Salem (2014–2017): Season 2, Episode 7 - The Beckoning Fair One - full transcript

Mary and Countess Marburg keep up appearances while continuing their covert battle for Salem.

Previously on "Salem"...

It would appear there is
another enemy at your gates.

Then let us use this common threat

as reason to unite.

I have left a token of my appreciation.

I do know you, Mary.

I know you do not love me now.

But you will.

I was quite capable

of disposing of George in my own manner.

I prefer to have George
in my pocket, not yours.



What happened to you, John?

I fought fire with fire and got burned.

You will kill no witches tonight.

Wrap it 'round with walls of Thorn.

Let his mad love for me be born.

I...

I love you.

You hide in here,

and you wish upon the moon itself

to be as unmarked as you once were.

The last of the true witches.

Do not lie to me.

There could be no
greater error than that.

You know Increase Mather?



Oh, he and I danced a lively jig,

and neither of us left it unmarked.

Search your memory, Cotton.

Surely, your father told you some hint

to exactly how he sent
this siren back to hell.

Would that he had.

I'm afraid all his
secrets died with him.

I never thought I'd say these words...

But I need you...

Increase Mather.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Every man feeds the conqueror worm.

I eat your flesh, so obey, you must.

By my command, moist earth turn.

Give up your dead,
their secrets to tell.

Increase Mather, I call you from Hell.

Alas, poor Increase. I knew him well.

Too well.

Dear Increase...

You really think I'd allow
you to lay hands on me?

Feel better?

No, I thought not.

You always were a slow learner.

Do you understand now?

You... are... dead.

Snatched from the burning
shit pits of Hell to serve me.

If you would speak...

Perhaps in death, you must first learn

what you never did in life... To listen.

Painful, I know, for a man who
lived by the power of his speech

to be silenced.

Or perhaps you weep for all
those voices you silenced.

Or is it just the torments you
now suffer for those crimes.

To give you a voice.

Aww... poor Increase.

Yes.

Now, you, uh... You
wanted to say something?

Go ahead.

God damn your soul to Hell.

Oh, I've already offered
up my soul to Hell.

You, on the other hand, must
have been terribly surprised

to find yourself consigned there.

Nothing could have surprised me less.

No, I've always gone
where all the others...

My idiot son included...
Are too weak to go.

I take the battle to the
very heart of darkness.

I would do it again.

Each man's hell is as
unique as his crimes.

What was yours?

Mine... it is... me...

Strapped into my own torture chair,

beset by a legion of devils,

each wearing my own face,

mortifying my flesh with implements

far more fiendish than any
I could ever have contrived,

gripped in hands as scarred as my own.

No one can imagine or bear

the torments of one's own worst acts.

They say that those of us
who find our hell on earth

will find our heaven in hell.

Even you, I should think,

would not summon me from
my grave simply to gloat.

You lost the battle
for the soul of Salem,

and now you suffer in Hell

without even the consolation of victory.

I want to give you a second chance.

A boon from Mary Sibley,

Satan's favorite whore?

Why would you do anything for me?

You didn't just fail in Salem.

The world knows you for your
great triumph back in Germany,

but that was a failure, too.

The witch you supposedly
killed still lives.

The bitch walks the streets
of Salem at this very moment.

Now help me defeat her for good.

Yes.

Mary Sibley, you're right.

You know, she fooled me
before, but she won't...

She won't do it again.

But before I can teach you how
to destroy her now and forever,

I must observe the bitch's lair.

Where am I?

In Salem... and outside of it.

What do you want, witch?

So much magic on your flesh.

You are becoming what
you hunt, witch hunter.

Careful, or you'll be torn
apart by your own dogs.

I hunt. I am my own dog.

And so you tear yourself apart.

Such a desperate move,

to let a medicine man bind
your soul to the great spirit.

Did they even warn you of the
price you'd pay for such power?

All except the part

where I'd have to spend eternity
listening to your bullshit.

Why don't you just kill me?

Because I am not done with you yet.

Never had much use for men...

But I'm starting to think
I might have some for you.

I'd see you all burn.

Well, I have no problem with that...

As long as they are the right witches.

Is that why you saved Anne Hale?

I did not save Anne Hale from you.

I saved you from her.

It's nothing short of astonishing...

You seized the puritans' heartland

from right out underneath them,

got them to murder 13 of their own kind

to fulfill your Grand Rite,

even had the infinite satisfaction

of using the odious Increase Mather

as your final victim...

Well, this would have been an enormous,

indeed, unprecedented triumph,
but you dared the ultimate...

Unleashing a witch pox

which turns their very
bodies into hell-blood

and opens a new gate
of Hell at their feet.

Mrs. Sibley...

You are indeed a wonder for the ages.

Thank you, Countess.

But I must humbly ask for your help.

Now, with Mr. Sibley
so inconveniently dead,

I must shore up my authority
in these final days.

Your prestige and glamour rule Salem.

I would like to invite

a few of the important
people to a dinner.

For you and, of course,
your son to sit at my table

as my friend and supporter
would make all the difference.

It's a splendid idea.

Yes.

Yes, I was right.

Our interests truly are as one.

You know, Sebastian,
I have always responded

much more to the carrot than the stick.

And what variety of carrot
might you have in mind?

I do not relish having
George's body hanging over me.

If I could truly believe
that you had disposed of it,

I'd be so grateful,

and my gratitude, sir,
could... Raise the dead.

Consider it done.

The last trace of George will be gone

before the night is through.

You will have your chance tonight

to find out if the Countess
is the same witch you fought

all those years ago.

When I see her, I will
know if it really is her.

You see, she bears my
mark, just as I bear hers.

More importantly, I will
find where she keeps it.

It?

One unholy object allows her to maintain

her obscenely long existence.

Destroy it, you destroy her.

But what exactly is this object?

You will learn the
price of that knowledge

once I have located... it.

While she and her son dine here,

you will have the run of her ship.

Cotton loves me.

But if he is spelled to love me,

then how can I ever be
sure his love is real?

I want a man, not a puppet.

Tell me, Brown Jenkins,

is it possible to get everything
one wants and not be happy?

You're not happy either, are you?

What is it you want?

Cheese?

Oh, he simply wants to suckle

and be fed by his mistress.

Oh, come here.

It is the price for
doing all your bidding.

There, now. There.

You should be proud to
bear your witch mark.

But, of course, upon your life,

you must also keep it a secret...

Just as you were supposed to

keep our secret from Mary Sibley.

I should punish you
horribly here and now,

but I will give you a
chance to redeem yourself.

Soon you'll receive an invitation

to dine at the Sibley
mansion this evening.

During dinner, you'll slip away

to steal your father's book of shadows.

There are secrets in that book...

Secrets you and I both need.

Me? Why me?

Because only you can find it.

But how can I find a book
I've never even seen before?

Ah.

Some things only need
to be sought to be found.

Succeed... And all will be forgiven.

But fail...

And, well...

Failure's not really an option, is it?

Welcome back to Andover, Doctor.

There's one more back here.

Uh, he's not yet dead.

Might as well be.

Dum Spiro spero...

While there is breath, there is hope.

My hope, that is.

Hear me, man.

Give me your blessing.

Will you sacrifice yourself so
that countless others may live?

There are secrets you
want opened, Mother.

Leave them to me.

There is no shell so hard
I cannot find a way in...

Though I believe the
lovely widow Sibley,

given time, will open herself
willingly for me, like a rose.

Yes, my dear.

I'm aware that your charms are exceeded

only by your self-regard.

The real question is

whether Mary Sibley is
hiding something from us

or someone is hiding it from her.

You are indeed a sphinx, Ma'am.

Whatever do you mean?

Well, let us just say that I do not know

if she has, in every
sense, what it takes

to complete what she's begun.

But we may find that out tonight
due to her timely invitation.

And if she does not?

What then of the lovely Mary
Sibley and her Essex hive?

Comme toujours, we slay them all.

At last... and you will let
me do it for you, won't you?

With my own hands and teeth?

Ohh!

Is she not lovely now, our Mercy?

She's a rare bloom.

A belladonna, a flowering nightshade...

And must be, for Mercy will
now bring the children to me

so that we may go on blooming.

When have I ever failed you?

Well, never, schatzi. Never.

No, you gathered them
faithfully and well

since you were but a child, yourself.

But time takes its toll on most.

You are too old now, and
the little ones fear you.

Well, it embitters the blood,

and it risks drawing too much attention.

Now, the children will
come willingly to Mercy

as they once did to you.

Besides, you're now ready
for more challenging play.

Mary Sibley.

Mary Sibley...

What a pot of piss, pox, and poison.

That may be so, my dear.

But as every witch knows,

piss, pox, and poison
all have their use.

Where do you think
you are taking my son?

To the woods, where I can keep
him safe from the Countess.

Like you kept George safe?

I warned you not to
underestimate the threat.

And now you invite her here.

Would you have me fight back
the sea waves with a sword?

Sometimes, letting
the undertow carry one

is the only way to escape it.

Come on.

Proud Mary never learns.

Oh, I have learned
much from you, sister,

including where not to place my trust.

No one can protect my son better than I.

What ails you, Mather?

I cannot sleep. I cannot
eat. I cannot read.

Tell me... is love a sickness?

Well, love is an odd fever,

one that longs for that which causes it.

Then there is no cure.

Hmm. None that I can administer.

For my part, I have
found these last days

staring into the riddling face
of death enough to sober me.

What have you seen?

I've been to Andover.

I'm quite sure their pox
was inherited from ours,

and yet the victims there, they...

They do not suffer with this black bile.

Perhaps, as with love,

this fever longs for
some particular end.

For a man of science,
you speak in riddles.

Well, let's just say
I have an opportunity

to observe that end
tonight... An experiment.

Tell me, Reverend, as
a doctor of the soul...

Would it be a sin to
sacrifice one man to save many?

The one must sacrifice
himself, like Christ.

Otherwise, it is not
sacrifice, but murder.

And if one murdered a man about to die,

is that really a crime?

A crime, perhaps not,
but a sin, no doubt.

Ah. I can live with that.

Question is, can you?

I suppose we'll find out.

Then I will call upon you
when the time is right.

Shut up!

And keep spinning, or
feel me mighty wrath.

What are you looking
at? Get back to work.

What are you doing?

Who's gonna pay for that, huh?

You're gonna pay for
this, you little brat!

Get back to work.

I hate formal dinners.

I wish I were an Indian.

I bet they never have
to dress for dinner.

What do you say, Brown Jenkins?

Can you make me an Indian maiden?

No? I thought not.

Well, at least I would
rather not enter alone.

That is the worst part...

When you enter a room and
all eyes turn to judge.

Could you bring Cotton to
my door, to accompany me,

with a bouquet in hand,

poetry on his lips?

Oh!

Thank you!

They're beautiful.

They are but a pale
shadow of your own beauty.

Really?

Truly.

I hope the neighbors
won't miss the flowers.

I've come to walk with
you to Mary Sibley's.

Oh. I was just thinking
how lovely it would... be.

When did you decide to come?

Well, to be honest, I was on my way,

and the thought of you
just dawned in my mind,

like... like the rising sun.

I'll be a few moments.

Must I be here?

You know nothing bores
me quite like a supper.

Whatever Mary Sibley's

insidious intent...

And I don't doubt her
narrow, little mind has one...

Tonight's dinner shall
work for my purposes, too.

How can you still doubt her, Mother?

Salem is clearly well on
its way to hell on earth.

Oh, it takes a harder heart than hers

to open the gate... A heart like mine.

Had not that pious hypocrite
Increase Mather stopped me...

But he did not stop Mary Sibley.

Do not set your heart
on having Mary Sibley.

This may turn out to be her last supper.

If I find her wanting at
anytime, including tonight,

she may not live long
enough for you to bed her,

let alone love her.

A toast... To our new
friends in Salem...

To the indefatigable Mary Sibley,

and to absent friends,
like dear George Sibley,

resting peacefully upstairs.

Let us eat and drink
our fill in honor of him,

exactly as he would wish.

To friends.

To friends.

To friends.

It's been too long, Doctor.

I still remember your last visit

and your palpable taste
for all things Elizabethan.

Even in your fair company,

I find it hard not to think
of the plague that rages on

while we sit and sup here.

I understand, and your
dedication is admirable.

But we are here, and we must eat.

Would you care to carve, Doctor?

Is that the role you wish for me...

The Fiddler at Rome's pyre?

I heard you were a true physician,

but you are rude as a barber surgeon.

Where are your manners?

I must have misplaced them.

Perhaps in the same dark cabinet
where you keep your morals.

I think we can all agree
what a terrible thing it is

that people are dying of plague

while we feast off this fine China.

Terrible.

But no more terrible than life itself.

The world is as it is.

On this, at least, we agree.

Are you both so certain

that things cannot
somehow be made fairer?

Life was not designed to be fair.

If it was designed at all.

Hush, now, or the magistrate here

will have to bring you
up on charges of atheism,

and it does so go against
all rules of decorum

to have to testify
against one's dinner guest.

Very well, then.

If the good doctor will
not perform for you,

I am more than happy to play his role.

Ladies and... gentlemen...

If you will indulge me a moment.

I have a-a question
to put to miss Hale,

and, um, I ask it in the sight of god

and all of Salem's finest.

Anne...

Will you marry me?

Forgive me. I...

I'm quite overcome.

I just need some time to compose myself.

Excuse me.

You dare to call yourself magistrate

and treat your fellow man like that?

Indians... Godless heathens.

There is no law against
driving a hard bargain.

Finally, I plied them with port.

By the time the night was through,

they gave me all the furs
they trapped that season

in exchange for two dull
axes and a moth-eaten blanket.

Like piggies at the trough...

Little knowing how soon they
will be led to the slaughter.

Some of them have their uses.

True enough, I suppose.

Mr. Hathorne will make a fine
puritan beard for us to wear...

Greedy and easily
manipulated... So he will live.

Young Mather, on the other hand...

Is harmless.

Hardly.

Filled with passion and ideals...

There's very little more
dangerous than that combination.

No, he must die.

So, young Mather can
join his father in Hell.

And, of course, the
handsome Dr. Wainwright...

He shall die first of all...

Too fearless, too intelligent,
above all, too curious.

Wouldn't you agree?

After all, as you'll soon
learn, if you've not already,

it's precisely sacrifice
that fuels our work.

You might say that
sacrificing what we most love

is the key to opening... All doors.

Are they cultivated?
No. They hunt and...

What are you doing in here?

Escaping a boring dinner
and a drunken fiancé.

Out.

You must know a great deal
about witchcraft, Reverend,

to make such fine distinctions.

I studied the matter in college.

My family is also well-versed.

But I continue to read and
continue to learn when I can.

Learning. Really?

Is that what they call it these days?

Come, child. We must go.

My mother said to stay inside.

Your mother does not
understand the danger here.

Now, come with me.

No. She said I didn't have to go.

I was to stay here! I
want to see my mother!

Shh! There is no time. Come on.

Light and truth.

This roast is most delicious.

I quite agree.

Hathorne, would you pass the salt?

How will such a college
be paid for, Mather?

That matter we discussed this morning...

Removing all traces of George.

We just did.

I'm sorry.

I know I was supposed to stay
in my room... but I was scared.

Oh, that's all right, love.

We all get scared sometimes.

And who is this... precious little boy?

This is George's nephew.

And where are his parents?

Slaughtered by Indians.

We have only just ransomed him back.

He is unused to civilized company

and most naughty for
interrupting our dinner.

Tell Nathaniel to take you
to bed and read you a story.

He is a most precious, little lamb.

Anne.

Cotton!

I've been looking for you.

Is that an answer?

To what?

W... to my proposal.

Yes.

Yes? Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

Oh, love.

No, I'm sorry, Cotton,
I can't. Not like this.

- Mather?
- Not tonight.

You said you wanted to be there.

Well, it's time for you to
protect my immortal soul.

Goodnight, then.

Good night.

We were both born free, John Alden...

And both ended slaves to the same woman.

Not me. Not anymore.

If that were true, witch hunter,

Mary Sibley would be dead by now.

What do you want from me?

For now, I am content
merely to scratch an itch.

But soon, when the time is right,

you shall be the thing that
I hold over Mary Sibley.

You shall be my weapon
in this witch war.

I heard rumors you perform autopsy.

Autopsy is performed on the
dead, vivisection on the living.

What you propose is a mortal sin.

Here, take the lamp.

You may say whatever words
you think your God might like.

I have none for such an occasion.

A silent clergyman...

Perhaps the divine exists after all.

What in God's name?

His organs have liquefied into bile.

Oh.

It's as though the bile consumes
its victim from the inside out.

How far do you think it goes?

All the way to Hell.

So beautiful.

Indeed.

I can still see her...

Hear her golden laugh yet in my e...

Not her, him... the boy.

A poor war orphan? What of him?

All my questions are answered.

Mary Sibley indeed has
everything she needs

to complete what she has begun,
but she doesn't know what it is.

She's almost as dim as you.

Do you know how long it's been

since I saw even a glimpse
of my dark lord's face?

Why, the mountains
themselves were young then.

And now... so close.

He is already inside the boy.

And come the comet...
We shall let him out.

Mercy.

There's a reason

we use the tub for that, mercy.

Oh, I know. I'm so sorry.

It was just... Oh, it was so good.

You will be sorry, you
filthy, little wretch!

Children, children...

It's only a little blood.

Come along, Mercy.

It's intoxicating, isn't it?

Mm.

Oh, I was going to

give her the girl anyway.

Perhaps we can squeeze a
few more drops out of her.

I want Mercy to look her best tomorrow.

Why? What is tomorrow?

Mm, tomorrow,

you will fetch me a most special lamb.

Who's there?

I must be going mad.

You're dead.

This can't be.

I killed you.

What is it you want?