Free A Play of Isaac by Margaret Frazer Page B

whose hair she had any business ruffling. Joliffe saw her look a little uneasily toward the door where the man Matthew was leaning comfortably against a post, keeping out of the way while he watched. To her look he merely smiled and nodded to let her know all was well. Then Joliffe needed to pay heed to his own business with Ellis until Basset said, “Right. Now, Piers, you’re on. You have your hoop?”
    Piers, already on his feet and coming, no hoop in hand, as his grandfather could well see, froze, one foot in the air and a rather frantic look on his face. “I thought. . . .” He stopped, straightened, put his foot down, and glared at Basset. “You said no properties today. I don’t need the hoop.”
    “Good. You do remember what you’re told sometimes. Get over here.”
    Some days it was a close-run thing whether Basset would keep the upper hand with his grandson but more times than not he did. Thus far.
    Lewis made to follow Piers, saying, “And me,” but Rose said, “Not for this play, Master Fairfield. This one has no devils. He has to be a boy and all alone in this one.” Lewis’s round face began to draw toward a pout at that but Rose added, deliberately cheerful, “Besides, you’re not ready to be a devil yet. We still have your tail to finish. Bring me what you’ve made and we’ll do that, please.”
    She held out her hand and Lewis went to her, taking the two feet or so of braided hay he and Piers had done, while Basset said, “Come on from over there, Piers, the way you’ve done before, if you remember it,” pointing, and they went on from where they were, sorrowful Abraham taking Isaac away to the mountain to sacrifice him at God’s command. Joliffe, withdrawn to the side of the throne of God, had only to watch while Abraham told Isaac his fate and Isaac made his plea for life and then submitted to God’s will, at which point Joliffe’s Angel stepped forward to save the boy and praise Abraham for his faith in God, bringing the play to a glad end.
    The whole business with the ram miraculously appearing in a bush was put off for later, Basset being presently more interested in how well they had their lines and movements than any of the special business that went with them—the crowd-pleasers, as he called such business rather rudely when he was out of good humour with the world in general and audiences in particular. Besides, the ram was Rose’s business and she was presently busy sewing a long strip of the red cloth tightly around the braided hay, with a point to one end to make it into a credible devil’s tail. It would not hold up to much rough use but for the few times they would rehearse and the once Lewis would perform it would do well enough, and for now Basset settled for granting rather grudgingly that they all seemed to know their lines sufficiently well. “Better than I hoped, that’s certain.”
    Low enough Basset could pretend not to hear him, Ellis muttered, “If we don’t have them now, we never will. You’ve had us saying them every other mile the last two weeks.”
    “But how does it stay on me?” Lewis protested as Rose held up the finished tail.
    Before Rose could answer, Piers skipped out of the stage-space to him, saying, “There’ll be a band wrapped around your waist and between your legs . . .”
    Lewis giggled and made to touch his crotch but Matthew by the door made a loud clearing of his throat and Lewis’s hand moved vaguely off into space as Piers went on, “. . . and the tail is stitched to that and it sticks out from under the tabard. Here. I’ll show you mine, how it does.”
    “And then,” said Basset, “we’ll run your part of The Steward and the Devil , if you will, Master Fairfield.”
    “Yes!” Lewis said eagerly. “Yes!”
    “Sit down while you can,” Basset added aside to Ellis and Joliffe who promptly did, with Ellis asking a drink of water from Rose who brought cups for him and Joliffe both, then went to explain to Lewis why he