Emotionally Charged Dialogue in The Sacrifice of Isaac In the Brome version of The Sacrifice of Isaac, the suspense created by the emotionally charged dialogue is likely what kept the audience's attention. While it is incredibly likely that the audience knew the entire story, the emotional flavour of the dialogue, such as Abraham's innocent expressions of his love of and thankfulness for Isaac at the beginning of the play, is bound to evoke a certain concern for the characters which dims the audience's foreknowledge of the tale's happy ending. It is much the same principle that modern television scriptwriters use to hold viewers' attention through a series; the main characters, who can't die because they are needed for next week's episode, are somehow threatened, and, in the end, are saved by the magic of plot twists and cool kung-fu. But, while you are watching these shows, despite the fact you know these characters won't be killed off, your gut twists every time an arrow whizzes past Xena or Batman narrowly avoids the Joker's evil poison gas. It seems that the medieval playwright was just as adept at making his audience forget that they know the end of the story, but this one does it through his characters' dialogue. Abraham: As Isaac here, my owyn swete son. I have diverse children moo, The which I love not halffe so well. This fayer swet child, he schereys me soo . Now cum on, Isaac, my owyn swet child;. Cume on, swete child. I love thee best Of all the children that I ever begat. It appears that this opening speech by Abraham is designed to induce the audience to think ahead to God's demand, by offering them a view of Abraham's love for Isaac, and Isaac's fitness as a son. The portions of this speech that I have not quoted show that Abraham's intent in this speech is not to boast, but to thank God for blessing him with the simple joys of life; a good home, a pleasant wife, and a helpful son. The playwright is open with regards to God's reason in asking for the sacrifice of the most useful and beloved of Abraham's sons. As He says in lines 33-34, "I schall asay now his good will, / Whether he lovith better his child or me." In other words, God is jealous, an emotion that I find badly suited to an omnipotent deity, but that the Old Testament emphasizes as one of God's primary motivations. When the angel first tells Abraham of God's wishes, Abraham states that he has never begrudged God anything, and although it pains him greatly, he will not begrudge God the sacrifice of his son. When he makes this speech, it appears that Abraham is accepting his fate with a brave face and a pounding heart, hoping that his bold acceptance of something he obviously feels is wrong will cause God to back down from his request. At this point, the audience, too, stands with brave faces and pounding hearts, waiting to hear God's acknowledgement of Abraham's acceptance. I certainly found myself mimicking Abraham's stance, gripping my book in the delicate but powerful hold of one who is anxious and uncertain. "Will God go through with it?" I asked myself, unable to peel my eyes from the pages and realise that I knew how this story was constructed. I imagine that the sensation is even stronger if the play is watched instead of read. When Abraham approaches Isaac, he does not tell him at once what the entire plan for the day includes. Instead, he tells his son to get ready to go make an unspecified sacrifice to God. Isaac, then, joyfully expresses how much he'd enjoy going with his father to make a sacrifice. This exchange is made all the more heartbreaking by the fact that the audience knows that Isaac is to be the sacrifice; they feel that he should be told, and perhaps induced to run, but they also feel themselves in Abraham's place, unwilling to anger God despite the anguish it causes them. Perhaps a few members of the audience comment that they hope God never asks it of them, some others who mutter that they'd rather have the devil's side than agree to such a command, and even some who half wish God would ask them to sacrifice their children. Noticing that Abraham is wringing his hands an awful lot for what ought to be a joyful, if messy, celebration of their devotion to God, Isaac looks around him and realises that there is no ram to be sacrificed. "And also, fader, evermore dred I: / Wher is yowre qweke best that ye schuld kill? . A qwike best, I wot well, must be ded / yowre sacrifice for to make." (Isaac, ll. 137-38, 141-42) Isaac finds this lack of a sacrifice unnerving, as should the audience, for they know what is to happen and this recognition signals that the time of sacrifice comes near. He begins to question his father as to it in line 149, when he begins to make the connection between Abraham's worried expression, the lack of a ram, and Abraham's drawn sword. In line 167, "A, Isaac, Isaac, I must kill thee," Isaac has finally forced the truth out of his father. Here, the audience is filled with a combination of relief and sorrow; at last the boy knows what is to become of him, but it would've been so much easier to sacrifice him if he'd been kneeling unknowingly in prayer. Isaac's knowledge of himself as sacrifice leads to more questions, and a renewed and increased awareness that what is about to occur is an abomination, despite the fact that it was commanded by the force of ultimate goodness. In fact, Isaac's first response to his father's admission is to ask what misdeed he had committed, and then to ask whether God had actually specifically asked for him as a sacrifice. The audience is led to feel Isaac's panic, and to feel more compassion for him because of the brave face behind which he attempts to conceal his panic. However it is obviously a child's bravery; he continues to intersperse his attempts to reassure Abraham with questions to reassure himself that this is actually the will of God. In order to keep his sanity, Abraham asks Isaac to be silent; the audience understands that this is a ploy to make him forget that he is killing his son. By this time, the audience is on the edge of their seats, those who have the luck to be sitting, gripping each other's arms, or whatever else comes within reach, and staring at the stage wide-eyed with anticipation. As Abraham raises the sword above Isaac's neck, there may even be a groan or a cry from within the crowd; women cringing or hiding their faces, perhaps. It is in the midst of this prelude to chaos that the angel again appears, this time to stay Abraham's hand. The crowd probably remembered to breathe at this point; a collective sigh, perhaps punctuated with a few inarticulate sounds of joy or relief. Abraham and Isaac, as well as the audience, are at once triumphant because they knew God would not allow the barbaric sacrifice, and disbelieving, expecting that God will pull the proverbial rug out from under them again. Abraham asks the angel if he is certain that this is God's will, and Isaac, still making sure he got the wax out of his ears, asks Abraham the same. Through the course of the sacrifice of the sheep that the angel gives them, Isaac periodically asks Abraham if he is actually safe from sacrifice. The audience, still stunned, despite their foreknowledge of this twist, may even be giggling with relief and paying less attention to the scene onstage. However, at the very end of the play, the Doctor regains their attention by blandly summing up the events of the play, the very mediocrity of his description accenting the horror of what they almost witnessed, and the goodness of God in not following through with the sacrifice. It becomes quite apparent that the modern scriptwriter does not have exclusive rights to the use of enrapturing dialogue in the creation of gripping scenes. In fact, it may be argued that the medieval playwright was more reliant on dialogue to interest the audience because he needed to write a play that would be engaging on a limited and often primitive set. In just reading this play, I became attuned to the reactions of an audience viewing the play; I believe this attests to the playwright's effective use of language, particularly dialogue, since there are few stage directions, in his composition of The Sacrifice of Isaac. 1470 words