to scorn it.

As I am an honest man, I hate the Moor.

RODERÌGÒ:

You serve him still? That is a paradox!

ÌJÀGÓ:

He has boarded my boat; well, let him use me.

For know, my friend, I am not what I am.

He passed me by for one that never set

A squadron in the field, nor the division of a battle knows

More than a spinster; mere prattle, without practice,

Is all his soldiership. But he, the Moor,

Hath chosen Cassíò, a Florentine,

A fellow almost damned in a fair wife,

To be his lieutenant. I, his ancient,

Must serve the will of this proud, foreign lord.

I follow him to serve my turn upon him.

We must awaken Bàbá-Ìya, her sire.

RODERÌGÒ:

Here is the house. I'll call aloud.

ÌJÀGÓ:

Do so, and with the most tempestuous tongue

Of slander, raise his house! Cry on his name,

That it may shame him.

(RODERÌGÒ knocks violently at the door.)

RODERÌGÒ:

What ho, Bàbá-Ìya! Wake! Thieves! Thieves!

ÌJÀGÓ:

(To the window, where the aged senator Bàbá-Ìya appears)

Awake the sleeping citizens with us,

Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you!

You are robb’d; your heart is stol'n by the Moor.

Your daughter's love hath made a journey dark,

Against all natural rites and custom's law!

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

(Above)

What is the matter there? What clamour rude?

Are you men? What is ‘t you want?

ÌJÀGÓ:

Sir, you have lost your daughter!

A ram doth couple with your white ewe now!

Awake, I say! The Moor is in your fold!

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

Thou art a villain.

ÌJÀGÓ:

You are a senator.

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

This is the Prince of Òwu, Othèllò, whom you abuse!

My daughter is not with him.

RODERÌGÒ:

(To Bàbá-Ìya)

Sir, I am Roderìgò, whom your grace

Hath often heard discourse of Cassíò's suit.

She's with the Moor, I swear by Ifá’s chain!

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

How? With the Moor? Run to the King at once!

Gather your men! Othèllò shall be judged!

(BÀBÁ-ÌYA rushes from the window. Enter GUARDS with torches.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

Farewell, Roderìgò. I must away.

It would not do for me to be seen here

Against the General. I must appear loyal.

I’ll find him and alert him to the rage,

Then meet you at the court. Go, stir the Senator!

(Exit ÌJÀGÓ hastily.)

RODERÌGÒ:

I will. Woe is my heart!

(Exit RODERÌGÒ.)

ACT I 

SCENE II. Another part of the streets.

Enter OTHÈLLÒ, the Moor, and ÌJÀGÓ, who has run ahead of the others.

ÌJÀGÓ:

Though I do hate him as I hate the plague,

The Prince, Bàbá-Ìya, I must confess,

Spoke many a scurrilous word 'gainst your good name.

He swore in raging terms, Othèllò,

You had bewitch'd his daughter with some charm,

Or potions bought from hedge-witches of the grove.

'Twould vex my soul to hear a man so noble

So grossly wrong'd; but I, in Christian duty—

OTHÈLLÒ:

(Calmly)

'Tis well, 'tis well. I am not charm'd with his foul speech.

Let him do his worst. My services which I have done the state

Of Òwu, they shall out-tongue his complaints.

For know, Ìjàgó, I love Desdèmóna so much,

I would not change my life with the King's court

For the vast tribal lands. But soft, what lights?

(Enter CASSÍÒ with OFFICERS bearing torches.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

These are the Duke's officials. They seek you out.

OTHÈLLÒ:

The Duke? What urgent business calls at night?

CASSÍÒ:

The Duke commands your haste, good General.

The matters of the state are urgent now,

And all the council's roused; the northern raids,

They say, are a great threat. They wait for you.

OTHÈLLÒ:

I'll follow straight.

(Seeing another group approaching)

But look, what storm is this?

(Enter BÀBÁ-ÌYA, RODERÌGÒ, and SERVANTS, all with torches and weapons.)

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

Othèllò, thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd

My daughter? Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her!

Lay hold upon him! If you have the grace and power to execute upon him!

(Othèllò's men and Bàbá-Ìya's men draw swords and face each other. Othèllò raises a hand.)

OTHÈLLÒ:

Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them.

Good father, you have been abused; 'tis true.

If you have hurt my honour, strike me dead.

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

Down with the Moor! (To Othèllò) You shall answer for this!

The King shall hear this tale of sorcery.

OTHÈLLÒ:

I am required by the Duke, and the state's matters

Cannot be thus delayed. Let’s to the court.

There you shall have your justice, Bàbá-Ìya,

Be it my life or your own daughter's truth.

All ears shall hear our cause.

CASSÍÒ:

The General speaks with wisdom. To the Duke!

(Exeunt, all following OTHÈLLÒ in tense silence.)

SCENE III. The Council Chamber.

The DUKE OF ÒWU and SENATORS sit in council. OTHÈLLÒ, BÀBÁ-ÌYA, RODERÌGÒ, CASSÍÒ, and ATTENDANTS enter.

DUKE:

Valiant Othèllò, we must straight employ you

Against the fierce invasion from the North.

But you, good Bàbá-Ìya, seem disturb'd.

What private injury brings you here to court?

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

A tale of shame, a story to dismay

The father's heart! My daughter is abused,

Stol'n from my house and hearth, by spells and potions,

By Othèllò there, who has corrupted her!

DUKE:

(To Othèllò)

We did not look for this. What say you, Moor?

Have you the wisdom of an upright man?

OTHÈLLÒ:

Most potent, grave, and reverend senators,

My very noble and approved good masters:

That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,

It is most true; true, I have married her.

The head and front of my offending

Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech,

And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace.

I won his daughter with my life's strange story,

With tales of battles, journeys long and far,

Not with some charm or devilish sorcery.

Send for the lady to confess the truth;

If she denies that she was won by me,

Then let me bear the heaviest punishment.

DUKE:

Send for Desdèmóna.

(A MESSENGER is sent. The council waits in silence.)

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

You trust the Moor?

DUKE:

We trust his honour. See where she appears.

(Enter DESDÈMÓNA and MESSENGER.)*

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

Daughter, you owe obedience to my blood.

To whom do you give duty now? Your sire or him?

DESDÈMÓNA:

My noble father, I am bound to you

For life and education; but here's my husband,

And so much duty as my mother show'd

To you, preferring you before her father,

So much I challenge that I may profess

Due to my Moor, my lord, my Othèllò.

(The court murmurs in agreement. Bàbá-Ìya accepts his fate.)

DUKE:

The cause is settled. Othèllò, you must leave

To fight the North. Your wife may stay with us,

Or go with you, as is her heart's desire.

OTHÈLLÒ:

We go together. The war calls for haste.

ÌJÀGÓ:

(To himself, observing)

This match is made in heaven, but I shall make the bed in hell.

The Odu speaks of treachery, and I shall be that hand.

(The court rises. The WARRIORS prepare to depart. Curtain falls

ACT II

SCENE I. The Seaport of Òwu. A storm rages.

Enter CASSÍÒ and OFFICERS. The storm is violent.

CASSÍÒ:

The tempest doth rage fierce upon our shores!

The winds do howl, the waves do leap and crash.

No ship can sail this weather, I suspect

Our general’s vessel is in peril dire.

Great Ògún shield them from the watery grave!

(Enter ÌJÀGÓ, RODERÌGÒ, and DESDÈMÓNA.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

Good Cassíò, our ship made port in safety,

Though rattled by the storm. The general,

He stays behind upon the sea, yet safe.

CASSÍÒ:

Madam, a heavy welcome to this place!

I am glad you have made it safely to the shore.

(He takes Desdèmona’s hand and kisses it respectfully)

The general is a brave and noble man.

We wait his coming, and the end of war.

(Othèllò's ship is sighted.)

CASSÍÒ:

The Moor is safe! My heart is fill'd with joy!

(Enter OTHÈLLÒ and ATTENDANTS.)

OTHÈLLÒ:

O my fair warrior! My heart doth sing with joy

To see thy face upon this foreign shore!

If I were now to die, 'twere now to be most happy;

For I fear my soul hath her content so absolute

That not another comfort like to this

Succeeds in unknown fate.

DESDÈMÓNA:

The heavens speed you in your war and in your life.

OTHÈLLÒ:

Amen to that, sweet powers! I cannot speak enough of this content; it stops me here; it weeps for joy.

(They embrace.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

(To himself)

O, you are well tuned now! But I’ll set down the pegs that make this music, as honest as I am.

(He looks at Roderìgò)

Roderìgò, mark the courtesies that Cassíò doth give to the lady. He is a smooth-tongued villain, mark my words.

RODERÌGÒ:

I did observe it, and I did not like it.

ÌJÀGÓ:

In sooth, so did not I. The Odu Ìrosùn did warn of selfish hearts and betrayal. We shall use this warning to our advantage. The Moor must be made to see the truth.

(Exeunt all but ÌJÀGÓ and RODERÌGÒ.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

Hath Cassíò any sense of manly shame?

RODERÌGÒ:

He seems a very honourable man.

ÌJÀGÓ:

He is a rogue, and a base, lewd fellow!

This night we have a feast of celebration.

Cassíò has the watch. He must be made to drink.

We shall make him drunk, and then your quarrel

Will seem a just and righteous indignation.

Rouse the town with fighting, make a brawl!

The General shall hear, and dismiss the man.

RODERÌGÒ:

A brawl? I am not a fighter of the night.

ÌJÀGÓ:

Be a man! You love the lady, do you not?

If Cassíò is dismissed, the path is clear.

Now go and buy a flaggon of strong drink.

I'll do the rest.

(Exeunt, ÌJÀGÓ plotting with a wicked smile.)

SCENE II. A street before the castle.

Enter OTHÈLLÒ, CASSÍÒ, and OFFICERS.

OTHÈLLÒ:

Good Cassíò, know you our place of guard?

CASSÍÒ:

I do, my lord, their order is already set.

OTHÈLLÒ:

Ìjàgó is an honest fellow, I have found.

He shall assist you. Now, good night.

The war is done, but revelry tonight.

The guards must be alert, despite the wine.

CASSÍÒ:

My lord, I shall be vigilant.

(Exit OTHÈLLÒ. Enter ÌJÀGÓ.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

And so, the night begins its wicked dance.

Come, Cassíò, my friend, a cup of wine?

CASSÍÒ:

Not I, good Ìjàgó. I have a weak and thirsty brain.

I have drunk one cup tonight, and I am already light-headed.

ÌJÀGÓ:

Come, man, 'tis a night of joy! The General drinks a toast.

A single cup will not undo a man.

(ÌJÀGÓ leads CASSÍÒ off stage, then re-enters, slightly tipsy himself.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

He's drunk already, ripe for mischief's hand.

Now, Roderìgò, do your part, I pray.

(A noise of fighting and shouting is heard from off-stage. Roderìgò enters, running, pursued by Cassío with a drawn sword.)

RODERÌGÒ:

You rogue! You villain!

CASSÍÒ:

(Drunk and angry)

I’ll knock you to the ground, you piece of filth!

(They fight. OFFICERS rush in to break it up. The general alarm is sounded.)

OFFICER:

Peace, ho! For shame! The General will hear!

(Enter OTHÈLLÒ and ATTENDANTS, swords drawn.)

OTHÈLLÒ:

Silence that dreadful bell! It frights the isle!

What is the matter, here? Honesty, Ìjàgó, speak!

Who began this bloody, drunken fray?

ÌJÀGÓ:

I do not know. Good Cassíò, I thought, was sober,

And Roderìgò a gentleman of worth.

But they did fight as if the devil were in them.

OTHÈLLÒ:

(To Cassío)

Cassíò, I am ashamed of thee! Put off thy sword!

This is a night of shame. For thy good service,

I strip thee of thy office. You are no longer lieutenant.

(Cassío stands in drunken shame.)

CASSÍÒ:

Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial.

OTHÈLLÒ:

Good Ìjàgó, look to the town's quiet.

And you, Cassíò, go nurse your wounded pride.

We shall have peace tonight.

(Exeunt all but ÌJÀGÓ and CASSÍÒ.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

Go to, go to; you are too hard at war with yourself.

Make thy peace with the lady, Desdèmóna.

She has the General’s ear. She can restore thee.

CASSÍÒ:

You are a friend indeed. I will go to her.

(Exit CASSÍÒ, hopeful.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

(To himself)

And so the web is woven, stitch by stitch.

He will go to her; she will plead his case.

The Moor will see them whisper, and his heart,

Already prone to doubt his own deserts,

Shall turn to bitter poison, dark and deep.

The Odu speaks of envy’s bitter sting.

Othèllò’s fall shall be my sweet revenge.

(Curtain falls on Ìjàgó's wicked soliloquy.)

ACT III

SCENE I. The castle gardens. Morning.

Enter CASSÍÒ and EMÌLÌA (Ìjàgó’s wife and Desdèmóna’s attendant).

CASSÍÒ:

Good madam, I am bold to make a suit.

My general is displeased, and I am shamed.

If I might speak with fair Desdèmóna,

To beg her grace to help restore my place?

EMÌLÌA:

Do not despair, good Cassíò. My lady

Is most inclined to help you in your cause.

She knows you for an honest, worthy man,

And speaks of you already to the Moor.

She bids me say she will bestow her pains

To make your peace, and bring you to command.

I'll fetch her to you in the garden walk.

(Exit EMÌLÌA. Enter ÌJÀGÓ, from the other side.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

My wife with Cassíò? The plot proceeds

Even faster than my wicked mind could wish.

CASSÍÒ:

Ah, Ìjàgó! I have prevailed upon your wife

To help me speak with the most generous Desdèmóna.

ÌJÀGÓ:

Excellent wretch! A perfect start, my friend.

I'll keep the general occupied elsewhere,

Lest he disturb you. Go you to the lady.

(Exit CASSÍÒ. Enter OTHÈLLÒ, approaching from a distance.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

(To Othèllò, pointing subtly as Cassío bows to the approaching Desdèmona)

Ha! I like not that.

OTHÈLLÒ:

(To himself)

What dost thou say?

OTHÈLLÒ:

(Observing)

'Twas Cassíò, I think, that stole away so guilty-like,

As if he were a thing to be avoided.

ÌJÀGÓ:

My lord, for aught I know.

I cannot think it, that he would sneak away,

Seeing you coming.

OTHÈLLÒ:

(Growing suspicious)

I do believe 'twas he.

(DESDÈMÓNA approaches OTHÈLLÒ, having just finished her brief conversation with Cassío.)

DESDÈMÓNA:

My lord, I have been talking with a suitor here,

A man that languishes in your displeasure.

OTHÈLLÒ:

Who is ‘t you mean?

DESDÈMÓNA:

Why, your lieutenant, Cassíò. Good my lord,

If I have any grace or power to move you,

His fault is great, but not so great a crime

As his dismissal calls for. He is sorry.

Restore him, noble Othèllò.

OTHÈLLÒ:

(Disturbed)

Not now, sweet Desdèmóna; some other time.

DESDÈMÓNA:

But shall ‘t be short? Next morning? Or next night?

Othèllò, I have spoke the Odu Ìrosùn for you.

It warns against the selfish, closed-off heart.

Trust your true friends, and show them mercy’s hand.

For Cassíò is honest.

OTHÈLLÒ:

(Visibly troubled, his mind poisoned by Ìjàgó's earlier whisperings)

Leave me, my love, a little to myself.

DESDÈMÓNA:

I am obedient. I leave you, my lord.

(Exit DESDÈMÓNA.)

OTHÈLLÒ:

(To himself, watching her leave)

Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul

But I do love thee! and when I love thee not,

Chaos is come again.

(ÌJÀGÓ steps forward, adopting a serious, concerned demeanor.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

My noble lord...

OTHÈLLÒ:

What dost thou say, Ìjàgó?

ÌJÀGÓ:

Did Michael Cassíò, when you woo'd my lady,

Know of your love?

OTHÈLLÒ:

He did, from first to last. Why dost thou ask?

ÌJÀGÓ:

But for a satisfaction of my thought;

No further harm.

OTHÈLLÒ:

Why, of thy thought, Ìjàgó?

ÌJÀGÓ:

(Feigning reluctance)

My lord, I would I might forget myself;

But I am full of love and honesty,

And weigh what nots I should. What if I think?

OTHÈLLÒ:

Think, my lord? By heaven, thou echo'st me,

As if there were some monster in thy thought

Too hideous to be shown. The Odu Ìrosùn speaks of honesty and integrity, Ìjàgó. Speak your mind plainly!

ÌJÀGÓ:

O, beware, my lord, of jealousy!

It is the green-ey'd monster which doth mock

The meat it feeds on. That she loves you, I think she doth;

That she is honest, I think she is. But yet...

I saw her lean so closely to Cassíò in the garden.

Consider the place and age of your new bride.

She did deceive her father, marrying you.

OTHÈLLÒ:

(Agonized)

And so she did.

ÌJÀGÓ:

The oracle did warn of a close betrayal.

You dismissed the priest’s words, my noble Moor.

Observe her well with Cassíò. Watch her actions.

I speak but from my love. I humbly take my leave.

(Exit ÌJÀGÓ, leaving OTHÈLLÒ alone and tormented.)

OTHÈLLÒ:

(To himself)

This honest Ìjàgó...

If she be false, O, then heaven mocks itself!

I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove;

And on the proof, there is no more but this:

Away at once with love or jealousy!

My life upon her faith!

(Exit OTHÈLLÒ, consumed by doubt.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

Nothing, my lord; or if you know what 'tis,

I know not what it is.

continue

ACT 3

SCENE II. Another room in the castle.

EMÌLÌA:

This napkin is found.

Her wayward husband has asked to steal it many times,

but she loves it because Othèllò gave it to her; it was her first gift.

It is adorned with sacred Cowrie shells.

This will be dropped where the Moor or Ìjàgó may find it.

What is the matter?

(Enter OTHÈLLÒ.)

OTHÈLÒ:

(To himself)

Ha! handkerchiefs! confessions! handkerchiefs!

EMÌLÌA:

My lord, you are not well.

OTHÈLÒ:

Don't be afraid; your husband is a serpent, but this cannot be believed.

(Emìlia hurries away in confusion. Enter ÌJÀGÓ, gleeful.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

How is it, my lord? You are in the garden, lost in thought.

Has something troubled your mind?

OTHÈLÒ:

(Seizing Ìjàgó by the throat)

Villain, prove my love a whore,

prove it; give me the proof!

Or by the worth of man’s eternal soul,

You would have been better born a dog

Than answer my challenged wrath!

ÌJÀGÓ:

O grace! O heaven forgive me!

Are you a man? Have you a soul or sense?

God be with you; take your office. O wretched fool,

That lives to make your honesty a vice!

O world, O world! That honest men should be such fools,

And practice cowardice to give advice!

OTHÈLÒ:

By the world, the wife is honest, and the wife is not. You are honest, and you are not.

Some proof is needed! Her name, which was fresh as Ifá’s spring, is now begrimed and black as my own face!

Show a sign!

ÌJÀGÓ:

(Feigning sorrow)

Passion has consumed you.

Something will be told, but honesty

Shall break my master's heart. He was with Cassíò lately;

He was not asked, but in a broken sleep,

He cried 'Sweet Desdèmóna!' then 'Othèllò cursed his fate!'

He kissed my lips, and laid his leg over my thigh.

He said he would not be Othèllò for the world.

These are dreams, my lord, the meaning is unknown.

OTHÈLÒ:

O, that the slave had forty thousand lives!

This human proof consumes. But this is a dream?

ÌJÀGÓ:

Yes, a dream that hints at a reality.

Furthermore, a handkerchief was seen,

Your first gift to the lady, one with Cowrie shells,

In Cassíò’s hand.

OTHÈLÒ:

O! O! O! (Falls into a trance.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

(To himself, kneeling beside him)

Work on, medicine, work! Thus the fools are caught.

The Moor is in a trance;

The Odu Ìrosùn’s shadow falls upon his mind.

(Othèllò stirs, raving.)

The Moor Of Owu.part two

SCENE III. A chamber in the castle.

DESDÈMÓNA and EMÌLÌA.

DESDÈMÓNA:

Where is my lord? He has not been seen since

The afternoon. He has dined with the King's men.

EMÌLÌA:

He seems distraught, madam. Something has changed him.

DESDÈMÓNA:

The handkerchief was not found. There is a foreboding fear.

Sing that song, Emìlia; it is old and plain.

The song of the Willow. My mother’s maid did sing it.

(She sings the "Willow Song" mournfully.)

DESDÈMÓNA:

(Sighing)

The Ori (destiny) is clouded now.

You should have never seen him, Emìlia.

EMÌLÌA:

The King commands your presence at the feast, madam.

You must be merry, though your heart be sad.

DESDÈMÓNA:

The heart is heavy, but the face smiles.

May Othèllò find peace, though it is not found.

(Exeunt.)

ACT IV

SCENE I. Before the castle. A street by night.

Enter ÌJÀGÓ and RODERÌGÓ.

ÌJÀGÓ:

The hour has come. Cassíò approaches now.

He thinks that his place will be gained.

Hide behind the wall. Strike when he appears.

If he lives, the plot unravels.

RODERÌGÓ:

The mettle for this deed is not present.

ÌJÀGÓ:

Fool! If you want the lady, strike him dead!

(Ìjàgó hides. Enter CASSÍÒ, humming a tune.)

CASSÍÒ:

The air is fresh tonight.

RODERÌGÓ:

(Attacks him from behind)

Villain, take that!

(He stabs Cassío, but the stab is weak, and Cassio is barely hurt.)

CASSÍÒ:

I am maim'd for life! Help, ho! Murder, murder!

(Cassio draws his own sword. Iago emerges from his hiding place, stabs Cassio deeply, and runs away. Roderìgò runs in panic.)

(Enter OTHÈLLÒ from a distance, hearing the cries.)

OTHÈLÒ:

The voice of Cassíò. Ìjàgó works with speed and honesty.

He keeps his word. Now for my part.

Justice is calling, and it must be obeyed.

(Exit Othèllò toward the castle. Enter ÌJÀGÓ and EMÌLÌA, with lights.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

What noise is this? Murder in the street?

EMÌLÌA:

Alas, a cry of death!

ÌJÀGÓ:

(Seeing the wounded Cassio)

Othèllò’s man, good Cassíò, is wounded!

(Seeing Roderìgò hiding)

O villain! Here's a cry!

(Ìjàgó stabs Roderìgò dead and then attends to Cassio.)

ÌJÀGÓ:

They bleed well, both! This night will end my woes,

And start Othèllò’s reign of jealous might.

The truth is buried with this foolish lord.

(Emìlia screams and runs for help.)

SCENE II. A bedchamber in the castle. Desdèmona asleep in her bed. A lamp burns.

Enter OTHÈLLÒ.

OTHÈLÒ:

It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul.

Let it not be named to you, you chaste stars!

It is the cause. Yet her blood will not be shed,

Nor that whiter skin scarred than snow.

But she must die, or she'll betray more men.

Put out the light, and then put out the light.

(He kisses her)

O balmy breath, that almost persuades

Justice to break her sword! One more, one more.

Be thus when you are dead, and I will kill you,

And love you after.

(He shakes her awake)

Desdèmóna, wake!

DESDÈMÓNA:

Will you come to bed, my lord?

OTHÈLÒ:

Have you pray'd tonight, Desdèmóna?

DESDÈMÓNA:

Yes, my lord.

OTHÈLÒ:

If you think of any crime

Unreconcil'd as yet to heaven and grace,

Solicit for it straight.

DESDÈMÓNA:

Alas, my lord, what may you mean by that?

OTHÈLÒ:

Think on your sins.

DESDÈMÓNA:

The loves are borne to you.

OTHÈLÒ:

Yes, and for that you die.

DESDÈMÓNA:

I never did offend you in my life.

I never loved Cassíò but with general love.

Send for him, and ask him.

OTHÈLÒ:

He is dead, and his confession stops your mouth.

DESDÈMÓNA:

Othèllò, the Lord have mercy on me!

OTHÈLÒ:

I say, amen.

DESDÈMÓNA:

A guiltless death I die!

(OTHÈLLÒ strangles her. She struggles and dies.)

OTHÈLÒ:

She's dead. It is done. The oracle is fulfilled.

The betrayal is purged.

(A noise at the door. Enter EMÌLÌA, distraught.)

EMÌLÌA:

My lord, the prince, Bàbá-Ìya, has arrived!

A terrible truth is found! The villain Ìjàgó...

OTHÈLÒ:

(Coldly)

He is honest, and has done my bidding. My wife was false.

EMÌLÌA:

O, my lord, she was chaste! And Ìjàgó, O, Ìjàgó! He did this!

He made me steal her handkerchief! He planted it!

He is a villain, a most wicked slave!

OTHÈLÒ:

(Stunned into silence)

No...

EMÌLÌA:

He lied! The Odu Ìrosùn’s betrayal was his own, not hers!

You have killed the purest thing alive!

(Othèllò realizes the truth. He draws his sword.)

OTHÈLÒ:

O fool! O fool! Othèllò's occupation's gone!

I am undone!

(Enter BÀBÁ-ÌYA, the DUKE, OFFICERS, and the wounded CASSÍÒ.)

BÀBÁ-ÌYA:

See how the Moor hath killed my innocent child!

OTHÈLÒ:

(Staring at the body, then at the company)

A word or two before you go. The state has been served, and they know ‘t.

Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,

Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak

Of one that loved not wisely but too well;

Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought

Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose hand,

Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away

Richer than all his tribe.

(He turns to his wife’s body)

I kissed you before I killed you. There is no way but this,

Killing myself, to die upon a kiss.

(OTHÈLLÒ stabs himself and falls dead upon the body of DESDÈMÓNA. The court is silent in horror.)

CASSÍÒ:

Othèllò was a noble lord.

DUKE:

The tragedy of Ogbè-Àtè warned the King, but this Ìrosùn tale warns the heart.

Take the villain Ìjàgó for his justice. The day is indeed dark.

(Curtain falls on the tragic scene.)

Enter EMÌLÌA, carrying a handkerchief.

The Tragedy Of King Ogbe's Folly.

The bard and also the blogger opens an original dramatic opening scene for one of the suggested plays, written in the style of Shakespearean blank verse, specifically for The Tragedy of King Ogbè’s Folly.

The Tragedy of King Ogbè’s Folly

ACT I

SCENE I. A chamber in the King’s palace at dawn.

Enter KING GBOROYE, a severe, aging man, and BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ, a priest, bearing the OPELÈ divining chain.

KING GBOROYE:

Good morrow, Babaláwo. The sun yet sleeps,

And shadows linger in my chamber's breadth.

You come with tidings from the realm unseen,

The weight of Ifá’s counsel for my ear?

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

My lord the King, I have consulted Ifá,

And cast the sacred nuts at your behest,

To seek the safety of this sovereign realm,

And ease the doubts that plague your royal mind.

KING GBOROYE:

Speak plainly, priest. What Odu hath appeared?

What warning voice doth whisper from the grove?

Is ‘t war? Is ‘t famine? Doth a plague approach?

I have the mettle for a public foe.

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

The sign that fell was Ogbè-Àtè, my liege.

A potent word of counsel and of peril.

It speaks of one who smiles whilst bearing gall,

A viper nurtured close unto the heart,

Whose venomous ambition seeks your crown.

KING GBOROYE:

A traitor in my midst? Fie on the thought!

My court is built on honour, tried and true.

Who is this fiend that Ifá doth conjure?

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

The oracle is wise, but cloth’d in metaphor.

It speaks of envy, born of lesser blood,

Who views your throne with covetous, green eye.

It urges sacrifice: the timely offering

Of vigilance and wisdom, swift applied.

The danger is not from without, but here.

KING GBOROYE:

(Scoffing)

A metaphor? A tale to fright a child!

You priests do spin a web of mystery

From random shells that tumble on the mat.

Ogbè-Àtè? I know the Odu well;

It promises great fortune to the bold,

Not spectre tales of shadows in the dark.

You counsel sacrifice? I'll sacrifice

The notion that your divination’s truth.

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

My King, disdain not Ifá’s potent voice.

The spirits speak in earnest. Heed their call.

The blood-kin closest to your royal self

Doth harbour thoughts that poison loyalty.

KING GBOROYE:

(Angrily)

Enough! Your words offend my royal ear,

And cast a pall upon my kinsmen’s faith!

Is it my brother you imply, or son?

Away with you! Your counsel is dismissed.

I rule by sword and sense, not superstition.

The oracle is silent when the king commands.

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

(Bowing gravely)

As you command, my lord. But mark my words:

When wisdom’s path is scorned, then destiny

Doth write the tale in tears upon the stage.

I take my leave. The warning stands recorded.

(Exit BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ. The King stands alone, troubled but obstinate.)

KING GBOROYE:

The fool doth prate of fate and hidden foes.

My brother, Oba, is a man of mirth,

Whose loyalty is solid as the earth.

This prophecy shall wither with the dawn.

(A beat)

Yet, why this chill that runs along my spine?

No matter. We prepare for the day's hunt.

(Exit KING GBOROYE.)

is the rest of the play:

ACT II (Continued)

SCENE II. A room in the palace.

Enter KING GBOROYE.

KING GBOROYE:

(Pacing, agitated)

That priest's words still echo in my ears,

A serpent in my house, a kinsman's plot.

Olàkunlé? My brother? Impossible!

We have always been close. And yet...

He seemed so eager for this war.

Too eager. I must test his loyalty.

(Enter GUARDSMAN.)

GUARDSMAN:

My King, a messenger from the north has come.

He bears tidings of the battle's start.

KING GBOROYE:

Send him in at once! This waiting chafes.

(Exit GUARDSMAN. Enter a MESSENGER, travel-stained and weary.)

MESSENGER:

My King! I bring grim news from the frontier!

The northern tribes, they fell upon our force

With savage fury. Captain Bamidele,

Brave as a lion, fought with valiant heart,

But treachery, it seems, has sealed his fate.

KING GBOROYE:

Treachery? What mean you, speak plainly, man!

MESSENGER:

The maps were wrong, the supply lines did fail.

The troop was ambushed, caught in deadly snare.

The Captain and his men, they fought like gods,

But they were overwhelmed. Bamidele is dead.

KING GBOROYE:

(Stunned, sinking onto his throne)

Dead? Bamidele? My loyal captain, lost?

And treachery? Who could betray us so?

MESSENGER:

The details are unclear, but rumors fly

Of faulty maps and a delay of grain.

Some whisper foul play...

KING GBOROYE:

(Eyes narrowing)

Foul play, you say? Olàkunlé...

MESSENGER:

(Hesitates)

My King, I have no proof, I speak only

Of whispers on the wind.

KING GBOROYE:

(Rising, his voice cold)

Enough. Summon my brother here at once!

And have the Royal Scribes prepare the scrolls.

We shall have answers to this tragedy.

A reckoning is coming, and it will be swift.

(Exit MESSENGER. KING GBOROYE stands, his face a mask of sorrow and anger.)

KING GBOROYE:

(To himself)

If my brother is the viper in my house,

Then Ifá’s words, though scorned, were true indeed.

But if he is innocent of this foul deed,

I will have justice for Bamidele’s death.

Either way, the kingdom will be safe.

(Exit KING GBOROYE.)

SCENE III. The palace great hall. Later.

Enter OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ and ADÉBÁYÒ.

OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ:

(Beaming)

The news from the North, has it reached the King?

The Captain, did he fall? Our plan succeeds!

The kingdom is now ripe for my control.

ADÉBÁYÒ:

It seems the King has received the message, yes,

For he has summoned you this very morn.

I fear, my Lord, the King suspects a foul plot.

I hear he is enraged.

OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ:

Enraged? Let him be! The truth is hidden.

They will never know how all occurred.

He cannot prove a thing. My time is near!

Soon I will sit upon the royal throne,

And the kingdom will rejoice.

(Enter GUARDSMAN.)

GUARDSMAN:

Prince Olàkunlé, the King awaits you now.

He sits in council, and his aspect is grave.

OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ:

(Smiling broadly)

I come at once. Lead the way.

(Exeunt GUARDSMAN and OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ. ADÉBÁYÒ remains, a look of unease on his face.)

ADÉBÁYÒ:

(To himself)

The King's wrath is a fearsome thing to see.

And should my Lord be guilty of this crime,

Then all of us will pay the price, I fear.

Oh, if I had but never followed him.

(Exit ADÉBÁYÒ.)

SCENE IV. The palace great hall.

The KING GBOROYE sits on the throne, surrounded by LORDS, COUNCILLORS, and GUARDS. OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ enters, bowing low.

OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ:

My King, you summoned me? I come at once

To serve you with my life and loyalty.

KING GBOROYE:

(His voice like ice)

Loyalty, you say? Tell me, brother,

What do you know of the events in the North?

The death of Bamidele? The treachery?

OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ:

(Feigning surprise)

My King! What news is this? The Captain dead?

I am grieved to hear it. A tragic loss!

What treachery do you speak of?

KING GBOROYE:

(Eyes him steadily)

The maps were faulty, and the grain did fail.

A planned attack, it seems. A betrayal!

I suspect there are traitors in my court.

I want the truth.

OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ:

(Maintaining his composure)

My King, if you suspect me of some foul deed,

Then search my chambers, question all my staff.

My heart is pure, and my hands are clean.

KING GBOROYE:

(To the GUARDS)

Seize him! Search his chambers! Find the truth!

(The GUARDS move to seize OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ. He struggles briefly, then gives a cynical smile.)

OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ:

So be it, brother. You choose to believe

The whispers of that foolish, old priest.

The oracle, you see, was right, after all.

(The GUARDS lead OBA OLÁKÙNLÉ away. The LORDS and COUNCILLORS murmur in shock and confusion.)

KING GBOROYE:

(To the remaining COUNCILLORS)

Find all the evidence. Bring me the truth.

And then, justice shall be done.

The viper has been revealed.

(The King sits heavily on his throne, his face etched with sorrow and betrayal. The curtain falls.)

The play concludes with Act V

ACT V

SCENE I. The King’s private chambers. Dawn is breaking.

KING GBOROYE:

The deed is done. My brother is no more.

Justice was served, and the realm is secure.

Yet, I feel hollow, as an empty drum.

The crown I saved is stained with brother’s blood.

If I had heeded Ifá from the start,

Perhaps this tragedy could have been curbed.

A moment's pride, a kingly arrogance,

Hath made a murderer of a brother's heart.

(Enter ADÉWÁLÉ. He bows.)

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

My King. The sun doth rise upon a peaceful realm.

The people cheer your name and strength of will.

KING GBOROYE:

They cheer the strength that broke a family.

Adéwalé, what lesson does Ifá teach

Through this harsh, bloody chapter of my reign?

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

(Gently)

The lesson, King, lies not in fate alone,

But in the wisdom used to navigate

The river of our days. Ifá provides

The map, the warning; you, the King, must choose

The vessel and the course. The Odu said:

"He who ignores the counsel of the elders

Shall find his path entwined with sorrow's vine."

But also, "When the ear is quick to hear,

The heart finds peace, though trials be severe."

You heard at last, and justice was the result.

KING GBOROYE:

Then wisdom’s ear I’ll keep, henceforth, open wide.

And rule this land with justice, not just pride.

The tragedy of folly ends today.

Let’s seek the light and drive the shades away.

(The King stands resolute. The sun rises fully through the window.)

(Curtain falls.)

KING GBOROYE sits alone, staring into a dying fire.

O the triumphant, glorious resolution, where the King's wisdom prevails just in time.

The Tragedy of King Ogbè’s Folly (Revised Glorious Ending)

ACT V

SCENE I. The King’s private chambers. Dawn is breaking.

KING GBOROYE sits alone, deep in thought. The scroll with his brother’s confession lies on the table.

KING GBOROYE:

(To himself)

My brother’s hand confessed the foulest treason,

The map, the timing, all a wicked plot.

The viper truly lived within my walls.

I gave the order for his execution,

To purge the treason and secure the realm.

But blood for blood, I fear, doth stain the crown.

Was justice served, or vengeance swift and cruel?

(Enter BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ. He bows.)

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

My King. A runner from the northern front.

A miracle, they say, hath saved the day.

KING GBOROYE:

(Staring at him, distracted)

Miracle? Speak sense. The Captain’s dead.

We mourn Bamidele and his lost command.

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

Nay, Sire! He lives! Through some strange fortune's grace,

He and his men were lost, yet found a path,

A hidden valley where the foes could not reach.

They rallied, regrouped, and struck the foe’s rear!

The northern tribes are scatter’d to the wind.

The war is won, your Captain lives, the realm is safe!

KING GBOROYE:

(Stands in astonishment, joy dawning on his face)

He lives! The gods are merciful indeed!

Adéwalé, the scales fall from my eyes.

My anger made me blind to mercy’s plea.

If Ifá granted life to Bamidele,

Perhaps I should grant life to my own kin.

The Odu spoke of peril, but not doom.

The warning was a guide, not prophecy set in stone!

BABALÁWO ADÉWÁLÉ:

Indeed, my King. Wisdom lies in the balance.

Justice tempered by the hand of grace.

KING GBOROYE:

(Turns to a guardsman standing by the door)

Ho, guardsman! Run with haste! Unto the dungeon!

Stay the execution of Prince Olàkunlé!

Bring him before me. He shall live, but banish’d

From this fair kingdom for his wicked plots.

A life of exile is his punishment,

Not death, for the gods have shown us mercy here.

(The GUARDSMAN bows and rushes out.)

(Enter LORDS and CAPTAIN BAMIDELE, who is weary but alive.)

LORDS & OTHERS:

Long live the King! Long live the King Gboroye!

CAPTAIN BAMIDELE:

My liege! The day is ours! We secured the pass!

Your kingdom stands strong!

KING GBOROYE:

(Embracing the Captain)

Bamidele, brave heart! You bring great joy!

This day we celebrate the peace of Ifá,

A glorious end to war, and to my folly.

Let bells ring out! A feast for all the realm!

Wisdom shall guide us, mercy be our song!

The realm is safe, and we have peace at last.

(The King raises his sword in triumph as the sun shines brightly through the window. Joyful music plays.)

(Curtain falls on a tableau of celebration and reconciliation.

The Mirror Of Osetura

The blogger ibikunle Abraham laniyan churns out another play.Here is the opening scene for a long play in a style inspired by Shakespearean tragedy and blank verse, drawing on a different Odu of the Ifá tradition.

Play Title: The Mirror of Osetura: A Tale of Pride and Prophecy

Dramatis Personae

OBA BELLO: The powerful King of the city-state of Oyo, proud and defiant.

AWOYEMI: The Chief Babaláwo, a wise but cautious priest.

AREMO SEGUN: Oba Bello’s favored and ambitious son, the Crown Prince.

PRINCESS TUMINU: Oba Bello's strong-willed daughter.

BABA SANMI: An elder, loyal chief.

MESSENGERS, GUARDS, ATTENDANTS.

Act I, Scene I

Setting: The King’s inner court in Oyo. A vibrant, wealthy place. Thunder rumbles distantly.

Enter OBA BELLO, AREMO SEGUN, and BABA SANMI.

OBA BELLO

This rain holds off, yet thunder shakes the skies.

A heavy mood doth hang o'er wealthy Oyo,

Though all our barns are full, our markets rich.

The people whisper, speak of hidden signs,

Of troubled Odu cast by Awoyemi.

What is this gloom? Are we not strong and blessed?

The speaker rules with iron hand and just decree.

Why doth the Oracle persist in shadow?

BABA SANMI

My liege, the people love you, fear your might.

But Awoyemi, the chief of all the priests,

Doth counsel caution. He has cast the nuts,

And Osetura appeared, a potent sign.

It speaks of one who looks into the glass,

And loves the image more than what is real.

Pride goes before the fall, the Odu warns.

OBA BELLO

(Laughing loudly)

Pride? Is it pride to love one's mighty city?

To guard our borders and to keep the peace?

If that be pride, then call the speaker proud indeed!

Awoyemi grows old, his sight less keen.

He sees a storm where there is only wind.

Send him to the speaker. The speaker would hear this prophecy

From the priest’s own lips, and laugh it to his face.

Baba Sanmi exits, looking troubled.

AREMO SEGUN

Father, perhaps the seer means not your reign,

But one among the court, some lesser soul

Whose arrogance offends the great Orishas.

The speaker fears no ill that touches you.

Your strength is Oyo’s strength, your reign ordained.

OBA BELLO

Well said, my son. Your confidence becomes you.

You are the pillar on which the speaker rests his hope.

When the speaker is gone, this kingdom shall be yours,

A golden age of peace and potent sway.

We have no truck with seers and their dark tales.

The speaker makes his own fate, by his own will.

Enter AWOYEMI, looking grave, attended by several priests.

AWOYEMI

Health to the King, and peace unto his house.

OBA BELLO

Awoyemi, your face is long with woe.

What heavy news brings you before the throne?

The speaker hears you speak of Osetura,

A mirror held before a kingly eye.

Speak, old man. Unburden your prophetic soul.

AWOYEMI

My King, the Odu speaks of destiny

That is ignored, of warnings cast aside.

"The mirror shows the face, but not the heart."

The gods are angry with a lack of grace,

A lack of homage, and a stubborn will

That claims its triumphs are its own design,

Forgetting the good grace of the Orishas.

OBA BELLO

(His smile fading, his voice cold)

We give our sacrifice, the speaker keeps the laws.

What homage more can the speaker give to unseen powers?

The speaker has built this city with his hands,

Defended it with blood and sharpened steel!

The speaker owes no thanks to airy spirits!

A second, louder clap of thunder crashes overhead.

AREMO SEGUN

Father, calm yourself! Do not provoke the gods!

AWOYEMI

(Stepping forward, brave)

The King denies the source of all his strength.

The Odu warns you: "Pride shall lead to shame."

The gods demand humility, a change of heart.

If you persist in this defiant path,

Oyo shall fall, and all its wealth turn dust.

A rival king, long held in weak esteem,

Shall rise and conquer you upon the field!

OBA BELLO

(Standing, enraged, drawing his dagger)

A rival? Which fool dares to challenge me?

You speak of traitors, priest, and hidden foes!

The speaker has no rival! The speaker is supreme!

You lie! You spread dissent within my court!

Take him away! Confine him to the cells!

The speaker will not hear another word of this sedition!

Guards seize Awoyemi.

AWOYEMI

(As he is dragged away)

You seal your fate, King Bello! You deny the truth!

The mirror holds your downfall, clear and plain!

Osetura brings shame to those who scorn its truth!

Awoyemi is dragged off. Oba Bello stands breathing heavily, his pride wounded, the dagger still in his hand.

OBA BELLO

There is no power greater than Bello's might!

No rival king, no Odu's prophecy,

Shall dictate terms to the speaker of Oyo!

The speaker makes his fate! The speaker rules supreme!

He sheathes his dagger with a loud snap, just as another massive clap of thunder shakes the entire palace. The lights dim.

(The play would continue as King Bello’s pride causes him to make terrible military and political decisions, ignoring all warnings, leading to the rise of the supposed "weak" rival, and the inevitable, tragic fall of his wealthy city.)

Act I, Scene II

Setting: A private garden within the palace walls. The atmosphere is quiet, a stark contrast to the previous scene.

Enter PRINCESS TUMINU, reading a scroll. Enter AREMO SEGUN.

AREMO SEGUN

Sister, you seem deep in thought. Does the speaker mistake?

The court is in turmoil. Father has imprisoned Awoyemi.

He speaks of pride as strength, of fate as fiction.

PRINCESS TUMINU

And so he signs his death warrant, dear Segun.

Awoyemi is a wise and holy man.

The speaker heard the Odu: Osetura.

It speaks of balance lost, of self-adoration

That blinds the soul to greater cosmic truths.

Our father, in his strength, sees only power.

He thinks the gods are servants to his will.

AREMO SEGUN

He is our King, Tuminu. His strength has kept us safe.

This talk of rivals, this weak, unnamed king,

It sounds like fancy, born of an old man’s fear.

The speaker fears the seer spreads the rumour of our weakness,

Not that it holds truth.

PRINCESS TUMINU

Fear of truth is weakness, brother.

The Oracle has never failed this realm.

When the speaker looks into the mirror of Ifá, the speaker sees

The consequence of action, plain and clear.

Father denies the mirror's honest gaze.

He chooses blindness, a most fatal flaw.

AREMO SEGUN

What can we do? He is the King. His word is law.

To challenge him is treason, is to court

The very chaos that the Odu warns against.

The speaker must obey, protect the line.

If father wills a war, the speaker shall command his troops.

PRINCESS TUMINU

(A look of sorrow)

Then you are blind as he, though in a different way.

You see obedience, where the speaker sees a path

To ruin paved with pride and stubborn might.

The gods demand we listen, not just obey

A proud man’s will. The speaker shall seek counsel

From the other priests, away from father's eye.

If a rival king exists, we must know all.

Peace is worth more than prideful war.

AREMO SEGUN

Be careful, Tuminu. Walk a careful line.

Father's wrath is fierce, his power absolute.

He spared Awoyemi's life, but might not spare his daughter's.

The speaker would not see you come to harm.

Oladipo exits with resolve, Tuminu with deep concern.

Act II, Scene I

Setting: A rival King’s camp, far to the east. A humble setting, not a palace.

Enter KING GBADEBO

Act II, Scene I

Setting: A rival King’s camp, far to the east. A humble setting, not a palace.

Enter KING GBADEBO, a quiet, thoughtful man, and his loyal general, COMMANDER IGE.

COMMANDER IGE (Prose)

My King, the news from Oyo is good news indeed!

Bello, the great King, has imprisoned his chief priest.

He scoffs at prophecy, at warnings from the gods.

He speaks of you with scorn, as "weak" and "unworthy".

KING GBADEBO (Verse)

Weakness is a state of mind, not might of arms.

Bello has wealth, a massive, shining army.

But we have the favour of Ifá, do we not?

Awoyemi sent word, ere he was seized,

That Osetura favors the humble heart.

Bello's pride shall be his fatal wound.

COMMANDER IGE (Prose)

So we strike now? While he is blinded by his rage?

The people of Oyo are discontent, fearful of the curse.

KING GBADEBO

Not yet. To strike now would be using force

Against a king who simply errors in his judgment.

The Odu demands that Bello fall by his own hand,

By his own foolish pride, not ours.

We wait, and let his arrogance consume him.

Ifá prepares the path, we merely walk upon it.

We gather strength, we train our men in silence.

When Bello makes his fatal, proud mistake,

We shall be ready to restore the balance.

They exit, calm and resolved.

Act II, Scene II

Setting: The palace council chamber in Oyo. King Bello is meeting with his Chiefs.

OBA BELLO

The speaker has decided. We shall not wait

For this supposed "rival" to amass his strength.

We march on Gbadebo’s lands, a swift campaign.

We crush this whisper of a challenger,

Act III, Scene I

Setting: A war tent in the field, on the border between Oyo and Gbadebo's territory. Banners of Oyo fly outside. The mood is tense.

Enter OBA BELLO and AREMO SEGUN, heavily armored.

OBA BELLO

The rains have turned our path to treacherous mud,

Yet we advance! The river crossing is secure.

Gbadebo's forces hide like frightened mice,

Refusing open battle. Cowards all!

AREMO SEGUN

They use the land, my father. They are wise in their defense.

Their scouts are swift; they harass our supply lines.

Our men grow weary of the endless mud,

And whisper of Awoyemi's prophecy.

They say the gods oppose this very march.

OBA BELLO

(Striking a map table with his gauntleted fist)

Then they are fools, and you their feeble voice!

We press on to the capital of Gbadebo's realm.

The speaker will have this war concluded swiftly.

Their fear is our advantage, use it well!

We fight tomorrow, come what may! The speaker commands!

AREMO SEGUN

(Bowing stiffly)

As you command, my liege. The speaker shall prepare

The troops for battle, though the Odu warns

That swift attack leads only to despair.

Segun exits. Enter BABA SANMI, who has accompanied the army.

BABA SANMI

My King, a messenger from Princess Tuminu arrived,

In haste, with urgent news she begs you hear.

She sends this message from the priests in Oyo.

OBA BELLO

(Snatching the scroll, irritated)

What now? More female fears and priestly tales?

(He reads the scroll, his face hardening)

"Gbadebo has Ifá’s full and potent favour.

He has made a great sacrifice to Ogun, god of war,

Who has accepted it. Your path is cursed."

(He crumples the paper and throws it into a small fire pit)

Lies! Superstition! The speaker makes his own fate!

We fight tomorrow, Sanmi. See it done.

He exits the tent in a rage. Sanmi shakes his head.

BABA SANMI

The man is blind with pride, a tragic king.

He rushes to his doom with open eyes,

And drags his kingdom with him to the grave.

The mirror shows the truth, but he destroys the glass.

Act III, Scene II

Setting: The battlefield at dawn. The 

Act III, Scene II

Setting: The battlefield at dawn. The ground is muddy. Oyo's large army is arrayed against Gbadebo's smaller, but well-positioned forces.

Enter KING GBADEBO and COMMANDER IGE, watching the field.

COMMANDER IGE

They come, my King, in prideful, strong array!

Their numbers vastly swell our meager force.

We are undone!

KING GBADEBO

Nay, fear not, good Ige.

Bello's strength is his undoing, his vast force

Too slow, too burdened by the heavy mud.

Ogun the War God favors those with wisdom,

Not merely might. We use the terrain,

The traps are set, the hidden paths secured.

Watch how their pride shall lead them to the snare.

Sounds of war begin: horns blowing, drums beating.

KING GBADEBO

Go, lead the troops, and fight with righteous heart.

The gods fight with us on this fated day.

They exit, moving into battle.

Act 

Act III, Scene II

Setting: The battlefield at dawn. The ground is muddy. Oyo's large army is arrayed against Gbadebo's smaller, but well-positioned forces.

Enter KING GBADEBO and COMMANDER IGE, watching the field.

COMMANDER IGE

They come, my King, in prideful, strong array!

Their numbers vastly swell our meager force.

We are undone!

KING GBADEBO

Nay, fear not, good Ige.

Bello's strength is his undoing, his vast force

Too slow, too burdened by the heavy mud.

Ogun the War God favors those with wisdom,

Not merely might. We use the terrain,

The traps are set, the hidden paths secured.

Watch how their pride shall lead them to the snare.

Sounds of war begin: horns blowing, drums beating.

KING GBADEBO

Go, lead the troops, and fight with righteous heart.

The gods fight with us on this fated day.

They exit, moving into battle.

Act IV, Scene I

Setting: The battlefield during the fight. Chaos and confusion reign. Oyo soldiers are struggling in the mud and falling into hidden traps.

Enter OBA BELLO, sword in hand, covered in mud and sweat. He is fighting bravely, but losing ground.

OBA BELLO

The mud! It holds us fast! This cursed earth!

Gbadebo fights with witchcraft, not with steel!

Where is my son? Where is the speaker's royal guard?

We are betrayed, undone by circumstance!

Enter COMMANDER IGE, leading a small charge against Bello.

COMMANDER IGE

Yield, Bello! Your pride has caused your fall!

The gods abandon you to your just fate!

Bello fights fiercely, but is overwhelmed. He falls, wounded.

Enter KING GBADEBO, surveying the turning tide of battle.

OBA BELLO

(Looking up at Gbadebo, spitting with defiance)

You! The "weak" king! You have outwitted the speaker!

Awoyemi was right. The speaker was a fool,

Blinded by his love of his own image.

KING GBADEBO

(Sadly, not in triumph)

The Odu speaks the truth, King Bello, always.

You saw the mirror, but despised its view.

Oyo is beaten, your reign is at its end.

The speaker brings peace, not pride, to this troubled land.

Bello attempts to rise and fight again, but his strength fails. He collapses, dead.

A great silence falls over the battlefield as the news spreads.

Act V, Scene I

Setting: The throne room in Oyo, now subdued. Weeks later. King Gbadebo sits upon the throne. Princess Tuminu and Baba Sanmi stand nearby. Prince Segun has been captured but spared.

Enter IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA, the priestess from the first play (a thematic crossover).

KING GBADEBO

The war is done. Oyo is now at peace.

But at a heavy cost, a king brought low by pride.

The speaker seeks to rule with justice and humility.

Priestess, speak the Odu for this new age.

IYALAWO KOFOWOROLA

The Odu Irosun-Meji appears, my King:

"The deep red dust brings both life and death."

Oyo has seen its death, and now its life begins anew.

The tragedy of Bello serves as lesson to all:

Honour the gods, consult the Oracle,

For man proposes, but the gods dispose.

KING GBADEBO

The speaker shall remember this. The speaker shall rule

With Ifá as his guide, the Odu as his law.

PRINCESS TUMINU

A new day dawns for Oyo, born from sorrow.

May peace forever reign where pride once ruled.

King Gbadebo bows his head in solemn acceptance. The court is quiet and reflective.

[THE END]