Previously on "Salem"...
From first wife of Salem
to painted whore!
I hereby strip you of all your ill-gotten gains.
Hypocrite! You're all fornicators.
Screwing each other every day of the week,
This is vile blasphemy,
and you will hang for it.
The Countess Marburg has put up a bond of surety.
You were to be the offering
the last time the comet appeared.
If my role requires that I destroy my son,
then I choose not to.
Our battle is not with your son
but what is within him.
No. I'm your father.
Can't you hear me?
A witch dagger to kill,
and a medicine bag to be unseen.
Then run and hide, father. She is coming for me.
Give the boy to me. I will take and hide him.
There's something inside of me.
He is not far.
I will remember your eyes
at the moment this entered you.
A fair woman bled dry
is the most aesthetically pleasing sight of all.
But I... I get no pleasure from watching a man bleed out.
A coup de grāce for Captain Alden.
- synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -
No.
John?
My son?
Have no fear. He is safe.
Let's worry about you now.
Oh, well done, little owl.
You have him.
It's clear.
Come. We must hurry.
- That's my house. - I know. I know.
We must get you inside.
I thought you were taking me to my mother.
I will... when the time is right.
Ha.
They say crocodiles weep
while they devour their prey.
But not even crocodiles eat their own young.
Mercy.
I wondered when you'd come.
Believe it or not,
I am glad you survived.
Don't play the good mother with me.
Good mothers don't burn their children.
I finally met a true mother.
She healed the wounds you and so many others dealt me.
And asked for nothing in return?
No more than a loyal daughter would give.
The stories the workhouse orphans are telling
are true, aren't they?
It is you who've been luring the children away.
- For her. - Not just for her.
I thought you were
the protector of the weak and the dispossessed.
Well, I learned from you.
Care of the self comes first.
And I needed them.
I was burned.
Every inch of my body
was blackened and blistered by you.
Maybe so.
Oh, it seems all my sins have returned to me...
As you have.
But, Mercy, do not let your hatred for me blind you.
Marburg detests all of the Essex witches.
She will betray you in the end.
Oh, you're just jealous.
Child, what could you possibly possess
that would ever make me jealous?
The heart of a prince.
I intend to marry Sebastian Marburg.
The first time I saw him, I knew he was meant for me.
And the Marburgs are royalty.
I'll be a princess,
even a real queen someday.
Be careful what you wish for.
I can tell you how happy queens are.
False queens.
That's all you ever were.
How does it feel...
To lose everything you've ever had?
You'll find out soon enough.
You'll be safe here.
No one can find you here.
Is this your room?
Once upon a time, it was,
when I was very small.
But I don't remember, really.
So many toys.
I wouldn't forget them if they were mine.
I'm sure you had as many when you were that small.
They didn't let me have toys.
"They"?
The Widdershins.
Widdershins?
The old ones in the tree where we hid.
But surely, your mother gave...
My mother wasn't allowed there.
- Oh. - And now she's gone again.
I'm sure we'll see her soon.
Why not now?
Well...
Do you like animals? I have a friend.
His name is... Mr. Jenkins.
I want my mother.
Please. Stop.
I want my mother. I want my mother.
- I want my mother! - Stop it!
No.
Mm.
Sh... aah!
Get out!
Wasn't that a nice way to wake up?
Yes, if I liked waking up to a dog
nuzzling my bollocks.
Well, then, tell me what would please you.
I'll do anything you want.
How about you leave me well and far alone?
You're no use to us anymore.
That isn't true.
No, it isn't true.
You were never any use to us.
You're being cruel.
I thought you wanted me.
Wanted you?
No one has ever wanted you.
Not your own father, nor the Essex hive,
and certainly not I.
Mary Sibley is the one I desire, and I shall have no other.
But...
Aah!
You're hurting me.
No.
Now I'm hurting you.
I'll tell your mother.
No need.
I'll tell her.
She used to like watching me play.
The countess told me I was like a daughter to her.
The queen of queens has a real daughter
and no need for a pale, feral imitation of one
fished out from Salem's gutters.
Now, if...
if my mother wants you, she'll fetch you.
So stay where you belong...
on the ship with the rest of the servants.
This may hurt.
All the other guys looked worse.
That is the best I can manage.
I'm afraid I'm no doctor.
Just as well.
Never knew a sawbones didn't double as an undertaker.
- Ohh. - Slowly.
Easy, now.
Any violent movement,
you'll split apart like a badly sewn doll.
But it won't be sawdust you'll be leaking, my friend.
Where did you take the boy?
He's with Anne.
- Anne Hale? - Yes.
The most wonderful thing... she found us in the woods.
She's such a brave girl.
- She's... - A witch.
What?
Anne Hale is a witch.
That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard.
No, that... that's impossible.
And she isn't Anne Hale anymore.
She's Anne Mather.
She's my wife.
Then you married a witch.
Why are you saying this utter nonsense?!
You don't know this girl as I know her,
as I love her.
And I saw Anne practicing witchcraft with my own eyes.
Forgive me if I'm reluctant
to condemn my wife based on the evidence of a man
who has been walking around delirious
since he returned to Salem.
I must speak to my wife.
- See with my own eyes. - No. Don't.
Salem's controlled by witches,
including the woman that you married.
If they find out that you know,
they'll kill you.
She is my wife.
I made a vow before God
to love her, to protect her, and forsake all others.
I don't have any choice. I have to go back.
I must at least give her a chance
to respond to this...
Ridiculous accusation.
You're a good man, Harvard.
Always have been.
Better than you know.
Could you do me a favor?
Be careful.
You, too, John.
Cotton...
I'll see you on the other side.
You have the boy.
I smelled it in the woods. I sense him here.
I can't let you take him.
I have no intention
of taking him from you.
Then why are you here?
The comet has nearly passed.
We have little time.
Tonight, you'll deliver him to me
- for the consecration. - Never.
entrusted the child with me.
is my husband now, and I will not betray him.
With every breath we take,
we betray someone's trust.
That is life.
It's one grand betrayal after another.
It's a most delectable game for those who know how to play.
I never learned any games.
Something I found in common with my young guest.
That's not the only thing
you have in common with the little boy.
You are both destined for greatness,
bound for glory.
And neither of you belong with those feral Essex witches.
I told you when first we met
you are no mere Essex witch, any more than your father was.
My father...
Was a particular favorite of mine.
I sent him away in a dark moment
across the sea to find a safe place.
You see, I charged him with the greatest of tasks...
the greatest of privileges...
to father and protect
what's most precious to me in all the world...
my daughter.
I already killed one mother.
Who's to say I won't kill another one?
You knew?
My father hinted as much in his book of shadows.
But it changes nothing.
You, of all mothers...
... have no claim on my affection.
'Tis not your affections I claim,
but the boy.
The boy is not mine to dispose of.
Correct. He is mine.
I would think he belongs to his true mother...
Mary Sibley.
You would trust her?
I would show you what kind of a mother,
what kind of a woman you would give him to.
Come.
Behold, the symbol of Mary Sibley's kindness...
the reward for serving her faithfully.
Tituba?
And you would prefer Mary Sibley
to your own mother?
How did I not see?
You are as much serpent as she.
And what of it?
The first and best of women, our mother Eve,
followed the serpent.
And ever since,
small-minded men have tormented us.
Did you never ask yourself
what kind of a God plants a tree
bearing the fruit of true knowledge,
only to forbid his creation to partake?
When I look around this dismal chamber,
I see three powerful women who all serve the same cause,
whether they know it or not.
Tituba, you want to live, don't you?
Then let us taste what you are made of.
Mystery...
And misery...
And lies.
You poor, deluded thing.
Mary Sibley has no sympathy for your suffering.
She has had her own heartbreak to bear.
An unfaithful lover,
an unwanted child.
Why, these are trivialities
compared to being orphaned, enslaved,
sent across the ocean,
and passed from hand to sweaty hand.
Now, all these years,
it's you who has done all the real work.
And Mary Sibley has reaped the rewards.
But why has Mary done this to you?
What are you being punished for?
She blames me for all her misery.
But are you telling the truth?
Lies drip from your lips like honey.
I can taste the lies
that you told Mary, the Essex, John Alden.
You may very well survive all of this,
if you can be as loyal to me as you have been to him.
What can a slave like me
possibly do for the mighty Marburgs?
Well, let us speak
of the secret Essex stronghold.
There was no place for a man like Isaac
in George Sibley's Salem,
no place for a teller of uncomfortable truths.
If I was telling the truth,
why am I in the stocks?
That is the price of telling the truth.
If it were free,
every Tom, Dick, or Harry would be a truth-teller.
To tell your truth, you violated the sabbath,
you disrespected your elders and betters.
You had to be punished.
But I am not George Sibley.
And I recognize a young man with potential.
And I know how to reward it.
You were right to decry
the corruption of George Sibley's rule.
This is a new day for Salem.
Henceforth, you will no longer be known
as Isaac the fornicator,
but as Isaac the truth-teller.
Can this be so?
They're a good size. Use them well.
Aye.
What's this for?
A fresh start.
I know in your eyes,
I am indistinguishable from all the other hypocrites
who have ruled Salem,
but I am... different.
And I truly do want a different Salem.
Tell me, what do you want?
I want justice.
Justice for Dollie.
Excellent.
The world can always use more justice.
You must be hungry. Take this.
Thank you.
Ahh.
Mary Sibley is finished,
and rightfully so.
But you... you are the blessed star of lamentation,
more precious to me than anything.
If I was so precious to you...
... why didn't you keep me?
The times were perilous then.
We were hunted from city to city,
burned at the stake in droves.
So, you hid me from everything,
including from myself.
The more precious something is,
the better hidden it must be.
And, yes, sometimes, even from itself.
Your father and I shared one goal...
to keep you safe until the time came.
The time?
Of your inheritance.
You still do not grasp
all that awaits you as my true heir.
How can I be your heir if you have a son?
It is men who inherit everything.
Men?
Men, even sorcerous ones, are not fit for true leadership.
True leadership is the power to deal both life and death,
whereas men can only ever wield half that power...
the easy part.
Now, among the wise,
real authority descends through women,
and it is you who will inherit my mantle
and all that comes with it.
You despise the chaos that Mary Sibley has wrought.
You long for justice, fairness, a better world.
As my heir, you can remake the world
in any image you choose,
as long as you accept your role and your power.
Mary Sibley would say she attempted just that...
to wield her magic for justice.
She is not one of us.
She is a mere upstart pretender...
the front woman for a gaggle of twig-worshipping barbarians.
You are descended from true kings and queens.
I've never longed for power, only love.
You actually love him.
The queen of true witches in love with a Mather?
Very well.
You may keep your pet Mather.
He will prove a fine puritan beard,
perhaps even useful.
But understand this...
there are mere hours
before the comet is gone and our time passed.
I really must have the boy.
Or else what?
You would kill, torture me,
your precious daughter?
Of course not.
But I will kill Cotton Mather...
So slowly and painfully
that he will curse the day he was born.
And it will all be your fault.
He will die knowing that his blood is on your hands.
So, you see, it's simple.
His life... for the boy's.
Anne?
Let me out!
Who's there?
Please! Let me out!
I will not stand by and let it all just happen.
I will do anything to stop it,
even violate my Essex oath.
Hear me, old ones.
I swear I will not let you ignore me.
I will cross the forbidden threshold.
I am coming to see you.
Fail me...
And we are all doomed.
I want to go home!
Little John?
Please! I want my mother!
Where are you?
I don't know.
I want my mother.
I'm here to take you to her.
Come now. She will be there. I promise.
- I'm scared. - I know.
So am I.
The Essex tree is deep and wide,
but unseen as any breath.
I'll pay the price to come inside,
though it may mean my very death.
Hear me.
I am still the samhain of the Essex,
and I've made my vow clear.
Kill me if you can, but I will come inside.
_
I am no longer Mary Sibley. I'm just Mary.
But I am still the samhain of the Essex
until one of you foul wretches takes my head.
Oh, go on, if any of you dare.
_
And yet, for a brief moment, I have.
_
Too risky?
This is our only hope.
_
No! No, if you would...
if you would only emerge and rally behind me,
then we could defeat Marburg
or... or... or die honorably trying.
_
Do not believe Tituba's promises.
Whatever she says, the countess will not spare you.
_
You would abandon me
after all I have done,
all I have sacrificed while we are at war?
_
John.
Don't go to sleep, John.
I'm so tired.
If you sleep, you'll never wake up.
You must stay in this world a little longer.
But to what end?
All is lost, Mary.
You...
Me...
... him.
Where is he?
John, where is our son?
It's, uh...
Witch.
Cotton gave him to a witch.
Who?
John, who did Cotton give our son to?
Anne Hale.
Then all is not lost.
I will try to get to her before they can stop me.
But, John, listen to me.
I may fail.
And if all fails,
they will take our son to the crags.
There you will have one moment...
before he is lost forever.
I can't kill them all.
Not with a single shot.
And that German bitch... yes, if I could hit her.
No, she cannot be killed. She...
Welcome back from your little sojourn.
It is time.
Is it?
I think you've failed.
If you had my son,
you would be parading him before me as we speak.
I do not need to hold him in my hand
to have him in my grasp.
He will be there waiting at the appointed place and time.
Now, you must learn your part.
Repeat after me.
"By my love, you were made."
Now in love to return.
By my love, offered up.
"In love's fire, ever burn."
You would have me speak words of love
while you destroy him?
A sacrifice without love is mere slaughter.
Now, learn the words.
I will not doom my son.
Say the words, please.
I do not want to hurt you,
- but I will if I must. - Go ahead.
You can drag me there, but you cannot make me speak.
I know what is required.
I must say the words willingly, in my own voice.
That, I will never do.
Do what you will.
Say the words, and he ascends to glory,
or doom him with your silence.
The comet passes directly overhead.
In moments, it will be too late.
And you still do not have my son.
No.
But she does.
No!
How could you?
You made the wise decision,
dearest daughter.
Come.
Bless the knife that splits one into two.
Mother!
Bless the cup that makes many into one.
Now midnight come. Let the reign of darkness begin.
By the eye of the serpent,
which blazes overhead,
the eye which flies in the sky but once a turning,
see we are worthy, see we are ready,
and have prepared the pure vessel for you.
Mother!
Mother, please! Help me!
This is the place of desolation,
the dreaming sanctuary of the deathless flame.
And from this open gate of hell
comes the walking horizon of the other God-given flesh.
Now say the words
and see your son fulfill the destiny
for which he was born.
No.
Mother!
John.
You were not born for this.
You were born to be loved.
And I do love you.
I am so sorry, my love.
I have failed you over and over again,
but I will not fail you now.
Whatever happens, do not be afraid.
We will meet again.
I love you beyond all measure,
beyond any other love, beyond life itself.
That will do.
All the ritual requires
is an avowal of complete and total love
at the moment of sacrifice.
No.
Well done.
No! No!
No!
Mother! Help me!
No!
Open the womb of darkness,
not in fear...
... But in love.
No!
Open the gate of creation,
the path between world and time.
Let the fire of Lucifer and Hecate's love
burn the flesh...
... of this child of serpent and man.
Let the flesh receive the new word.
Father!
Join us.
Join us, father, or die!
Your cowardly lie nearly cost me everything!
Oh. My lord.
My lord. Ohh.
Oh, my lord.
- synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -