Chapter VI: The Story of Abraham and of Isaac

Both the children looked anxiously in the direction from which all the pageants coming from the gates of the Priory, approached the market-place.

“It isn’t in sight yet!” said Colin in surprise, for hitherto one pageant had followed swiftly upon another.

“Oh! but here’s a man on horseback, dressed _splendidly_!” Margery cried. “What is he going to do?”

“He’s part of the play,” Master Gyseburn explained. “He is a messenger who is going to tell us what it’s all about.”

By this time the rider, who came from a side-street, was clattering over the stones of the market-place. Just beneath the window he drew up his horse, and, raising his plumed cap, began in these words to address the multitude:

“All peace, Lordings, that be present,
And hearken now with good intent
How Noah away from us he went
With all his company;
And Abraham, through God’s grace
He is come forth into this place,
And you will give him room and space
To tell you his storye.
This play, forsooth, begin shall he,
In worship of the Trinity,
That you may all hear and see
What shall be done to-day.
My name is Gobbet-on-the-Green,
No longer here I may be seen;
Farewell, my Lordings, all by dene [in haste]
For letting [hindering] of your play.”

Setting spurs to his horse, the messenger, a brilliant figure in a doublet of sapphire blue laced with gold, and long crimson hose, rode away, disappearing at the opposite corner of the market-place from that at which he had entered.

And now another figure came into view, also riding.

This was a stately man in long robes, wearing a curious turban of linen.

“Is that Abraham?” asked Colin. “But where is Isaac?”

“He doesn’t come yet,” answered Master Gyseburn. “The story, you see, begins long before Isaac is born. Abraham has just returned from his victory over the four kings. Listen! He is explaining how the kings took his nephew Lot prisoner, and how he released him, and conquered the kings.”

“Now there’s another man coming on horseback!” said Margery. “Oh! look how beautifully he is dressed, with rubies on his gown, and on the thing that comes over his forehead. Who is he?”

“That’s Melchizedek, King of Salem, and priest of the Most High God. He is coming to bless Abraham for conquering the kings, and to give him bread and wine.”

“Yes! A servant is holding up a golden cup to him and a golden plate!” said Colin. “And now he’s going to give the bread and wine to Abraham, I suppose.”

This duly happened as Colin had guessed, for Melchizedek, reining up his horse close to Abraham, began to speak, offering him presently the golden cup and platter:

“Abraham, welcome must thou be,
God’s grace is fully in thee;
Blessed ever must thou be
That enemies so can make.
I have brought, as thou may’st see,
Bread and wine for thy degree;
Receive this present now from me,
And that I thee beseke [beseech].”

Then Abraham, taking the bread and wine, answered in this fashion:

“Sir King, welcome in good say,
Thy present is welcome to my pay.
God has helped me to-day,
Unworthy though I were.
He shall have part of my prey
That I won since I went away.
Therefore to thee thou take it may,
The tenth I offer thee.”

At this moment a horse richly laden with all sorts of precious gifts of gold and silver and jewels was led forward by a page. The beautiful animal had splendid harness and trappings upon him, and he walked proudly as though conscious of the royal presents he brought.

Melchizedek accepted the gift and, after further talk with Abraham, rode away, followed by his servants, who led the laden steed.

Abraham now wheeled his horse aside to make room for the messenger, who rode into the cleared space, and once more addressed the audience. In a long speech he explained to the people that the scene they had just witnessed was a sort of parable, and meant the Holy Communion, the Bread and Wine commemorating Christ’s sacrifice for the world.

So far the pageant or wooden stage had not been used at all. All the characters had come riding in to act their parts. But now the platform which stood waiting in the background, was drawn into the midst of the open space, and the rest of the play took place as usual, upon it.

First God the Father appeared, and Abraham entreated Him to send him a child to be his heir. The Almighty promised to grant his request, laid various commands upon him, and told him that his descendants should be as the stars of heaven for number; and the scene ended with Abraham kneeling to bless and thank the Lord for His mercy.

The curtains were now drawn, and before they were once more unclosed, the messenger again rode up, and explained to the people how some of the commands which God had just given to Abraham pointed to and foreshadowed the Sacrament of Baptism, which followed the birth of Christ.

When he had ridden away, and the curtains of the pageant again swung back, the children grew very excited, for almost the first words of the scene told them that Isaac might soon be expected to appear.

“You see,” said Master Gyseburn, “that some years are supposed to have passed between the last scene and this. God’s promise has been fulfilled, and Abraham now has a son. Listen!”

Abraham was alone on the stage, but just as Master Gyseburn finished speaking, God’s voice was heard:

“Abraham, My servant Abraham!”

“Lo, Lord, already here I am,”

replied Abraham.

“Take Isaac thy son by name,”

the voice continued,

“And in sacrifice offer him to Me
Upon that hill, beside thee.
Abraham, I will that it so be
For aught that may befall.”

Though almost stunned with grief at the command, Abraham at once declared himself ready to obey the Lord. He said that all his household should remain at home except Isaac, with whom he would go to the appointed hill.

By this time Mistress Harpham was leaning anxiously over the children’s shoulders, for she knew that Giles in the character of Isaac was waiting to come on to the stage. All the guests were also very excited and full of expectation.

“It’s well that the boy acts with so good a man as Master Eliott!” exclaimed a woman who stood close to her hostess.

“Aye! John Eliott is a rare good player!” answered Mistress Harpham nervously. “We’ve never had a better ‘Abraham’ than he makes, and he’s taken such pains with Giles too, teaching him and training him for the part.”

“There he is! There he is!” cried Margery, as a pretty, delicate little figure in a linen tunic entered. “Oh! _doesn’t_ he look nice!”

And indeed, with his fair curly hair and sweet face, Giles made quite a touching little Isaac.

“Hush! Hush! Abraham is speaking,” Master Gyseburn reminded her.

“Make thee ready, my darling,” he was saying in a voice which made Margery feel as though she wanted to cry:

“Make thee ready, my darling,
For we must do a little thing;
This wood upon thy back you bring,
We must not long abide.
A sword and fire I will take,
For sacrifice I must make;
God’s bidding will I not forsake,
But ay obedient be.”

There was a deep silence in the crowd, as speaking in a very clear, gentle voice, Isaac made reply:

“Father, I am all ready
To do your bidding meekly;
To bear this wood full bound am I
As you command me.”

Abraham then in trembling tone gave a blessing to his son, whose look of bewilderment and growing fear brought tears to the eyes of some of the women at the window.

Then, after the old man had bound the wood on the boy’s back, he was suddenly overcome with misery.

“Oh! my heart will break in three,
To hear thy words I have pity,”

he exclaimed. But the cry of despair was immediately followed by

“As thou wilt, Lord, so must it be.”

Still wondering and afraid, Isaac spoke:

“Are you anything adread? (he asked)
Father, if it be your will,
Where is the beast that we shall kill?”

And when Abraham told him that he saw no animal at all, the boy went on in a shaking voice:

“Father, I am full sore afraid
To see you bare this naked sword.
I hope for all middle-yard [instead of any creature from the
farmyard],
You will not slay your child?”

Then the father, who could not bear to detect the fear in his boy’s voice, tried to comfort him by saying that the Lord would surely provide some beast that might be slain for the sacrifice. But Isaac was not satisfied. He begged the old man to tell him whether any evil would happen to him, and at the entreaty Abraham could no longer hide his terrible grief, but broke into wild words.

“Ah, dear God, that me is woe!
Thou bursts my heart in sunder,”

he exclaimed, wringing his hands; and finally, when Isaac again implored him to hide nothing from him, he told the dreadful truth.

“O Isaac, Isaac, I must thee kill!”

he cried.

Then poor little Isaac went down on his knees and entreated his father to spare him:

“Alas! father,” he sobbed, “is that your will,
Your own child here for to spill
Upon this hill’s brink?
If I have trespassed in any degree
With a rod you may beat me;
Put up your sword, if your will be,
For I am but a child....
Would God my mother were here with me!
She would kneel upon her knee,
Praying you, father, if it might be,
For to save my life.”

By this time Mistress Harpham was crying, and so were many other mothers in the crowd, while they listened to the boy’s voice, and the words of Abraham as he explained to his son that this terrible thing must come to pass because it was God’s command.

Isaac listened, and, forgetting himself, tried very sweetly to comfort his poor father, begging him not to linger, but to do the deed quickly.

“Father, tell my mother of nothing,” he implored, anxious to spare her the knowledge of his fate; and then he asked that a handkerchief might be tied over his eyes to prevent him from seeing the flash of the sword.

Most of the women hid their own eyes while poor little Isaac was bound and laid upon the altar; when the boy spoke again, for the last time, they sobbed aloud.

“Now, father, I see that I shall die!
Almighty God in Majesty,
My soul I offer unto Thee;
Lord, to it be kind.”

Margery could not look when Abraham, snatching up the sword, held it high over the child’s head, and it was only when she heard a gentle voice that she dared to take her hands from her eyes.

“Abraham, My servant dear!”

“Look up! He’s not going to be hurt,” whispered Colin. “The angel has come. _Two_ angels!”

With great relief Margery gazed at them. They were beautiful, she thought, with their long golden wings, and their white gowns; and she loved them for coming to save poor little Isaac.

She saw that Abraham had dropped his sword, and she heard his trembling voice saying,

“_Lo, Lord! I am already here._”

“Lay not thy sword in any manner
On Isaac, thy dear darling!”

replied one of the gracious angels, while the other pointed to a ram which was struggling in a thicket of bushes close by, and bade Abraham sacrifice the animal instead of his only son.

Then Abraham rejoiced, and offered praise to God:

“Ah, Lord of heaven, and King of bliss!
Thy bidding I shall do, I wis;
Sacrifice here to me sent is,
And all, Lord, through Thy grace.
A hornèd wether here I see,
Among the briars tied is he.
To Thee offered it shall be
Anon, right in this place.”

Margery drew a long breath when, just before the curtains were closed, she saw Abraham unbinding and embracing his poor little son. But even then the play was not quite over, for again the messenger rode forward, and, placing himself in front of the pageant, explained to the audience that Isaac was a type of Christ, and that the sacrifice was meant to foreshadow His death upon the Cross. These were the words of his message:

“Lordings, the signification
Of this deed of devotion,
An you will, it is shown,
May turn you to much good.
This deed you see done in this place,
In example of Jesus done it was,
That for to win mankind grace
Was sacrificed on the rood.
By Abraham you may understand
The Father of heaven that can fand [find means]
With His Son’s blood to break that band
The devil had brought us to.
By Isaac understand I may
Jesus Who was obedient ay,
His Father’s will to work alway,
His death to undergo.”