THE MOTHER OF GOD VISITS HELL
A Full-Length Play
by
Daniel Guyton
Winner of the Helen-Jean Play Contest ‘Literary Creativity’ Award, 2015
Official Selection of the Last Frontier Theatre Conference, 2014
Semi-Finalist in the Princess Grace Playwriting Fellowship Competition, 2014
Author is a member of the Dramatists Guild of America And the Writers Guild of America East
210 Heritage Farm Lane Fayetteville, GA 30215 404-406-9602 [email protected] www.danguyton.com
The Mother of God Visits Hell
"There is, for example, one little monastery poem (from the Greek, of course): 'The Mother of God visits the Torments'… The Mother of God visits hell and the Archangel Michael guides her through 'the torments'. She sees sinners and their sufferings. Among them, by the way, she sees a most amusing class of sinners in a burning lake: some of them sink so far down into the lake that they can no longer come up again, and 'these God forgets’ – an expression of extraordinary depth and force – And so the Mother of God, shocked and weeping, falls before the throne of God and asks pardon for everyone in hell, everyone she has seen there, without distinction. Her conversation with God is immensely interesting. She pleads, she won’t go away, and when God points out to her the nail-pierced hands and feet of her Son, and asks: ‘How can I forgive His tormentors?’ she bids all the saints, all the martyrs, all the angels and archangels to fall down together with her and plead for the pardon of all without discrimination…
“The Brothers Karamazov” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky [p. 247-8, translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volok-honsky, Vintage Press, 1991]
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
The play is dedicated to the Town and Gown Players of Athens, GA, and to the memories of Tom Tanner, Ben Teague, and Marie Bruce. May they rest in peace.
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
GOD – all-knowing, the creator MARY – his mother MICHAEL – archangel, highest of the Seraphim SATAN – the devil URIEL – the angel of song GABRIEL – archangel, a messenger AZRAEL – the angel of hell, a gate-keeper ABADDON – a demon MOLOCH – a demon COBBLER – a shoemaker MARGARET – his wife PENNY – his daughter SMITHEE – a blacksmith MURDERER – a killer VARIOUS SOULS in torment
Please double-cast as needed. Characters may be of any race, creed or sex desired.
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
SCENE I. GOD’S DESIGN
GOD enters, followed by his mother.
GOD. No. I must forbid it, Mother. ‘Tis rash.
MARY. 'Tis rash to salve the wounds which We’ve inflicted?
GOD. Nay, ‘tis rash to salvage wounds which were By worms inflicted. Say, what weight have We With worms? With water bugs? With moping yellow Maggots and decay? Instead, I say We stay up here in Heaven safe, whilst they Betray the flesh of sinful men. Thus, Thou And I and Seraphim shalt play the harps Divine, whilst vermin, scum and scavengers Beneath the earth shall dine. I say again…
MARY. No need. I heard Thee fine the other time. Thou bad’ Me not to go so I will stay.
GOD. Yea, ‘n haunt Me for eternity with guilt.
MARY. Well, I am a Jewish mother, dear. Adye.1
She bows and begins to exit.
GOD. Stay. Remain. Please. I wish to speak with Thee. Thou comest here with wringing hands and blurting Nervously about a journey I Must needs abhor. Wert Thy request a little Less unorthodox, it would be done, Thou canst be sure.
MARY. Aye, certainly it would. And if I’ve inadvertently, somehow Just now offended Thee, it wasn’t by Intent. Thou art My Father, and My Soul Divine. I aim to follow closely Thy Design.
GOD. What twist is this? Why call You Me Thy Father, Mother? Am I not Thy Son?
1 Yiddish, means “good night.” Pronounced “ad-yeh.”
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
MARY. O aye, ‘tis true enough. On earth Thou wert My Child. I raised Thee from a nursing babe To one all men admired. But Ye conceived Of Me full fifteen years ‘fore e’er I touched My womb to feel Thee kick. In thus, Thou art My Father, Son, and this be not a trick.
GOD. Ah, how Thou vexeth me. I long to see Thee smile. Yet come, stand next to Me, and let Us gaze upon the earth awhile. For ten Millennia I’ve reigned, as God above The men, with naught but cherubs to amuse Me. So unsatisfied and full of pride, Incapable of pity, cursing all The blessèd fools who durst refused to bend Their knees before Me. Lo, and when I Condescended to be Man, ‘twas in a blaze Of fury! O, for how could I have known The agony and groans of life in My Creation, when I knew the beauty only Of My Own design? I held such arrogance And gumption then in My celestial Presumption that all men were naught But servants in My mind. ‘Tis true, the old Adage, of power and corruption – although I could scarce believe it of Myself. ‘Twas Thee who rescued Me, and all of man. Thy motherly affections, and that soft And tender hand, which taught Me love above All other acts of Mine. “To err is human, Yet forgiveness is divine.” “Judge not Lest ye be judged.” Yes, all these passages Were Thine. I felt such strong compassion when I cradled in Thy arms, I could no longer Punish as I once bethought I should. Although I came to earth in anger, it Was Thee who gave Me strength. In thus, Thou art My Mother, and the holiest of saints.
MARY. Thy words bring rivers to My eyes. Nay please, Forgive My imposition. I’ll not ask Thee anymore.
GOD. Stay. Please. And ask Me more. For anything Thou wisheth… Save for one.
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
MARY. I’ve all a soul could ask for, in Thy Grace. My throne upon the mantle made of gold. I dream in shiny sparkles, and I swim In silver lakes, and lay upon the surface Of the clouds. My wont is not for riches, Nor My own desires, but to witness Those who suffer in the sepulcher Of fire. To offer them compassion, though They err. I wish this not for Me, My Lord, But all humanity, for those who have To wallow in the mire. ‘Tis true, all men Have sin in them, and so, deserve to perish. But the worms can only swallow them If Thee they do not cherish. Now I know My tongue is bothersome, so please, forgive Me for My rants. But if Thou hast affection Yet, so give My wish a second chance.
GOD. And what about temptation? How wilt Thou Resist? The devil has a honey voice, Yet venom on his lips, and he is known For his vexation of the holiest Of wits.
MARY. Aye, Lucifer’s a troubled soul, And failed at veneration. And yet, I Was borne an empty palette with no sinful Inclinations. Though his words be full Of lies and powerful libations, I’ll Not drink a drop of them to keep Me from Salvation. I’ll be well.
GOD. Alone in hell? And what if he attacks?
MARY. Then send an angel. My protector. Thy most worthy bodyguard.
GOD. Whom?
MARY. Michael.
GOD. Hmm. I do not like This plan.
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
MARY. But Michael is as capable As any.
GOD. Aye, and more. The heartiest Of angels. Yea, and surely he would place Himself ‘twixt Thee and any harm. But danger Lurks at ev’ry turn. The flames of hell Are warm.
MARY. I’ll bring a fan.
GOD. No need. Thy head Is cool. And Michael’s sword is stronger than A thousand middling fools in all of Satan’s Army. But if something should go wrong…
MARY. Thou art omnipotent.
GOD. O aye, in My Dominion! But there’s little say have I Inside his walls. If any harm befalls Thee, it should start a war, when all the guards Of Heaven shall with swords come swarming down! My Cherubim shall arrows fling within His minion’s scalded hearts. My Seraphim Shall cease to sing…
MARY. Enough! I’ll not depart.
GOD. If this be Thy desire, Thou should’t go.
MARY. But I desire friendliness and love! For peace betwixt the Hell beneath, and Heaven Up above. My wont is not for massacres, Nor war. Instead, to be ambassador ‘Twixt Thee and Purgatory. But, If Ye bethinks it treacherous, I will Not move an inch. I’ll stay within these Golden Gates and I shall linger in Thy Glory.
GOD. Peace now, I implore Thee. (Calling out) Michael!
MICHAEL. (Entering) Aye, My Lord?
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
GOD. Go guide My Mother safely through The darkened underworld. She longs to see The suffering of souls.
MICHAEL. ‘Tis dangerous.
GOD. I know.
MICHAEL. (Bowing) Thy wish is my command. (To MARY) My Lady, Take my hand.
MARY. My Son, I cherish Thee.
GOD. I do not like this plan. (They exit. He looks at Earth) At times like these, I envy man. For who have I to pray to?
Lights out. End of scene.
SCENE II. THE UNDERWORLD
A heavy door opens. MICHAEL and MARY enter into SATAN’s lair.
MARY. Hello? Is anybody here?
MICHAEL. Nay, step Behind me quickly, Lady, for I smell Beelzebub is near.
SATAN. (Entering) Well! Speak the devil’s Name, they say, and soon he shall appear. (Bowing) M’ Lady.
MICHAEL. (Aiming his sword) Stay! Vouchsafe to keep thy distance.
SATAN. What? And harm the Holy Virgin? Why, I’d sooner sell my soul.
MARY. To whom?
SATAN. Myself, Of course. Hmm hmm! (He laughs)
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
MARY. Why then, I pray thee gets A bargain. For a soul as venerable As thine, ‘twould be a shame to cheat thyself. Don’t go below a dime.
SATAN. (Honored) Dost find me so Expensive? I concur. (Aside, to MICHAEL) In troth, I would Have bartered for some frankincense and myrrh. (MICHAEL unsheathes) But hold thy sword! I do abate. (Aside, to MARY) Methinks He overcompensates. (Aloud, to MICHAEL) Nay, please re-sheathe, I mean no harm. ‘Tis just a spot of jest. Why comest thou so duly armèd, unto My address?
MICHAEL. It is for Her protection.
SATAN. Bah! My Lady is a noble Queen, The worthiest of souls. Why thinkest thou My meager purse could ever buy such gold?
MICHAEL. I don’t. But know thee for a fiend who’ll stop At nothing.
SATAN. Oh? Well, let’s not walk on eggshells, Lest we be dishonest. Tell me how Thou truly feel’st; and fie on being modest!
MICHAEL. You disgust me.
SATAN. Ooh! How miserable! How positively grand! And ‘twere I not Invincible, I’d still be shaking in My hand! (He waves his hand in MICHAEL’s face. MICHAEL grabs and twists it. SATAN cries out) Ow!
MICHAEL. Thou art not impregnable, Thy shoulders may be hewn! Thy neck is weak And breakable, thy innards may be strewn!
MARY. Michael! (MICHAEL releases him, and bows to MARY) Sincere apologies, dear Lucifer, The angel means no harm. Nay, he Was but exhibiting the virtue of His arm.
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
SATAN. Aye, such virtue. (Aside) Me wish’d he had Less merit. Though, ‘twere half my arm as virtuous, Then I would gladly share it. (To her) Yea, So verily Thou com’st to me with purpose, So let’s air it. Pleaseth Thee to tell Me now, preferably in earnest, wherefore Comes about this pilgrimage unto My humble furnace? Hm?
MARY. I wish to be A witness to the sufferings of man.
SATAN. A witness, eh? That sounds perverse. But who Am I to judge? So, I will guide Thee in, My Queen, although Thy servant may not budge.
MICHAEL. Thou cur!
SATAN. Thou fish! ‘Tis I decides who comes And goes inside this foul abyss. And yon Madonna, in Her Holy Quest to see The damned exist, may come and go. But Thou Instead art burdenèd with’ too ill-tempered Head. And so, thou shalt be circled in With th’ Shackles of the Dead!
SATAN snaps his fingers and MICHAEL’s arms clamp to his side. He can only move his neck.
MICHAEL. What ho, I’m stuck!
SATAN. Indeed! Oh no! That is bad luck! M’lady, Shall we go?
MARY. O pardon Me, release Him! For his place is up in heaven! He Is only here because Jehovah deigned To let him.
SATAN. Then the more misfortune he. But dear, I promise he’ll be fine. The instant We return from Hell, the chains will disentwine.
MARY. Dost swear it?
SATAN. On Thy Soul.
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The Mother of God Visits Hell
MICHAEL. My Lady, no!
MARY. I will be fine. (Touching his face gently) Please keep thy wits About thee, Michael. For I shall return In time.
MICHAEL. Our Father needs to know!
(She touches his face, gently)
MARY. It is For Him that I must go.
She smiles sadly at him, then exits. SATAN follows.
MICHAEL. May luck be with Thee, Lady, then, since I cannot be so.
Lights out. End of scene.
SCENE III. URIEL’S LAMENT
GOD, seated, staring at an orchid.
GOD. Ah, what a soft and fragile thing art thou. With such a radiant physique. (He looks down at the earth) Yet even As a comely flower, art thou vulnerable And weak. For even here within This earthly hour, wert thou trampled under Feet. (He stares down at earth) If only I had granted powers To these plants to match the beasts… But then, The butterflies and honeybees would not Have nectar left to eat. So rest thee here, Thou precious one, and blossom near My seat. (He lays the flower down) ‘Tis only in the greater whole that all My pieces seem complete. Yet even in Omniscience, I feel a strange defeat. Ho, Uriel!
URIEL. (Entering) My Liege?
GOD. (Sitting) Come, play a song For me. End of sample.
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