Mystery Plays

One of the most surprising features of The Book of Margery Kempe is its portrayal of Margery Kempe as both a modern-day saint and a fallible human being.  Showing that God’s chosen are ordinary people, not superheroes, is also a feature of the biblical drama popular in Kempe’s day: the Mystery Plays.  These popular dramas represented biblical figures as ordinary human beings, quirky and fallible.  Noah drinks too much, Joseph is a bit of a buffoon, and, as you’ll see, neither Abraham nor Isaac is keen on playing their role in God’s plan.

Mystery plays, performed in major towns in England, relay biblical history from Creation to the Last Judgment in several dozen discrete plays, each devoted to a single episode.  Each of the town’s professional guilds contributed a play, often obviously relevant to their craft. The play could thus serve as a form of advertising.  For example, the bakers might contribute the Last Supper, the ship makers the story of Noah’s Flood, or (really gross) the nail makers the Crucifixion.  Guilds also took swipes at their professional rivals (much as Chaucer’s pilgrims did in The Canterbury Tales).  For example in the nail-makers’ Crucifixion play, Christ’s executioners complained about the shoddy work of the carpenters, who couldn’t drill the nail holes in the right place.

Have a glance at the table below, and you’ll see how the York Cycle, the largest cycle of English mystery plays, divvied Salvation History into discrete episodes, each assigned to a different craft guild. You might think of it as it as one city’s attempt to provide a plot summary of the Bible!

The plays were performed on pageant wagons, as depicted in the image below:

The Story of Abraham and Isaac

You’re reading one of the finest renditions of the story of Abraham and Isaac.  Before you begin the play, review the story as it is relayed in the Book of Genesis, Chapter 22:

The Brome Play of Abraham and Isaac

Modernized by Abigail S. Greff and Karen Winstead

ABR. Father of heaven omnipotent,

With all my heart I call to you.

You have given me both land and money,

And my livelihood you have sent to me:

I thank you highly evermore for it all.

First you made Adam from the earth,

And also Eve to be his wife:

All other creatures came from those two;

And now you have granted that I, Abraham,

May lead my life here in this land.

In my age you have granted me this,

That this young child shall live with me.

Indeed, I love nothing so much

As Isaac here, my own sweet son.

Except you yourself, dear Father of bliss.^[1]

I have various other children

Whom I don’t love half as well.

This fair sweet child makes me so happy that

Where ever I go

I don’t worry about anything.

And therefore, Father of heaven, I pray

For his health and for his grace:

Now, Lord, keep him both night and day

So that no anxiety nor terror

Shall come to my child in any place.

Now come on, Isaac, my own sweet child,

Let us go home and take our rest.

ISA. Abraham, my father so mild,

I am always ready to follow you,

Both early and late.

ABR. Come on, sweet child, I love you best

Of all the children that I ever fathered.

[Heaven.]

GOD. My angel, hasten quickly on your way

And go straightaway to Middle-Earth.

I will now test Abraham’s heart,

Whether it is steadfast or not.

Say that I command him to take

Isaac, his son, whom he loves so well,

And make a sacrifice of his blood

If he desires to enjoy my friendship at all.

Show him the way to the hill

Where he shall make his sacrifice.

I shall now test his good will,

Whether he loves his child or me better.

All men shall take him as their example

Of how my commandments should be fulfilled.

[The Field.]

ABR. Now, Father of heaven that formed all things,

I make my prayers to you again.

For this day I must certainly give

My tender offering to you, here.

Oh, Lord God, almighty king,

What kind of animal will please you most?

If I had true knowledge of this,

It would be done with all my power

Immediately.  I desire nothing more than

To fulfill your wishes on a hill

Dear Father, God alone.

[Enter ANGEL.]

ANG. Abraham, Abraham, are you resting?

Our Lord commands you to take

Isaac, your young son, whom you love best,

And make your sacrifice with his blood.

Go into the land of Moriah

And offer your child to your lord:

I shall lead and show you.

Abraham, obey God’s command

And follow me upon this ground.

ABR. My Lord’s message is welcome to me

And I will not disobey his command.

Yet Isaac, my young son,

Has been a very dear child to me.

I would rather, if God would be pleased by it,

Relinquish all the wealth I have

Than see my son, Isaac, dead,

May God in heaven save my soul.

I’ve never loved anything on Earth so much,

And now I must go kill the child.

Oh, Lord God, my conscience is strongly stirred,

And yet, my dear Lord, I am terribly afraid

To begrudge you anything.

I love my child as I do my life,

But yet I love my God much more,

For though it would cause my heart strife,

I will not refuse for my child or my wife,

But instead follow my Lord’s teaching.

Though I love my son ever so well,

Yet I shall soon smite off his head.

Oh, Father of heaven, I kneel to you:

My son shall feel a hard death

In order to honor you fully, Lord.

ANG. Abraham, Abraham, this is well said,

And look that you keep all these commandments.

But in your heart, do not be dismayed.

ABR. No, no, in truth, I am well pleased,

To please my God with the best that I have.

For though my heart is heavy

At the thought of seeing the blood of my own dear son,

Yet I will not refrain for all this,

But I will go fetch Isaac, my son,

And come here as fast as we can.

Now, Isaac, my own dear son,

Where are you, child? Speak to me.

[Enter ISAAC.]

ISA. My fair sweet father, I am here,

And make my prayers to the Trinity.

ABR. Rise up, my child, and come here fast,

My gentle child that is so wise,

For the two of us, child, must go together,

And make a sacrifice to my Lord.

ISA. I am all ready, my father, look!

I am standing right here beside you.

And whatsoever you bid me to do,

It shall be done gladly,

Very well and fine.

ABR. Oh, Isaac, my own son so dear,

I give you God’s blessing, and mine.

Carry this firewood upon your back,

And I shall bring the fire myself.

ISA. Father, I will pack all this gear:

I am so glad to do your bidding.

ABR. Oh, Lord of heaven, I wring my hands;

This child’s words wreck my heart.

Now, Isaac, son, let’s go on our way

To the yonder mountain with all our strength.

ISA. Let’s go, father, as fast as we may:

I’m so glad to follow you,

Although I am slender.

[They climb a hill.]

ABR. Oh, Lord, my heart breaks in two,

This child’s words are so tender.

Oh, Isaac, my son, lay that down at once:

No longer bear it upon your back.

For I must make myself ready, quickly,

To honor my Lord God so dear.

ISA. There it is, my father!

I am right here to cheer you, always.

But father, I’m puzzled.

Why do you look so gloomy?

And also, father, I’m afraid I don’t

see living beast that you would kill?

We have both fire and wood ready,

But we have no living beast on this hill.

I know well that a living beast must die

In order for you to make your sacrifice.

ABR. Fear not, my child, I advise you,

Our Lord will send to me in this place

Some kind of beast for me to sacrifice,

Through his sweet message.

ISA. Yes, father, but my heart begins to quake

To see that sharp sword in your hand.

Why do you bear your sword drawn so?

I wonder greatly at the look on your face.

ABR. Oh, Father of heaven, alas!

This child here breaks my heart into pieces.

ISA. Tell me, dear father,

Have you drawn your sword for me?

ABR. Oh, Isaac, my sweet son, peace, peace!

For indeed, you break my heart into three.^[2]

ISA. Now truly, it seems to me, father,

That you are growing ever more upset.

ABR. Oh, Lord of heaven, let your grace descend,

For my heart has never been half this sore.

ISA. I pray you, father, let me know

Whether I am going to be hurt.

ABR. Truly, sweet son, I may not tell you yet.

My heart is so full of sorrow now.

ISA. Dear father, I pray, don’t hide it from me.

Tell me what you’re thinking.

ABR. Oh, Isaac, I must kill you.

ISA. Kill me, father?  Alas, what have I done?

If I have wronged you at all

Chasten me with a rod

And don’t kill me with your sharp sword,

For truly, father, I am just a child.

ABR. I am so sorry, son, to shed your blood,

But truly, my child, I have no choice.

ISA. If only my mother were here on this hill now:

She would kneel on both her knees for me

To save my life.

And since my mother is not here

I pray you, father, change your mind,

And do not kill me with your knife.

ABR. Truly, son, unless I kill you

I will displease God greatly, I’m afraid.

It is his commandment and his will

That I should do this deed.

He commanded me, son, truly,

To make my sacrifice with your blood.

ISA. And it’s God’s will that I be slain?

ABR. Yes, truly, Isaac, my good son.

And that’s why I’m wringing my hands,

ISA. Now father, I will never complain,

Aloud or silently, about my Lord’s will.

He might have sent me a better end

Had it been his will.

ABR. Truly, son, unless I do this deed,

Our Lord will be seriously displeased.

ISA. No, no father, God forbid

That you should ever displease him for my sake.

You have one or two other children to love.

I pray you, father, don’t be upset,

For once I’m dead and gone

I will be out of your mind.

Therefore, do your Lord’s bidding,

And when I’m dead, pray for me.

But, father, don’t tell my mother anything:

Say I am living in another country.

ABR: Oh, Isaac, Isaac, bless you!

My heart pounds at the very thought of

Seeing the blood of your blessed body.

ISA. Father, since there is no choice,

Let it go.

But father, before I go to my death,

I pray you bless me with your hand.

ABR. Now Isaac, with all my breath

I give you my blessing on this land.

And God’s too, truly.

Oh, Isaac, Isaac, son, stand up

So that I can kiss your fair sweet mouth.

ISA. Now farewell, my own father so fine,

And greet well my earthly mother.

But I pray you, father, cover my eyes

So that I will not see the stroke of your sharp sword

That will defile my flesh.

ABR. Son, your words make me cry.

Now, dear son Isaac, speak no more.

ISA.  Oh, my own dear father, why not?

We will only speak here a while.

And then I must be dead.

Yet, my dear father, I pray you:

Only strike a few strokes at my head,

And make an end of me as soon as you can,

And don’t be long about it.

ABR. Your meek words, child, frighten me

So “alas” would be my song

Were it not God’s will.

Oh, Isaac, my own sweet child,

Kiss me once again on this hill.

In all this world no one is as gentle.

ISA. Now truly, father, all this tarrying

Only hurts me.

I pray you, father, make an end.

ABR. Come to me, fair son.

I must tie your two hands,

However gentle you are.

ISA. Oh, mercy, father, why?

ABR. So that you won’t try to stop me, child.

ISA. Now, truly, father.  I won’t try to stop you.

Go ahead, do your will,

Carry out your purpose.

For God’s love, keep it quiet.

I am very sorry to die today,

But I don’t want to displease my God.

Do what you want, boldly,

My fair sweet father, I permit you.

But father, I ask you again

Not to tell my mother about this.

If she knew it, she would cry hard.

For father, she loves me very much.

May God bless her.

Now farewell, my sweet mother,

We two are unlikely to meet again.

ABR. Oh, Isaac, son, you make me cry.

And you upset me with your words.

ISA. Truly, sweet father, I’m sorry to upset you.

I ask your mercy for all the wrongs I’ve ever done.

Now father, forgive me for those wrongs

Before you finish with me.

God of heaven be with me.

ABR. Oh, dear child, stop moaning.

Never in your life did you upset me.

Bless you, body and bones,

That you were born to me.

You have been a very good child.

But child, however much I mourn,

I must in the end

Spill your blood here.

Therefore, my son, lie here.

I must set about my work.

Truly, I would be just as glad to die myself,

If God would be pleased with my death,

And to offer my own body.

ISA. Oh, mercy, father, don’t mourn.

Your weeping upsets me as much

As the death I’m about to suffer.

Wind your handkerchief around my eyes.

ABR.  I will do that, my sweetest child on earth.

ISA. Now, good father, remember

Not to strike me often with your sharp sword

But get it over with quickly.

ABR. Now, farewell, my child, so full of grace.

ISA. Oh father, father, set me face down

For I am frightened of your sword.

ABR. I am so sorry to do this deed,

But I will not withstand your command, Lord.

ISA. Oh, Father of heaven, I cry to you:

Lord receive me into your hands.

ABR. Now the time has come, for sure,

That my sword will bite his neck.

Oh Lord, my heart recoils from it:

I don’t have the heart to strike.

My heart will bend to the task.

I would gladly do my Lord’s will.

But this young innocent lies so still,

I don’t have it in my heart to kill him.

Oh father in heaven, what shall I do?

ISA. Oh, mercy, father, why are you waiting

And letting me lie so long on this heath?

I would to God the stroke was done.

Father, I beg you, end my misery

And don’t let me wait any longer to die.

ABR. Now, my heart, why don’t you break in three?

Yet you will not make me unmild to God.

I will no longer delay for you

For that would anger my God.

Now receive the stroke, my own dear child.

[As ABRAHAM raises the sword, enter the ANGEL, who snatches it from him.]

ANG. I am an angel—you can rejoice—

Sent from heaven.

Our Lord thanks you a hundred times

For keeping his commandment.

He knows your will and also your heart,

That you fear him above all things,

And to relieve some of your sadness

I brought a fair ram over there.

Look—he’s standing tied among the briars.

Now, Abraham, amend your mood,

For Isaac, your young son here,

Will not shed his blood today.

Go make your sacrifice with that ram,

And I will now go home to heaven.

Now farewell, blessed Abraham,

I must be gone.

Take up your gentle son.

ABR. Oh, Lord, thank you for your great pity.

Now I am comforted in many ways.

Arise, Isaac, dear son, arise,

Arise, sweet child, and come to me.

ISA. Oh, mercy, father, why don’t you strike?

Oh, strike on, father, once with your knife.

ABR. Peace, my sweet son, and don’t think of it,

For the Lord of heaven has spared your life,

Just now, through his angel, that you shall not

Die today, truly.

ISA. Oh father, I would be so happy—

Truly, father, I say truly—

I would be so happy if this were true.

ABR. A hundred times, my fair son,

I will now kiss your mouth for joy.

ISA. Oh, my dear father Abraham,

Won’t God be angry that we’re doing this?

ABR. No, no, not at all, my sweet son,

For he has sent that ram

Down the hill for us.

That animal shall die here in your place

For the honor of our Lord alone.

Go fetch him here, my child.

ISA. Father, I will go grab him by the head

And bring that animal with me now.

[ISAAC brings him the sheep.]

Here, father, I have brought you right here

This gentle sheep and give him to you.

But Lord, I thank you with all my heart;

For I am glad that I shall live

And kiss my dear mother again.

ABR. Now be happy, my sweet child,

For this living animal that is so mild

I shall present here before all others.

ISA. And I shall quickly begin to blow:

This fire shall burn at a good rate.

But father, while I’m bending down low,

You won’t kill me with your sword, will you?

ABR. No, truly, sweet son, don’t be afraid.

My mourning is over.

ISA. Yes, but I wish that sword were sheathed,

For father, it makes me very nervous.

ABRAHAM makes his offering, kneeling.]

ABR. Now Lord God of heaven in Trinity

Almighty God omnipotent,

I make my offering in honor of you

And present you this living beast.

Lord, receive my offerings,

As you are God and the source of all our good.

[Enter GOD.]

GOD. Abraham, Abram, may you prosper,

And Isaac your young son,

Truly Abraham, for this deed

I shall multiple your seed

As thick as the stars in the sky

Both more and less;

And as thick as the sand in the sea

You seed shall be:

I grant you this for your goodness.

Great fruit [i.e., progeny] shall come from you

And eternal bliss.

Because you fear me alone as God

And keep every one of my commandments

I give you my blessing, wheresoever you go.

[Exit.]

ABR. So, Isaac my son, what do you think

About this work we’ve done?

We may be very glad and happy that we

Did not grouch about God’s will

Upon this fair heath.

ISA. Oh, father, I thank our Lord every bit

That I was smart enough

To fear God more than my death.

ABR. Why, dear son, were you afraid?

Truly, child, you can speak your mind.

ISA. Yes, by my faith, father, I think

That I have never been so frightened before

As I was on yonder hill.

But by my faith, father, I swear

I will never come there again

Except against my will.

ABR. Yes, come on with me, my own sweet son,

And let’s go home quickly.

ISA. By my faith, father, let’s!

I’ve never wanted so badly to go home

And speak with my good mother.

ABR. Oh, Lord of heaven, I thank you

For being able to lead my young and gentle son Isaac

Home with me, my gentlest child.

ISA. I agree, father, and let’s go,

For, truly, if I were at home,

I would never go out again like that, I swear.

I pray that God give us and ours grace forevermore.

[Exit.  Enter DOCTOR.]

DOC. See, lords and men, now we have shown

This solemn story to great and small.

It is a good lesson for the learned and the uneducated

And to the wisest of us all,

Without exception.

For this story shows you

How we should keep, if it is in our power,

God’s commandments without grouching.

Do you believe, sirs, that if God sent an angel

And asked you to kill your child,

Truly, is there any among you

That would grouch or put up a fight?

What do you think, men?

I think there would be three or four or more.

And these women who weep so sorrowfully

When their children die

As nature will have it.

It is pure folly, I swear to you,

To grouch against God or to become upset,

For you shall never see them harmed, I know,

By land or water.  Have this in mind.

And do not grouch against our Lord God,

In wealth or misery, whatever he sends you,

However badly you are put.

For when he wishes, he may amend it.

Truly, if you keep his commandments with a good heart

As this story you have just seen has shown

And faithfully serve him while you are healthy.

However you come down on the question of God’s choice, the jealous deity of the Brome play of Abraham and Isaac is a far cry from Julian of Norwich’s homey Creator who holds humanity, like a hazelnut, in the palm of Her hand.