The Pit of Heaven

The Pit of Heaven

A play set during the time of the Crusade of King Louis IX of France (i.e. the Seventh Crusade) sometime in the year 1248. The action takes place first in a hole in Egypt (where French forces have previously landed to fight Saracens) and then later in various locations in the communities of a Christian knight and a Saracen knight.

Characters

Act One	Act Two
Christian (French) Knight Saracen (Arab Muslim) Knight	Isabel - the Christian's Wife Iman - the Saracen's Wife Friends of both knights Community members of both knights Religious leaders of both knights

Act One

Scene One

The setting is the bottom of a ten foot deep hole. The sounds of battle - clanging swords and shields, shouts and cries, whinnies and death throes - are heard, at first fairly close, but as the first few lines are spoken, these sounds move and fade, as with distance. A Christian knight and a Saracen knight, both fully dressed in their respective battle regalia, have just fallen together into this unseen pit as they had fought with each other. Both are dirty and bloodied from battle. As the curtain rises (or the lights come up) they each untangle themselves from the other in a rage, scrambling up from the floor of the hole, neither wanting to be the second one standing, so as to give advantage to the other. They then face off to each other, their weapons lost to them, having dropped them above as they fell, staring each other down.

The Christian is very sure of himself, and his every movement is very calculated, very stately. Honor and duty are very important to him. His armor and other clothing are of good make, but not flashy - they are functional, but not showy. His duty is to his God and to his King, and to serve both with his life, if necessary. His face gives the impression of an iron will.

The Saracen is also very sure of himself in his own way. He wears no armor, as he believes that when the day for him to die comes, no armor in the world will stop the will of Allah. His movements are very fluid, very dexterous. His face gives the impression that his nimble movement is surpassed only by his alertness.

CHRISTIAN: What witchery is this, Saracen?

SARACEN: What?

CHRISTIAN: What Devil's pit have you drawn me into?

SARACEN: I have done no such thing, Christian.

CHRISTIAN: [Looking and moving around, as if for a way out] You lie, Saracen. You cast me in here, coward. Now get me out.

SARACEN: Coward?

CHRISTIAN: Yes. Coward. I would have killed you, had you not opened this hole in the ground beneath me.

SARACEN: You, kill me? [Laughs] A Christian, kill me? I very well doubt it.

CHRISTIAN: We shall see, Saracen. [He begins trying to climb the wall of the pit as he continues to speak, but the rock and dirt only come loose under his weight] As soon as I find a way out of this hole, and our weapons are once again in our hands, God willing, I shall kill you.

SARACEN: I hope to Allah that I have the chance to prove you wrong.

CHRISTIAN: [Pauses, and takes a defiant stance toward the Saracen] I shall not let you eat me, God willing.

SARACEN: [In confusion] What?

CHRISTIAN: I pray God will help me to keep my strength, that you may not partake of my flesh.

SARACEN: [Disgusted] Eat you? I would not dare eat human flesh, no matter what the purpose. To eat such flesh would be unclean in the sight of Allah. [He laughs] Especially yours, Christian.

CHRISTIAN: Do you not eat your prisoners on occasion?

SARACEN: No, by Allah, no. [He spits] I cleanse my mind of the thought.

CHRISTIAN: [Looking distrustfully at the Saracen] I'll keep an eye on you just the same. [Pauses, puts hands on hips and looks to the top of the hole, as if scanning the sky] Besides, my Christian brothers will miss me after they have achieved victory. They will find me. [Shaking his head in agreement with himself] Yes, they will find me, and when they do, I will have my victory over you.

SARACEN: [Wryly] Then you will eat me, I suppose.

CHRISTIAN: [Offended, angered] In God's holy name, no!

SARACEN: It is agony to be accused of such a thing unjustly, is it not, Christian?

The Christian is stricken silent by the Saracen's bitter words, and looks away from him toward the sky, crossing his arms. The Saracen, in the uncomfortable silence, turns towards "Mecca," or the stage left side of the hole, and slowly drops to his knees.

SARACEN: This is in the hands of Allah, Christian. There is nothing either of us can do about it.

The Christian ignores the Saracen. The Saracen goes prostrate, as if to pray.

SARACEN: In the name of Allah, the Merciful, the Compassionate . . .

CHRISTIAN: [Bursts out laughing, and turns toward the Saracen] The merciful and compassionate! [Laughs again] Does Allah show you to be merciful when you slay innocent prisoners, the bodies of which fill the rivers? Does Allah show you to be compassionate, by torturing those who will not deny their faith in Christ?

SARACEN: [Rising in anger, he gets in the Christian's face] We are defending our home! You drew our blood first, you and your Christian brothers! The blood of all who have died here today is on your hands! What we do out of necessity, you do for pure enjoyment - or so it seems.

CHRISTIAN: Enjoyment!? We are here in the name of God Almighty! We have every right to do whatever it takes to regain the Holy Land in His name.

SARACEN: And we defend the Holy Land in the name of Allah! We are protecting what has been given to us!

CHRISTIAN: And we fight for what God has promised us!

The Saracen turns in frustration, then stands in contemplation, calming himself.

SARACEN: What are your prayers like, Christian?

CHRISTIAN: [Still hostile] What do you mean?

SARACEN: [Turning back toward the Christian] What do you say? How do they go?

CHRISTIAN: We are taught to pray like this, as Jesus did. [He goes down to one knee, crosses himself, and presses his hands together] Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, and . . .

SARACEN: [Interrupts, causing the Christian to look up] That could just as easily be an Islamic prayer. [Pauses a moment, then looks back to the Christian, studies him for a second, then begin gathering chunks of moss and lichen from the floor and side of the pit]

CHRISTIAN: What are you doing there, Saracen?

SARACEN: Collecting this moss here. Those wounds of yours need tending to.

CHRISTIAN: I ask again, what are you doing?

SARACEN: [Approaching him with several smallish chunks of moss in hand] Just hold still.

CHRISTIAN: [Taking a step back] I'll take no part in such sorcery.

SARACEN: Sorcery! [He stops his movement, and laughs, still holding the moss] There you go again, accusing me of witchcraft. This is no magic, fool! Just moss. See. [Holds the moss out for the Christian to see] To stop the bleeding.

CHRISTIAN: [Narrows his eyes at the Saracen distrustfully, as if sizing him up] Though I do not trust you, very well. [The Christian bares his wound, the one on his arm, and then suddenly points at the Saracen accusingly and speaks threateningly] But know this! If you have poisoned me, Saracen, you will be dead and in hell before I draw my last breath.

The Christian lowers his pointing finger, and again bares his wounded arm for the Saracen. The Saracen does not reply, but instead goes to work, applying the patches of moss to the wounds of the other's arm. The Christian then allows him to treat his leg wound as well. When the Saracen is satisfied with his work, he moves away from the Christian and wearily sits down with a sigh. The Christian, also weary and tired from the day's toil, takes a seat against the opposite wall of the pit. They sit in silence for a few seconds, the Christian looking occasionally down, somewhat nervously, at his moss treated wounds, almost as if he expects them to burst into flame at any moment. The Saracen studies the sky as the lights begin to slowly darken, darkening to twighlight brightness by the end of the scene.

SARACEN: [Breaking the silence] It will be night soon. [Pauses, turning his face back toward the Christian] Have you considered that we both may die, Christian. It may be the will of Allah that our battle shall never be fought.

CHRISTIAN: I have. Although it is not such a magnificent thought. [Pauses in contemplation] However, if it be God's will, so be it. I doubt that Death can be worse than being stuck here with you. [He laughs, a bitter, hopeless laugh with no real humor behind it]

SARACEN: [Joins the Christian with a humorless laugh of his own] That, Christian, is one thing I can agree with you on. [After their laughter dies down, wonderingly] Do you plan to sleep in your armor? It looks quite uncomfortable when you stand, and so I can't imagine how it would feel to sleep in it.

CHRISTIAN: I do not plan to sleep this night.

SARACEN: For what reason?

CHRISTIAN: I trust you not.

SARACEN: I give you my word, in Allah's name . . .

CHRISTIAN: That name means nothing to me.

SARACEN: I give you my word as a warrior, then, that until such time as we leave this hole together, I shall take no offensive measures against you.

CHRISTIAN: And I swear the same to you, as a knight. But I still shall not sleep.

SARACEN: Why?

CHRISTIAN: You may be a warrior, but you're still a Saracen. [He laughs, almost good naturedly]

SARACEN: And you're a fool. [Smiles, almost warmly, then lays down, settling himself in an attempt to be comfortable] I'm going to get some sleep, myself. If you murder me in the night, very well, for it would be my appointed time, and nothing I can do now or then will stop it. May Allah protect your soul, Christian.

CHRISTIAN: And may Jesus save yours, Saracen.

Lights fade to black.

Scene Two

Lights begin to fade in, quickly at first, then more slowly, as the sun comes up, heralding a new day. The Saracen is squatting where he slept, and having been awake for some time, is alert and wakeful. The Christian, on the other hand, is humorously sprawled, still in his armor, on the floor of the pit, snoring loudly. The Saracen looks at him occasionally, to see if he is awake yet, and finally, after a few moments, the Christian stirs, stiffly bringing himself - and his armor - to a sitting position. He is confused as to where he is, and then it dawns on him.

SARACEN: Allah has allowed yet another day to come to us, Christian.

CHRISTIAN: I fell asleep? [In wonder] And you did not kill me.

SARACEN: I am not a murderer. [Smiling] However, you almost killed me with your snoring! [Laughs]

CHRISTIAN: [Sleepily, but trying to sound dignified] I do not snore.

SARACEN: You do. Very loudly, I might add.

CHRISTIAN: My wife has never complained of it.

SARACEN: Your wife?!

CHRISTIAN: [Annoyed] Yes my wife. What of it?

SARACEN: Forgive me, I did not mean to offend. It's just that, well, I never thought of Christians as having wives. I've only known you in stories of my childhood, telling of your wickedness, and on the battle field. I mean, I knew that you must have wives, and children, but it seemed to me, somehow . . .

CHRISTIAN: That there's no way someone so intent on war and destruction could have a family life, could care enough about anything to do something so loving as to marry and raise children?

SARACEN: Yes. Exactly.

They gaze off in silence again, as if thinking of home.

SARACEN: What's her name?

CHRISTIAN: [Looking at the Saracen again] Her name? Isabel. Her name is Isabel.

SARACEN: Isabel, eh? Pretty. Strange, but pretty. Miy wife's name is Iman.

CHRISTIAN: [He repeats the name, to hear it on his own tongue] Iman. [Sighs, losing himself in thought about his own wife] What I wouldn't give to be with her right now.

SARACEN: [Distressed] With my wife?

CHRISTIAN: Huh? [Realizing his mistake] Oh! No, no, with mine. With Isabel. My mistake, forgive me. I was lost in thought.

SARACEN: Oh. [Laughs lightly]

CHRISTIAN: Why do you call your god Allah?

SARACEN: That is simple. It is the Arabic word for "God."

CHRISTIAN: Oh, I see. [After a pause] You hungry?

SARACEN: Don't remind me.

CHRISTIAN: I've got some rations here. [He searches around, and finds a pouch tied to his belt. Opening it up, he pulls out some small, hard biscuits and cheese] Hmmm. I can break the biscuits, but it might be hard to do with the cheese. [Looking at the top of the hole] If only I had a knife or something . . .

SARACEN: [He pulls a dagger from a sheath hidden in the folds of his clothing] Will this do? [He tosses the dagger at the feet of the Christian]

CHRISTIAN: [Looking at the dagger in disbelief; sobered, he speaks] You've had that this entire time, and have not tried to kill me.

SARACEN: I would never attack an unarmed man while armed myself - and although I would not have hesitated to use it in self-defense, it seems that its presence was unneeded.

CHRISTIAN: Maybe we are not so different as we would like to think. I misjudged you, Saracen.

SARACEN: And I, you. [Then, with curiosity in his voice] So, Christian, what made you come all this way, for days and days over the sea and away from Isabel? Was it just to fight us Muslims?

CHRISTIAN: I don't know. I guess at the time, I felt it was the right thing to do. I felt - or at least the priests told me - that I had been called by God to help regain the Holy Land, to retake Jerusalem and put it under Christian rule. Though I really came, I guess, to find peace of mind, a sure bet on heaven, you might say.

SARACEN: And now?

CHRISTIAN: Now - I don't know. Here, sitting in this God forsaken hole, the whole thing seems so stupid. I mean, I may never see Isabel again. [He buries his hands in his face, rubbing his eyes] Peace of mind. [Dropping his hands, he suddenly stands] Ha! Instead of peace, I have found only misery and blood. And this . . . [He starts removing his armor with desperation, frustrated] This, all this that I thought was so important . . . [He throws the armor pieces to the ground] . . . its nothing. [Looking to the sky, he cries out in frustration] What have I done to deserve this, Lord? What terrible deed have I done to incur this punishment? [Drops his head, frustrated] What am I doing? [Shakes his head in disbelief] Who am I to question God like that? Who am I to wish to know His ways?

SARACEN: That's probably the most humble thing I've heard you say, Christian, and the most wise.

Suddenly the Christian looks at the surrounding hole, from top to bottom, and bottom to top, and suddenly becomes visibly excited as he realizes a way in which he and his companion may escape their captivity of fate.

SARACEN: [In wonder] What, Christian? What is it?

CHRISTIAN: [Laughing] Pride! Arrogance!

SARACEN: [Startled] What? Have you gone mad?

CHRISTIAN: [Continuing to laugh] No, no, no! [Throws his hands up in amazement] Arrogance and pride! Why didn't we see it earlier?!

SARACEN: See what earlier? What?

CHRISTIAN: If it had not been for my pride, our pride, we could have been out of this pit long ago! Had we simply cast aside our pride, and humbled ourselves before God and each other, we could have avoided this whole thing!

SARACEN: [In confusion] How?

CHRISTIAN: This hole is too tall for either of us to reach the top . . .

SARACEN: [Looking up at the top of the hole as understanding comes over his face] . . .but if one of us was to lift the other . . .

CHRISTIAN: [Smiling] . . . then he could easily climb out, and help the other out as well. [Laughs gleefully] I think that God has taught us both something today, Saracen.

SARACEN: And I believe that Allah is well pleased that we have learned it.

They shake hands enthusiastically, smiling, like brothers or countrymen.

CHRISTIAN: There is still one problem, however.

SARACEN: What is that, Christian?

CHRISTIAN: It is the little matter of the oath I swore, that I would cause no harm to you until after we have escaped this trap. [Pauses for effect; then, smiling] I must, therefore, hereby extend that oath forever after.

SARACEN: [Smiling] And I swear the same to you.

They shake again, smiling.

CHRISTIAN: [Looking toward the sky] Then, God willing, I will depart for home very soon. On the next ship back, if possible. I feel that my Crusade for God has only just begun, here, with you. Others must be told what we have learned here.

SARACEN: I, too, will depart for home, for I feel the same. My work for Allah is to be done there, and not here in the battlefield. [Pauses, then smiles and looks toward at the opening above] Well, who lifts who?

CHRISTIAN: [Smiling and kneeling to one knee, he locks his hands together, cradled for the Saracen's foot] Don't worry, Saracen. I trust you.

The curtain falls (or the scene goes black), as the Saracen places his foot into the Christian's hand-cradle, ready to be lifted toward the top of the hole - and freedom.

Act Two

Act Two is, in a way, a series of alternating but mirror-like scenes, portraying the reaction of the communities of the Christian and the Saracen. The scenes (performed on stage right and stage left, respectively) flip back and forth, without pause, between the events surrounding the Christian and the Saracen, the last line of each scene seeming to logically lead to the conversation in the next. The lights simply fade out on one scene and fade in on the next to bring about the transition between one scene and another.

The Christian and Saracen are both, at first, met with joy by their wives and friends, but when they reveal the reason for their early return, and then when they begin preaching their new doctrine of peace and brotherhood in regard to their enemies, they are quickly shunned, first by religious men, then by their communities, and finally even their wives, who shun them mostly in fear for their own lives.

The play ends (perhaps in a third act?) with the execution deaths of both the Christian and the Saracen, after being found guilty of blasphemy and dealings with the Devil, and that sort of thing, etc., etc., by their respective religious leaders. These "execution scenes" would be the only scenes in Act Two that would happen simultaneously, and they and the play itself would end just before the guillotine's blade was dropped, the trap door under the hang-noose was tripped, the executioner's sword was swung, or what ever appropriate execution was about to be performed, upon the poor Christian and poor Saracen.