One Virgin, Many Deaths

A Stageplay

By Geoff Adeleye (Nigeria)

Act 3, Scene 1

          

ACTIII
                                          Scene I
                              A room in BELARU’s house
                        RENATE curled up on a sofa, sobbing
                                       Enter BELARU
BELARU: How do you delight in weeping?
RENATE: No, not so father. The death of Badeja, a scourge, impinges –
   a constrained penance, - oh, no; I can’t forbear to live without
   thinking of him. I feel my world a vacuum.
BELARU: Too much weeping is hypocritical. Only the enemies weep
   too hard, too long, too, bitter.
RENATE: Ah, father, did I wish him dead?
BELARU: Guff!                                                      [Exit BELARU
                                                     [knocking]
RENATE: Who’s that?
MOBOLA [within]: It’s we.
RENATE: Who are we?
MOBOLA [within]: The maids of your lord’s house.
RENATE: Have I got one?
TELEBO [within]: You’ve.
MOBOLA [within]: May we enter?
RENATE: From where?
MOBOLA [within]: Palace.
RENATE: Request granted.
                     Enter MOBOLA and TELEBO
TELEBO: Great Queen of Betuda!
MOBOLA: Great!
TELEBO: Get up, you’re honoured!
RENATE Who am I?
MOBOLA: Do not imagine. Your glory like a searchlight had found
   you out and prepared you a bigger fortune.
RENATE: Was there any before?
TELEBO: Making the coast clear not a fortune?
MOBOLA: No more protest, no more resistance, but obedience
   and compliance.
TELEBO: Your past deeds, harrowing, are forgiven, and so you
   are exonerated from all guilt: your lord aches for you wart and all.
RENATE: The feel is eerie, all words heard sounded unfamiliar.
MOBOLA: Yes, of course. In the first place, you don’t deserve it.
TELEBO: Go in, and be spruced up!
RENATE: For what?
MOBOLA: Get a mirror, look at your face and you’ll see what tears
   had reduced it to, looking more of a crone.
TELEBO: Perhaps you still decline the glorious, fame-crowned offer?
RENATE: No – I can no longer any more.
TELEBO: Good! Your sense had returned to your head bouncing
   back from wall of ignorance.                               [Exit RENATE
MOBOLA [exhales heavily]: Oh, what reasonable fool!
TELEBO: What a weird maid whose feet were bathed in pool of blood!
MOBOLA: A ritzy ceremony!
                            Re-enter RENATE
RENATE: Mark my look.
TELEBO: Consummately exquisite!
MOBOLA: No man sees you and his head won’t swell and burst!
TELEBO: Even an impotent man will definitely revive! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
RENATE: Do you mock me?
TELEBO: No! We simply appreciate your beauty.
MOBOLA: I’m sure God had to overstress Himself, nearly burn out
   His brain, designing and sculpturing you. God, You’re the best Sculptor!
TELEBO: Let’s go. Our time is up. [RENATE waves them to move
   forward] You shall neither walk behind us nor ahead of us. We shall
   walk abreast while you in the middle, providing White House security. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
MOBOLA: That’s we shall die saving you.                  [Exeunt]