Penny Dreadful (2014) s02e03 Episode Script

Previously on Penny Dreadful: Words came to me blindly, like an animal instinct.
I don't even know what I said.
You knew them.
What are they? Nightcomers.
Witches.
- And your interest in Miss Ives? - That wicked cunt is not your concern.
Let her follow the breadcrumbs to me.
Tell me where I might find peace.
- Not even my prayers are safe.
- What are we protecting her from? You can't help me.
This is a battle I must fight on my own.
My old friend Miss Ives won't escape me.
The Master won't be denied his prize.
Do you believe the past can return? - Sister.
- Help me.
Save me from him.
It never leaves us.
It is who we are.
God help us then.
What is this? It's no concern of yours.
Let me help you.
Tell me what's going on.
It's something I haven't told anyone.
Then tell me.
It all began several years ago.
And far from here.
The moors of the west country.
I went in search of answers to who I was.
To a woman I came to know as The Cut-Wife of Ballentree Moor.
She was the first witch I ever met.
You can move now.
You want me to kill your baby? What? - No.
- You come for the love poultice then? You want a dandy man to be wooing you like.
No.
Then the ague? The head-stammers? The pain in your joints when you take your man or kneel to the God? No, I Why are you here? You're not like them others.
I'm not.
I'm like no others.
I am like no others.
That's why I'm here.
I have a scar on my back.
Tell me how I got it.
Tell me.
How am I to know? Right here.
You go right here inside your mind.
Close those eyes.
You feel my spine through my fingers.
Do this or turn around and take your pretty cunt elsewheres.
Do this, I tell you.
That's it, girl.
Good.
You're strong-willed and agile.
Like the scorpion.
Feel around my skull with your claws.
Yes.
Behind my eyes, you feel my bones down my spine.
Yes.
Now, feel out to my skin, to my past.
- To my pain.
- Yes.
What do you feel? A woman.
Her nails on your back.
No, no.
Not her nails.
Hotter.
- Burning.
- Yes.
Burning Burning my skin.
A branding iron.
You can enter now.
Leave everything you were outside this door.
Everything you are, bring with you.
Clean that off your face.
Makes you look like an animal.
I know you've been with a man, so you're closer to the beasts than the angels, yeah? Why are you on the moor? No one come here without they want to see me.
Unless you're a poacher.
Which you don't look.
I came to see you.
You can sit.
Even where I come from, we've heard of you.
I'm famous.
Hear that? They say you have powers.
What they call me, where you come from? The Cut-Wife of Ballentree Moor.
You know why they call me that? Because when the girls need a little baby killed inside them they come to me.
I cut it out.
Cut-wife.
Fetching name, you think? I don't think so.
The local people come here only when they can't go no place else.
They hate me for what I do, but they come.
For this, for that.
For all that ails mankind, girl.
My name is Vanessa Ives.
We're not courting.
I don't want your name.
I came because I think you can tell me why I am like I am.
And how's that? How you are? Cursed.
I believe I'm cursed to see things not of this world.
I have a friend named Mina who reached out to me in my mind.
I saw her.
But she was not there.
She needs my help.
Then go find you a constable.
Thee and me got nothing to talk about here.
You want a salve for your heartache, I can give you that.
You want herbs to ease the gout, I can give you that.
You want to poison your baby brother I can give you that and laugh while I do it.
But if you think you are touched by the demon then you best walk out that door, because what I can give you for that is only knowledge you don't want, little girl.
Who branded you? Who did that to you? Someone you loved.
Someone You trusted.
Someone you kissed once.
A woman, a sister.
Your sister.
If I'm right, then let me stay.
You want to learn? - Yes.
- Everything? - Yes.
- You're not frightened? - No.
- Why you want to learn the arts? To find out what I am.
- And if the answer you don't like? - Better to know.
Not really.
Look at them.
What do they say to you? Nothing.
I said look at them.
What is your friend's name? Mina.
Have you kissed her? Yes.
- Do you trust her? - Yes.
Would she do you harm? Never.
Feel her lips now.
Feel her.
Now, put your hand over the cards, like so.
Just your fingers.
Now, let them move.
Believe.
What do I do now? You'll know.
Do I turn it over? There's no need.
There's stew in the pot.
You can sleep on the sofa.
Casting the tarot is a gift.
When you know the arcana you can hear the echoes of time in your ear.
- And the meaning? - You'll learn.
They are never always as they seem.
The devil card? Not always the demon from hell or the throat slit at midnight.
It can mean other things.
Tell me what.
- Evil? - Do better.
A dark lover approaching bringing terror.
Irresistible.
Part of you, but not.
The whisper of something ghastly and beautiful.
That's more the feeling.
Mandragora.
Used to expel the stillborn baby and brings sleeping terrors in the right amounts.
Solanum nigrum.
Nightshade botanical.
Remember it.
Were you born with the gift? I learned it.
You were born with it.
How do you know that? Because I see your pain, girl.
You always been like you are, even as a little thing.
You know that.
Come on, we got work.
Old woman alone works hard.
The peasants pay me little for my craft.
Fuck them.
Worse than animals.
Break its neck.
Put those on the shelves by their like.
Keep the nightshades together, yeah? Tell me about your mother.
No.
I'll tell you.
She's dead.
But she was very much like you.
Strong-willed.
Imperious.
Fucked other men, not your father.
Yes.
You saw them at it? Your mother and these men.
Did you like watching? No.
You did.
Your little secret gave you power, eh? You're in danger, you know that? You bring danger here, too.
But I'm an old woman.
For me, it brings spice to my last days, but for you Give me the salt there.
You have to learn to protect yourself.
From whom? Legions.
Legions of what? So many names, I'd die before I go through them all.
- Start with a few.
- There's your mother's eyes.
- Stop it.
- But not when she died.
Her eyes were different, then, weren't they? - You're a terrible woman.
- Not half so terrible as you.
I knew it the first time I felt you, this danger.
I wanted to scream and bolt the door.
Curl up in my little bed and sleep and sleep.
But you came closer.
I felt you every step across the moor.
They felt you too.
They'll be here soon.
I felt you walking to my door, felt you standing there.
By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.
This girl you kissed.
Mina.
How you supposed to help her? I don't know, but she appeared to me for a reason.
Everything have a reason, does it? This did.
You're going to save her? Yes.
Stay here.
Do not move from that seat, hear me? Sister.
Sister.
How's your back? Old wounds don't hurt.
Don't they? - Send her out.
- I am not in the giving vein.
When were you ever? I'm pleased you still remember the old tongue.
Once heard, never forgotten.
But you're so very old.
Isn't your mind slipping a bit? - And you are young as ever.
- Yes.
That's rather the point.
Give up your soul for that, sure.
So, with that, you still live, eh? God, sister, how you speak.
Like a talking potato.
You never change.
Except, of course, in every way that matters.
Do send her out.
Don't be obstinate.
There's still plenty of flesh on you for burning.
And why her so much? Because she is the one the Master seeks above all.
As you must have sensed, old woman.
Now, bring her to me.
You cannot pass the stones.
This we both know.
So, stand here until you rot.
Why don't you come to me then? Kiss me, sister, as we did in the old times when we were a coven of sisters.
Coiled together like adders, like adders in the sands of Egypt like hawks over Golgotha like all things that come together and find strength as one.
As it was before when you, too, were young and smiled and had such dreams.
Come to me, sister.
Embrace me.
The Master awaits you.
He will kiss you and hold you fast enfolding your body like a lover.
No.
She is wasted on you.
Give her to me.
You have no power in the circle.
You can't protect her forever.
And how long can you last? Those bones are brittle.
Do you really want this to be your last battle? It is the only battle.
My totems.
For protection.
- Do they work? - Yes.
But I can't remember which ones.
Pretty, isn't it? We must prepare for battle.
When it comes, it comes fully and to the end.
Too much salt.
Who were they? Who? You know who I mean.
Nightcomers.
Witches.
My sister.
My coven of yore.
In these parts, away from the city away from all things like that we learn such things as we used to know when the old gods walked.
We were Daywalkers, then.
Harmless dabblers in herbs and healing.
And then? My sister followed another path like.
The coven followed.
I did not.
So they cast me out, burned me as a traitor.
They became those as walks at night following the devil for what he promises them.
Deceiver, father of beasts.
What does he promise them? What does everyone seek? Power, youth, beauty, love.
To walk alongside such as know the great midnight arts.
Those arts, you know.
All those sacred midnight things.
Don't fret so, girl.
They can't pass the stones.
Only them that's full humankind can do that.
You have a little baby you need cut, yeah? What you have for me? What else? Yeah, come in.
You go upstairs.
No.
I'll help.
Get that tarpaulin in the corner and the bucket there.
On the floor.
Was a sail on a ship long time ago.
It's waxed for them storms, you know, at sea.
Pull up your skirt and lie down.
- What do you want me to do? - Get ready with the bucket.
Be quiet.
Think about this next time you let that dandy man put his hand in your skirt.
What will I do with you girls? What will I do with you girls? Look into my eyes.
Just look at me.
Don't look away.
God forgives all.
Beasts.
Only hushed when they're at their feeding.
Quiet them down.
You don't know how long I've been trying to get the land.
It's a homestead deed from Cromwell.
Cromwell himself, I mean.
I know who you mean.
But, my darling, you own most of the county.
Surely, you can get that one woman out? Not by law.
I've offered ten times its worth.
The old witch won't be moved.
It seems such a shame.
For a man like you.
A man of prestige, not to be able to graze his cattle to the river of his choice.
Seems a kind of weakness.
I do not admire that.
My dear, one piece of land means nothing to us.
As far as your eye can see, it's mine.
I suppose I'm something of a completist.
It doesn't matter.
Shall we ride? Grazing rights won't mean much, anyway, if the cattle keep dying.
What do you mean? There's some sort of blight.
The surgeons haven't a clue.
Lost four head last night.
Whole county will be ruined if that keeps up.
You'll figure something out.
Darling? But you must remember, such incantations are dangerous.
And you must never speak the devil's language idly.
Let this language not become easy in your mouth or soon, it will no longer be your mouth, but his and it will tell only lies.
For he is the father of lies.
If you believe in God, better you pray with all you got in you.
Only if all else fails you speak the devil's tongue.
But mark, girl, it's a seduction and before you blink twice, it's all you can speak.
And so does a Daywalker become a Nightcomer.
Comfrey.
Protection of travelers.
How? Blanched and then crushed.
Hidden in the left pocket.
They send their girls to me but for this very service, they despise me.
So it is always for those who do for women.
Old as I am, I know nothing.
Why people in this world hate what is not them.
Why they fear all they don't know.
Why they hate themselves most of all.
For being weak, for being old.
For being everything altogether that is not god-like.
Which of us can be that? Monsters all, are we not? Some perhaps more than others.
Is that what you feel? Yes.
Then it will be true.
As long as you feel it so.
Get on your knees.
Do not be ashamed of your desires.
There is no pleasure, no degradation I do not savor.
Bow your head.
Lower.
Stop it.
I shall tell you when you can speak.
Until then, you'll listen.
Mute.
Plaything.
Toy.
Slave.
Beast.
Fucking.
Man.
What would your vassals think, seeing you like this? Brought low and servile.
Would they laugh? I think they would.
So weak.
Letting your cattle die, letting your estate die while that old woman laughs at you.
Can you hear her laughing? I can.
Such a superstitious lot, your neighbors.
Those thick tenants working your land with their hands in shit up to their elbows.
But they can be led.
And they can kneel, too.
They were born to it.
It was going to happen, girl.
Sooner, later.
But it's now.
I've not had a happy life.
But it has been my life.
Let me get a doctor, please.
For this ailment, there is no cure.
Not the surgeon or the poultice.
I have lived too long, is my ailment.
- Nonsense.
You're strong as a pirate.
- Then cast my tarot.
You already have.
And did you not teach me that the cards have many meanings? Don't be fresh.
Get my pipe.
I want you to stay here.
What do you mean? I want you to live here after I'm gone.
I make this your land.
- I can't.
- I have never known a Daywalker with such power.
- And how will you use it? - To help my friend.
One girl.
Ballentree Moor is a poor, forgotten place with many girls who need help.
This place needs its cut-wife.
Vanessa.
You mean, papistry? I mean, far worse than Rome.
I mean sorcery.
What proof do you have? What proof do you need beyond the blight on the cattle? The very herds that went across that bitch's land.
You think this is mere happenstance? Those cattle die, this town dies.
She is an evil woman.
And you know what she does there? The sanctity of life, sir.
Yes.
And is it necessary for me to remind you that your pastoral employment relies entirely upon my good will? As does the employment of every blessed man, woman and child in Ballentree.
What you eat, I deign to give you.
Sir Geoffrey.
Come to the tavern tomorrow night.
We've God's work to do.
You're the little quim with the witch.
I've heard about you.
She didn't tell me you were so pretty.
Answer me, girl.
Do you know who I am? This is my land.
That makes you a poacher.
I could have you branded right there.
We do such things here.
We do such things as you never could imagine.
Eh, girl? Quiet girl.
Quiet girl.
Quiet girl.
Maybe I'll make you scream.
Scream for me.
Go on, child, scream for me.
Come not near me or mine again, eh? May the angels bless the lord protector, Mr.
Cromwell.
Granted the land to me in perpetuity.
Not even the high-and-mighty Sir Geoffrey can steal it off me.
Long as Parliament sits, this pile of dung is mine.
When you say he granted it to you To me, girl.
After the second Battle of Newbury this was.
He was on the run.
I gave him succor here, having no love of the Royalists for they had none for us poor folk or womenfolk.
Ugly man, really.
Big warts on his face.
What year was this? As I recall, 1644.
You must eat.
I must do nothing but die.
I'm overdue for that, my little scorpion.
Have you thought about what I said? Staying here? Yes.
And are you set for London to help your friend? I don't know.
But I'll wait.
Until I'm dead.
Yes.
Truly, I don't know if your heart is good or bad.
But I have to show you something.
See that big book? With the glyph on the side.
Bring it me.
Of all the texts, of all the spells this is the most cursed.
What is it? Forbidden.
The Poetry of Death.
If ever the day comes when my little scorpion is crushed and beaten if her God deserts her completely, only then does she open it.
And on that day, she will never be the same.
She will have gone away from God forever.
Poor animal.
They become trapped in the mire, can't get out.
They struggle.
And the more they struggle, the faster they sink.
One wrong step is all it takes.
For us all.
For us all.
Then may the Lord God bring us safe footing until we're home.
Better still May he let us know when we are home.
Now, put this cursed thing back and bring me my box.
And God tells us our duty in Leviticus.
A man or a woman who is a medium or a necromancer shall surely be put to death.
- Aye.
- Right.
- They shall be stoned with stones.
- Aye.
- Their blood shall be upon them.
- Aye.
Will I picture you a future, lads? That woman, unchecked, leads to my ruination.
I'll have no choice but to close the manor and find me better grazing land eastward.
What'll happen to you, then, Jack? - We sell off.
- And who's to buy? Who's to buy any of it, Jack? Spencer? Hugh Martin? Gil Taylor? Tell me, who'll buy your land, this dead land where nothing will graze? You'll be properly like the bloody Irish, then.
Digging out spuds with your fingernails.
Starving day by day while your little ones die afore you.
No.
Fill their tankards now.
So we ask you this, the minister and me.
What do we do when there's a battle needs fighting? - When our homeland is invaded? - We fight.
We fight, like the good Devon men and ladies we are.
- Aye.
- Yes.
We fought the Norse and the Romans and the Roundheads, didn't we? - Yes.
- Yeah.
There will be something for you in here after I'm gone.
You understand? - We take up the pikes - Aye.
- And the shovels and the cleavers, as we did before like we learned from our fathers, and we fight for what is ours.
- Drink up, lads.
- Yeah.
Now go.
Burn the witch.
- Burn the witch.
Burn the witch.
- Fight.
- Burn.
- Burn the witch.
- Burn the witch.
- Burn the witch.
Burn the witch.
Burn the witch.
Burn her.
When do you go? After.
I won't pretend I'm not sorry.
- I can come back.
- You won't.
You're a selfish girl.
Too many books you have in your head.
You think you're going to be a hero? You are not.
None of us are.
I think I'm nothing but a woman who must do something.
So, you can sleep at night? Fuck your sleep, you selfish bitch.
May you never pass a happy night.
- Oh, my God.
- Help me up.
- No, we must - I will meet them on my feet.
Stay inside when I go.
Lock the door.
No.
I will walk with you.
Now, you watch yourself close, my little scorpion.
And remember this I speak now, eh? When Lucifer fell, he did not fall alone.
They will hunt you until the end of days.
Be true.
My name is Joan Clayton.
We have resolved you to be guilty of necromancy and being in league with your master, the devil.
As it was before in God's own time, let it be so now.
No.
- Burn.
- No.
- No.
- We've got the witch.
We've got her.
- No.
No.
- Burn the witch.
No! Burn.
Burn.
- Burn.
- No.
Burn the witch.
Go on, child.
Scream for me.
When Lucifer fell, he did not fall alone.
They will hunt you until the end of days.
Be true.