Bewitched (1964–1972): Season 4, Episode 12 - Samantha's Thanksgiving to Remember - full transcript

Gorgeous.

Oh, heh-heh.

Aunt Clara, why
didn't you tell me

you were coming?

Yeah, well, I-I-I...
I didn't know.

Now, I was... I was
home in bed asleep,

and, uh, unfortunately
I talk in my sleep.

And I...

Well, I...

Pardonnez-moi.

Well, Aunt Clara,
I'll take care of that.



Oh.

Oh! Heh-heh.

Oh, thank you, dear.

You're so talented.

Sweetheart!

Guess who just dropped in?

Do I have to?

Aunt Clara.

Just in time for
Thanksgiving dinner.

Isn't that wonderful?

I don't think he hears you.

Darrin, can you hear me?

No!

Told you so.



Excuse me, Aunt Clara.

Don't do that!

Don't you be rude to Aunt Clara.

Honey, it was just that

I was looking forward
to a peaceful dinner

with just the three of us.

It'll be a peaceful dinner

with just the four of us.

Wanna bet?

No.

But she's here now,

and we'll just have
to make the best of it.

Come on downstairs.

Oh, no... No, thank you, dear.

Uh... Oh, uh, uh,
Tabatha, now Aunt Clara

will tell you all about, uh,

the first Thanksgiving.

It was a blast.

We ate for three days.

You were there?

Why, yes, of course.

Oh, what memories.

The Pilgrims.

Plymouth Rock.

Miles Standish,
Priscilla, John Alden,

Boston Blackie.

Uh, no, one minute.

No, that's not, uh, quite right.

I think I'll go and
check the turkey.

I think I'll make another drink.

Samantha?

Uh, uh, Darrin.

Uh, w-would you mind
if I didn't stay to dinner?

Why, not at all.

I mean, we want you to
do what you wanna do.

Well, I'd love to stay,

but reminiscing
about, uh, Plymouth

has made me homesick

for the girls I knew
that settled there.

I'd, uh... I'd like
to visit them.

We understand, Aunt Clara.

I'll make a plane
reservation for you.

No, no, no. That
won't be necessary.

I... I know what
you're thinking.

But I'm perfectly capable

of getting there
on my own power.

Turkey poult down

Send me back To Plymouth town

You sure you don't
wanna take the plane?

No, thank you.

You'd love it. No.

How 'bout a train?

No, thank you.

Wings of falcon
Turkey poult down

Take us back To Plymouth town

Sam, where are we?

Plymouth, of course.

What...? What are
you doing here?

Aunt Clara, we got
caught in your jet stream.

Hey, what is this?

Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry.

But don't you worry.

Now, I brought you here,

and if you don't want to stay,

I'll zap you home.

No, thanks.

You will not zap us home.

We will zoom home
the old-fashioned way.

By jet airliner.

Ohhh.

Sam, this is Plymouth.

Seventeenth-century Plymouth.

Yes. Isn't it exciting?

Huh? Well... Sam, we
gotta get out of here.

They burned witches
in the 17th century.

The ones they
thought were witches.

Not the real ones.

The big witch hysteria
didn't start until much later.

Well, I don't like even
a little witch hysteria.

Sam, can't you think of some way

to zap us away from here?

Aunt Clara zapped us here,

and she has to zap us back.

What about our clothes?

How'll we ever
explain our clothes?

Oh, well, don't
worry, sweetheart.

That, I can handle.

Ooh, uh... Uh...

Now, sweetheart, don't worry.

Greetings to thee, stranger.

Greetings to thee.

We have come from
out of the wilderness.

We have marched
nearly 20 mile this day.

I warrant thou shalt have reason

for the giving of thanks.

Nay, we are poorly.

A crust of bread
is all that standeth

between us and starvation.

Take thee and thy family

to the table of John Alden,

20 yards distance,

and join us with the Indians

on this day of feasting.

Are thout...?

I mean, art thou John Alden?

I am.

Ooh!

Imagine!

I didn't know you spoke Pilgrim.

Oh!

We have been invited
to dinner by John Alden.

Good morrow.

Greetings.

Hi there. Everything okay?

'Tis a poor jest.

My husband meant thee no harm.

What's with him?

Well, uh, "Hi there.
Everything okay?"

is not exactly

a popular 17th-century greeting.

Just follow my cue,
and thou shalt be

as one with the others.

Aye, so be it.

And I'll feel a lot better

when thine Aunt Clara getteth us

the heck out of here.

Thou art groovy.

Greetings.

Uh, why dost thou allow thy
womenfolk to eat and idle?

There are few enough
to tend to the cooking.

Get thee to thy pots.

Don't speak to my wife

in that tone of voice.

I mean, uh, speaketh
not to my wife thusly.

We'll get something to eat

with the womenfolk.

Come on.

Yes, I...

Be careful.

You too.

I'm so worried about
you in the 17th century,

I couldn't eat a thing.

Thou art very sweet.

Maybe I could force myself.

All I had for breakfast
was puffed rice.

Puffed rice?

Hm, 'tis a jest.

He hath a penchant
for poor jests.

This very morn, when I...

Thou never couldst
carve a roast, Phineas,

without adding a mite
of thine own blood.

'Tis the fault of
this poor jester

and his strange womenfolk.

Aunt Clara, are
you concentrating

on getting us out of here?

Oh, yes. Now, don't you worry.

I'm getting closer.

Oh, good.

Double double Toil and trouble

Aunt Clara, this is no time

for Shakespeare.

You're supposed to
zap us back home.

Well, uh,

"double, double,
toil and trouble"

seemed to fit the situation.

Oh, it fits.

It just doesn't work.

I don't like this dream.

It's too much work.

Maybe it isn't a dream.

But if it isn't a
dream, what is it?

And then he sayeth to me,

"That wast no lady,
that wast my wife."

Captain Standish, I do believe

I saw Phineas laugh.

The festivities doth
raise my spirits,

I'll not deny it.

Canst thou
remember the last time

thy mood was so festive?

Aye, 'twas across the sea,

at the burning of a witch.

We hanged all our witches.

Oh, 'twere merrier to burn them.

You... I mean, uh,
thou findest pleasure

at the burning of a witch?

Indeed.

Wouldst thou not?

Well, certainly not.

Some of my... I mean,
some of my closest...

That is, I findeth,
uh, other sport

more to my fanthy.

Uh, fancy.

He speaks in a manner

that rings strangely to the ear.

Aye, and his
womenfolk are stranger.

The whole world seems
strange to thee, Phineas.

Honey.

Honey, we have
to get out of here.

I don't like that
anti-witch talk

that nut Phineas is spreading.

It's dangerous for you.

Now, don't worry, sweetheart.

Aunt Clara is making
some progress.

What do I do with
this laundry bag?

It's not a laundry
bag, it's a pudding bag,

and we have to dip it
in some boiling water.

Oh, uh, we'd better

get a fire started
under that pot.

I'll do it, honey.

Anything else
you'd like me to do?

Witch!

Witch!

There is a witch among us!

There is witchcraft here.

There is a witch among us.

Who, her?

No, him!

Sam, where's Tabatha?

Oh, she's playing
with the other children.

She thinks this is great fun.

Oh, it is.

I wouldn't miss
it for the world.

They can't really burn me

as a witch, can they?

Not... Not while I'm around.

You don't sound too convincing.

I don't? Uh-uh.

Well, I'm certainly trying.

Ye are accused of being a witch.

'Tis a grave charge.

What say ye to it?

It's ridic... Uh,
'tis ridiculous.

I art not now, nor hath
I ever been a witch.

Admit to witchcraft,
or 'twill go ill with you.

You'll be burned for
refusing to confess.

And if I do confess?

Then you'll be burned
for being a witch.

I don't supposeth thine has
heard of thy Bill of Rights?

Can ye not speak more plainly?

What I meaneth to say ith...

I mean, is, hath
I no rights at all?

Indeed, in this village, ye do.

Speak for yourself, John.

Let us hear proper evidence

before lighting any fires.

Aye, John, that will be done.

Tell us, Phineas,

why thou has made
so grave a charge.

I can explain...

I mean, um, I canst explaineth,

if thou wilt but

remove me from these chains.

Do not free him.

It is a witch's trickery.

Were the accused truly a witch,

could mere iron
contain his trickery?

The good woman
speaketh sensibly.

I wouldst release
him from his chains.

Very well.

Oh.

Oh, poor, dear Darrin.

Now, how can a
young man like him

get into such trouble as this?

Oh, I must help him.

Aunt Clara, just concentrate

on trying to remember

how to get us out of here.

Yes, yes, I understand.

I understand and I'll...

I-I really will concentrate.

Thank you.

Oh, it's nothing at all.

Didst thou light the fire

as Master Phineas hath saideth?

I hath lighted the fire,
but not as he hath saideth.

Didst thou strike
a spark to flint?

Or make heat by rubbing
wood against wood?

Nay, I did none of these.

I used a match.

A what?

A match.

'Tis a sliver of wood
with chemicals on it.

I have one here.

There is naught to fear.

See? 'Tis out now.

This object,

that the accused hath
called, um... Match.

A match.

May be a device of witchery.

To test it, we must find out

if any one of us can light it.

Then shall we be able to...

'Twill not work.

It has already been lighted.

'Twill not light again.

Silence.

I only wisheth to
explaineth about matcheth.

Silence.

Continue.

He doth not like my idea,

which leadeth me to believe

it may be sound.

Only a witch can make a fire

from a plain stick of wood.

I wouldst defend the accused.

Sam, you can't defend me.

It's too dangerous.

They believe only a witch
would defend someone

who's accused of being a witch.

That makes me the
logical choice, doesn't it?

You may defend the accused.

I thank thee. First...

But, uh, after Phineas

has presented all his evidence.

The first time the
accused witched me,

I almost dropped a turkey.

It didst not satisfy such as he.

When I carved the fowl, he
wrought his witchery again,

causing me to cut my finger.

And if that is not
sufficient for ye,

I wouldst report his conjuring

this very morn.

How did he greet me this morn?

"Good morrow"?

"Good day"?

"Greetings to thee"?

No.

No, none of these.

This witch didst
raise his hand thusly

and spake the conjure words,

"Hi there. Everything okay?"

How dost thou know
that this be witchery?

Aye, I find the same
question at my lips.

If this be not witchery,

what else couldst it be?

'Twere not a greeting
known to mortal man.

Hast thou not
noticed a strangeness

in his speech, captain?

Aye, that I have.

What be this strangeness

of speech and manner?

Why doth he speak and act

and look different
than all of us?

If 'tweren't for the witchery

within the man?

Woman, hast thou

anything to say in his defense?

Aye.

First, I wouldst
congratulate Master Phineas.

He hath shown us a
way out of difficulties

that all can follow.

Art thou clumsy?

'Tis not thine own fault.

Cry witch.

Art thou forgetful?

Blame not thyself.

Cry witch.

Whatever thy failings,

take not the fault upon thyself.

'Tis more a comfort
to place it on another.

And how do we
decide who is the witch?

'Tis simple.

Again, Master Phineas
hath shown us the way.

Doth someone speak
differently from thee?

A sign of witchery.

Doth he show
different mannerisms?

Witchery, of course.

And should we not find

differences in speech and manner

to support a charge of witchery,

be of good cheer.

There are other differences.

What of he who
looketh different?

What of she whose name
hath a different sound?

If one examineth
one's neighbors closely,

he will find differences enough

so that no one is safe

from the charge of witchery.

But is that what we
seek in this new world?

Methinks not.

The hope of this world
lieth in our acceptance

of all differences,

and a recognition of
our common humanity.

Hear, hear, hear.

But what of the witch's stick?

No fine words canst prove

that he who maketh fire

with a stick of wood
be not the witch.

The honor of such a
test doth go to the man

who hath brought the charges.

To clearly prove that he himself

is not a witch.

Are you afraid to
strike the witch's stick?

Since Phineas hath made

the witch's stick to light,

he must confess himself a witch,

else he must withdraw
all the charges

made against the accused.

Uh, Samantha.

Samantha. Oh, dear.

Oh, it just... It just
came back to me.

Yeah, it came back
to me in a flash.

Oh, it wasn't a flash, really.

It... It... It was a flame.

Yes. A flame.

Uh, the match. The
match reminded me of...

Uh... Master Phineas
hath withdrawn

his charge against the accused.

Wing of fire Eye of flame

We hold the accused innocent

and free him of his bonds.

Take us back To whence we came.

Oh.

Where's Tabatha?

Ohhh. Hi, sweetie.

My goodness, you've had
quite a day, haven't you?

Oh, I hope I didn't
leave anything out

of that incantation.

Uh, uh, uh... Like what?

Like Darrin.

Darrin?!

Darrin?

Darrin! Darrin!

Darrin?

Sam!

Ohhh!

Oh, ha, ha. Mmm.

Abner!

Abner! Wait'll you see this!

Oh!

Ohh.

Oh!

Abner! When you see this,

you'll know that
all the other times

you thought I was
just dreaming...

You'll know I was just dreaming.

Oh, poor Mrs. Kravitz.

Uh-huh.

Mmm.

Darling, it's delicious.

Oh, you... You sure
it isn't overcooked?

No, it's perfect.

The truth is, you
usually undercook turkey.

Uh, this is just
the way I like it.

You mean, you've hated

all the other turkeys
I've ever cooked for you?

No, they were all delicious.

This one, naturally,
is super-delicious.

Oh, thank you, sweetheart.

Oh, well, it's better than
those tough wild turkeys

we had in Plymouth.

Aunt Clara, will you please
pass the cranberry sauce

and, uh, talk about
something else?

Oh, here.

Well, yes,

there is something
I want to talk about.

Now, Christmas
will be here soon.

Now, I have an idea,
uh, where to spend it

that would be very enjoyable

and very educational
for Tabatha too.

Now, look here.

Now, uh, how many children,

uh, have the opportunity

to meet, uh, Santa Claus?

And after all, the,
uh, North Pole

isn't so very far away.

And...

We could all go there
the day before Christmas.