'"Leave the dead some room to dance," sings the Dirge-Man in Wole

Soyinka's beautiful play, A Dance of the Forests. But the living are not
willing to do so, and the play's dynamic is the conflict between the de
sire of the dead for judgment and the desire of the living to avoid it.
This conflict is manipulated by the will of Forest Father, who leads both
to a judgment they do not relish, while despairing that his labours will
effect any real improvemeitt in human conduct .. .
'The play opens with the arrival of two dead ancestors, thrusting their
heads up from the understreams. They had been summoned by the
living to attend "the gathering of the tribes" {an analogue of Nigerian
Independence?), but instead of being the idealized figures of the tribal
imagination they tum out to be full of ancient bitterness and resentment
and are shunned by everyone as "obscenities." However, Forest Father
selects four of the living and leads them away deep into the forest where,
in company with the dead couple, he forces them to confront their true
selves and the repetitive pattern of their weaknesses and crimes.' Times
Literary Supplement.

'The contemporary theater seems to have forgotten that it has its roots
in ritual and song, and it is only the rare emergence of a Lorca or a
Brecht-or a Wole Soyinka-that recreates an awareness of our depriva
tion.' African Forum.
'His play, The Road, presented in London during the Commonwealth
Festival last summer, was described by Penelope Gilliatt in The Observer
as "having done for our napping language what brigand dramatists from
Ireland have done for two centuries, booted it awake, rifled its pockets
and scattered the loot into the middle of next week." His novel, The
Interpreters, has been greeted by an American critic as the work of a new

James Joyce. Thanks to the Dakar Festival the two companies that he has
founded, the 1960 Masks and Orisun Theatre were seen for the first time
in full strength outside Nigeria in his play, Kongi's Harvest, and The
Road got the Dakar prize for drama.' New Society.

Other plays by Wole Soyinka

The Lion and the Jewel

The Road
Kongi's Harvest
Three Short Plays [The Swamp Dwellers,
The Trials of Brother Jero, The Strong Breed]

Wole Soyinka

A DANCE
of the

FORESTS
---

+---

Oxford University Press

Oxford University Press, Walton Street, Oxford oxz 6DP

LONDON

GLASGOW

DELHI BOMBAY
KUALA LUMPUR
NAIROBI

N W YORK

CALCUTTA
SINGAPORE

DAR ES SALAAM
MELBOURNE

TORONTO

MADRA S

KARACHI

HONG KONG

CAPE TOWN

TOKYO

SALISBURY

AUCKLAND

and associate companies in

BEIRUT

BERLIN IBADAN MEXICO CITY

Oxford University Press

1963

First published 1963

Seventh impression 1981

Cover designed by Taj Ahmed

P R INTED IN H O N G K O N G

A DANCE OF THE FORESTS

was first performed as part of the

Nigerian Independence Celebrations, October

1960.

----- +-----

Production was by the 1969 Masks, with the following cast:

E/izabetfl Osisioma

DEAD WOMAN

Taiye Ayorinde

DEAD MAN
ADENEBI

(and

'
POET S NOVICE

HISTORIAN

Ralph Opara
DEMOKE

Ycmi
ROLA

(and

ARONI

COURT POET

MADAME TORTOISE

OLD MAN
PHYSICIAN

. k Qze
. h
atru

DIRGE-MAN, SLAVEDEALER

nd

Srgun

CRIER

Ftim. Eu b11

(OBANEJ I)

Soforvote

Elow

Ga bona 1

Remi Ade/eye

ESHUORO

Dancers

.
ok nb o Qdun;o
-r

Afolabi Ajayi

roREST HEAD

Funmi/ayo Asekuu

)p

OGUN

So/a Rhodes

Adisa Ajetunm o bi

MURETE

Olga Adeniyi-Jones
AGBOREKO

HALF-CHILD

Lijadu

(and

Wo /e Siyanbo/a

COUNCILLOR

MATA KHARIBU

The Ezeagu District

Daucing Uuion
Other parts

The Compauy

Characters
'1"M Guuts ofHonour
DEAD WOMAN

masquerading

fOREST HEAD

as

Obaneji
fOREST ClllE R

DBAD MAN

THB QUESTIONER

'1"M Town Dwtllers

ADENEBI

Council 01'3tor

DEMOKB

to Eshuoro

THE TRIPLETS

OBANEJI

ROLA

THE INTERPRETER
JESTER

A Carver

A Courtesan
Elder of Scaled Lips

AGDOREKO

A Council Elder

OLD MAN

(father of Demoke)
A DIRGE-MAN
HIS ACOLYTB

THE HALf-(;HILD
THE ANTS
SPIIIlTS

of the

lllVERS,

'1"M Court of MA TA KHARmV

MADAME TORTOISE

(;OUNCILLORS

HIS NOVICE
MATA KHARIBU

DRUMMERS

'1"M Fortst Dwtllns

the Lame One

MURETB
ESHUORO
OGUN

(the Dead

A CAPTAIN
HIS WIFB

ARONI

(RoJa)

(Demoke)

COURT POET

BEATERS

PALM, DARKNESS,

etc.

tree-imp
a

wayward cult-spirit

par.on god of carvers

Man)

(the Dead Woman)

PHYSICIAN
HISTORIAN

(Adenebi)

SLAVE-DEALER
SOOTHSAYER

(Agboreko)

A PAGE, GUARDS, ATTENDANTS,

etc.

From ARONI, the Lame One, this testimony . . .

'I know who the Dead Ones are. They are the guests of the
Human Community who are neighbours to us of the Forest. It
is their Feast, the Gathering of the Tribes. Their councillors met
and said, Our forefathers must be present at this Feast. They
asked us for ancestors, for illustrious ancestors, and I said to
FOREST HEAD, let me answer their request. And I sent two spirits
of the restless dead ...
'THE DEAD MAN, who in his former life was a captain in the
army ofMata Kharibu, and the other, .. .THE DEAD WOMAN, in
former life, the captain's wife. Their choice was no accident. In
previous life they were linked in violence and blood with four of
the living generation. The most notorious of them is ROLA, now,
as before, a whore. And inevitably she has regained the name by

which they knew her centuries before-MADAME TORTOISE.

Another link of the two dead with the present is ADENEBI, the
Court Orator, oblivious to the real presence of the dead. In

previous life he was COURT HISTORIAN. And I must not forget

DEMOKE, the Carver. In the other life, he was a POET in the court
ofMata Kharibu. AGBOREKO, the Elder of Sealed Lips performed
the rites and made sacrifices to Forest Head. His trade was the
same in the court ofMata Kharibu. When the guests had broken

the surface of earth, I sat and watched what the living would do.
'They drove them out. So I took them under my wing. They
became my guests and the Forests consented to dance for them.
Forest ijead, the one who we call OBANEJI, invited Demoke,
Adenebi, and Rola to be present at the dance. They followed
him, unwillingly, but they had no choice.

'It was not as dignified a Dance as it should be.ESHUORO had

come howling for vengeance and full of machinations. His pro
fessed wrongs are part of the story.
'Eshuoro is the wayward flesh of ORo-Oro whose agency
serves much of the bestial human, whom they invoke for terror.
OGUN, they deify, for his playground is the battle field, but he
loves the anvil and protects all carvers, smiths, and all workers
in metal.
'For this Feast of the Human Community their Council also
resolved that a symbol of the great re-union be carved. Demoke,
son of the Old Man, was elected to carve it. Undoubtedly Ogun
possessed him for Demoke chose, unwisely, to carve Oro's
sacred tree, araba. Even this might have passed unnoticed by Oro
if Demoke had left araba's height undiminished. But Demoke is
a victim of giddiness and cannot gain araba' heights. He would
shorten the tree, but apprentice to him is one OREMOLE, a fol
lower of Oro \vho fought against this sacrilege to his god. And
Oremole won support with his mockery of the carver who was
tied to earth. The apprentice began to work above his master's
head; Demoke reached a hand and plucked him down . . . the
final link was complete-the Dance could proceed. '

PART ONE

An empty clearing in theforest. Suddenly the soil appears to be breaki11g

a11d the head of the Dead Woman pushes its way up. Some distance
from her, a11other head begins to appear, that of a mall. They both
come up slowly. The man is fat and bloated, wears a dated warrior's
outfit, now mouldy. The woman is pregnant. They come up, appear to
listen. They do not seem to see each other. Shortly after, Admebi e11ters.
He passes close to the Dead Man.
DEAD M A N :

Will you take my case, sir?

[Adenebi starts, stares, and runs off]

DEAD MAN : [shaking his head.] I thought we were expected.
[ They both seem to attempt to sense their surrounding.]
This is the place.
Unless of course I came up too soon. It is such a
long time and such a long way.
DEAD W O MA N : No one to meet me. I know this is the place.
DEAD W O MA N :

DEAD M A N :

[ Obaneji enters, passes close by the woman.]

D EAD WOMAN :

Will you take my case?

[Obaneji stops and looks thoughtfully at them. The Dead Ma11,

listening hard, goes quickly towards him. Obaneji withdraws,
looking back at the pair.]
D EAD WOMAN :

I thought he might. He considered it long

enough.

[Demoke enters. He is tearing along.]

D EAD W O MA N :
DEMOKE:

Will you take my case?

[stops.] Can't you see? I am in a hurry.

But you stopped. Will you not take my case?

When you see a man hurrying, he has got a load on
his back. Do you think I live emptily that I will take
another's cause for pay or mercy?

DEAD WOMAN :
DEMOK:

A D a n ce

And yet we'll meet there.

You say you know. I am merely on my business.

DEAD W O M A N :
D EMOKE:

[Goiug.]

Stop.Ilived here once.

That was before my time. [Going, stops again.]
Perhaps we will meet. But the reveller doesn't buy a cap
before he's invited.

DEAD W O M A N :
D EMOKE:

[Goes. The Dead Woman shakes her head sadly. Rola enters,
swi11giug her hips.]

Madam please, will you take my case?

Even before you ask it.
DEAD M A N : (gladly.] Will you?
ROLA : [who has gone nearer him.] Oh! [She backs away.] What is
the matter with you !
D EAD M A N : Don't ask.
ROLA : [stamps herfoot angrily.] What is the matter with you?
DEAD M A N : [writhiug.] Do I have to answer?
ROLA : You look disgusting. I suppose you are not even a man
at all.
DEAD MAN :

ROLA :

[ The dead man tums away. His headfallsforward on his chest.]

What a nerve you have. Do you think because you are

out of town you, in your condition, can stop me and talk
to me? Next time I'll get people to flog you. [She

ROLA :

goes off.]
[swaying unhappily.] 0 0 0

I am so ashamed.
To be found out like that, so soon, so soon. I am so ashamed.
DEAD WOMAN : Could it be I am not qualified after all? After a
hundred generations, it is rather difficult to know.
D EAD M A N : I am so ashamed, so ashamed . . .
DEAD WOMAN : I know they told me to come.Iknow I was
summoned. What is it to them from whom I descended
if that is why they shun me now? The world is big but the
dearl are bigger. We've been dying since the beginning;
DEAD MAN:

of t h e F ore s t s

the living try but the gap always widens. What is it to

them from whom I descended !
DEAD M A N : It was a mistake from the beginning. It is a long

way to travel the understreams to be present where the

living make merry. What is it to me? I want nothing more.
Nothing at all.

D EAD W O M A N : I have been made a fool. It is a hard thing to carry

this child for a hundred generations. And I thought . . .

when I was asked, I thought . . . here was a chance to
return the living to the living that I may sleep lighter.

(Sound ofbells, shouts, gunshotsfrom ifar. The Dead Ma11

listens.]
D EA D M A N : That is hardly the sound of welcome.
D EA D W O M A N : They would never have tempted me another

way. It is a hard thing to lie with the living in your

grave.

(still listening.] Anyway, I have forgotten the

procedure. I will only betray myself a stranger. (Goes.]

DEAD M A N :

(hears the noise.] Not the procession of welcome.

(Going.] I've been made a fool. Again. (Goes off, same
direction.]
(The noise, very much like that ofbeaters, comes quite near the
clearing. Gunshots are let off, bells rung, etc. It builds to a
crescendo and then dies offin the distance. Enter theJour who
passed by the dead pair-Rola, Adenebi, Obaneji, Demoke.]

D EAD W O M A N :

So I told her to get out. Get out and pack your things.
Think of it.Think of it yoursel What did she think I was?
I can't take anyone who happens to wander in, just because

ROLA :

she claims to be my auntie.My auntie!

A D ENEB I : It is rather difficult. I suppose one has to be firm. You

staJt your own family, expect to look after your wife and
children, lead-you know-a proper family life.
Privacy . . . very important . . . some measure of privacy.

A Dance
But how do you manage that when a lot of brats are

delivered at your door because their great grandparents

happen to have been neighbours of your great grand-uncles.
ROLA: This whole family business sickens me. Let everybody
lead their own lives. [Throws aw"Y her cigarette and takes
another.]
OBANEJI: It never used to be a problem.
ROLA: It is now.
OBANEJI: People like you made it so.
ROLA: Hm. I see we've got another of the good old days.
OBANEJI:

0n the contrary ...

ROLA: Never mind. You'd only waste your breath anyway.

[By now they've seated themselves on tree-trunks, stones, etc.]

ROLA: The whole sentimentality cloys in my face. That is why I

fled. The whole town reeks of it...The gathering of the

tribes! Do you know how many old and forgotten

relations came to celebrate?
OBANEJI: Now we've got it. They pushed you out of house.

IfI haven't got a

house, they can't stay with me.
DEMOKE: It's a good thmgin a way. I mean, as long as they don't
do it too often.I am sure none of them had ever been
down here before.
ROLA: 0 .. oh. The silent one has broken his vow. I suppose
you wouldn't like to come and live with a pack of dirty,
yelling grandmas and fleabitten children?
[Demoke remains silent.]
ROLA: I thought not.
DBIOKE: Don't jump to conclusions. !suddenly realized that I
R o LA: I've a mind to go back and set fire to it.

foolish to talk. When the cockerel decides it's fire

burning on his head. the only thmg to do is pour water on
it. [Obaneji smiles; Rola splutters and crushes her cigarette.]
OBANEJI" You are the carver, aren't you?
was

of t h e F ore s ts
D EMOKE:
O B ANEJI :

How did you know?

[laughs.] Look at your hands.

[Demoke has been shaping a piece ofwood with a stone.]

As the saying goes, if the red monkey only tumbled in
his parlour, no one would know he had any sons.
A D ENEB I : Are you the carver?
DEMOKE: I am.
A D ENEB I : So you are the man. Why aren't you in town? Today
is your day of triumph, sir. Every neck is creaking with
looking up at the totem.
ROLA : [wide-eyed.] Oh. So you did that?
O BANEJI : Unfortunately I have seen so much and I am rarely
impressed by anything. But that . . . it was the work of ten
generations. I think your hands are very old. You have the
fingers of the dead.
R O L A : [with unexpected solemnity.] And you did not even cut it
down. Climbing the king of trees and carving it as it stood
-1 think that was very brave.
O BANEJI : It is the kind of action that redeems mankind, don't
you think so?
R O L A : But how did you work on it? Did you use ladders and
nets or did you straddle it like a palm wine tapper?
D EMOKE: [with sudden irritation.] The knife doesn't carve its own
handle you know. There were others who lopped off the
branches and skinned the trunk. In fact it took quite a few
of us to do it. And one man fell to his death.
ROLA : Oh. Did you see it?
D EMOKE:

I was beneath him at the time. He fell right past me.

I could have touched him ifl wished.
A D ENEB I : You must have been glad it wasn't you. But I don't
see why you are sitting here. You should be in town
driliking in the admiration.
D EMOKE: For one thing, I did not know what it was all about.
D EMOKE:

A D att c e

The council met and decided that they wanted it done. In

secret. The tree was in a grove of Oro, so it was possible
to keep it hidden. Later I learnt it was meant for the
gathering of the tribes. When I finished it, the grove was
cleared of all the other trees, the bush was razed and a
motor road built right up to it. It looked different. It was
no longer my work. I fled from it.
O BANEJI : I merely fled from the noise.I suppose we all did.
ADENEB I : Speak for yoursel
OB AN EJI : I am sorry.Why are you here?
ADENEB I : You say you fled. I don't believe it. Especially you, a
carver. Have you no sense ofhistory?
ROLA : What history? Or doesn't it matter?
A D ENEB I : The accumulated heritage-that is what we are
celebrating. Mali.Chaka. Songhai.Glory.Empires. But
you cannot feel it, can you?
OBANEJI : But what made you leave it and come to this quiet?
ROLA : He got lost in the maze of purple and gold.
ADENEB I : I have a weak heart. Too much emotion upsets me.
This is the era of greatness. Unfortunately it is those
who cannot bear too much of it to whom the understanding
is given ...Wait.Listen.
[Distant noise ofbells, shouts, etc.]
They know what it is all about.I belong with them. And so
do you, if you'd only drop your superior airs and admit it.

[Re-enter the Dead Man and Dead Woman.]

[takes Demoke by the arm.] Those obscenities again. Let us

ROLA:

wander off by ourselves. The others can deal with them.

[rises. Goes towards them.] I must question them.
ROLA: [prdling him back.] What can you \Vant with them? Come
with me. What on earth is the matter ,.,-ith you?
A D ENEB I : [leaving quickly.] I came here to get away from the
excitement.
OBANEJI : Anyway, one begins to hear the revellers even from
DEMOKE:

of t h e F ore s t s

here. Come on carver, we'll go deeper into the forest.

[He takes Demoke by the hand and leads himfirmly away,

Rola in tow. The two creatures stop. They want to go after, but
the noise which they havejust heard is iucreasing. They turn
andgo out the way they came.]
*

[A tree trunk to one side ojthe scene. Murete, a tree-demon, is

about to come out of it when he hears some noise. Ducks back.
Enter Aroni, the one-legged. He looks as ifhe is going to hop
right past the tree when he stops sudd,mly andgives it
a stout wallop. The tree-demon yelps.]
ARONI :

So you are not afraid.

[Murete's head emerges warily.]

M URETE : No.When the leaves tremble it is no concern of

the roots.
You'Become more and more human every day. I suppose
you took that saying from your friend, Agboreko.
MURETE: He at least is amusing.And his language is full of colour.
ARONI : Yes, I can see where the colour has run and left ugly
patches on you.Be quiet! You are unreliable Murete.You
too meant to leave today. Don't lie.
M U RETE: I never denied it.
ARONI : Today, whenForest Head needed you all .You meant to
desert him.
MURETE: Today there happens to be much more fun among the
living.
ARONI : Among the living?Fool, are you dead then?
MURETE: No, but it is dead enough here. Even my home looks
dead. You see how the leaves have served someone for a
feast?
ARONI : So I noticed. I thought you did it yourself.
MURET E : What for?
ARONI : So I would think you have moved house.

ARONI :

10

A D a n ce

.MURET E : Well, frankly, that is why I stayed on. But I didn't

do it myself. Eshuoro came here and bit offthe top. Said

someone else-some woodcutter or something-had cut
off his o\vn, so he came to take it out on me.
ARO N I : Hm. So that's it. He is sulking somewhere. I was
wondering why we hadn't seen him for a while.
MURET E : I'll do him a mischief one of these days.
ARONI : Don't boast uselessly. Murete, I want you at the feast.
MURETE : The welcoming of the dead? No, I am going to drink
millet wine at the feast of the living.
ARO N I : Doesn't Agboreko bring you enough?
.MURET E : Only when he remembers. And then he brings too
much and the ants get the rest. I can take my own measure
at their feasting.
ARONI : Villain !
MURETE : These rites of the dead, I don't know why you take
them on.
A R O NI : Do not question. You have not done your share.
MURETE : You wanted wimesses. I guided four human beings
towards you.
ARONI : [lijting up a mightyfist.] You did what?
MURETE : Well, they passed by me and didn't miss their way. So
you might almost say I provided them.
ARONI : Come out. Come out at once.

[Muretegingerlypops up his head. Comes out, sheepish

impudent.]
ARO N I : [eyes him sternly.] I could force you to stay, you know that.
[Murete maintains a stubborn silence.]
A R O N I : You say you saw four human beings. Did you notice

anyone else?
MURETE : Which others?
ARO N I : The two dead. The ones they asked for, and no longer

want.

of t h e F ores t s

II

MURETE: I did not see them. Do you think I never go to

sleep?
ARONI: One more impertinence out of you and I'll tie you
backwards and leave you with your tongue licking the
earthworm's discharge at every fall of a leaf.
M URETE: It won't be the first time.
ARONI: Take care how you tempt me. I have some more
questions. If you answer them sanely, you may save your
skin. Now which of the townspeople did you talk to?
MURETE: The one who summoned me, naturally.
ARONI: [bellows.] And who was that?

MURBTE: [instinctively raises his armsfor protection.] Agboreko.

Their Elder of Sealed Lips.
ARONI: No one else?
MURETE: No one.
ARONI: Not even the OldMan, their Councillor?
MURETB: He never comes himself. Always he sends Agboreko.
ARONI: What did he complain of?
MURETE: How you tricked them. He said they asked Forest
Father for illustrious ancestors and you sent them accusers.
He wanted to know what lay in your mind.
ARONI: ... And did he?
MURETE: How could he? I don't know myself do I?
ARONI: You are a bad liar.And you also take bribes.
M URETE: I told him to ask you.
ARONI: You said four human beings passed by you. That means
you were drunk.
MURBTE: Why?
ARONI: Or else you had no eyes in your head. You should have
recognized the fourth.
MURBTB:,Maybe I was sleepy.
ARONI: B e quiet. When last did you see Ogun?
MURBTB: Not for a long time.

12

A D a n ce

ARONI: If he comes to you, let me know at once. One of the

three witnesses is his servant. I don't want interference from

him.
MURETE: What does that mean?
ARONI: Don't leave your house for the moment. I'll send word
when you may go on your debauchery.

[Exit Aroni. Murete makes a rude sign, re-enters the tree.

Enter Agboreko, Elder ofthe Sealed Lips. He wears a white
agbaJa and a white wrapper. Carries a clay potfull ofmillet
wine. A bulky, unhurried man.]
AGBOREKO: [sprinkles some ofthe wine at thefoot ofthe tree and
leaves the pot beside it.] It is I, Agboreko. Murete, it is

Agboreko that calls you. Ear that never shuts, eye that
never closes. Murete, Agboreko brings you the nnhappiness
of his children.
MURETE: Come back later. I have told you, the forest is big and
I pay no heed to the footsteps of the dead.
AGBOREKO: Murete, if the hunter loses his quarry, he looks up
to see where the vultures are circling. Proverb to bones
and silence.
MURETE: All right, all right. Come back later. I may have learnt
something then.

[Agboreko sighs, goes. Murete pops up, looks after him.]

MURETE: [mimicking.] Proverb to bones and silence. Somehow I

couldn't bear him today. That is Aroni' s influence. He
spoils everything.
.

[Reachesfor the pot and takes a deep draught. Enter Ogun who
holds the pot against his mouth andforces him to drink the lot at
once. Ogun then takes him and turns him quickly round and
round. Murete staggers about, quite drunk and unbalanced.]

OGUN: Drunk again, Murete?

MURETE: [hiccups. Tries to speak but waffies.]
OGUN: The four humans-which way did they go?

of t h e F ores t s
MURETE:

13

(points.]

O GUN : How recently?

M URETE : How . . . how?
O GUN : Was it a long time?

[Murete picks up a leaf Lets it fall. Takes a twig and breaks it

offpiece by piece, giggling all the while. Ogun impatiently slaps
offhis hand.]

O G U N : You know Demoke, servant of Ogun. Demoke the

worker of iron and of wood. Was he among the four?

MURETE:

[drunkenly.] You.

O G U N : Aroni bade me ask you. He says, was the carver among

them? Demoke, the servant of Ogun.

M URETE: You . . . Ogun . . . you . . . Ogun.

o G UN : No you drunkard. Ogun is nowhere here. Aroni sent me.

He spoke to you . . . recently.

M URETE : Yes, yes, Aroni.
O G UN AndEshuoro, did he speak to you?

[wildlyflailing.] Eshuoro, you bit off my shelter. I'll

bite your head off. I'll bite your head off .. .

M URETE:

O GUN : Gently ... gently ...of course you'll bite my head off.

Don't forget, you are no friencltoEshuoro, are you . . .?

[baring his teeth.] I'll bite off yours .. . come here ... just

M URET:a:

you come here . .. is it my affair if the woodcutter lopped

off your big top.You take up too much room anyway . . .
who do you think you are?

[Aims a wild blow at Ogun. He ducks. Murete passes out.]

O GUN : [examining him.] Mm.Mm. [Props him up against the tree.]
He should bear no love for Eshuoro.It is not much but it is
something. LetEshuoro strip a few more dwellings naked
and he won't have a friend at the welcome. Demoke the
catyer, my friend and servant, it was my axe you drove
into araba, pride among the trees ofEshuoro. It was my
iron that cicatrized his naked skin-I'll not forget you

A D a nce

14Demoke. I shall not forget.

[Re-enter Oba11eji, Demoke, Adenebi and Rola.]

DEMOKE : They are gone.

OBANEJI : We

will follow them if you like.

ROLA : No. Demoke, stay here.

think they are the people your father

spoke of?
D B!OKE : I do. Anyway, what does it matter? I still don't know
what brought me here.
ADENE B I : Well, don't be over-anxious to find out. At least not
from those .. .
DEMOKE : I know we are bcund to meet somewhere.
ADENE BI : For heaven's sake let's change the subject.
ROLA : For once I agree with you.
D B!OKE: The man who fell to his death-from the tree-I
wonder ifhe was the other one . ..
ROU.: Dressed like that? For God's sake .. .
ADENI B I : I'm going back if you don't stop this.
OBANEJI : But you said you thought they were the ones
Agboreko invoked-at your father's request.
DEMOKE : They say Aroni has taken control. That is when the
guilty become afraid.
ROLA : Can't we talk of something else? You . ..you haven't
told us why you came. What are you hiding?
OBAKEJI : No crime, if that's what you mean.Like your carver
here, I was thrown out by the nose.I know too much .. .
about people .. . far too much. When I saw them all,
actually rejoicing-that much is true at least-most of
them did experience joy .. . but you see . . . when they
laughed, I was looking dO\vn their throats.
ROLA : And what did you see?
OBANEJI : Only what I know already
RO LA : Hm. If it isn't the sage hirnsel

OB ANEJI : You really

of t h e F orests

15

OBANEJI: Don't misunderstand me. It is just that I work as a

filing clerk for the Courts. Senior clerk, mind you. I know
about people even before I've met them. Know their
whole history sometimes. And against my will, I find that
all the time, I am guessing which name belongs to who.
You don't know how unnerving that can be, especially
when one is so often right.
ROLA: A sort of keeper of the nation's secrets 'eh? What a chance!
But I suppose you don't much enjoy it. You only pry
against your will.
ADENEBI: (hurriedly.] Look, somehow we all seem to be keeping
together. So why don't we forget all about unpleasantness?
ROLA: (coyly at Demoke.] Do you think I was being unpleasant?
Anyway, I think people ought to be more honest about
their work. I know I would enjoy that sort of thing.
OBANEJI: To be quite honest, I do enjoy some of it. I would
never deny that it had its enjoyable side. You know, the
lighter side. As I said, we collect records of the most peculiar
things. You'd never guess how varied is our collection.
ROLA: I know what I would collect mostly.
OBANEJI: Wealthy men?
ROLA: You are turning nasty.
OBANEJI: On the contrary, you suggested we should be more
honest towards each other. And I intend to try it out.
Now, I for instance. My favourite is motor lorries. You
know, passenger lorries. I have a passion for them.
ROLA: What a choice!
OBANEJI: Take one lorry I was examining only yesterday-the
records that is-now wait a minute .. . what was the name
of it again? I never can remember the number . . . oh yes . . .
The Chimney of Ereko.
ADENEBI: That is not its real name.
OBANEJI: Oh, you know it too?

A D a ne

16

All the passenger lorries pass through

our hands in the council. We perform all the formalities.
The name of this one is 'God My Saviour'.
O B A N EJI : Yes, that is the name painted on it. But we prefer to
call our collection, human or vehicular, by the names by
which they are generally known. This one, the Chimney
of Ereko. What a lorry! What a record it has. You put it
off the road very recently, didn't you?
ADEN EB I : We had to. It was smoking like a perpetual volcano.
OBANEJI : Pity. I was very fond of it.Chimney of Ereko. lt had
survived eight serious crashes, apart from falling in a pit
two or three times. Yes, it was something of an old warrio
I grew a real affection for it.
A D EN EB I : If you like that sort of thing.
OBANEJI : Oh yes I do. Now take another casebook which we
closed only yesterday. Another passenger lorry. They call
it the Incinerator.
A D EN EB I : Never heard the name.
O BA NEJI : You couldn't have. It got that name only yesterday
A D EN EB I : Of course I do.

after what happened.

ROLA : What?
O B A N EJI : Before I tell you, I must let you know the history of

the lorry. When it was built, someone looked at it, and

decided that it would only take forty men. But the owner
took it to the council . . . now, my friend, this is somethi.nE
for you to investigate. One of your office workers took a
bribe. A real substanti l bribe. And he changed the capacit:
to seventy.

D EMOKE : Seventy!
O DANEJI : Yes. Seventy. From forty.
ROLA: That's nearly twice.
OBANEJ I : You said it-nearly twice. Now what do you think

would happen if such a trap suddenly caught fire?

of t h e F orest s
DEMOKE: When?
ROLA: [shuts her eyes tightly.] No, no, no, no . .

17

OBANEJI: Yesterday.That is why they have called it the

Incinerator since yesterday. Of the seventy people in it,
five escaped.It overturned you see, and the body was built
of wood. .. . Dry and brittle in the Harmattan season too.
They were all on their way here-to the gathering of the
tribes.

[ There is a short silence.]

ADENEBI: Seventy did you say?

OBANEJI: Excepting five. Only five escaped.

ADENEBI: Seventy.It couldn't have been one of ours.
OBANEJI: Mr. Adenebi.What office do you hold in the council?
ADENEm:

[angrily.] What do you imply?

OBANEJ 1: You misunderstand me. I only meant, are you in a

position to find out something for me?

ADENEB!: [warily.] That depends. I am only the official Orator to

the Council, but . . .
OBANEJI: You do wield some authority.
ADENEBI: Yes. Certainly.
OBANEJI: You see, I want to close my files on this particular
lorry-the Incinerator.And my records won't be complete
unless I have the name of the man who did it-you know,
the one who took the bribe. Do you think you can help
me there?

ADENEBI: Since you are so clever and so knowledgeable, why

don't you find that out yourself?
OBANEJI: Please . . . it is only for the sake of records . . .

ADENEBI: Then to hell with your records.Have you no feeling

for those who died? Are you just an insensitive, inhuman
block?
OBANEJI: I didn't kill them. And anyway, we have our different
views. The world must go on. After all, what are a mere

18

A D a n ce

sixty-five souls burnt t o death? Nothing. Your bribe-taker

was only a small-time murderer; he wasn't even cold
blooded. He doesn't really interest me very much. I shall
be writing his name in small print.
ROLA: He deserves to be hanged.
OBANEJI: Now that 's a bloodthirsty woman. No, you cannot
really punish the man. After all, how was he to foresee
the consequences of his actions? How was he to know that
in two months from the deed, the lorry would hit another,
overturn completely, and be set on fire?
ROLA: [fiercely.] You seem to relish talking about it.
OBANEJI: Oh no.I have seen so much.It simply doesn't impress
me, that's all.

[ There is a short silence.]

DEMOKE: I work with fire. Carving and smelting. Sometimes I

merely trace patterns on wood.With fire. I live by the
forge and often hold the cinders in my hands. So you see I
am not afraid of fire. But I wish to be saved from death by
burning.Living, I would rather not watch my body
dissolve like alloy. There must be happier deaths.
ROLA: Like what?
OBANEJI: Yes, go on.Tell us. What kind of death would you
prefer?
DEMOKE: A fall from a great height.

OBANEJI: (sharply.] Why?

DEMOKE: Why?
OBANEJI: Yes, why? Why should you prefer to fall?
DEMOKE: Because I know what it is. I have seen it happen.
Didn't I tell you about my apprentice
OBANEJI: Yes, your apprentice.But what has that to do with
you?
DEMOKE: I watched it. I took part in it. There is nothing ignoble
in a fall from that height. The wind cleaned him as he fell.
. .

of t h e F o r e s t s

19

And it goes further. I mean, for me, it goes further.

Perhaps it is because I am a slave to heights. You see, I can
go so far so high, but one step further than that and I am
seized with dizziness. Where my hands are burning to
work, where my hands are trembling to mould, my body
will not take me. Is that not a lack of fulfilment? Ifi can
pull my body up, further than it will go, I would willingly
fall to my death after.
ROLA: That doesn't make sense.

DEMOKE: Oh yes it does. For me it does.

OBANEJI: Hm. And our friend the Orator to the Council . . .

what sort of death shall we pray that you meet with?

ADENEBI: [furiously.] No, you tell us. How would you like to be
killed?

OBANEJI: Oh. I shall have to think a minute or two over that . . .

Let me see . ...
ROLA: Why don't you confess it? You are the type who would
rather die in your bed. You look it.
OBANEJI: You say that as if one should be ashamed of it.

ROLA: [contemptuously.] No. I suppose there are things which do

crawl into a hole to die.

OBANEJI: [laughs softly.] And you? Since the Orator won't tell
us his death-wish, perhaps you will.
ROLA: [throws her head back and laughs.] So you'd like to know.
Are you quite sure that you would like to know?
OBANEJI: I asked you, didn't I?

[Rola swings round suddenly, embraces him and tries to kiss him.]

OBANEJI: [struggling.] Please . . . please . .. let me go.

ROLA: Oh no. If you think I amjust pretending, go ahead and

kill me right now.You'll see I don't mind at all.Of course,

ifi was really going to die, I would go further than that.

[Obaneji eventually succeeds in throwing her off; Rola loses her

balance andfalls. Adenebi runs to assist her to get up.)

A D a nce

20

ROLA: Pig! Pig!

ADENBBI: That was quite wmecessary. What sort of a man do

you call yourself anyway?
ROLA: [struggling with Adenebi.] Let me get at him.I've scratched
out duller eyes than yours.

OBANEJI: I am sorry. Believe me, I didn't mean to hurt you.

ROLA: Of course you didn't.You are just naturally uncouth. Pig!
OBANEJI: Again I apologize. But please keep your distance in
'
future.I have a particular aversion to being mauled by
women.

ROLA: [furiously.] I suppose you weren't born by one. Filth! You

should be back among your moths and dust you nosy
conceited prig.Who do you think you are anyway,
looking perpetually smug and pushing people around?
ADENE:In: I hope you like what you've started. After all you asked
the question. You should not complain if you get an
unexpected answer.
OBANEJI: You are wrong there. It was not unexpected.It was
only the method of reply for which I wasn't prepared.
ROLA: [looks at him with withering contempt.] No wonder you were
not prepared. I don't suppose you have ever in your life
dared to hold a woman in your arms ...
OBANEJ1: Please .. . please . . . let us change the subject.
ROLA: You started it.And anyway who are you to think that we
will only talk of whatever happens to please you? I am
getting sick of the way you step back when it seems you
are about to get splashed, especially as you swing your feet
about as much as you do . . .
OBANEJI: Once again, I am sorry. But please don't . . .
ROLA: [teasing, quite bitchily, makes a suddm dart and pulls at his

beard.]

He'll die in his bed but he'll die alone

He'll sleep in his bed but he'll sleep alone

of t h e F o r e s t s

21

He'll wake in the morning and he'll eat alone

So good up in heaven he sang praises alone.
OBANEJI: I beg you not to impress yourself on me so hard.I have
told you, recognition is the curse I carry with me. I don't
want to know any more.I thought I was safe with you.
I thought that you all wanted to be quiet.
DEMOKE: Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time . . .

ROLA: Shut up. It is he who ought to tell us a story. Let him tell us

of his life.How came it he was born not fully formed?

ADENEBI: Really, this is too much. A lady shouldn't . . .
OBANEJI: I know you already.But do you have to betray yourself
to these people?
ROLA: Don't you dare suggest you know me. Whatever it is
you keep in your filthy records, I am not in them.I am not
a criminal. I don't work in the council and I never drove
your Incinerator. I have never been to court in all my life.
OBANEJI: Let me beg you to be quiet then.
ROLA: There is the graveyard. Find yourself a graveyard if you
want some silence.
OBANEJI: I don't think that would be any better than here. Isn't
the graveyard filled with your lovers?
ROLA: What!

[ There is sileuce.]

ADENEBI: Now, really . . .

OBANEJI: Well, look at her. Doesn't she look the type who
would drive men to madness and self-destruction!
ROLA: What do you mean? Say it outright. What do you mean?
ODANEJI: Nothing. I merely hoped that would keep you silent.
ROLA: You have a filthy mind.Coward! Why don't you say
what is in your mind?
OBANEJl: I beg you to let us change this sub ect.

ROLA: Out with it! I have nothing to be ashamed of. Because

your ears are stuck to gossip, you throw out perpetual

22

A D a n ce

feelers for muck.Do you think I do not know what you

meant?
DEMOKE: Why? Why? Why? The man said nothlng. Only a
feeble effort to be cruel. Why do you take it to heart?
ROLA: Shut up or I'll get those who will tear the skin off your
back. You and your complacent friend.
DEMOKE: [suddenly.] Madame Tortoise! Blind.Blind.[Hitting

himself on the forehead.] Madame Tortoise, that is who you

are!

[Rola stands stock-still, her face drained ofexpression.]

OBANEJI: [quietly.] You've been begging for a stone to hit you

on the head. Couldn't you be quiet?
ROLA: [breaking down.] What have I done to you? What have I
ever done to you?

[She falls on her knees, still sobbing.]

ADENEBI: Do you know what you have just said? You had better
be sure it is true.
OBANEJI: He seems to know her. I thought she was tougher.
DEMOKE: Madame Tortoise.Just think . . . I have been with her
all day ...
ROLA: [raises her head suddenly.] Isn't that enough? Have you all
suddenly earned the right to stare at me as ifl was leprous?
You want me to wallow in self-disgust. Well, I won't.
I wasn't made the way you thlnk women are.
ADENEBI: What! No shame.No shame at all.
DEMOKE: Please, don't upset yourself-not over him.
ROLA: Ho. You are very kind, are you not? You think you have
enough for yourself that you can spare me some pity.
Well keep it. Keep it. Just what is it you all accuse me of?
OBANEJI: [placati11gly.] Nothlng. Nothlng.
ADENEBI: Nothing? Do you call that nothing? Two lovers in
the graveyard. And the sordidness of it. The whole horrible
scandal. How did I ever get in your company?

of t h e Fo r e s t s

23

ROLA: Go. It is people like you . .. Psh! Since when did I ever
begin to waste a glance on fools. You know that, I hope.
You are a fool. A foolish man. The word has meaning
when I look at you. I wouldn't be sorry to see you under
the ground, except that it wouldn't be because you were
my lover.
ADENEBI: Her brazenness. Do you see? She is utterly unrepentant!
ROLA: People like you beg to be shaven clean on the skull.

Except that I couldn't bear to touch you.

DEMOKE: I carved something to you. Of course I didn't know
you then, I mean, I had never met you.But from what I
heard, you were so . ..
ADENEBI: Bestial. Yes, just the sort of thing you would carve,
isn't it? Like your totem. Bestial it was. Utterly bestial.

DEMOKE: Actually, that is what I mean. Madame Tortoise is the

totem-most of it anyway. In fact, you might almost say
she dominated my thoughts-she, and something else.
About equally.
ADENEBI: Something equally revolting I am sure.
DEMOKE: [simply.] On no.Equally . . . Anyway, it had to do
with me.

[Adenebi sngers.]
OBANEJI: One moment. I thought I heard you say, earlier on,
that this work was quite remarkable.
ADENEBI: That didn't mean I thought it even worth the trouble.
And anyway, we had only met. I wanted to see if he was
at all fooled by his own monstrosity.
ROLA: You see.Men like that, who can pity them? Do they not
beg that their lives be wrung out of them? That their heads
be turned inside out?
ADENEB!.: Are you making excuses?
ROLA: Not to you. Not to anyone. I owe all that happened to
my nature.I regret nothing. They were fools, fools to

A D a11 cc
think they were something better than ...the other men.
My other men.
ADENEBI: Men! Some of them were hardly grown up. We
heard you liked them yow1g, really yotmg.
ROLA:

I regret nothing.You men are conceited fools. Nothing

was ever done on my account.Nothing. What you do is

boost yourselves all the time. By every action. When that
one killed the other, was it on my account? When he
killed himself, could he claim that he did it for me? He was
only big with himself, so leave me out of it.

ADENEBI: I suppose you didn't really run merely because you

were beset by your relations. They simply didn't leave you
room to entertain your lovers. And this could have been a
profitable season. A generous season.
ROLA: Draw your filthy conclusions. I only know I am master
of my fate.I have turned my training to good accowlt. I
am wealthy, and I know where my wealth came from.
ADENEB!: Oh yes, you ruined countless. Young and old. Old,
peaceful ones who had never even set eyes on you; who
simply did not know what their son was up to; didn't
know he was draining the home away-for you.
ROLA: Don't go on or you'll make me cry.Fool! \Vhat is it to

me? \Vhen your business men ruin the lesser ones, do you
go crying to them? I also have no pity for cl1e one who
invested foolishly.hwestors, that is all they ever were
to me.
OBANEJI:

'
[nodding, ll'ith a.faillfJarau ay smile.] Madame Tortoise ...

Madame Tortoise ...Do you realize, I even knew your

ancestors.I knew .. .
ROLA: And you, I suppose you have no ancestors. You are merely

the dust that came off a moth's wing.

[Obanrji appears to be shut 11p by this. Thrrc is m1

uncomfortable silence.]

of t h e Fo r e s t s

25

You don't look one bit similar to your other face-you

know, the one that rises from legends. That was the one I
thought o I thought of you together, but .. . you are not
the same. Anyway, you can have a look at my totem and
tell me. I needed some continuity and you provided it
You do sec why, don't you? I take it you do know of the
legendary Madame Tortoise.
ROLA: [subdued.] No. What was she?
DEMOKE: [shrugs.] A woman.
ADENEBI: [rises.] I think I must leave your company. He talks like
a lost lunatic and you are worse than the devil. I don't want .
to be involved in your types.
DEMOKE:

[Goes off Rushes back immediately andgoes offthe opposite

way. The Dead Pair enter.]

OBANEJI:

Perhaps we ought to go too.

[Demoke rises sharply. Goes to the Dead Man.]

Are you the one who fell from the tree?
Use your eyes. He carmot be. Come away for heaven's
sake.
DEMOKE: Did you meet? Does he accuse me?
DEAD MAN: I always did want to come here. This is my home. I
have always yearned to come back. Over there, nothing
held me.I owned nothing, had no desire to. But the dark
trees and the thick earth drew me. When I died, I fell into
the Wlderstreams, and the great summons found me ready.
I travelled the Wlderstreams beneath the great ocean; I
travelled the understreams beneath the great seas. I flowed
through the hardened crust of this oldest of the original
vomits afForestFather . . .
DEMOKE: And did you meet Oremole the bonded carver? Does
he ccuse me?
OBANEJI: Must you be in such haste? Everything will come to
you sooner or later.
DEMOKE:
ROLA:

A Dan c e

26
DEAD MAN: [jerks

up suddenly.] Like palsy. How suddenly you

shake with violence !

DEAD WOMAN: \Vhat is this? The one who was to take my case
has he sent another down? Into the pit?
DEAD MAN: What have they thought that it fills the air so
suddenly with stench?
DEAD WOMAN: A hundred generations has made no difference.
I was a fool to come.
DEAD MAN: It is death you reek o Now I know what the smell is.
DEMOKE: I did . ..I asked you, did he accuse me?
DEAD WOMAN: I said the living would save me. What fmgers are

these whom I begged to let down my child, gently? What

have you thought to push me further down the pit? [Goes.]
DEAD MAN: May you be cursed again.May you be cursed again.

[Goes.]

DEMOKE: I pushed him. I pushed him down.

ROLA:Who?
DEMOKE: He climbed higher and I pushed him down. The one

who did not fall from the tree. Apprentice to my craft, till I
plunged him into hell.
OBANEJI: Save it. Save it for later.
ROLA: Leave him alone.What is it all to you?
OBANEJI: He needn't speak.Why does he? Why do you all? I
want nothing, asked nothing.
DEMOKE: Now, now, and from his nest, I will again
Pluck him, Oremole servant of Oro, and fling him,
Screaming downwards into hell.
OBANEJI: Hatred. Pride.Blindness. Envy. Was it envy?
DEMOKE: Envy, but not from prowess of his adze.
The world knew of Demoke, son and son to carvers;
Master of wood, shaper of iron, servant of Ogun,
Slave, alas, to height, and the tapered end
Of the silk-cotton tree.Oremole

of t h e F o r e s t s
My bonded man, whetted the blades,
Lit the fires to forge Demoke's tools.
Strong he was; he whirled the crooked wheel
When Oro puffed himself, Oro who was born
With a pebble in his throat, and frightens children
Begging for their tiny hands to pull it out.
Oremole was the cat by night. The cloth that hangs
Above tall branches, Oremole left it there.
Nimble like a snake, he had no foot to trip him.
And now he sat above my head, carving at the head
While I crouched below him, nibbling hairs
Off the chest of araba, king among the trees.
So far could I climb, one reach higher
And the world was beaten like an egg and I

Clasped the tree-hulk like a lover.

Thrice I said I'll cut it down, thread it,

Stride it prostrate, mould and master araba

Below the knee, shave and scrape him clean

On the head. But thrice Oremole, slave,
Server toEshuoro laughed! 'Let me anoint
The head, and do you, my master, trim the bulge
Of his great bottom.' The squirrel who dances on
A broken branch, must watch whose jaws are open
Down below. Thrice I said I would behead it
Where my feet would go no further. Thrice
Oremole, slave, fawner on Eshuoro laughed.
'No one reduces Oro's height, while I serve
The wind. Watch Oremole ride on Aja's head,
And when I sift the dust, master, gather it
Below.' The water-pot, swept up suddenly
Boasted, Aja is my horse.Has it got wings
Or is it not made of clay? I plucked him down!
Demoke's head is no woman's cloth, spread

27

28

A
To receive wood shavings from a carpenter.
Down, down I plucked him, screaming on Oro.
Before he made hard obeisance to his earth,
My axe was executioner at Oro's neck. Alone,
Alone I cut the strands that mocked me, till head
And boastful slave lay side by side, and I
Demoke, sat on the shoulders of the tree,
My spirit set free and singing, my hands,

My father's hands possessed by demons of blood

And I carved three days and nights till tools
Were blunted, and these hands, my father's hands
Swelled big as the tree-trunk. Down I came
But Ogun touched me at the forge, and I slept

Weary at his feet.

'
MAN s VOICE:

[quite near.] Demoke !

OBANEJ I: Who was that?

VOICE: Demoke !

OBANEJ I: Do you know that voice?

D EMOKE: My father's.

OBANEJI: Quickly then. This way. It came from here.

[He leads them in the wrong direction.

Enter Ogun. Rapidly.]

OGUN: Once again, he foiled me. Forest Father,

Deeper still you lead my ward into your

Domain, where I cannot follow. To stay him,
I assumed his father's voice, who follows now
Hard upon my heels. I'll not desert him.
The crime, if crime it was, lies on my head.
My instrument he was, plucking out Oremole

Worshipper of Oro, slayer of my disciples.

I set his hand to the act. I killed
The proud one, who would not bow araba' s head
When the gifted hands ofDemoke, son and son

D a tt ce

of t h e F o r e s t s

29

To carvers would pass his spirit into wood.

Would master wood with iron, fibre with fire !

Forest Father, masqueradin as a human,

Bringing them to judgement, I'll not desert

My servant. I am no less son to you than others

And if my voice is not heard, my hand must
Be felt.

[ The beaters' 11oise comes over, i11creasing during Ogun's

speech. Hegoes offas the Old Man ,followed by two ofthe
councillors, entm, surrounded by the whole chaos ofbeaters.]

OLD MAN: You are sure it wasn't my son Demoke?

COUNCILLOR: Very sure. I am absolutely certain.

OLD MAN: Anyway, you say the person was heading for

home.

COUNCILLOR: It was Adenebi, the Court Orator. I couldn't

mistake him.

.
OLD MAN: Never mind. I'm only worried because he went into

hiding. But I don't think he would wander into the forest.

I begged him not to.

[Adenebi enters.]

COUNCILLOR: That's the man himsel I thought I saw you

returning home.

ADENEBI: So I was. And then I heard all the commotion. And I

met one of your men who said you were hunting some

shady characters.

oLD MAN: And so we are.

ADENEBI : What are they like?

OLD MAN: I don't know. I haven't seen them.

ADENEBI: But in that case . . .

OLD MAN: Look here, we haven't got nets or cages, so you can

see yve are not really trying to capture them. If we can

drive them away from here, it will be sufficient. [ To the

Councillor.] Tell the men to scatter. They are not covering

30

'

A Dan c e

sufficient ground. They must move wider. I can't hear

them. I cannot hear them. They must make a lot more
no1se.
ADENEBI: Won't they get away before you . . .

OLD MAN: My friend, we want them to go ; to go before we get

there, wherever there is. And if the guest won't go quietly,
we must shout out the price offood.
ADENEBI: What guest?
OLD MAN: What guest? Oh, go, go !
ADENEBI: I'm sorry, but if you will talk in riddles . . . Talking
about guests, what about the half dozen or so special guests
whom we were supposed to expect.
OLD MAN : [very restlessly.] They are the very people we are
trying to drive off.
ADENEBI: What ! What kind of welcome is that?

OLD MAN: Look. Go on, look. Do I seem mad?

ADENEBI: No.
OLD MAN: Well, believe me when I tell you that everything has
misfired. These people who have come to claim our
hospitality do not wish us well. We were sent the wrong
people. We asked for statesmen and we were sent
executioners.

[One ofthe crowd enters.]

ADENEBI: I don't understand. I thought we left it all to you.

OLD MAN: Ah, petrol. You, get me one ofthe councillors.
[ The man goes.] I have just remembered. They cannot stand
'
the smell of petrol.

[Councillor enters.]

Get some petrol. Pour it all over the forest. They canno t
stand the smell.
CO UNCILLOR: Baba, don't you think that . . .
OLD M A N : Now what am I thinking of? I must be getting tired.
No sensible man burns the house to cook a little yam. I

of t h e F o r e s t s

31

know what I want. Remember the old decrepit wagon we

put off the road?

c o uNCILLOR: Oh. The Chimney ofEreko ?

OLD MAN: That's the one. Tell the owner it is back on the road

in the forest, that is. Get him to drive it right through here
and he can let it smoke as much as he likes. Fill up his tank
and charge it to the council.

COUNCILLOR: Baba, no vehicle could move a foot in this bush.

OLD MAN: The Chimney can. He's survived at least halfa dozen

head-on crashes ; not to mention the number of houses he's

knocked down for being too near the street. Don't worry,
it will tame thisjungle.

[ The councillorgoes.]

ADENEBI: Sir, will you kindly explain what is happening?

[not listening.] Yes, yes, the Chimney ought to do it.

When that monster travels at anything over two miles

OLD MAN:

per hour you can't see the world for smoke or smell a
latrine for petrol fumes. If any ghost can survive it, then
there is no power that can help me.

AD ENEBI: Sir, I am still waiting for some sort of explanation. I

know I am not dreaming.

OLD MAN: What is the matter with you? [Looks up

seeing himfor thefirst time.]

as ifhe is

ADENEBI : Nothing I hope. But such a lot seems to be happening.

Just tell me one thing. Did I or did I not hear aright when
you said that all this was to drive off the very people we had
invited to be our guests?

OLD MAN: Yes.

ADENEBI: I beg your pardon sir. Did you say 'Yes'?

OLD MAN: Yes, yes, yes !

ADENEBI.: But . . . but . . . this is madness.

OLD MAN : Why? Was it or was it not you who spoke in favour

of my idea in the council? Did you not threaten to finance

32

A Dan c e

the whole programme yourself if the council tumed it

down?
ADEN E B I : Certainly I did. It fell to me as official Orator.
O LD M A N : Well then, are you backing out now?
A DENEB I : [completelyflabbergasted.] But . . . I don't see how . . .
wait a minute. Let me understand where I am. I remember
what I said, what we promised to do. An occasion such as
the gathering of the tribes-a great thing . . . it would
happen only once in several lifetimes . . . only once in
centuries ofhistory. It is a whole historical epoch in itself.
We resolved to carve a totem, a totem that would reach
to the sky.
OLD M A N : Yes. My son carved it.
ADENED I : Your son? Was that your son?
OLD MAN : Yes, don't look so surprised. We come from a long
line of carvers.
A DENEB I : Oh. Well, in addition I said; . . . no, you said, and I
took it up, that we must bring home the descendants of our
great forebears. Find them. Find the scattered sons of our
proud ancestors. The builders of empires. The descendants
of our great nobility. Find them. Bring them here. If they
are half-way across the world, trace them. If they are in
hell, ransom them. Let them symbolize all that is noble in
our nation. Let them be our historical link for the season
of rejoicing. Warriors. Sages. Conquerors. Builders.
Philosophers. Mystics. Let us assemble them round the

totem of the nation and we ill drink from their resurrected

glory.
OLD M A N : Yes. It was a fme speech. But control, at some
point was lost to our enemies. The guests we were sent are
slaves and lackeys. They have only come to undermine our
strength. To preach to us how ignoble we are. They are
disgruntled creatures who have come to accuse their

of t h e F o r e s t s

33

superiors as if this were a court oflaw. We have courts

for the oppressed. Let them go somewhere else.
ADENEBI: I see. I had thought how splendid it would all be.
Purple robes. White horses dressed in gold. Processions
through the toVv-n with communion and service around
our symbol . . . by the way, I really ought to tell you how
disappointed I was with your son's handiwork. Don't you
think it was rather pagan? I should have thought that
something more in keeping with our progress would be
more appropriate.
OLD MAN: You should have told him.
ADENEB I : I never saw it till it was finished. In fact I saw the

carver himself-your son-only today. But I didn't have

time to tell him . . .
OLD MAN: Did you say you saw him? When?
ADENEBI: Not very long ago. There were two other people at

the time. Strange people.

OLD MAN:

[thoughifully.] I fear for him. I greatly fear for him.

ADENEBI : Why? Is he unwell? He seemed quite healthy when

we . . .
OLD MAN: No, no. It is nothing. Forget I spoke.

[Enter the Councillor.]

OLD MAN: Will he do it?

COUNCILLOR: Yes. He's on his way.

[Angrily.] Slaves !
Can't they forget they once had lives of their own? How
dare they pester the living with the petty miseries of their
lives !
ADENEBI : Mali. Songhai. Perhaps a descendant of the great
Lisabi. Zimbabwe. Maybe the legendary PresterJohn
himsel . . . I was thinking of heroes like they.
oLD MAN: Isn't it time Agboreko wa.s back? If he has learnt
nothing by now then the whole Forest is against us.

OLD MAN: I hope he kills them all over again.

A D a n ce

34

couNCILLOR : He went to consult Murete of the Trees.

OLD MAN : Hm. It shows how helpless we are. Murete, the most

unreliable of the tree demons, but he is the only one who

will even respond when he is called. It serves me right.
The cricket didn't know he was well off until he asked the
sparrow to admire his hole.
ADENEBI: Mali. Songhai. Lisabi. PresterJohn . . . but who did
we get?
OLD MAN : Nonentities without a doubt. It is only the cockroach
who shouts vanity when the chicken struts.
AGBOREKO : [entering.] Proverb to bones and silence.
OLD MAN: Agboreko. At last.
AGBOREKO : I heard them again.
OLD MAN : Was there some change?
AGBOREKO: They notice nothing. They are so full of themselves
and their grievances. The worst possible type to deal with.
OLD MAN : They won't go among the people will they?
AGBOREKO: It won't be necessary. Aroni has taken them under
his wing. And anyway, they have met one of their old
adversaries. Madame Tortoise.
COUNCILLOR: The one who still bears that name ?
AGBOREKO: The same. And that is one descendant we over
looked. Illustrious too beyond a doubt. And they arc
strongly linked to her. Through what crime, I do not know.
OLD MAN : And where does Aroni mean to hold court? If we knew
that . . .
AGBOREKO : If the flea had a home' of his own, he wouldn't be
out on a dog's back. Proverb to bones and silence.
OLD MAN : And Murete . . . wouldn't tell?
AG BOREKO : Nine times I asked Murete of the trees. And nine

times he said to me, Aroni will tell you. Ask him.

OLD MAN: Well, ask him.
AGBOREKO:

[shakes his head.] Aroni is Wisdom itself. When he

of t h e F o r e s t s

35

means to expose the weaknesses of human lives, there is

nothing can stop him. And he knows how to choose his
time.

[drawing him aside.] Oremole . . . the one who . . . fell

from the tree. Is he among the dead?

OLD MAN:

AGBOREKO: Not yet. Perhaps not at all.

OLD MAN : And would the others accuse on his behalf?
A GBOREKO: The lips of the dead did not open thus far. I camwt

tell.

OLD MAN: Does the Old Man of the Forest himself pass j udge

ment or is it his wayward court?

A G BOREKO: Would that affectthe scales of Aroni? The

chameleon dances, his father claps and you exclaim, 'How

modestly the young one keeps silence.' Proverb to bones
and silence.
COUNCILLOR: There is still hope. We have heard nothing of
Forest Father. Perhaps Aroni merely acts on his own.
[shakes his head.] Oro cried last night and Bashiru

AG BOREKO:

vanished from his bed. Do you still wonder what became

of your friend? Proverb to bones and silence.
COUNCILLOR: I am sorry.
ADENEBI: But where does your Forest Father come in? Who is

he anyway?

[ There is total silence while they all stare at him.]

[sighs.] Perhaps I should go and summon Murete

AGBOREKO:

once more. He might have eaten by now.

OLD MAN :

[quickly.] Agboreko, pay no attention to

..

AG BOREKO: Did you think I took notice? Because it rained the

day the egg was hatched the foolish chicken swore he was

[Goes.]
[shouts after him.] Offer Murete millet wine for a

a fish. Proverb to bones and silence.

OLD MAN :

whole year.

ADENEBI: I don't think my place is here. Perhaps this is some

A Dan c e
sort of play for the gathering, but I am too busy to worry
my head a moment longer about all this mystery. I can see
now that the carver is your son . . . such peculiar behaviour.
OLD MAN: You should go. And if you see my son again tell him
not to forget what I told him.
ADENEBI: You'll probably run into him yoursel He is still
somewhere around here.
OLD MAN: Here? In the bush? [Adenebi isgoing.]Wait ! Did you say
you saw my son here?
ADENEBI: I told you. I was with him.
OLD MAN: But here? In the forest? [Angrily.] Why didn't you
tell me that before?
ADENEB!: You didn't ask.
OLD MAN: Forgive me. Were there others?
ADENEBI: Yes. One man, and another, a woman. I was fourth.
OLD MAN: Was it near here?
ADENEBI: [looks around.] Yes. In fact I think we rested in this
clearing for some time.
oLD M AN: Did you hear or notice anything?
ADENEBI: Like what?
OLD MAN: Anything ! Did you meet other people for instance?
ADENEBI: There was nobody else . . . oh no . . . there were two
mad creatures . . . you know, those mad people you find
everywhere. They were very unpleasant looking. In fact, it
was the reason why I decided to go back. They seemed to
follow us all over the place. They made me feel like
vomiting. Oh yes, and I foUn.d that the woman who was
with us was that notorious lady they call Madame Tortoise.
That was really why I left. Think, if!, a councillo r, was
discovered with her !
OLD MAN: [agitatedly.] Madame Tortoise ! And my son was with
you?
ADENBBI: He was.

of t h e F o r e s t s

37

OLD MAN : Who was the fourth?

ADENEBI: I don't know. An impertinent old man. Said he was a
Chief Clerk or something.

OLD MAN : I feared it. Eshuoro was the fourth. Eshuoro must
have been the fourth, leading you all to your destruction.
How did you escape him?
ADENEBI: I . . . I don't know . . . What is this?

OLD MAN : A servant of Oro was killed. Nothing will rest until
we are all bathed in blood . . . [Raises his voice suddenly.]
.

Agboreko ! Agboreko-o !

[Agboreko hurries in almost at once.]

AGBOREKO : They passed here. They stayed at this very spot and
spoke with four people.

OLD MAN : I shouted to tell you the same. Something Adenebi

said awoke all the suspicions in me. And my son was
among the four. With Madame Tortoise. Did you not
know that?

AGBOREKO : Murete consented at last to unseal his lips. Two of

the dead spoke to four people ; they wanted human
advocates.
OLD MAN: At whose prompting?

AGBOREKO : No doubt it is another cwming thought of Aroni.

To let the living condemn themselves.

OLD MAN : [pointing to Adenebi.] He was with them. Why? What

has he ever done?

ADENEBI: Don't class me with Madame Tortoise. I am no

murderer . . .

AGBOREKO : He is still in the forest isn't he? It will all come

out.

ADBNBBI: [Jrightened.] Don't speak of me at all. Leave me out of

your thoughts altogether.

AGBOREK:o : Anyway, the man is a fool. Is that not enough

crime for Aroni?

A Dan c e
OLD MAN: The fourth. Who was the fourth then? There were

four of them.
AGBOREKO: Unil the last gourd has been broken, let us not talk

of drought. Proverbs to bones and silence.

audible again.]

[Beaters' noises

OLD MAN: Then you too have thought the same. Eshuoro it must

have been.
AGBOREKO: A hundred and twenty-one of the sons and servants

of Forest Father it could have been. Even the Father of

Forests himself. Let us be busy. I have sent for my man.
OLD MAN: Yes, yes. They passed here. He says they passed here
and stayed a while. If we drive off the witnesses Aroni has
no power. Where is your man? Isn't he here yet?
AGBOREKO: He is on his way.

[Definite rhythm ofdrums above beaters' noises.]

OLD MAN: He'll come too late.

A G BOREKO: No. Patience, Baba. Patience.
ADENEBI: Who is this man? Shall we send somebody for him?

I will go if you like.

AGBOREKO: If the wind can get lost in the rainstorm it is useless

to send him an umbrella. Proverb to bones and silence.

OLD MAN: Yes, yes, we'll be patient.
AGBOREKO: The eye that looks downwards will certainly see the

nose. The hand that dips to the bottom of the pot will eat
the biggest snail. The sky grows no grass but if the earth
called her barren, it will drink no more milk. The foot of
the snake is not split in two like a man's or in hundreds like
the centipede's, but if Agere could dance patiently like the
snake, he will uncoil the chain that leads into the dead . .
.

[Enter the beaters, shouting. Theflogger immediately breaks

through them and sets out to clear a space with his long whip,
which he freely exercises. The dancerfollows almost at once,
followed by his acolyte (a very intense young girl). She sprinkles

of t h e F o r e s t s

39

the cleared space after the flogger. The dirge-man begins to recite
within aJew minutes of their entry. An assistant hands Agboreko
the divination board, the bowl azd kernels.]
DIRGE-MAN : Move on eyah ! Move apart

I felt the wind breathe-no more

Keep away now. Leave the dead
Some room to dance.

If you see the banana leaf

Freshly fibrous like a woman's breasts
If you see the banana leaf
Shred itself, thread on thread
Hang wet as the crepe of grief
Don't say it's the wind. Leave the dead
Some room to dance.

[Agboreko has already cast the kernels. The Old Man goes
up inquiringly to him. Agboreko draws lines and pronounces.]
AGBOREKO: The loft is not out of reach when the dust means to

settle. Oracle to the living and silence.

[ The Old Man turns away, disappointed. The dancer does 11ot,
ofcourse, ever stop, although the drumming is loweredfor
Agboreko, andfor the dirge-man.]
DIRGE-MAN : [goes to the drummer andgives him the two-fisted
greeting. The acolyte, who has.finished her sprinkling, begins to
dance softly, growing rapidly more intense.]
Ah, your hands are vanished and if it thunders

A D a tzce

40
We know where the hands are gone
But we name no names, let no god think
We spy his envy. Leave the dead
Some room to dance.

[ The process is repeated between Agboreko and the Old Man.]

AGBOREKO: Have you seen a woman throw away her pestle

when she really means to pound yarn? When Iredade took

her case to Orunrnila, he said, If the worm doesn't jig near
the roost, the fowl may still want to peck, but at least it
can't say the worm was throwing dust in his face. Go horne
therefore, go horne. Iredade turned sadly away so
Orunrnila called her back. He said, They say the forest is
more cunning any time of the year, but who ever lay back
in his house and watched the creepers grow over him?
Oracle to the Living and silence.

[ The dirge-man has been circling the acolyte.]

DIRGE-MAN: Daughter, your feet were shod

In eeled shuttles ofYernoja' s loom

But twice your smock went up

And I swear your feet were pounding
Dust at the time. Girl, I know
The games of my ancestors. Leave the dead
'
Some room to dance.

A touch, at that rounded moment of the night

And the dead return to life
Dum-belly woman, plantain-breasted
Mother ! What human husband folds

of t h e F o r e s t s

41

His arms, and blesses randy ghosts?

Keep away now, leave, leave the dead
Some room to dance.

[ The dirge-manjoins one or two others in a casual dance in the

background. Agboreko again consults his board and kernels.]
A GBOREKO: When they heard the thnnder, Osurnare said, That

was only me laughing at mice. If they are the dead and we

are the living, then we are their children. They shan't
curse us. When the busy-body neighbour said to the
child, you haven't been home-trained, the mother went
and tore her wrapper. She said it is not my child you cursed,
it is I.
OLD MAN:

[very disgruntled.] Ho, Th.ey say when the rock hit the

tortoise, he shrugged his shoulder and said, I've always

been cracked. When his wife met him, she asked, When
did you begin to clatter?
AGBOREKO: [putting away his bowl.] Proverb to bones and . . .
That was thnnder !

[He hastily retrieves his paraphernalia.]

OLD MAN: No sign ofrain. I can't see a cloud, can you?

AGBOREKO: It was thnnder. Thnnder. I must cast afresh !

[ The rumble which they all heard continues to increase. It soon

reveals itselfas the roar ofa high-powered lorry, bearing down on
them, headlightsfull on.]

ADENEBI: Look ! It is not thnnder at all. There is a drnnkard at

the wheel.
OLD MAN: I sent for it. For fumigation. It is the Chimney of

Ereko.
AGBOREKO: The Chimney ofEreko ! A-a-ah, Baba, Will you

ne.fer believe that you canno t get rid of ancestors with the
little toys of children . . .

A Dan c e

42
\

A BEATER : The Chimney ofEreko ! The Chimney ofEreko !

[ The cry is taken up. Within seconds they have all panicked.
They scatter in every direction. Adenebi is knocked down. As he
attempts to rise he is knocked down again and trampled byflying
feet. Agboreko and the Old Man stand their groundfor a while,
but Agboreko eventually yields, shouting what is probably a
fitting proverb to the Old Man before making a not very diguljiea
exit, but nothing is heardfor the roar ofthe lorry and the panic of
the crowd.
Before Agboreko is out ofsight, the Old Man takes another look
at the head-lamps and disappears. Adenebi rises slowly. The
noise ofthe engine is quite deafening. He looks round, half-dazed
but becomes suddenly active on discovering that he is alone. Runs
around shouting names, then turns to run into the head/amps,
stops suddenly and stands with raised arms, screaming. There is a
crash, the noise stops suddenly, and the lights go out. Adenebi's
scream being heard above it and after, stopping suddenly as he
hears his own terror in the silence.]
A DEN EBI : [sags slowly to his knees and gropes around.]
Demoke,
.

Demoke. Where is that carver ! And where is that woman

who drains the life from men, slowly or in violence.
Madame Tortoise. Madame Tortoise ! My friends . My
friends . . .

[A slow rumble ofscattered voices, and theforest creatures pass

through,Jrom the direction ofthe lorry, coming straight down
and turning right and left. They all hold leaves to their noses,
and grumble all the way. Some sniffin disgust, others spit, all
stop their noses, disapproving strongly ofthe petrolfumes.
Adenebi tries to make himselfas inconspicuous as possible. Some
fan theirfaces, and one has encased his head completely in a clay
pot. They are all assortments offorest spirits,Jrom
olobiribiti, who rolls himself/ike a ball, to the tow-headed
purubororo, whosefour horns belch continuous smoke.]

of t h e F o r e s t s
ADENEBI:

43

k_merging when all is again quiet. Looks around him.] I have

always lived in mortal terror of being lost.

[Obaneji, Rola and Demoke enter. They walk across and out
on the other side without seeing Adenebi. Obaneji returns at
once.]

OBANEJI: Did you fmd out?

ADENEBI:

[quickly on the defensive.]

What? What ought I to have

found out?
OBANEJI: You promised me. You said you would use your

influence. For my records. Who did it? Who burnt out

sixty-five souls?

ADENEBI: I . . . do not wish . . . to know you. I want to be left

alone.

[Obaneji turns to go with a shrug.]

ADENEBI: Wait. I want to find my wy out. I am lost here.

OBANEJI:

[pointing to the direction they were taking.] Not this way.

This leads deeper into the forest.

ADENEBI: Where are you taking them?
OBANEJI: To the welcoming of the dead. Your people refuse to

acknowledge them. And yet they sacrificed until my

dwelling reeked ofnothing but sheep's blood and I granted

their request. Now they drive them out like thieves. [Goes.]
[Adenebifaces the opposite direction. Takes a stepforward,
peers into the darkness. Turns and nms after Obaneji.]

P A R T T \V O

Sceru as Afurete's duelliug. M11rete is abo11t to leave home for the

lwmau Jestil'ities. St,,ps to clea11 his nails against the bark of the tree.
WRETE :

[gmmblirzg.] Fine time to tell me he no longer needs me.

What '"'"ill I find at this hour but the dregs of emptied pots?
If it wasn't considered obscene I would compensate my loss
from the palm tree. Can't understand why not. Human
beings drink their mother's milk. Drink the milk of
mothers other than their own. Drink goat's milk. Cow's

milk. Pig's blood. So just because I am Murete ofthe trees

is no reason why I shouldn't climb the palm tree and help
myself. I'll do it too. One of these days when I am drunk
enough. [Stops.] Hm, there doesn't seem to be any sense in
that. If I'm drunk, then I am not thirsty, so what would I
be doing up the palm? [Examir1es his nails with satisfaction.

Straightens 11p his.fir1ery.] But I'll do itjust the same. If Aroni

likes, he can ostracize me.

[Esl111oro entersfrom behind, grasps him by tl1e throat.]

ESHUORO : Swear, not a word.
:<.1GRETE :

[chokir1g.] I swear.

ESHUORO : Not a word to anyone that you saw me.

:<.WRETE : I swear.
ESHUO R O : Swear again. And don't forget that Eshuoro does not

forgive the sacrilegious.

tears it off] Swear !

MURETE: I swear.

[Forces a le'!fbetu1een his teeth and

[Eslworo lets him go, Af1rete st11mbles angrily spitting o11t the
piece ofleafin his mourl1.]
M U RETE : [with impoteutJury.] Have you had your ill of eating

A D a n c e of t h e F o r e s t s

45

others' roofs that you now think you can spare Murete a
leaf or two of my own house !
ESHUORO: [looks at the tree.] That was nothing. And don't make
me prove to you it was nothing. Answer quickly. Today
is the day, isn't it?
MURETE: So you say. But what day is it, forest sage?
ESHUORO: Be careful . . . I asked you whether or not today was
the day for Aroni's harmless little ceremony. His welcome
of the dead. Another mild lesson for those fleas he calls
humans. Is it or isn't it?
MURETE: How do I know?
ESHUORO: Don't lie to me. Today is their gathering of the tribes.
I know they asked for conquerors and Aroni has sent them
accusers, knowing they would never welcome them. So he
holds his little feast. A few human witnesses who are
returning to their holes, supposedly wiser.
MURETE: Go and complain to Forest Father.
ESHUORO: I was not even invited. Another convenient
forgetfulness of Aroni's, isn't it?
MURETE: Don't bring me into your squabbles. They don't
interest me.
ESHUORO: Answer quickly. On whose side are you?
MURETE: I hadn't been told we were taking sides.
ESHUORO: Fool. How you survived till now I do not know.
Have you seen how they celebrate the gathering of the
tribes? In our own destruction. Today they even dared to
chase out the forest spirits by poisoning the air with petrol
fumes. Have you seen how much of the forest has been
torn down for their petty decorations?
MURETE: I know it wasn't the humans who ate my roofing.

[Eshuoro presses his arm so hard Murete yelps with pain.]

ESHUORO: Don't talk back, tree gleaner. I'm telling you today
must be a day of reprisals. While they are glutted and full

A D a n ce
of themselves that is the time. Aroni' s little ceremony must
be made into a bloody sentence. My patience is at an end.
Where the humans preserve a little bush behind their
homes, it is only because they want somewhere for their
garbage. Dead dogs and human excrement are all you'll
find in it. The whole forest stinks. Stinks ofhuman
obscenities. And who holds us back? Forest Father and his
lame minion, Aroni. They and their little ceremonies of
gentle rebuke.
MURETE : You feel strongly about it. That is commendable. Isn't
Forest Father the one who can help you? Go and talk to
him Or if you are afraid to go, tell me and I'll make you
.

an appointment.
ESHUORO : You had better not go to him if that is in your mind.
I'll have you bitten for seven years by ants.
MURETE : Oh. Oh. So you can count on them can you? You have
been poisoning the mind of the ants.
ESHUO R O : They were not difficult to win over. And they'll be
present at the welcoming. Four hundred million of their
dead will crush the humans in a load of guilt. Four hundred
million callously smoked to death. Since when was the
forest so weak that humans could smoke out the owners
and sleep after?
MURETE : No one has complained much. We have claimed our
ov.n victims-for every tree that is felled or for every beast
that is slaughtered, there is recompense, given or forced.
ESHUORO : (twists his arm.] Be sure then to take yourself off today.
Every one of you that won't come clearly on my side must
take himself off. Go into the town if you love them so
much and join the gathering of the tribes.
MURETE : What will you do?
ESHUORO : My jester will accompany me. Aroni means to let the
humans judge themselves. Good. My jester will teach them

of t h e F o r e s t s

47

how. Aroni means to let them go, afterwards. Means to

let them live. Are they not guilty people?
MURETE : Let who go?
ESHUORO: Are you still pretending. The human witnesses he has

abducted. He means to let them go afterwards.

MURETE: Eshuoro, you won't dare.
ESH UORO : Not by my hand. But if the humans, as always, wreak

havoc on their own heads, who are we to stop them?

Don't they always decide their own lives ?
MURETE : I am not much concerned. But it seems to me that,

limb for limb, the forest has always proved victor.

ESH UORO: This great assemblage of theirs is an affront. And I

have suffered the biggest insult any son of Forest Head has
ever experienced from the hand of a human insert.
MURETE : Ask for justice from Forest Head.
ESHUORO: Am I his son or am I not?

I have told him. I have asked

that he pass judgement for my limbs that were hacked off

piece by piece. For my eyes that were gouged and my roots
disrespectfully made naked to the world. For the
desecration of my forest body.
MURETE : What you are talking about? Is it still about the
woodcutter who chopped off your top?
ESH UORO: Have you not been to the town centre? Have you not

seen this new thing he made for me? The beacon for the
gathering of the tribes. Have you not seen the centrepiece
of their vulgarity?
URETE: What?
SHUORO: The totem, blind fool, drunk fool, insensitive fool.

The totem, my fmal insult. The fmal taunt from the human
pigs. Tho tree that is marked down for Oro, the tree from
whjch my follower fell to his death, foully or by accident,
I have still to discover when we meet at the next wailing.
But my body was stripped by the impious hands of

A D a n ce
Demoke, Ogun' s favoured slave of the forge. My head was
hacked offby his axe. Trampled, sweated on, bled on, my
body's shame pointed at the sky by the adze ofDemoke, will
I let this day pass without vengeance claimed blood for sap ?
M U RETE : Why . . . you . . . mucus off a crab's carbuncle. You
stream of fig pus from the duct of a stumbling bat. That is
an offering which would have gladdened the heart of
Forest Father himself. He would have called it adulation.
Did he not himself teach them the arts, and must they be
confined to little rotted chips which fall offwhen
Eshuoro peels like a snake of the previous year. Offal of the
hyena tribe, all you want is an excuse to feed on carrion !
Dare you call yourself of the Forest blood? You are only
the greasy recesses of a rodent's nest . . .

[Eshuoro breaks a branch offthe tree, whirls and whirls it round

him in an effort to smash 1\.furete oncefor all. Murete runs off.
Eshuoro drops the stick and rages. Does afreneticjig as heflings
his grievance to the world.]
E S H U O R O : Demoke, son and son to carvers, who taught you

How you impale me, abuse me ! Scratching my shame

To the dwellers ofhell, where
The womb-snake shudders and the world is set on fire.
Demoke, did you know ? Mine is the tallest tree that grows
On land. Mine is the head that cows
The Messengers of heaven. Did you not know?
Demoke, did you not know? Only the tree may eat itself.
'
Oro alone is the worm that strips himself
Denudes the forest in a night. Only I
May eat the leaves of the silk-cotton tree.
And let men cower and women run to hole.
My voice is thin, my voice is shrill, my voice
Is no child's lullaby to human ears.
Place mariwo between your gates and let my knives

of t h e F o r e s t s

49

Seek the curious eye of the unbidden stranger.

Demoke, watch for the sudden fall of slighted trees
The tallest tree alone is mine, and mine alone.
Skin of my loins, see where it holds the branches.
Where the wind goes, a shred of Oro
Marks the trail, and when it drips, it is not
From camwood dye. Red, red is the colour of the wind
Oro is the nothing that the eye beholds
Spirits of the dead eat and drink of me
Long since the beginning. Spirits of the dead
Have feasted on Oro but do I grow less?
Do I grow thin? Do I cry when the night-bird pecks?
Oro is the nothing that the eye beholds
The child that vanishes and the silent lips of men.
Bathe children of my dead in ram's blood
That I may know them, and spare them
But do not forget the following year, or the year
That comes after ; aye, Oro also can forget
And women cry when Oro rubs off yesterdays
Covers with sand the smear of blood proclaiming
That the father rested on the horns of rams.
Demoke, son and son again to pious carvers,
Have you lost fear? Demoke, renegade, beware
The slanted eye ofnight. Beware
The anger of the silent wind that rustles
Not a leaf. I'll be revenged. Eshuoro, I,
I'll be revenged, I'll be revenged . . .
[Rushes out.]
*

[Another part oftheforest.

Approaching sound ofa gong. Enter the Forest Crier
with a scroll. Strikes his gong. AJew Forest Spirits
emergefrom hiding places. Mostly, ollly theirfaces

so

A D a n ce
can be seen. The Crier walks with a kind of mechanical to
and fro movement.]

CRIER : To all such as dwell in these Forests ; Rock devils,

Earth imps, Tree demons, ghomrnids, dewilds, genie

Incubi, succubi, windhorls, bits and halves and such
Sons and subjects of Forest Father, and all
That dwell in his domain, take note, this night
Is the welcome of the dead. When spells are cast
And the dead invoked by the living, only such
May resume their body corporeal as are summoned
When the understreams that whirl them endlessly
Complete a circle.Only such may regain
Voice auditorial as are summoned when their link
With the living has fully repeated its nature, has
Re-impressed fully on the tapestry of lgbehinadtm
In approximate duplicate of actions, be they
Of good, or of evil, of violence or carelessness ;
In approximate duplicate of motives, be they
Illusory, tangible, commendable or damnable.
Take note, this selection, is by the living.
We hold these rites, at human insistence.
By proclamation, let the mists of generations
Be now dispersed. Forest Father, unveil, unveil
The phantasmagoria of protagonists from the dead.

[Exit the crier. Forest Father enters, accompanied by Aroni.

They remain to or1e side.]
,

FOREST HEAD : Oh, they made amusing companions. It was

really their latent violence which frightened me. I did not

know what I would do if it involved me.
ARO N I : They appear tame enough now.
FOREST HEAD : So tame in fact, I could send them home. But
they forget too easily.
ARO N I : They had no suspicion of you?

of t h e F o r e s t s

51

FOREST HEAD: Only uncertainty. I threw dark hints to preserve

my mystery and force them into an acceptance of my

aloofness. It held them all except the woman.
ARONI: Madame Tortoise.
FOREST HEAD: The same. You have done very well to choose
her Aroni. I am very pleased. Ah-Eshuoro ?
ARONI: He will find us. I have laid a trail that will bring him to us.
FOREST HEAD: We will make use of him. If the child needs a

fright, then the mother must summon the witch. Proverbs

to . . . How is it spoken by that busy man-Agboreko ?
[mimicking.] Proverb to bones and silence.

ARONI:

[ They laugh.]

F O REST HEAD: Murete's blood brother i he not? Brother in

fermented millet blood. Well, is everything prepared?

ARONI : We are ready.
F O REST HEAD: Remind me, how far back are we?
ARONI: About eight centuries. Possibly more. One of their great

empires. I forget which.

FOREST HEAD: It matters nothing . . .

[Aroni waves his hand in a circle. The court ofMata Kharibu

lights up gradually. Two thrones. One contains Mata Kharibu,
the other, his queen, Madame Tortoise, both surrounded by
splendour. A page plucks an African guitar. Mata Kharibu is
angry; his eyes roll terribly; the court cowers. His queen, on
the other hand, is very gay and cruel in her coquetry. She seems
quite oblivious ofthe king's condition. The court poet (Demoke)
stands aJewfeetfrom her. Behind him stands his scribe, a young
boy, pen and scroll at the ready. Those not involved in the action
at any time,freeze in one position.]
MADAME TORTOIS E : [gaily.] I am sad.
C O U RT l'OET: It is a mantle, my lady, woven only for the

gracious. Sadness is noble my lady, and you wear it like the

night. [Aside.] And I hope it smothers you like one.

A D a n ce

52

MADAME TORTO I S E : The sadness will not leave me. I have lost

my canary.
C O U RT POET : Your canary, Madame? Would you say-and I do

wish it Madame-that you had lost your head?

MADAME TORTOISE : Unriddle me.
COURT POET : My lady, I would not say, look up. It is not given

to the eye to perceive its own beauty. Reflection is nothing,

except in the eye of a sensitive soul. Mirror is dross.
MADAME TORTOISE : [gaily.] I am impatient.
C O URT POET : Your hair is the feathers my lady, and the breast of
the canary-your forehead my lady-is the inspiration of
your servant. Madame, you must not say you have lost
your canary-[aside] unless it also be your virtue, slut !
MADAME TORTO I S E : And yet I would have it here, with me. Can
you fly as high with your feet as you conjure so easily with
words?
cOURT POET : Madame, it is my turn to be unriddled.
MADAME TORTOISE : I know where my canary is, but will you

fetch it for me. I want it here with me.

C O URT POET : Command me, my lady !
MADAME TORTOIS E : On the roof-top. fetch it, poet.

c o URT POET : [ leaus out ofa

window. Whistles.]

MADAME TORTOIS E : No fool. Do you want it to tire itselfwith

flying?
C O URT POET : My lady, you were born on satin, on brocades and

red velvet. A canary, was born on wings.

MAD AME TORTOISE: Go after it. The canary will like you better

for it.

[ The poet's novice quickly lays down his scroll.]

NO VICE : Indeed, a royal bird may not be tired. And my hands

are soft. I will fetch the canary.

MADAME TORTOI S E : If your tutor gives permission, certainly.

What do you say, my poet?

of t h e F o r e s t s

53

COURT POET : Did not a soldier fall to his death from the roof two

days ago my lady?

MAD AME TORTO I S E : That is so. I heard a disturbance, and I called

the guard to fmd the cause. I thought it came from the rocf
and I directed him there. He was too eager and he fell.
C O URT POET: From favour Madame ?

(eyeing him coolly.] From the roo(

[ They look at each other.]

MADAME TORTO I S E :

MADAME TORTOISE: Well?

C O U RT POET : I forbid him to go.
MADAME TORTOI S E : I order him to go.

[ The novice runs off.]

MADAME TORTOI S E : And I order you to follow him. When

he

has retrieved my canary, bring it here to me, like a servant.

[ The poet bows and leaves. Madame Tortoise and her attendants
remain statuesque.]
[From the opposite side, a warrior is pushed in,feet chained
together. Mata Kharibu leaps up at once. The warrior is the Dead
Man. He is still in his warrior garb, only it is bright and new.]
MATA KHARIBU : [advancing slowly on him.] It was you, slave !
You it was who dared to think.
wARRIOR : I plead guilty to the possession of thought. I did not

know that it was in me to exercise it, w1til your Majesty's

inhuman commands.

[Mata Kharibu slaps him across theface.]

MATA KHARIB u: You have not even begnn to repent of your

madness.
WARRI O R : Madness your Majesty?
MATA KHARIB U : Madness ! Treachery ! Frothing insanity traitor !

Do you dare to question my words?

w ARRI O J,l. : No, terrible one. Only your commands.

[Mata Kharibu whips out his sword. Raises it. The soldier bows
his head.]

A D a n ce

54
PHYSICIA N : Your Majesty !

[He lwrriesforrvard. W11ispers itl

Kharibu's ear. Kharibu subsides, goes back to his throne, and
watches them, glowering.] You know me. You know you

can trust n1e.

wARRI O R : I know you are in the pay of Mata Kharibu.

PHYSICIAN : But you canno t accuse me of inhumanity. I saved

you twice from being tortured. And just now I saved

your life. Try and think of me only as a friend.

[ The soldier remains silent.]

I am trying to help you. Not only you, but ym..r men who
regard you so much as their leader that they can refuse to
fight when you order them not to.
WARRI O R : It is an unjust war. I cannot lead my men into battle
merely to recover the trousseau of any woman.
PHYSICIAN : Ah. But do you not see? It goes further than iliat.
It is no longer the war of the queen's wardrobe. The war is
now an affair ofhonour.

WARRI O R : An affair ofhonour? Since when was it an honourable

thing to steal the wife of a broilier chieftain?

PHYSICIAN : Can you really judge the action of another?

WARRIO R : No. But the results, and when they affect me and men

who place their trust in me. If ilie king steals anothtr's

wife, it is his affair. But let it remain so. Mata Kharibu
thought, hoped that the dishonoured king would go to war
on her account. There he was wrong. It seems her rightful

husband does not consider that your new queen is worth a

battle. But Mata Kharibu is so bent on bloodshed that he

sends him a new message. Release the goods of this woman
I took from you if there will be peace between us. Is this the
action of a ruler who values the peace ofhis subjects?

P H Y S I CIAN : A man cannot take a wife without a dowry. Mata

Kharibu asks what is rightly his. The dowry of a woman he

takes to wife.

of t h e F o r e s t s

55

WARRIOR : I understand. I thank you for enlightening me,

Physician.
PHYSI CIAN : And will you fight?
WARRIO R : You have done your work. You may tell the king

that I was mad before, but now I am fully returned to my

senses.

[ The Physician looks at him doubtfully.]

Go to him sir. Or perhaps I ought to say, go and make

your report to the woman who now rules all our lives
even Mata Kharibu. Go to the woman who draws
the frown on his face and greases the thunder of his
voice. Tell her I know her ambitions. I will not fight
her war.
PHYSICIAN : Fool. A soldier does not choose his wars.
wARRIO R : Is Mata Kharibu not a soldier?
PHYSI CIAN : Was ever a man so bent on his own destruction !
wARRI O R : If that referred to the king, you have spoken your

first true word today.

PHYSICIAN: Future generations will label you traitor. Your

son, your children will all call you . . . a-ah I remember

now. You have a wife have you not? An exp ctant
mother?
WARRI O R : I know what runs in your head. But it will not help

you. Summon the tears of my wife and her unborn child if

you so desire. But there is no leader who will not feel a
stronger tie of blood with soldiers than with a stranger he
took to wife. My duty is to my men.

[ The Physician shu.ffles, uncertain how to proceed.]

PHYSICIAN : Unborn generations will . . .

wARRIOR: Unborn generations will be cannibals most

worshipful Physician. Unborn generations will, as we

have done, eat up one another. Perhaps you can devise a
cure, you who know how to cure so many ills. I took up

s6

A Dance

soldiering to defend my coWl try, but those to whom I

gave the power to command my life abuse my trust in
them.
PHYSICIAN : Liar ! Is Mata Kharibu not your general !
wARRIOR : Mata Kharibu is leader, not merely of soldiers but of
men. Let him turn the unnatural pattern ofmen always
eating up one another. I am suddenly weary of this
soldiering where men must find new squabbles for their
cruelty. Must I tell the widowed that their men died for
another's trousseau?
PHYSICIAN: You think your own life is yours to dispose of?
WARRI O R : I have the right to choose how I mean to die.
P H Y S I CIAN : Your own life. Are you sure that no one else may
waste your life except you?
WARRI O R : Why do you continue this useless questioning? I have
told you that I am ready to submit my neck to . . .
PHYSICIAN: But the others . . . the others . . . Have you a right to
submit the neck of another ?
WARRIO R : What d o you mean?
P H Y S I CIAN : Your men. The soldiers who follow you. The men
you have misled. They have become traitors like you or do
you not know that?
WARRIOR : They made their choice themselves. They must do as
they decide.

PHYSICIAN : You have told them what to think. You have ordered

their feelings. These men are used to obeying you. Ifyou

are so determined to die, yoi.1 must first release them of
their allegiance to you.
WARRIOR: [looks up. Breaks into a smile.] I see. Now I Wlder
stand what you want. You are afraid. Mata Kharibu is
afraid.
PHYSICIAN : [scared.] Be quiet. For heaven's sake do not speak so
loud.

of t h e F o r e s t s
WARRIO R : But I am right. Perhaps I have started

57
a

new disease

that catches quickly.

[Enter the Historia11 (Admebi) with scrolls.]

HISTORIAN : Don't flatter yourself. Every blade of grass that has

allowed its own contamination can be burnt out. This

thing cannot last. It is unheard of. In a thousand years it will
be unheard of. Nations live by strength ; nothing else has
meaning. You only throw your life away uselessly.
[apprehetzsive.] Did you find anything?

MATA KHARI B U :

H I S TORIAN : There is no precedent, your Highness.

M ATA KHARIBU : You have looked thoroughly?
H IS T O RIAN : It is unheard of. War is the only consistency that

past ages afford us. It is the legacy which new nations seek
to perpetuate. Patriots are grateful tor wars. Soldiers have
never questioned bloodshed. The cause is always the
accident your Majesty, and war is the Destiny. This man is
a traitor. He must be in the enemy's pay.
M ATA KHARI B U : He has taken sixty of my best soldiers with him.
HISTORIAN: Your Highness has been too lenient. Is the nation to

ignore the challenge of greatness because of the

petty-mindedness of a few cowards and traitors.
wARRI O R : I am no traitor !
HIST ORIAN : Be quiet Soldier ! I have here the whole history of
Troy. If you were not the swillage of pigs and could read
the writings of wiser men, I would show you the
magnificence of the destruction of a beautiful city. I would
reveal to you the attainments of men which lifted mankind
to the ranks of gods and demi-gods. And who was the
inspiration of this divine carnage ? Helen ofTroy, a woman
whose honour became as rare a conception as her beauty.
Would Troy, ifit were standing today lay claim to
presrvation in the annals of history if a thousand valiant
Greeks had not been slaughtered before its gates, and a

A D a n ce

ss

hnndred thousand Trojans within her walls? Do you, a

mere cog in the wheel ofDestiny, cover your face and
whine like a thing that is nnfit to lick a soldier's boots, you,
a Captain . . . Your Majesty, I am only the Court historian
and I crave your august indulgence for any excess of zeal.
But history has always revealed that the soldier who will
not fight has the blood of slaves in him. For the sake of
your humble subjects, this renegade must be treated as a
slave.
MATA KHARIB U : Not only he. Every one who thinks like him,

be he soldier or merchant. I will have no moral termites a

thousand miles within my domain. Mata Kharibu is not
the idle eye that watches contemptible insects eat away the
strength ofhis kindgom.

[The Soothsayer (Agboreko) enters.]

.MAT A KHARIB u : If you come to tell me of nnfavourable stars,

soothsayer, turn ronnd and go out again. We will fight this

war in spite of cowards or auguries.
SOO THSAYER : I see much blood Mata Kharibu. On both sides of
the plough.
MATA KHARI B U : I will be satisfied with that. Does it not mean a

great battle ? On Kharibu' s side at least, there will be real

soldiers fighting. Sell that man down the river. He and his
men. Sell them all down the river.
PHYSIC IAN : Think again your Highness. It is a whole company.
HISTORIA N : His Majesty has decided wisely. Those men can

'
never again be trusted.
MATA KHARIB U : I want them taken away inunediately. I do not
want sight or smell of them after snnset. Ifno boat can be
fonnd, drown them.
S LAVE-D EALER : Your Majesty !
MATA KHAR I B U : I will hear no petitions today.

SLAVE-DEALER :

[throwing himselfforward.] I am no petitioner

of t h e F o r e s t s

59

Mata Kharibu. I merely place my vessel at the disposal of

your august Majesty.
MATA KHAR I B U : Oh ! you. Are you not the slave-dealer ?
SLAVE-DEALER : Your humble servant i s amply rewarded. Your

Highness has deigned before to use me as an agent, and

hearing that there was to be another war, I came to offer
my services. However, if there are slaves even before the
battle has begun . . .
MA TA KHARI B U : They are yours. If they are out of my Kingdom

before an hour, I shall not forget you.

PHYSI CIAN : Mata Kharibu, most humane of monarchs, the

crime of your soldiers is a terrible one, but do not place men

who once served you faithfully in the hands of that
merchant.
MATA KHARI B U : Why ? What is this?
PHYSICIAN : Sir, I know the man of old, and I know the slight

coffm in which he stuffs his victims. He knows how to get

them down alive ; it is his trade. But until he is near the
slave-market, the wretches have gone through the twenty
torments of hell.
SLAVE-DEALE R : I have a new vessel. A true palace worthy of

renegade soldiers. You malign me Physician?

HISTORIAN : Mata Kharibu need not be troubled about their fate.

Their lives are forfeit.

PHYSICIA N : Then execute them at once your Highness. Kill

them all but do not deliver them into his hands.

SLAVE-DEALER : Come down to the shore and into my vessel,

and I will not ask you before you strip your body and lie
contented as . . .

PHYSI ClAN : Don't try your oily words with me, liar !
SLAVE-DEALER : But I assure you Mr. Physician . . .

MATA KHARI B U : Silence ! Have I now become the market over

seer that you squabble before me which stick drives the

A D a n ce

6o

cattle to the sale? Beware bt the blood that is let at the

battle be nothing compared to the heads that ,.,.ill roll if
one more voice forgets to lower itselfin my hearing.
Villains ! Has the rot that has beset my soldiers already
spread into my court that I cannot even th.i.n.k because a
bazaar has been opened before my throne !

[He storms off. He is about to pass by tht Soothsayer when 1u

stops, pulls him aside.]
I saw it on your face. The stars were
unfavourable?
soOTHSAYER: Then why do you proceed?
MAT A KHARIBu : It is too late to stop. I have been frightened.
I dare not stop. I cannot stop. That captain ofmy army has
put a curse on me.
SOOTHSAYER: A curse? Then that may explain . . .
MATA KHARIBU: No. Not like that. They have not cursed me as
you think. But this new thing . . . You are v."ise. Surdy
you can understand. It is unheard o I shall be shamed
before generations to come. What does it mean? Why
should my slave, my subject, my mere human property
say, unless he is mad, I shall not fight this war. Is he a freak?
SOOTHS AYER: No.
MAT A KHARIBu : I could understand it ifhe aimed at my throne.
But he is not even man for that. What does it mean?
What do you see for me in the future? Will there be more
like him, born with this thught cancer in their heart?
SOOTHSAYER: Mata Kharibu, have you ever seen a smudge on
the face ofthe moon?
MATA KHARIBU: What do you mean?
SOOTH SAYER: Have you?
ATA KHARIBU: No.
SOOTHSAYER: And yet it happens. Once in every milli on years,
one of the sheep that trail the moon in its wanderings does
MATA KHARIBU:

61

of t h e F o r e s t s

dare to wipe its smutty nose on the moon. Once in a

million years. But the moon is there still. And who
remembers the envy-ridden sheep?
MATA KHARIBU : So the future holds nothing for men like him?
S O O T H S AYER : Nothing. Nothing at all.
MATA KHARIBU : [going.] At least, in the reign ofMata Kharibu, I
shall see that your words are true.
S O OTHSAYER : [looking after him, musingly.] No. It does not depend
on you, Mata Kharibu. It is in the nature of men to seek
power over the lives ofothers, and there is always something
lower than a servant. [Goes.]

[During theforegoing, the Slave-dealer and the Historian

exchangefurtive whispers. As soon as Mata Kharibu leaves the
court, the Physician marches purposefully towards the Slave
dealer.]

You shifty, miserable flesh merchant, how dare you

suggest that you have the space in that fmger-bowl to
transport sixty full-grown men?
S LAVE-D EALER : Honourable Physician to the court of Mata
Kharibu, why this concern for the health of traitors
condemned to a fate worse than death?
PHYSICIAN : Mata Kharibu is not so devoid ofhumanity as to . . .
SLAVE-DEALER : I have no wish to argue that point. Mr. Physician,
I assure you most sincerely that you are mistaken. My new
vessel is capable of transporting the whole ofKharibu' s
court to hell-when that time does come. The Honourable
Historian here can testify to it. I took him aboard . .
PHYS I C I A N :

[Behind his back, he passes a bag ofmoney to the Historian,

who takes it,feels it and pockets it.] . . only this afternoon,
.

and showed him every plank and rope . . . ask him yourself.
HISTORI N : That is a fact. Mata Kharibu and all his ancestors
would be proud to ride in such a boat.
PHYS I C I A N : In that case . I . . .
.

62

A D a n ce
I take my leave ofyou. Be good enough to give
me your official clearance. I have only an hour, remember.

S LAVE-D EALER:

[Goes.]

Do come for some sherbet at my house . . . [places

his arm round the Physician.] . . . You are a learned man and I

HIS TORIAN :

would appreciate an opportunity to discuss the historical

implications ofthis . . . mutiny . . . if one can really call it
that . . . We were so near to the greatness ofTroy and
Greece . . . I mean this is war as it should be fought . . . over
nothing . . . do you not agree?

[ They go off.]
[ The Court Poet enters with a golden cage, containing a canary.]

You were late returning, poet.

Such is the generosity of my lady's smiles, the poet
is now indulged, and cannot abide storms. Madame, I
waited until sunshine was restored [aside] hoping it would
shrivel you.
MADAME TORTO I S E : Is that my canary? I no longer desire it.
COURT POET : It is the privilege ofBeauty to be capricious.
M A D A ME TORTOISE: You return alone. Where is your novice?
C O U RT POET : My pupil Madame? He was so eager to earn the
good graces ofyour Highness.
M A D A M E TORTOI S E : And may no one deserve them but you?
C OURT POET : No one, your Highness. No one else.
M A D A M E TORTOISE : You have not told me. Where is your pupil?
COURT POET : Being a good pupQ Madame, he has just learned a
new lesson.
M A D A M E TORTOISE : I am waiting to learn too, poet. What
lesson was this?
CO URT POET: In short Madame, he was too eager, and he fell.
M A D A M E TORTOISE : How fell? What do you mean? Is he dead?
C O U RT POET : No Madame. Only a mild fall. He broke an arm.

M A DAME TORTOI S E :
CO URT POET :

[ They stare each other in the eye.]

of t h e F o r e s t s
So, so.
That roof is dangerous Madame. Did not a soldier
also fall from the same spot?
MADAME TORTOI S E : [mocking.) He was too eager, and he fell.

MADAME TORTOI S E :
C O URT POET:

[Again, they look each other in the eye.)

So, so, your Highness . . .

Leave me now poet. And take the bird with
you. And look out my poet; sometimes, you grow
weansome.

c o uRT POET:

MADAME TORTO I S E :

[Court Poet bows, and departs. The queen looks around. Eyes
the kneeling soldierfor aJew moments, then claps her hands.
The Court is instantly cleared, exceptfor the soldier and his
guard. She angrily signals the guard ffand he disappears.)
MADAME TORTO I S E :

Come here soldier.

[ When there is still no response, she smiles, and rises

voluptuously. Stands very close to the soldier.)
MAD AME TORTOIS E : [jerks up his head suddenly, laughing.) You are
the one that will not fight for me?
Madame, I beg you to keep your distance. Restraint
is a difficult exercise for a man condemned to dishonour.
MADAME TORTOI S E : Restraint ha ! That is a virtue lacked by
your soldiers . . . or did you not know that?
wARRIOR : I did not mean that kind of restraint. Madame, I know
what havoc you have wreaked among my men, and we
now face the final destruction ofa good band ofloyal men.
Somehow, I do not hate you. But I do know the power
of blood on the brain. I beg you to keep beyond my
hands.
MADAME TORTOI S E : [thrusts herselfquite close to him.) A man. You
speak like a man. No wonder your men are all men,
evry one of them. They have been well taught by their
leader. It is a marvellous thing. These men were stupid, but
they come under a leader, a man, and suddenly they stand
wARRIOR :

A D a n ce
'

upright and demand more than what is theirs. I did not

know until now that you spoke through them all.
WARRI O R : Madame, desist from this torture.
MADAME TORTO I S E : Torture ! I have cause to torture you. Did
you know the one who fell from the roof? The one who
leapt to his death, on my account?
WARRI O R : Madame !
MAD HIE T O RTOISE : He could not Wlderstand that I took him,
just as I select a new pin every day. He came back again and
could not understand why the door was barred to him. He
was such a fool.
wARRI O R : I have no wish to hear.
MADAME TORT O I S E : Your soldiers gave me my name. It is one I
revel in. Ycu may call me by that name.

[ The soldier shuts his eyes.fiercely, tries to stop his ears but his
ha11ds are chair1ed together.]

Mata Kharibu is a fool. You are a man and

a leader, Soldier. Have you no wish to sit where Mata
Kharibu sits?
wARRI O R : I cannot hear you Madame, I cannot hear you !
MAD AME TORT O I S E : Call me by my name. Madame Tortoise. I
am the one who outlasts you all. Madame Tortoise. You
are a man, I swear I must respect you.
WA RRIO R : Guard ! Guard !
MADAME T O RTOIS E : I can save you. I can save you alone, or with
your men. Choose. Choose. Why should a man be wasted?
Why must you waste yourself for a fool like Kharibu?
Choose, and let me be with you.
S O LDIER : Guard ! Guard !
MADAME TORTO I S E : What are you? Men have killed for me.
Men have died for me. Have you flints in your eye? Fool,
have you never lived?
WARR I O R : [desperately.] Guard !
MADAME TORTOIS E :

of t h e F o r e s t s

6s

[A woman, dishevelled, rushes in,followed by a guard, who

clutches her shawl. They come to a stop as the queen turns on
them ,face contorted withJury. The woman is pregnant. (She is
the Dead Woman.)]
WARRI O R : [turning slowly, nearly breaking dowrr.] Go home, in
heaven's name, go home.

[herface breaks irttofiendislmess.] I knew it was

incredible. It could not be. I, Madame Tortoise, spurned
by a common soldier. For that ! Was it for that?

MAD AME TORTO I S E :

[ The wife moves towards the queen,Jalls on her knees.]

[veryfaintly.] Mercy !

WOMA N :

Guard. Pay close attention to my words.

Do eunuchs not fetch a good price at the market?
G UARD : Madame?
WOMAN : Have pity. Have pity.
MADAME TORTOISE: [to the Warrior.] You are lost. But have your
wish. Warriors are sold as men but eunuchs guard the
harems ofother Mata Kharibus, drooling on wares that
they cannot taste. Choose !
MADAME TORTOISE :

[ The Captain looks at his wife, who turns herface to the ground.]

MADAME TORTOIS E : I

am impatient. I will not be trifled with !

[ The Captain continues to look at his wife.]

Guard. You know my sentence. See that

you carry it out.

MADAME TORT O I S E :

( The woman clasps her womb, gasps and collapses. Suddm

black-out. Immediate light to reveal Aroni artd Forest Head, who
continue to stare into the spectacle. They remain sofor several
moments.]
ESHUORO : [striding in, with hisjester at his heels.] The soldier v,ras a
fool.
Eshuoro !
ESHUOR : The soldier was a fool. A woman. He was a woman.
What have you proved?

ARONI :

A Dance

66

I see you could not be kept away.

E S H U O R O : I was not invited. Once again, I was marked down to
A R O NI :

be slighted. Aroni, I warn you beware. You walk close to

the Father of Forests and I suspect you do me an ill turn at
every word.
F O R E S T HEAD :

Be silent then and do not harm yourself with

your every word.

ESHUORO :

When is the gentle admonishment ? The spectacle is

over and not a word of the ills wreaked on me. Have I not
lodged complaint ? I hear no word of redress. I have been
assaulted and my follower murdered-yes, I know it now
-murdered. Must I be minced and ground in the dust
befo re Forest Head deigns to look my way ?
F O RE S T H E A D :

I forget nothing. There is still the welcome of the

dead. I omit nothing.

[Enter Ogun.]
O GUN :

Face to face at last Eshuoro . Do you come here with

your loud words and empty boasts ? Soulless one, Demoke

is no empty nut that fell, motherless from the sky. In all
that he did, he followed my bidding. I will speak for him.
ESHUORO :

I have suffered this too long. Perhaps the master must

first be taught and then he can teach his minions to be

hun1ble.
o G U N : Minion ? This minion of mine Eshuoro-is it not
rumoured that he has done you service lately as a barber ?
ESHUORO :

[between his teeth.] I have borne too much already to

take your taunts lightly. Ogun, I warn you beware . . .

O G U N : Eshuoro , what news of Oremole ?
E S H U O R O : Take care . . .
o GUN :

Wha:t news of Oremole, slave to my servant. Did you

sleep when your butcher frightened earth with his screams

an d his legs opened foolishly on his downward way to
hell ?

of t h e F o r e s t s
ESHUORO :

Yo u can hear him. Do you all bear with this against

me ?
O GUN :

You look shaven on the skull Eshuoro . And I think once,

there were more hairs on your chest. Have no t I seen yo u

at the gatherill:g of the tribes, '\vet and naked by my
servants' hands ?

[Eshuoro takes a sudden leap at him. Thunderclap. Black-out.

Forest Head is next seen ho !ding them apart, tvithout touching them.]
F O RE S T H E A D :

Soon, I will not tell you fro n1 the hun1ans, so

closely have their habits grown on you. Did I summon this

welcoming fo r your prowess or for ends of my own ? Take
care how you tempt my vanity. Eshuoro , you came here
to bathe in blood, Ogun, you to defend the foibles of your
ward. Let this night alone, when I lay out the rites of the
dead or my anger will surpass your spleen. Aroni , you
know my will. Proceed.
E S H U O RO :
ARONI :

What will you achieve ?

It is enough that they discover their own regeneration.

E S H U O RO :

Another trick. I came here fo r vengeance.

FOREST HEAD :
ESHUORO :
A R O NI :

I know.

And I will no t leave without it.

You have your case. Let the future judge them by

reversal of its path or by stubborn continuation.

O GUN :

Will yo u forsee the many confusions Eshuoro hatches in

his mind ? Aroni, let my servant go . He has suffered enough.

A R O N I : I need hitn most of all.
He has no guilt. I, Ognn, swear that his hands were mine
in every action of his life.

o GUN :

FOREST HEAD :
ESHUORO :
A R O NI :

Will you all never rid yo urselves of these conceits !

I am impatient.

Yo u must wait, like us. In any case the Forest Spirits

have gone to the gathering of the tribes. Or di d you not

know that-Eshuo ro ?

68

A Dance

And so the future will not be chorused. I know it.

I have seen through your tricks of delay.
ARON I : I said you must wait. Forest Head has provided for the
default of your brothers. The living ones will themselves
speak for the future. For the event, they will be, like you,
ofthe Forest. Have you a better suggestion, brother fiend?
ESH UORO : [slowly.] Why? Why are you so ready with a
solution?
FOREST HEAD : Was it not the same remedy with which you
boldly and with confidence approached us? Was it not to
this end that you frightened away all those who would not
attend the welcome to speak on your behalf? Since when
was I smitten with deafness or blindness, Eshuoro ?
ESHUORO : I threatened none.
FOREST HEAD : Enough. Do not deny that all goes as you planned
it. [Eshuoro goes out.] But only because it is my wish. And
so we all must be content. Call the questioner and let no
one foully intervene for the furthering of his cause.
ESHUO RO :

[Back-scene lights up gradually to reveal a dark, wet, atmosphere

dripping moisture, and soft, moist soil. A palm-tree sways at a
low angle, broken but still alive. Seemingly lightning-reduced
stumps. Rotting wood all over the ground. A mound or two here
and there. Footfalls are mrdfled. First, there is total stillness,
emphasized by the sound ofmoisture dripping to the ground.
Forest Head is sitting on a large stone, statuesque, the
Questioner stands beside him. Aroni is no longer to be seen.
The Dead Woman enters, dea'd as on.first appearance. She
behaves exactly as before, hesitant, seemingly lost.]

Who sent you?

I am certain she had no womb, but I think
It was a woman.
QUESTIONE R : Before your time?
Was it before your time?
QUESTI ONER :

DEAD WOMAN :

of t h e F o r e s t s
DEAD WOMAN : I have

come to ask that of

The knowing ones. My knowledge is
The hate alone. The little ball of hate
Alone consumed me. Wet runnels
Of the earth brought me hither.
Call Forest Head. Say someone comes
For all the rest. Say someone asks
Was it for this, for this,
Children plagued their mothers?
Q UESTIONER : A mother, and in haste?
Were there no men? No barren women,
Aged and toothless women?
What called you forth beyond the backyard fence?
Beyond the cooking pots? What made you deaf
To the life that begged within you?
Had he no claim?
DEAD W O M AN : For him. It was for him.
QUESTIONER : You should have lived for him. Did you dare
Snatch death from those that gasped for breath?
DEAD WOMAN : My weakness, Forest Head. I was a woman
I was weak.
QUESTIO NER : And the other. The one who sent you.
The one you call a wombless woman
Was she weak?

[ The woman is silent.]

Every day. Every hour. Where will it end?

Child, there is no choice but one of suffering
And those who tread the understreams
Add ashes to the hairs
Of Forest Father. Rest awhile.
The beings of the Forest have been called
'
To dance the welcome, to quiet your spirit
Torn loosely by the suddenness. And roots

FOREST HEAD :

A D a n ce

70

Have brought us news of another son

And he has come a longer way, almost
They murmur, from quite another world.

[ The Dead Man, after a still silence, erzters.]

Three lives I led since first I went away

But still my first possesses me
The pattern is unchanged.
QUESTIONE R : You who enter sleek and well fed
Have you, at least, a tale of
Pleasure and content?
DEAD MAN : My father said, and his great father
Before him, ifyou fmd no rest, go home
And they will know you.
Kind friends, take me to Forest Head.
FOREST HEAD : I knew you, Mulieru . . .
DEAD MAN : Then you are Forest Head. When I died
And still they would not let my body rest ;
When I lived, and they would not let me be
The man I felt, cutting my manhood, first
With a knife, next with words and the dark \
Spit of contempt, the voice at my shoulder said,
Go seek out Forest Head. If I am home, then
I have come to sleep.
QUES TIONE R : When the fattened calfcomplains ofhunger
May one not fear his brain is seized
With fever?
FOREST HEAD : Hush ! Mulieru, I khew you
In the days of pillaging, in the days
Of sudden slaughter, and the parting
Of child and brother. I knew you
In the days of grand destroying
And you a part of the waste.
Mulieru, you were one ofthose who journeyed
DEAD M A N :

of t h e F o r e s t s

71

In the market-ships of blood.

You were sold Mulieru, for . . .

[who has been consulting his barks.]

. a flask of rum.
am home
Ifit was I Mulieru, who
Rowed the slave-ship to the beating
Of the lash, the sea has paid its debt.
QUESTIONER : Your wise men, casting bones of oracle
Promised peace and profit
New knowledge, new beginnings after toil
Mulieru, sleek and fat, and skin-mellowed Mulieru
Was there not fruit and com-wine at the end?
DEAD M A N : Flesh there is upon my bones
As the skin is flesh-filled on the bones
Ofevery gelded pig.
QUESTIONER :

. .

DEAD MAN : Then I

[ The Questioner approaches, touches him, presses his skirt a11d

withdraws his hand in sudden disgust, wiping it on the soil.]

Three hundred rings have formed

Three hundred rings within that bole
Since Mulieru went away, was sold away
And the tribe was scattered
Three hundred moultings of
The womb-snake of the world
And does the son return now
Empty-handed?
FOREST HEAD : Enough. Enough.
The priest was burnt, and do you ask
What became ofhis beard?
QUESTIONE R : Three lives he boasted of, and each
A certain waste, foolishly cast aside.
Ha_s he learnt the crime oflaziness?
What did he prove, from the first when,
Power at his grasp, he easily

QUESTIONER:

A D a n ce

72

Surrendered his manhood. It was surely

The action of a fool. What did he prove?
And does he come whining here for sleep?
Let him wander a hundred further . . .

[Eilter Aroni, looking puzzled.

Reaches suddenly and rips off the Questioner's mask. It is
Eshuoro, and he immediately rushes off. There is only
amusement 011 theface ofForest Head.]
I was sure I recognized a similarity in venom, but I did
not think even Eshuoro would dare.
O G U N : [entering.] For my part I have played fairly.
FOREST HEAD : I know it. Nothing is affected. But where is my
Questioner? No, it matters no longer. It is dme we had
the welcome. Let the earthly protagonists be called, and
see that the Interpreter is present.
ARONI :

[Low music ofIboflutes in the background. Enter the

Interpreter leading Demoke, Rola, Adenebi, resignation on each
face as they were last seenfollowing Obaneji.]
Let the one whose incompletion denies him rest be patient
till the Forest has chorused the Future through lips of earth
beings.

[At this, the Dead Man makes a dumb distressed protest, but
Aroni leads him off.
Forest Head subjects the Interpreter to severe scrutiny.]
FOREST HEAD : [evmtually.] You are not the Interpreter I knew.
Like the others, he went to . . .
The gathering of the tribes, do I not know it?
INTERPRETER : I am his acolyte. I shall do my best.
FOREST HEAD : Note that I have my eyes on you. IfEshuoro
sent you . . .
I N TERPRETER :
FOREST HEAD :

[Eshuoro enters, sulkily.]

ESHUOR O :

Eshuoro needs no slaves to fulfil his designs.

do not do your own slaving-at

FOREST H E A D : Then mind you

f th e Fo rcs ts

73

my bidding. I am the rock of patience, but my bosom is hard.

[Re-enter Aroni.]

Aroni, relieve this woman of her burden and let

the tongue ofthe unborn, stilled for generations, be
loosened.

FOREST HEAD :

[Dead Woman is led offby Aroni.

Soft rhythmic drumming accompanies Forest Head's last
instruction. The Interpreter moves and masks the three
protagonists. The mask-motif is as their state ofmind-resigned
passivity. Once masked, each begins to move round in a slowly
widening circle, but they stop to speak, and resume their sedate
pace as they chorus the last words.]
FOREST HEAD : [ When the three are masked.]
I take no part, but listen. Ifshadows,
Future shadows form in rain-water
Held in hollow leaves, this is the moment
For the welcome of the dead.

[Goes to his seat, impassive.

Enter the Dead Woman, unpregnant, leading the Half-Child
by the hand. As each spirit is summoned, one ofthe human three
becomes agitated, possessed and then pronounces.]
INTERPRETER : [calls.] Spirit of the Palm !
SPIRIT OF THE PALM : White skeins wove

me, I, Spirit of the Palm

Now course I red.
I who suckle blackened hearts, know
Heads will fall down,
Crimson in their bed !

[ The Half-Child, startled, tries tofind out which ofthem it was

that spoke. Failing, he lets go ofthe Dead Woman's hand, leaves
her side. A Figure in Red appears, and begins to walk deliberately
in hisfootprints. The Half-Child crosses to the opposite side, digs
a little hole in the ground, and begins to play a game of'sesan'.
He has no soonerflicked thefirst seed than the Figure in Red squats

A D a n ce

74

behind him and leans over tojoin in the game. The Half-Child
immediately gets up, the Figure in Redfollowing. The Half-Child
seems to appealfor help mutelyfrom those around him, but they
stand silent. The Figure in Red keeps close behind him. Downcast,
the Half-Child returns to his game, speaking as he goes.]
I who yet await a mother
Feel this dread,
Feel this dread,
I who flee from womb
To branded womb, cry it now
I'll be born dead
I'll be born dead.
INTERPRETER : Spirit of the Dark !
SPIRIT OF DARKNE S S : More have I seen, I, Spirit of the Dark,
Naked they breathe within me, foretelling now
How, by the dark ofpeat and forest
They'll be misled
And the shutters of the leaves
Shall close down on the doomed
And naked head.

HALF-CHILD :

HALF-CHILD :

[softly, without detractingfrom the intmsity ofhis game.]

Branded womb, branded womb . . .

SPIRIT O F THE PALM : White skeins WOVe me.
SPIRIT OF DARKNESS : Peat and forest.
INTERPRETE R : Spirit of Precious Stones !
SPIRIT OF PRECIOUS STONES : Still do I draw them, down
'
Into the pit that glitters, I
Spirit of gold and diamonds
Mine is the vain light courting death
A-ah ! Blight this eye that threaded
Rocks with light, earth with golden lodes
Traitor to the guardian tribe, tum
Tum to lead !

of t h e Fo r e s t s

75

HALF-CHILD : Branded womb, branded womb.

S PIRIT OF THE PALM : White skeins wove me.
SPIRIT OP DARKNES S : Peat and forest.
SPIRIT OF PRECIOUS STONE S : Courting death.
INTERPRETER : The Pachyderms !
SPIRIT OF THE PA CHYDERMS : Blood that rules the sunset, bathe

This, our ivory red

Broken is the sleep of giants
Wanton raiders, ivory has a point
Thus, thus we bled.
HALF-CHILD : Branded womb, branded womb.
SPIRIT OF THE PALM : White skeins wove me.
SPIRIT OF DA RKNES S : Peat and forest.
S PIRIT OF PRECIOUS STONES : Courting death.
SPIRIT OF THE P A CHYDERMS : Thus we bled.
INTERPRETE R : Spirit of the Rivers !
S PIRIT OF THE RIVER S : from Limpopo to the Nile coils but one

snake
On mud banks, and sandy bed
I who mock the deserts, shed a tear
Ofpity to form palm-ringed oases
Stain my bowels red !

[Silence. All movement stops exceptfor the Half-Child and the

Figure in Red playing out their game. The Figure in Redflicks
all the seeds into the hole, the Half-Child scoring none.
Triumphantly he scoops up the seeds in his hand, risesfully.
Forest Head rises, Aroni with him. There is some measure of
consternationfrom theforest spirits. He looks round to where
Eshuoro was last seen. Eshuoro is no longer there. Aroni makes
a move towards the Figure in Red, but Forest Head restrains him.
From a distance, a slow rumble,gatheringforce.]
CHORUS

O F THE WATERS : Let no man then lave his feet

In any stream, in any lake

A Dance
rapids or in cataracts
Let no woman think to bake
Her cornmeal wrapped in leaves
With water gathered of the rain
He'll think his eye deceives
Who treads the ripples where I run
In shallows. The stones shall seem
As kernels, his the presser's feet
Standing in the rich, and red, and cloying stream . . .
SPIRIT O F THE RIVER S : Then shall men say that I the Mother
Have joined veins with the Palm my Brother.
CHORUS OF THE WATERS : Let the Camel mend his leaking hump
Let the squirrel guard the hollows in the Stump.
In

[ The distant noisegrows more insistent. What appears to be a

cloud ofdust begins to rise steadily, darkening the scene. Aroni
moves with sudden determination towards the Figure in Red, but
the Interpreter begins a sudden dance which comes between them,
and Aroni isforced to retreat.]

Spirit of the Sun ! Spirit of the Sun !

Red is the pit of the sun's entrails, and I
Who light the crannies of the bole
Would speak, but shadows veil the eye
That pierces with the thorn. I know the stole
That warms the shoulders of the moon.
But this is not its shadow. And I trace
No course that leaves a cloud. The Sun cries Noon
Whose hand is it that covers up his face !

INTERPRETE R :

SPIRIT OF THE S U N :

[ Theforest spirits murmur together on one side, Aroni and

Forest Head confer on the other.]

Who are you?

Why do you blanket earth and swarm
Like molten rocks?
SPIRIT OF VOLCANOE S : Nipples I engender, scattered
FOREST HEAD :

f the Fo rests

Through the broad breast of the earth,

I, Spirit of erupting mow1tains
But I am not now winded. I have not belched
These twenty hours or more. I have spat
No hot ashes in the air.
FOREST HEAD : If the hills are silent, who arc these,
If the sun is full and the winds are still
Whose hand is this that reaches from the grave?
A NT LEADER : We take our colour from the loam
And blindness hits them, and they tread us
Underfoot.
FOREST H EA D : Are you my sons?
ANT LEADER : We are the blazers of the trail
Ifyou are Forest Father, we think
We are your sons.
FOREST HEAD : But who are you?
ANT L EADER : We take our colour from the fertile loam
Our numbers from the hair-roots of the earth
And terror blinds them. They know
We are the children of earth. They
Break our skin upon the ground, fearful
That we guard the wisdom ofEarth,
Our Mother.
FOREST HEAD : Have you a grievance?
ANT LEADER : None Father, except great clods of earth
Pressed on our feet. The world is old
But the rust of a million years
Has left the chains unloosened.
FOREST HEA D : Are you not free?
ANT LEADER : Freedom we have
Like the hunter on a precipice
'
And the horns of a rhinoceros
Nuzzling his buttocks.

77

A D a n ce
Do you not walk? Talk? Bear
And suckle children by the gross?
ANT lEADER : Freedom indeed we have
To choose our path
To turn to the left or the right
Like the spider in the sand-pit
And the great ball of eggs
Pressing on his back.
FOREST HEA D : But who are you?
FOREST HEA D :

[ Tl1e leader retreats, and another takes his place.]

I thought, staying this low,

They would ignore me. I am the one
That tried to be forgotten.
ANOTHER : I am the victim of the careless stride.
ANOTHER: I know the path was thin, a trickle
In the marsh. Yet we mowed the roots
Our bellies to the ground.
FOREST HEA D : Have you a Cause, or shall I
Preserve you like a riddle?
ANT lEADER : We are the ones remembered
When nations build . . .
ANOTHER :
with tombstones.
ANOTHER : We are the dried leaves, impaled
On one-eyed brooms.
ANOTHER: We are the headless bodies when
The spade ofprogress delves.
A N OTHER : The ones that never loked up when
The wind turned suddenly, erupting
In our heads.
ANOTHER : Dovn the axis of the world, from
The whirlwind to the frozen drifts,
We are the ever legion of the world,
Smitten, for-'the good to come'.
A NT :

. .

of t h e F o r e s t s

79

Once my eyes were earthworms

Dragging in my tears.
ARONI : [shouting.] What is this? For what cursed future
Do you rise to speak?
ANT LEADER : Then the ring of scourges was complete
And my hair rose on its tail
Like scorpions.
ANT LEADER :

[ They vanish. The Figure in Redgoes resolutely to Forest Head

and confronts him. Forest Head appears hesitant, even reluctant.
Eventually, he gestures brusquely to the Interpreter.]
Unmask them. The Half-Child has played out his
game and lost. Let them see the rest with their natural eyes,
their human sight.

FOREST HEAD :

[ The Interpreter unmasks all three. Enter thefirst ofthe Triplets.

It is the lower trunk ofa body, wi"th arms. Loose, uncontrolled
manner.]
FIRST TRIPLET : [speaking as he comes in.] Has anyone found the
Means? I am the End that willjustify it.

[ The Interpreter turns quickly and does a round of 'ampe' with

him. Enter second Triplet. An over-blown head, drooling.]
I am the Greater Cause, standing ever ready,
excusing the crimes of today for tomorrow's mirage.
Hungry I come, hearing there was a feast for the dead . . .
Am I expected?

SECOND TRIPLET:

[ The Interpreter and the Second Triplet ' ampe', then the
Interpeter with the First, and then the two Triplets together.]
SECOND TRIPLET : [stops suddenly. Goes to where Demoke, etc.,
stand huddled together. Sniffs them, turns them to the b1terpreter.]
But who are these?
They are the lesser criminals, pursuing the
destructive path of survival. Weak, pitiable criminals,
hiding their cowardice in sudden acts ofbluster. And you
obscenities . . .

FOREST HEAD :

A D a n ce

So

[ Waves his hand towards the Triplets, who shriek and dance in
delight.] You perversions are born when they acquire power
over one another, and their instincts are fulfuled a
thousandfold, a hundred thousandfold. But wait, there is
still the third triplet to come. You have as always, decided
your own fates. Today is no different from your lives.
I merely sit and watch.

[Enter the Third Triplet,Janged and bloody.]

THIRD TRIPLE T : I find I am Posterity.

Can no one see on what

milk I have been nourished?

[ The Figure in Red rips offhis head-cover. It is Eshuoro.

Reaches a handfor the Half-child. Ogun stepsforward.]

You fooled no one.

Beware. I won him fairly.
o G U N : You play too many roles Eshuoro. Watch out for the
mask that is lined with scorpions. [Goes out.]
O GUN:

E S H U OR O :

[Eshuoro again stretches a hand towards the Half-Child, who

tries to go to the Dead Woman.]

HALf-CHILD : I found an

egg, smooth as a sea-pebble.

Took it home with him,
Warmed it in his bed of rushes
And in the night the egg was hatched
And the serpent came and swallowed him.

ESHUO R O : [gleifully.]

[ Tize Half-Child begins to spin round and round, till he is

quite giddy. Stops suddenly.]

Still I fear the fateq bearing

Still I circle yawning wombs.
DEAD WOMAN : Better not to know the bearing
Better not to bear the weaning
I who grow the branded navel
Shudder at the visitation
Shall my breast again be severed
Again and yet again be severed

H A L f- C HILD :

of t h e F o r e s t s
From its right of sanctity?
Child, your hand is pure as sorrow
Free me of the endless burden,
Let this gourd, let this gourd
Break beyond my hearth . . .

81

[ The Half-Child continues slowly towards the Mother, Eshuoro

imperiously offering his hand,furious as each step takes the cl1ild
nearer her. Looks up sharply and.finds Ogun 011 the other side of
the woman, with hand similarly outstretched. Snaps his.fingers
suddenly at the Interpreter. A clap ofdrums, and the Interpreter
begins another round of'ampe' with the Third Triplet. The
Woman's hand and the Half-Child's are just about to meet
when this happens, and the child turns instantly, attracted by the
game. The 'ampe' gradually increases tempo among the three
_Triplets. The Interpreter throws Qffhis mask, retJeals himselfas
Eshuoro'sJester. He draws the child into a game of 'ampe'.
When the Half-Child is totally disarmed by theJester, Eshuoro
picks him up suddenly and throws him towards the Third Triplet
who makes to catch him on the point oftwo knives as in the
dance ofthe child acrobats. Rola screams, the Child is tossed up
by the Third Triplet who again goes through the same motion,
the other two Triplets continuing thefurious ' ampe' round him
and yelling at the top oftheir ''oices. Demoke, Rola and Adenebi
again cluster together. The Half-Child is now tossed back to
Eshuoro, and suddenly Demoke dashesforward to intercept.
Esl111oro laughs, pretends to throw the child back, Demoke
dashes offonly tofind that he still retains the child. The
Interpreter, Eshuoro and the Third Triplet all evading the
knift-points at the last moment and catching the Half-Child
in the crook oftheir elbows.
They keep up this gamefor a briefperiod, with Demoke
running between them, until Ogun appears behind the Interpreter,
pulls him asidejust as the child is thrown towards him, makes

82

A D a n ce

the catch himselfpassing it instantly to Demoke who has come

nmning as before.
All action stops again, including thefirst and second Triplets
who have never ceased to 'ampe'. They all look at Demoke,
who stands conjiiSed, not knowing what the next step should be.
He decides event11ally to restore the child to the Dead Woman,
and attempts to do so. Eshuoro partially blocks his way and
appeals to Forest Head. Ogun appeals against him.]
FOREST HEAD : [more to himself.] Trouble me no further. The
fooleries of beings whom I have fashioned closer to me
weary and distress me. Yet I must persist, knowing that
nothing is ever altered. My secret is my eternal burdento pierce the encrustations of soul-deadening habit, and bare
the mirror of original nakedness-knowing full well, it is
all futility. Yet I must do this alone, and no more, since to
intervene is to be guilty of contradiction, and yet to remain
altogether unfelt is to make my long-rumoured ineffectuality
complete ; hoping that when I have tortured awareness
from their souls, that perhaps, only perhaps, in new
beginnings . . . . Aroni, does Demoke know the meaning
ofhis act?
. u o :-< r : Demoke, you hold a doomed thing in your hand. It is no
light matter to reverse the deed that was begun many lives
ago. The Forest will not let you pass.

[ The Woman appeals, mutely to Demoke. All eyes are intent

upon Demoke 11t1til he makes up his mind; gives the child to the
Dead Woman. Immediacely, Aroni leads out the Dead
Woman with the Half-Child. Forest Head takes a.final
look at the gathering, goes off. Esh11oro gives a loud yell of
triumph, mshes off-stage, accompanied by hisjester. The
Tripletsfollow gleefully.
A silhouette ofDemoke's totem is seen. The village people
dancing round it, also in silhouette, in silence. There is no

of t h e

Fo rests

contact between them and the Forest ones. Theformer infoct

are not aware ofthe other beings. Eshuoro'sJester leaps on
stage, bearing the sacrificial basket which he clamps 011 to
Demoke's head; performing a wild dance infront ofhim.
Eshuoro re-enters, bearing a heavy club. Dance ofthe Unwilling
Sacrifice, in which Eshuoro and hisJester head Demoke
relentlessly towards the totem and the silent dancing.figures.
Rola and Adenebi are made to sprinkle libation on the scene,
continuously as in a trance. Demoke, headed towards his
handiwork isJaded away, and re-appears at thefoot ofthe
totem, the crowd parting in silence. He begins to climb, hampered
further by the load on his head. There are only the drums,
Eshuoro and hisJester have stopped dancing. Slowly, Demoke
disappearsfrom view, and the crowd cheer wildly, without
sound. Eshuoro rushes out in afrenzy. Returns at the totem
with afire-brand; sets.fire to the tree. Enter Ogun, catches
Demoke as hefalls. Black-out. Then thefront gets increasingly
lighter as Eshuoro returns and dances out hisfrenzy, lashing his
Jester with a branch.
Noise ofthe beatersfrom a distance. Dawn is breaking. Ogun
enters bearing Demoke, eyeing the sky anxiously. He is armed
with a gun and cutlass. The sun creeps through; Ogun gently
lays down Demoke, leaves his weapons beside him, .flees.
Eshuoro is still dancing as theforemost ofthe beaters break on the
scene and then heflees after hisJester.
It is nowfully dawn. Agboreko and the Old Man enter, Murete,
very-drunk, dragging them on. The sound ofthe main body of
beaters with the drummers continues in the distance.]
MURBTB: Here, I said it was here.
AGBOREKO : I will not forget my promise.

[ The Old Man rushes towards Demoke, lying inert, raises him
to a sitting position. Demoke opens his eyes.]

OLD MAN: Safe ! What did you see ? What did you see?

A D a tJ c e

Let them be, old man. When the crops have been
gathered it will be time enough for the winnowing of the
grains. Prov . . .
M U RETE : [drunkenly.] Proverbs to bones and silence.
A GBOREK O : It is time to think of the fulfilment of vows.
OLD M A N : [to Demoke.] We searched all night. Knowing who
your companion was . . .
A GBOREKO : Madame Tortoise . . . the one who never dies . . .
never . . .
OLD M A N : And then I was troubled by the mystery of the fourth.
The council orator I knew. And Madame Tortoise. But the
fourth . . . [he looks round.] You are back to three. Did the
other reveal himself?
DEMOKE : The father of ghommids. Forest Head hirnsel
AGBOREK O : At first we thought it would be Eshuoro, tricking
you onwards like the echo in the woods. And then I
thought, Murete cannot be silent only from fear. It must be
Forest Head himsel
OLD MAN : Forest Head ! And did you see the lame one?
A G B O REKO :

[Demoke nods.]

Fools we were to pit our weakness against the cunning of

Aroni, chasing souls whom he was resolved to welcome.
A G B O RE K O : We paid dearly for this wisdom newly acquired.
OLD M A N : Cruelly. Look, look at me. Behind every sapling,
there was the sudden hand of Aroni, and he aims well.

[Gingerlyfeels a weal across hisface.]

There was a path that brought us here. Could not

DEM O K E :

Murete fmd it?

We would have done better without him. Sometimes
I suspect his drunkenness. We have tasted the night thickness
of the forest like the nails of a jealous wife.

OLD M A N :

[Agboreko nudges the Old Man. He becomes suddenly

uncomfortable, hems and coughs.]

of t h e F o r e s t s
Demoke, we made sacrifice and demanded the path of
expiation . . .
DEM OKE : Expiation? We three who lived many lives in this one
night, have we not done enough? Have we not felt enough
for the memory of our remaining lives?
OLD M A N : What manner of a night was it? Can you tell us that?
In this wilderness, was there a kernel oflight?
OLD MAN :

[Rola comesforrvard. She looks chastened.]

I did not think to find her still alive, this one who
outlasts them all. Madame Tortoise . . .
DEMOKE : Not any more. It was the same lightning that seared us
through the head.
A GBOREK O : [snorts.] Does that mean something wise, child?
[Sneaking up to Demoke.] Of the future, did you learn
anything ?
O L D M A N : [comes up and pulls him away.] 'When the crops have
been gathered . . .'
A GBOREKO : [reproved. With ponderousfinality.] Proverb to bones
and silence.
A G B OREKO :

[A briefsilence.]
[ Then, spoken in a sense ofepilogue, Igbale music gently in the
background.]

Darkness enveloped me, but piercing

Through I came
Night is the choice for the fox's dance.
Child of the Moon's household am I.
AGBOREKO : I made a sponge of nettle pods.
The crocodile scratching taught me then
My veins run with the oil of palms.
OLD M A N : The glare of the Lion turned him blind.
The enemy's death-blow broke his arm.
Ruler ofthe Forest depths am I.
ROLA : Witches spread their net, trapped emptiness
DEMOKE :

86

A D

a 11 c e

f th e

Fo

Does the tear in the wind's eye pause to dry?

Palm of the storm's hand am I.
ADENEB I : When the rock fell, alone I caught the boulders.
My saddle is the torrent of the flood .
Serpent of the ocean depths am I.
DBMOKE : And the lightning made his bid-in vain
When she cooks, is the cloud ever set on fire?
I lodge below, with the secrets of Earth.

[ Up Igbale drums, strongly.]

THE END

re s ts

The 'Dance for the Half-Child' as it was performed

in the 1 960 production

DEAD WOMA N : Better not to know the bearing

Better not to bear the weaning

I who grow the branded navel

Shudder at the visitation
Shall my breast again be severed
Again and yet again be severed
From its right and sanctity?
Child, your hand is pure as sorro.v
Free me of the endless burden,
Let this gourd, let this gourd
Break beyond my hearth . . .

[ The Half-Child continues slowly towards the Mother, I::slmoro

imperiously offering his hand.jurious as each step takes the child
nearer her. Looks up sharply andfinds Ogun on the other side of
the woman, with hand similarly outstretched. Snaps hisfingers
suddenly at the Interpreter. A clap ofdmms, and the Interpreter
begins another round of ampe with the Third Triplet. The
Woman's hand and the Half-Child's arejust about to meet
when this happens, and the child turns instantly, attracted by the
,flame. Hanging carelesslyfrom the hand ofthe Half-Child is
the woodfigure ofan ibeji which he has clutchedfrom hisfirst
appearance. Eshuoro waits until he is totally mesmerized by the
.Jester's antics, snatches it offhim and throws it to the Third
Triplet. Itjerks the Half-Child awake aud he runs after it.
Tird Triplet, the Interpreter and Eshuoro toss the ibcji to o11c
another while the child runs between them trying to recover it, bill
they ouly taunt him with it and throw it over his head. The

88

A D a n ce

First and Second Triplets keep up their incessant ampe. The

Imerpreter is standing near Demoke, and suddenly he pulls the
Interpreter aside, catches the ibeji. Eshuoro moves at once to the
Half-Child but he runs to Demoke and clings to him.
Everything stops. Eshuoro silently appeals to Forest Head, Ogun
appeals against him.
FOREST HEAD : [more to himself] Trouble me no further. The
fooleries of beings whom I have fashioned closer to me
weary and distress me. Yet I must persist, knowing that
nothing is ever altered. My secret is my eternal burden
to pierce the encrustations of soul-deadening habit, and
bare the mirror of original nakedness-knowing full well,
it is all futility. Yet I must do this alone, and no more, since
to intervene is to be guilty ofcontradiction, and yet to
remain altogether unfelt is to make my long-rumoured
ineffectuality complete ; hoping that when I have
tortured awareness from their souls, that perhaps, only
perhaps, in new beginning s . . . Aroni, does Demoke
know the meaning ofhis act?

[Exit Forest Head, displaying a long-suffering irritation.]

ARONI : Demoke, you hold a doomed thing in your hand.

It is no
light matter to reverse the deed that was begun many lives
ago. The Forest will not let you pass.

[The Dead Woman appeals, mutely to Demoke. All eyes are

intent on Demoke until he makes 11p his mind. Restores the
'ibeji' to the Half-Child. Again Eshuoro turns to Forest Head
but he is no longer there. He looks to Arot1ifor interference but
Aroni refuses to notice any more, sits down where Forest Head
sat earlier. The Interpreter signals urgently off-stage, and
.immediately a group offorest creatures enter, all replicas ofthe
Jester, do an atilogwu-ordered dance towards the Half-Child.
Ogun snatches a cutlass, Eshuoro a Club, and they clash briefly,
across the dancers. As thejesters stamp towards the Half-Child

of t h e F o r e s t s
again, Demoke picks him up and seats him on one shoulder, tries
to move towards the Dead Woman standing with eager arms
outstretched. They manoeuvre Demoke away at every attempt
he makes. On one side Eshuoro swinging his club, prowling,
tremblingfrom Tuad tofoot in elementalJury. Ogun on the
other, watchful, cutlass at the ready. Both are kept apart by
the dancers only, andfrom time to time they clash, always
briefly, and they spring apart again.
It begins to lighten. In the distance,faint sounds ofthe beaters
come over the music oftheforest drums. Demoke gets wearier
and wearier, begins to sag. At everyfalter theJesters move
towards him to snatch their quarry but he recovers.
The scene brightens. The Triplets scatter. Aroni looks at the
sky, slips off. Ogun and Eshuoro lose control, fly at each other,
seemingly blind. They miss, begin tofeelfor the other's position,
flailing wildly. Coming suddenly on each other, they lock
together, bear each other out ofsight.
The Forest rhythm becomes thoroughly confused with the
beaters' music and shortly after, theJesters stop totally, bewildered.
The First Jester looks at the sky,jlees, and theyfollow. Demoke
sags to his knees, the Dead Woman runs to him, snatches thefalling
Half-Child and is swallowed by theforest. Demoke collapses
on the ground.
It is now fully dawn.
Entry ofAgboreko and the Old Man, led by Murete.]
-a l

Fin.