Previously on "Salem"...
John, where is our son?
You made the wise decision,
dearest daughter.
I saw my son die.
That... that can't be my son.
I give you back your freedom.
Use it to go as far from Salem as you're able.
You use this finger well.
My sleep produced only a monster.
I need your blood more than you do.
No!
Get behind me, child.
Do no more of your foul magic here!
Who says so?
This is my watch now.
You are a witch.
I had no choice.
And not now.
Mary Sibley is finished.
Take her out to the woods and kill her.
If the boy finds out we killed his mother,
he will destroy us.
He will not know.
And bring me her blood.
Now mother will think it is done,
but you still have just enough left if you are careful.
You are free, my love.
John.
How dare you try to kill my bride.
Help me.
Someday perhaps, mother,
but not today.
I love you.
Please, don't go.
History will say the Devil was born in Salem.
What is the Devil?
The Devil is the light that reveals the path
through the dark woods of desire.
After all, getting what we want
is what the craft of the witch is.
Witchcraft is wish craft,
for our wishes are his wishes,
and our worlds shall be his world.
Oh, brothers and sisters gathered here
from every dark place of the earth.
We have so long been orphans of the great gone gods,
but no longer.
Our father has come home.
Their God is dead or lost in senile slumber,
but not ours.
Our god, their Devil, is alive,
awake, and now, finally...
he's here.
Why do you not kneel, good mother?
What tribe of witches is so exalted
that they will not bend the knee before me?
The Essex witches, my Lord.
It is we Essex
who brought you forth to walk the earth again.
'Twas my mother, Mary...
of blessed memory.
Yes, Mary Sibley...
the most powerful witch we Essex ever produced.
Indeed.
What reward is it you crave for such service?
Only that you be true to your word.
We performed the grand rite and the consecration
so that witches might finally have a land of their own.
Do you see?
This land is not your land.
This land is my land.
No! No, no, no!
My Lord, no!
Remember, dear ones,
to the reaper... all flesh is grass.
Even witch flesh.
A great terror will soon fall upon Salem,
and there is not a soul alive
upon this dull earth who can stop me.
- sync and corrections by Caio - - www.addic7ed.com -
Help me.
Somebody help me.
Stop trying to see.
Blindness is the beginning.
- Aah! - Come to my voice.
Dead I may be, yet I live on.
My eyes are inside you.
Petrus?
I am here in my hut.
Come.
My place is now your place.
Ohh!
You're no more witch than I was.
We are the cunning ones.
When you ate my eyes, you swallowed my vision...
my very essence as a Seer.
Now bear the the responsibility I bore.
See what I see...
what you and the Essex witches have done
by bringing back the Devil himself
and handing this earth over to him.
This is your future under the Dark Lord.
Yet the future is not a single thread,
but a shifting tapestry of infinite threads.
And there's only one way to change the future...
you and Mary Sibley gave the Devil the earth.
Now you and Mary Sibley have got to take it back.
The enemy are at our borders, murdering.
Here, sir. Please.
Ah.
Baron Marburg!
Baron Marburg... the very man I seek.
They say the gates of Salem
are coming down beneath a throng.
Indeed.
And how may I help?
Come. See.
Any word yet on the Countess?
She is, no doubt, still somewhere mid-ocean.
Duty called.
Refugees seem to be coming in from all over.
Homes are being burned!
He doesn't understand.
Our homes are being burned.
Indians, French devils... they murder us.
For the love of God, let us in.
Yeah, let us in!
Sergeant!
That will be your only warning.
They built a wall around Eden, too,
and it done no good.
Serpent was already inside.
So true.
What do you mean by that?
Just worrying about your reputation, sir.
My reputation?
Yes. I know what a true man of the people you are.
Indeed.
Seems to me,
a man of the people is only as big as the people.
So the more people you got on this side of the fence,
the more man you'll be.
Your fathers named this Salem
the new Jerusalem...
the very city of peace.
Open the way.
Open the way!
Let these refugees in.
Let them in.
Oh! Ohh!
Hold weapons!
Surround him!
They retreated into the woods!
Hurry and we'll catch them!
This way.
And be ambushed by your allies?
I know who you are, John Alden.
Traitor, Indian lover,
and there's still a price on your head.
Arrest him now.
- Seize him! - Go.
Cotton?
Cotton.
- Where are you? - Aah!
Cotton?
Cotton. Where are you, Cotton?
Come out, my love.
Aah! Oh!
Have no fear.
- It's just you and me... - No. No.
and baby makes three.
Open up, dearest.
Open up for me.
Aah!
Good boy.
Do you hate me so?
Hate you?
I would...
I have...
given up kingdoms for you.
My love for you rules all that I do.
If this is your love, I hope never to see your hate.
Do not give up, Cotton.
Do not give up on me.
I don't even know who you are anymore.
I am your Anne, always!
The woman you loved.
I swear I haven't changed.
I've only become more capable.
Give me time. You will see.
I can do so much.
Can you?
Then do just one thing for me.
Name it.
Kill me.
Indeed.
Absolutely right.
Kill him now, sister, or let me.
Far kinder to him, far safer for us.
You leave him be.
All of Salem questions
the whereabouts of Reverend Mather.
It's time his body was found in the forest
or washed up in the harbor.
His every breath is an intolerable risk to us...
not to mention smelling awfully of rat.
Not to me.
I love him. He is my husband.
Oh, don't let that stop you, dear brother-in-law.
Voilà. Listen to him.
Stand aside.
He doesn't understand... not yet.
And neither do you.
Who have you ever loved but our mother,
and you stood by and saw her slaughtered.
I have loved and lost more than you shall ever know.
But we may compare our sufferings another time.
Right now, our lord awaits,
and we both know what he does to those who disappoint him.
I understand your fears.
Our Salem chokes on refugees
as war has heated up out of nowhere these past few weeks.
But steps are being taken, I assure you.
Only today, we have captured the notorious outlaw
John Alden.
Come... see him hanged.
Oh, sure. Hang me.
You'll all be scalped
and strung up by your own innards
within a week.
What do you mean by that?
I've lived in those woods.
I've seen quite a bit.
The Indians and the French
are attacking towns and forcing refugees our way.
You have no idea what you're up against.
Just know that the noose ain't around my neck.
It's around Salem's.
Sounds like they'd be ready to see you hanging here as me.
Lord magistrate!
Our militia...
Your militia
has been decimated by the plague.
If you think this bunch of ill-trained geezers
and boys will protect you from the French and the Indians,
then you are bound to be disappointed.
How is hanging John Alden gonna protect us?
Who says he's part of it anyway?
- John! - Free John Alden!
- Release John Alden! - Let him go!
Hold!
Give him his freedom!
He can protect us!
Lead the militia,
and I'll clear your name.
Save John Alden!
The smell of fear.
Where I am...
war follows.
Your father,
against all odds, still lives.
My father's nothing now.
He can do nothing to thwart what is coming.
The terror outside drives refugees into Salem,
where, soon, they all, including my dear father,
will be but the burning candles that ignite my inauguration.
But, my Lord,
how does it serve you to destroy those you would rule?
Surely we want a new world, not a dead one.
All good gardeners know
some must die that others may grow.
- But... - Patience, dear girl.
In good time, all shall be revealed.
In the meantime, you two must play your parts.
Appearances must be maintained.
I understand completely.
My Lord is the surviving nephew of the late George Sibley,
heir to his throne
and the richest boy in Salem.
I am your legal guardian,
but I think you may find
my sister seems uncertain as to her role here,
and she harbors a great danger to you, Lord...
Cotton Mather.
Cotton Mather... a formidable soul.
What shall we do with him?
And with you?
When I handed you...
or the boy you would enter... to my mother,
the Countess promised me...
That overreaching thing,
and all her promises lie, even now,
rotting in her sarcophagus.
Would you like to join her?
You two...
brother and sister...
stand at the threshold of a new age.
So take my advice...
love each other or die.
Forgive me, sister.
I, as much as anyone,
put you in this grave,
and now I must drag you from it.
What's become of Mary?
Bet she's halfway to London by now.
She's smart, that Mary. She's always...
Isaac.
She's dead.
Dead?
Yeah.
Mary Sibley?
I nearly lay down in that grave beside her,
but I knew that's not what she wanted.
For now, we go on...
for her.
Imagine what she'd say if she saw us two...
working for Salem.
I don't know if she'd rather we kept it safe
or burned it to the ground.
I think we're being followed.
Is she yours, Isaac?
Of course not.
Never had no wife, as you well know, John Alden.
I saved her from that ogress, Mercy Lewis.
Now I can't shake her.
It's like I gave a puppy a bone.
Shoo!
This is where you work?
Yep.
Knockers Hole.
My beat.
What do you think you could do for them?
What no one's ever done for me...
look after them, help them.
Listen to me.
When I first came back to Salem,
you were the one that told me witches were real
and nobody was to be trusted.
Oh, I remember.
Well, it's more true now than ever.
Witches pull the strings.
There's plenty who pray to God
but serve the Devil,
and there's damn few of us that know the truth.
You, me, and Cotton.
When was the last time you saw him, anyway?
Been some time.
He hasn't spoken at Meeting.
Some say he's gone to Boston.
Some say he ain't left his marriage bed.
Good Sir Isaac the Idiot.
What comfort you must bring to the weak.
Alice, I'm glad you came.
Get your strength back.
Mercy, Alice is here.
No work for you tonight.
Now, who do we have here?
A little lost bird for my little nest?
Oh.
Come.
There, there, now.
You're safe here.
But you must tell me everything so I can help.
My parents died of the plague.
My Uncle took me to Knockers Hole
and... found men for me.
Only he drinks all the money...
and I'm afraid.
Shh.
I was a lost bird, myself, once upon a time,
and there was no nest to hide me, so I built one.
And now there will always be a place
for lost doves like you in my house.
As long as you allow me my fair share.
You can have the money.
I just want to be safe and fed and warm.
Come.
It isn't your earnings I want a share of.
But let's talk about that later.
You will never have to deal with your uncle again.
I promise.
Where is he now?
Still snoring in his drunken sleep.
Are you familiar with Cat's Cradle?
I used to play Cat's Cradle when I was a girl.
Let's play.
One...
Two...
three...
Tighter.
Five.
That's it.
Six.
Seven.
Eight.
Through a window.
How dare you bring that traitor into our midst.
There is no place in the Essex stronghold
for even the corpse of Mary Sibley.
How dare you.
She didn't bring this on us. You did.
We drew her deeper with every step,
and now you would blame her?
But the father of lies betrayed us all.
I have seen it.
Seen the future that we have built
in our thirst for revenge.
We have brought him back only to murder our own world
and ourselves with it...
unless we can stop him.
But it is impossible.
Not all of us together
have any hope of stopping him.
No.
She, alone, does.
You know better than any of us
how dangerous it is to breech the wall of silence.
Raise the dead
and you never know what you raise.
We all know what we have done,
and we all know that this...
this is our only chance.
Go get some more wood.
We can find happiness, Cotton,
if only you would stop fighting and give me a chance.
I will not be used like this.
Do you hear me?
If I cannot be a free man,
I will make you kill me.
Enough!
Enough.
Do you think I want to do this?
You have no idea...
no idea at all what is coming.
Even I know only a fraction,
but I am deeply afraid of what he may do.
I cannot fight you, too.
Anne!
John. Jo...
Anne Hale!
Where's Mather?
Boston... a family matter.
Open it.
I will call the Magistrate and have you arrested.
And what can the army do to me
that you can't, witch?
If you know so much, why don't you tell everyone?
Well, it took me a while, but I figured it out.
The Puritans are all puppets.
Even the ones who don't know it.
How did he take it,
when you admitted you were a witch?
I think you hate what you've become.
You're in too deep, and you don't know what to do.
- I've no choice... - Choice?
Bullshit.
Choice is all any of us have,
and you chose to send that boy,
my boy...
over to the Countess,
who made him into whatever the hell he is now.
Did I choose to slaughter innocents?
Choose to start a plague?
Raise the Devil himself?
No.
Mary Sibley chose to do those things.
Me? I had no choice.
Didn't even realize I was born a witch,
but Mary Sibley chose to become a witch.
Why?
Because you chose to leave Salem
and left her no other course.
So perhaps this is all your fault.
Everything I've done, I've done for love...
even giving up the boy.
I did it to save Cotton.
They were going to kill him!
Like you're killing me?
Get out before I change my mind.
I know you don't care,
but seeing John Alden alive and walking in our Salem
is like a dagger.
I can't look at that man without thinking of Mary.
In grief begins wisdom.
I should know.
I lived on nothing but grief for thousands of starless nights
in the darkness.
But you must not lose yourself in grief,
rather, find yourself.
What is this rancid wine?
It's no wine I sip.
It's my mother's blood.
I draw a small cup nightly
from the sack of blood you yourself drew from her.
Makes me feel closer to her.
Try it again.
Open your mouth and your heart,
and you'll feel her as I do.
Now you feel her, don't you?
Her flesh may be dead, but her spirit,
whether on this earth or beneath it, still exists.
But remember, she belongs to me.
You shall never know her lips again.
Oh, mother,
wise, wise mother.
Answer me this...
how can such things be?
Mary is gone, but John Alden still lives.
She's the only thing I ever wanted.
I even stood by and watched you die
in hopes of seeing her again.
Now she's gone, and I have nothing.
Nothing.
From cloud to sea,
from crown to throne.
From blood to bough,
from skin to bone.
Tree of life in which we art,
roots that feed from earth's deep heart.
Rising branches charged from sky,
come now, make her death a lie.
From cloud to sea,
from crown to throne.
From blood to bough, from skin to bone.
Tree of life in which we art,
roots that feed from earth's deep heart.
Rising branches charged from sky,
come now, make her death a lie.
What happened here?
Does anybody know this man's name?
You were right about one thing, my husband.
We cannot go on this way.
Neither backward nor forward.
You once told me that...
that love could not be known by reason,
that it required only a faith.
Well, I will take that leap, and I will trust you.
And you must try and trust me, too.
Can you?
Yes.
I can try.
I hope this is a new beginning for us.
We deserve it.
Yes, we do.
My dear Anne...
thank you.
Are you...
coming to bed?
Shortly.
I must first enjoy the feeling
of free movement for a moment.
And, um, if you don't mind,
say a few prayers of thanks
to whatever god opened up your heart.
Finally, brother, you are here.
Nostoah nanaeel olani noasmi...
Stop.
I haven't heard the old tongue in eons.
I can't say that I like it.
Too many memories.
But I quite like this one...
- English. - English.
English.
That's what it is.
Better call it "anguish."
Sounds like the whimper of whipped dogs.
I see your long entombment has not improved your mood.
For once, old friend, rejoice.
It has begun.
Once, we raised an army of brothers
and stormed the very citadel of Heaven.
We all know how that ended...
in the bowels of newly formed Hell,
so I've seen new beginnings before.
Forgive me if I hold my tongue, this time,
for a successful end.
Leave the bottle.
Come back inside, and it will stop.
What are you doing to me?
Not I, but Brown Jenkins.
Your familiar.
Faithful to me and me alone.
Far, far more trustworthy than you.
I gave you a simple test, and you failed.
I left you free to move and speak.
If you move or speak against me,
Brown Jenkins feasts on your insides.
You have me in a prison.
No, dear Cotton,
I have a prison inside you.
Now come to bed.
I have no intention of causing a scene here.
I'd merely have words with you, Captain.
We've got nothing to talk about.
Mary Sibley.
Where is she?
I buried her...
but you killed her.
Just like I'm going to kill you now.
- sync and corrections by Caio - - www.addic7ed.com -