Professor Fayemi's sitting-room that same night. Enter Ibiye, his wife.

IBIYE: It is a few minutes to midnight but my husband is yet to return from the office. He has left me marooned in this lonely house like a sailor shipwrecked on an uninhabited island, leaving me alone with my thoughts, my hopes and anxiety which every woman feels in the absence of her husband. He did this knowing full well that I have no child to comfort me in these long hours of waiting. Why does my husband behave so unfairly? Why does he go out with the crowing of the cock and return home in the dead of the night? Is it because I'm barren? Is it because God hasn’t answered my prayers yet? Ha, what won’t I give to have a child that I could call my own! A baby that I could nurse with love and feed with the milk of my ripe breasts. What won’t I give?

(She sinks into a sofa and begins to sob. Enter Fayemi, takes a look at his sobbing wife and

hisses angrily.).

PROF.: What is it, woman? Why do you disturb the peace and tranquility of my house with cries of lamentation and sobs of despair? Have you no respect for place, time and environment? Why do you rend the peace of this occult hour with your loud, senseless sobs?

IBIYE; (Wiping her face hurriedly.) Forgive me, my husband. When loneliness presses the hopelessness of my state upon my senses, I can’t but give vent to my sorrow in sobs and tears. But why do you, my husband, leave our home with the crowing cock only to return with the roosting fowls?

PROF.: (Bursting into anger.) You barren fig tree that is covered with green leaves but yields forth not a single fruit! You shameless hag that hides the disgrace of her nakedness in expensive attires of lace and soft silk. You cursed of all women, whose womb cannot yield forth anything but emptiness and frustration. Who made you the timer of my movement? Isn’t it enough that I put up with you, hopeless woman? Isn’t it enough that I have to accommodate such a luckless woman as you in my house? What is it that you want? Am I not the owner of my time, and am I not allowed to use it as I like? Why must I leave frustration in the office only to meet despair in my house? (He turns towards the door.) Good night, woman. I leave the house to you and your senseless sobs.

(Exit the Prof.)