Salem (2014–2017): Season 2, Episode 5 - The Wine Dark Sea - full transcript

Mary and her tormentor, Countess Marburg, meet face-to-face.

Previously on "Salem"...

Cotton! Aah!

John was the only man I ever loved.

And the saddest part is,
he died not knowing it.

But you're dead.

You cannot hide behind your
husband anymore, Mary Sibley.

What do you want from me?

Silence your bitter enemy, Hathorne.

I'll try and be gentle.

Don't bother.

We will meet again, little owl.



Until then, tell no one that we have met.

Their time for knowing me is not yet.

I shall use the young Anne
Hale to make a water charm

to warn me if it draws near.

I have been feeling something nearly new.

What is it, my love?

Excitement.

Mmm.

What wind fills your jaded sails?

Mary Sibley.

You have been most selfish and cruel.

Days ago, your hag kissed her,
and you tasted her very essence.

Well, I have told you everything.

Told me, yes.



But I want to taste her.

You let me taste Anne Hale. Why not her?

I'm still swirling it myself for insight.

These are simple folk.

What could possibly elude you?

We're not all as obvious
as you, my dear son.

Unlike men,

women keep their most
sensitive parts hidden within.

And our beautiful Mary Sibley...

now, she has more and
deeper secrets than most.

Such as?

It's clear that she has
launched the grand rite.

But how can she hope to
complete the consecration

without a sacrificial lamb?

Perhaps you give her too much credit.

Perhaps she is merely ignorant

of what a true consecration demands.

I doubt it.

She's hardly what I'd call a wise woman,

but she's no fool.

She knew enough to take the
only virgin witch in her hive

and use her to make a warning sign,

and worse, to seal my little
peephole into her kingdom.

The minx.

By your leave, ma'am,
I would sip her essence.

Or perhaps you are jealous,

afraid I will like the taste too much.

Very well.

Just once.

Bitter, sweet, and sharp,

like tears in wine.

I must have more.

Don't be a greedy boy.

You will see her soon enough.

The "little minx," as you call her,

has forced my hand.

Tell the captain to lift anchor,

and once he has made his
way out of Boston Harbor,

I will send a stiff wind
to speed our way to Salem.

And to Mary Sibley.

Oh, before you go, Schatzi, a little help?

Good day, Mother.

John.

Is everything all right?

You were screaming last night.

It scared me.

Oh, it was but a harmless nightmare.

You did not look scared.

Were you in here?

What did you see?

Answer me.

If you wanted to know
how it felt to be a slave,

you had but to ask.

I hope the good doctor cured
whatever it was that ailed you.

What I do to arouse my
powers is no concern of yours.

You are wrong.

Everything you do or
fail to do is my concern.

Our new magistrate has called

an emergency meeting of
the selectmen this midday.

What does that ass want now?

They say Hathorne offers a way
to save Salem from the plague...

your head on a platter.

Mm. He is hardly the
only one who wishes that.

And I shall be as prepared for him

as I am for the others
who would take me on.

What happened to you, John?

I fought fire with fire and got burned.

John, please.

John, please. Let me out of here!

"The spawn of a witch be a witch."

Be quiet!

Or I'll put you back to sleep for good.

Let me out of here so we can just talk!

Okay, talk.

I understand the hate
you feel for my family,

but must you avenge yourself on my books?

I'll take what I need.

And destroy my life's
collection in the process.

What are you after?

To finish the job that you
and your father couldn't.

You are one man, a wanted man at that.

It's a fool's errand.

You should know.

You come from a long line of them.

I know more about the
prey you hunt than anyone.

Let us join forces.

Nah.

This time, I work alone.

And face death on your own, as well?

I do not fear death.

No man alive doesn't fear death.

Who says I'm alive?

What happened to you, John?

What did you mean, "fire with fire?"

Do you like being a mouse, Jenkins?

Though are you really a mouse

or a familiar, whatever that may be?

I will tell you a secret,
Little, Brown Jenkins.

I do not think I like being a witch.

Oh, Mr. Hathorne.

You'll find me ill-prepared
for visitors at present.

If you'd call later...

Sadly, I come on an urgent matter

best discussed behind closed doors.

Have you given thought to
our earlier conversation?

About the dangers

facing a young, orphaned,
unattached maiden?

Yes. Threats surround me.

They say the most treacherous of wolves

may appear in a lamb's cloak.

So true.

No, there is talk in Salem, much talk,

about you and your trip from Boston.

I rode with Reverend Mather.

It was perfectly innocent. He is...

The talk is of witchcraft.

A militia man guarding
the entrance to Salem

was brutally killed.

But I had nothing to do with that.

Your accuser is a drunkard and a thief...

in fact, a disgrace to his position.

But talk, like fire,

needs but a breath to propel it.

You remember the pitiful
fate of young Bridget Bishop?

Indeed.

Who could forget seeing a
dear, innocent friend hung?

There is but one sure way

to avoid you suffering the same fate,

if not a worse one...
burning at the stake...

Marry me.

Sir, I... I hardly
think this is the time...

No, it is indeed the only time,

considering your predicament.

Forgive me, magistrate.

Since the recent death of my parents,

my fragile mind is so clouded.

Let me cut through the
clouds and be very clear.

As wife of the magistrate,
no one would dare accuse you.

But if you rebuff my overture,

I can do nothing to protect you.

Dollie, hurry up!

You're late for breakfast!

The lord hates a laggard. Right, Father?

For that which we are about to receive,

may the lord make us truly grateful.

Amen.

Now let's eat.

Don't worry.

I'm no puritan torturer.

He feels nothing, thanks
to my little physic.

But I will have my fill.

You're not hungry?

Mercy, my friend, my
sister, what are you doing?

Doing?

What I am doing is a
great honor to poor Isaac.

When I have eaten you to death,

I will command your ghostly spirit,

and you shall enjoy the greatest
role of your miserable life...

as the assassin that Mary
Sibley never saw coming.

That loathsome lizard Hathorne

plans to challenge us today, challenge you.

I humiliated him in front of
the whole common yesterday,

but I fear I went too far.

The problem with cornering a rat

is you give them no choice but to attack,

and you must be ready.

Ready? What more do you want from me?

I lied in the face of my own selectmen,

threw a white veil over all you've done.

You fool.

Repeat after me ... "I am nothing."

I am nothing.

Your every breath is at my whim.

Thinking you even capable of helping,

for being even slightly
worthy of continued existence,

let alone any measure of real life.

No, no, I should just be done with you now.

No!

I beg you, ignore my vile words.

I'm nothing, a worm,

not worthy of the effort
it'd take to kill me.

That's right.

So understand this...

there is more work to be done, George.

Rise to this occasion,
not only will you live,

but you may yet taste real delights.

Yes, mistress.

Excellent.

The last of the Founding
Fathers must rise up

and protect our good name.

I'm depending on you, George,

to show Salem that you are
still a giant among men.

Oh! I didn't see you there.

I need to see Mrs. Sibley.

I was told to wait in here.

And who are you?

My name is Anne. I...

Your hair...

Yes.

... It looks like fire
and smells of cinnamon.

Oh!

I wonder what it will
smell like when you burn.

Burn?

I see you've met our nephew.

That boy is a relation of yours?

Of Mr. Sibley's. He's
staying with us a spell

Your nephew's words were unsettling.

He's unlike any boy I've ever met.

Have you met many?

Hathorne came to me today.

That man is no end of trouble.

He demanded I marry him,

and if I refuse,

he's all but promised to have
me examined for witchcraft.

Ooh, unfortunate, since you are a witch.

I braved the horrors of that
hag in that well for you.

Now you must help me.

And I shall.

I will tell you exactly what to do...

marry him.

But you said you would protect me.

'Tis the way of the world, for now.

We women are utterly
defenseless without a man.

A woman's beauty is her only power,

so for us, a man's
power must be his beauty.

I had to endure

the sweaty molestations of
Mr. Sibley for his power.

Now you will do the
same 'neath Mr. Hathorne.

I could no more marry him

than I could a pox-ridden
drunkard from knockers hole.

Perhaps there is another choice.

I doubt you're ready to make it happen.

What? Anything.

Please tell me, I beg you.

Set your sights higher, dear girl.

Convince Cotton Mather to marry you.

However low Cotton has fallen,

he is still the confluence
of two great rivers...

the Cottons and the Mathers,

the two most prominent and
richest families in the land.

When you are Anne Mather,

the magistrate wouldn't dare
accuse you of being a witch.

He is very kind and tender,

and perhaps if I went to him
and explained about Hathorne...

Do not fool yourself.

Whatever he feels for you,

Cotton will not ask you to marry him,

not of his own free will.

How do you know?

Because he's married to his books

and his bottle and his self-pity.

And on top of that, he's still in love

with another whom he can never have...

a whore named Gloriana.

Then what use even mentioning him?

Remember what you are, Anne...

a witch.

You have no need to wait for
men to make their choices.

You must make it for him.

Perhaps he will simply choose to have me.

Well, give him that
opportunity if you must,

but be prepared to do
what is necessary or burn.

If you would control a man's heart,

you must first control your own.

You must take a piece of
him and leave a piece of you

and offer up something that you love.

Is that all?

Not quite.

There are words to be spoken.

But first, there is the matter

of the countess you met in Boston.

Tell me everything you know of her.

I don't know what you're talking about.

If there is one thing

you should take away from
this conversation, child,

it's this...

you are in my hive.

I'm your Samhain, and
you are an Essex witch.

You cannot hide anything from me.

Please,

do not make me betray my promise.

I fear what she will do if I speak of her.

Fear what I will do or
won't do if you do not.

She calls herself

the Countess Ingrid Palatine Von Marburg.

Shh. Shh.

Her heart is so filled with hate.

You let her pour her
vitriol on me, not you.

I'm already destroyed.

No, you are not.

You have a strong heart and a dear one.

I knew from the moment
that you first looked at me.

No trace of the hatred that I deserved,

only forgiveness.

You had no choice.

No.

We all have a choice.

We have nothing else.
We always have a choice.

And I choose you.

Dollie!

Don't anger her more.

You must go.

Please. I couldn't bear
to see her hurt you.

Go.

Nobody can know I'm alive.

Kill me if you will.

I told you once before when
you held a knife to my throat,

I am ready for hell.

But let me say two words before you do...

Mary Sibley.

What about her?

I saw her yesterday.

I saw her as I've never seen her before,

as a woman in love... with you.

You'd never know she
suffers the torments of hell

believing that you had
died without knowing.

Knowing?

That she has always loved you.

And she still does.

Will you not put her out of her misery?

Lord knows I may.

Cotton?

Cotton, please open the door.

I know you're inside.

Lamb told me you've
been locked away all day.

I need your advice.

Something of mine. Something of his.

Let the blame fall on me.

Cotton.

I have no father to ask,

and you are the best man I
know, the wisest and the kindest,

so you must advise me.

Um, certainly, anything.

Um...

What is it?

Hathorne has asked me to marry him.

What?

How dare he?

No. He has much to
offer... safety, security.

Do you think I should marry him?

Uh, I... I... I don't know what to say.

If you say I should, I shall.

Do you love him?

What has love to do with
marriage in such a world?

I... I'm sorry.

This is all very sudden,

and the... the moment is very ill-timed.

I fear I have no advice for you.

I'm sorry.

As am I.

I'm sorry.

Surely God does not intend his flock

to perish at the hands of
devil worshipers and plague.

Instead, I believe these are omens

sent from the almighty

to tell us we must all leave Salem...

... continue our exodus
south to the Carolinas,

to a land which was settled

and owned by my family for two generations,

where the soil is fertile,

where a puritan man may plant his seed

and watch his family grow.

Our promised land awaits.

And so, humbly, I stand before you,

divinely called to be your
Moses and lead you there!

George Sibley was a giant in his day,

but the sun has set on that day.

And if it is not to set on all our days,

we must have a new leader.

Yes, yes.

George, say something.

George!

I ask you this simple question...

did god intend you to be
led to the true promised land

by a man who cannot even walk?

George, oppose him now.

This is your last chance
to end your suffering.

Moses!

Damned impudence

to appoint oneself our Moses

and claim to do so humbly.

This man's pride is worthy
of Satan himself, not Moses.

Much greater men than you, sir,

made a covenant with the almighty,

and they landed on these shores...

men named Endecott, Skelton,

Alden, and Sibley!

We crossed the river Jordan

to this, our promised land, Salem,

not some inherited parcel
from which we could...

Mr. Sibley, how dare you?!

Silence!

We have overcome crop failures,

epidemics, Indian raids, even witches.

Shall we abandon our promised land now?

What would the lord himself say to that?!

God hears us and speaks!

You're sure it is her?

Yes. There can be no doubt.

It is the countess Anne told me of.

And as her ship bears down
upon us from the wine dark sea,

the boiling increases.

Oh, I should have known.

The way the hag kissed you...
that is the German witch's way.

It's one of her signatures.

- Calm yourself.
- Calm myself?

You never heard or heeded
the stories the elders told,

never interested yourself in history.

No, only in the future.

More is the pity.

Did you never wonder what happened

to the witches of the other old lands...

the Scythians, the Magyars, the Roma?

Only a handful of the old breeds survive,

hidden in Burrows or scattered
like dust on the wind.

What happened to them?

Not witch hunters, but her.

I am not of the old breed, but the new,

and I'm not afraid of her.

You perhaps, but what of the boy?

For his safety, I should
take him back to the woods.

Fine, just for tonight.

But hurry back,

for I have had fair warning,
but they shall have none.

You'll damn your soul to hell, my child.

No, no. You did that.

And as long as I must dwell in hell,

I might as well rule it.

How will you do that?

Destroy Mary Sibley, beginning tonight.

I shall finish with Isaac.

I shall eat his heart
straight from his chest,

and then his ghost will be mine to command.

She'll kill you if she catches you.

Be quiet so she doesn't.

Aah!

Sorry. I'm sorry.

Shh, shh, shh, shh.

Shh, shh!

You foolish child.

Aah!

You've done well, George.

Continue to aid me with the
same vigor and authority,

and you shall have all you've
been promised and so much more.

I may even let you have a
taste of what you never have...

your own willing wife.

But not now, not tonight.

If I'm to have the full
measure of your manhood,

I need you well-rested,

and I have work to do.

Such a good boy, aren't you?

happy to have a little sleep for me

and dream of all that's
to come when you awake?

Aw.

The ship approaches. We must do something.

It is time to aim for the
rails of our enemy's ship.

I don't like it.

I fear you facing her alone
will prove too dangerous.

Then guard me well.

Haul in the sail!

Like brass to fire, like stick to flame,

heed my words, know my name.

Faster than light, dark corners seek.

Lick to flame, my vengeance wreak.

Fire! Fire below!

All hands on deck!

Fire in the hold!

All hands! All hands!

All hands!

What a pleasant surprise.

You stalk the halls of my home,

yet you stand on the ship before me.

How?

My gifts go far beyond

the rudimentary powers
of your witch stick...

Or your attempt to burn my ship.

Your flames have been snuffed out.

The flames have fulfilled
their intended purpose.

You and I are alone.

Alone with one you clearly know nothing of.

And yet I know so much about you,

except for the few secrets
that you keep so well.

Come.

Find my secrets, if you dare.

Oh, no.

For the future of the grand rite,

let us trade words for now, not wounds.

I will admit you're impressive
for a common Essex witch.

Has our hive not survived

when so many others have perished?

Yes.

But your strength is also your weakness.

You are, as you said, a hive

filled with lovely, little
bees, but no true queen.

You are in reality mere sister drones,

little, meek equals whose power is shared.

Why, you're like the foot of a pyramid.

But you will make a fine and mighty base

for one more naturally designed to rule.

You?

Well, you can put a crown on a sow's head

and it doesn't make it a queen.

A true queen is not made.

She is born in the earth's womb
and destined to rule forever.

You arrogant bitch.

I know about you and all your failures.

You won't touch a hair on my head.

Anne Hale told me you were desperate

to know who completed the grand rite.

Now you know.

I alone succeeded where you failed.

Oh, mighty queen of failure.

I completed the grand rite,

and I alone will open the
gate for our dark lord.

Tis my accomplishment and none of your own.

No, that's where you
are wrong, little sister.

Your accomplishment is not
only my concern, but my destiny.

Listen, old thing.

You gave up your birthright

when increase Mather snatched it away.

- Your grand rite died a failure.
- Careful.

Your next word may be your last.

Your words are nothing but air.

We both know you need me.

You need me to complete the consecration.

I hold the reins, not you.

And terrorizing my hive
and killing one of my own

will not sway me from my destiny.

You're right.

I do need you.

But soon, you will come to
see how much you need me, too.

And you are gravely
mistaken, little sister.

Other than our watery encounter,

I've not touched an Essex witch yet.

It would appear there is
another enemy at your gates.

Then let us use this common threat

as reason to unite.

What difference does it make

who holds the key and who opens the gate?

All witches will benefit
from our dark lord's arrival.

Let us work together in this noble cause.

What I cannot understand

is how such a one as you

came from so low and dishonest a hive

and how you tolerated their lies

and their mistreatment for all these years.

Time and again,

they have robbed you of your
most precious possession...

your free will.

Correct me if those Essex
whores have ever treated you

as what you have always been...

their natural superior.

No, for I promise you
only this, Mary Sibley.

I will never doubt your true worth.

And as evidence of my pledge,

in your house,

I have left a token of my appreciation.

Tituba.

Tituba.

Find them!

This way.

If I do nothing,

I must burn as a witch

or cede my body and soul
to that horrible man.

I know what I do is wrong,
taking a good man's will,

but what choice do I have?

A black rose grow in his heart.

Write my name and let it start.

Wrap it round with walls of Thorn.

Let his mad love for me be born.

I left my best ribbon, something of mine.

I took his hair, something of his.

What else?

Something I love.

But I have nothing and no one to love.

In the light of dawn,

we shall weigh Marburg's pledge of peace.