Original subtitles

SERLING: Tonight's stars:

John Saxon,

Lois Nettleton,

Joel Grey,

Royal Dano,

and Howard Duff.

Good evening.

If you seem to sense an aura of cold dampness that permeates this room,

attributed not to either defective air-conditioning,

or inclement indoor weather,

it's simply because this is rather a special place,

with a special statuary and special paintings.

And they carry with them a coldness that seems to go best in a crypt.

Or in a place like this, called the Night Gallery.

Our opening kickoff is deep into the end zone of the moors,

where hounds bay and witches fly brooms,

and the belief in the supernatural is as natural as breathing.

Or not breathing.

We call this item, I'll Never Leave You, Ever.

Moragh. Little Moragh. Come inside, it's getting cold out there.

Well, our hour is almost gone.

If you'd rather stay out there and catch your death, it's all right with me.

No, not I.

But for a moment, just for a moment.

What?

A lightning bolt.

It hovered,

like a falcon, above the croft.

I could feel the prayer rising in my throat.

And then it fell to Earth somewhere beyond the ridge,

and in the thunder I could hear the devil's laughter,

as if, all along,

he'd only just been teasing me.

It's just cold you are.

Your cheeks are like ice.

Then warm me.

Then warm me, Ianto.

Bring summer to my bones!

Moragh?

I'm here, Ianto.

Won't he wonder where you are?

I don't care.

I hate him!

His love is like a prison.

Since his illness he's grown worse.

I feel his eyes on me every moment, waking or sleeping.

Oh, Ianto, why does he

cling to life so?

Why doesn't he die?

Hush, little Moragh.

The Collector will come in his own good time.

Not even Owen can last forever.

But, after life's done with him, what then?

Oh, Ianto.

I'll give everything to you.

The land is rich,

and come spring

we'll have more than 50 sheep.

I shall need your help then.

Will you come?

Tell me. Tell me you'll come. Say it. Say you'll come.

I'll come.

Ianto, I love you so.

When shall I see you again?

When I see a lamp burning in the window, I will come.

Now.

Now.

Now you must go.

Till then.

Till then... Till then, my love.

Moragh...

Where have you been? I've missed you.

The storm had blown the door off the hen roost.

I had to make safe for fear of losing the little ones.

Dear Moragh.

Your hair is tangled.

Bring the brush and sit by me.

There's little enough I can still do,

but I can do this.

'Tis all that remains to me

in the way of pleasure.

That's enough for tonight, Moragh.

I'm tired, but it looks well enough.

I love you so, Moragh.

It grieves me that I cannot give you more.

But I shall be well, you'll see.

You've got to have faith in me, Moragh,

for how could I leave you?

I could not leave you, ever.

Hush. I know.

Now you must sleep.

Moragh, kiss me.

Well?

Well?

I was admiring your work.

You are very well-known in these parts.

You want a doll?

Yes.

What do you offer

for my services?

Whatever you want.

You've but to name it.

Male or female?

Male. And your price, old woman?

Two spring lambs.

And if I do not receive them,

things will not go well for you.

You understand?

Yes, I understand.

You shall have two fine spring lambs,

this I promise.

Describe him to me.

Leave out nothing,

for the likeness

must be perfect.

Moragh, I am blind.

I can see nothing but blackness.

Moragh, I am afraid.

I am so afraid. Hold me.

Hold me.

You are dreaming, Owen.

Be still, be still.

I will fetch you some water.

Better now?

Aye, better.

There.

No, no.

Oh, dear God, die. Hurry.

Oh, dear God, why won't you die?

Why don't you...

The doll. Get rid of the doll. Get rid of it.

Now. Now. Get rid of it or go out of your mind.

'Tis no use turning your face from it, Moragh.

There is that which must be done, and only yourself to do it.

The worst is behind you now.

All that remains lies inside that room,

waiting to be wrapped for burial.

'Tis a necessary thing, as well you know, so be on with it, woman.

Moragh? Moragh?

Moragh, darling. Moragh.

Little Moragh.

Moragh.

Moragh, darling.

Oh, Ianto?

Is it really you?

Yes, my darling.

Oh, hold me, hold me. I'm so frightened.

I saw the croft blazing with light.

I thought something may be wrong, so I came as quickly as I could.

Oh, Ianto.

It was so dreadful.

Tell me, if you can. Is it Owen?

Has he died then?

Oh, help me, love.

Please, please help me.

I thought I could do it myself, but I didn't know it would be like this.

Dear God!

What have you done to him?

In Heaven's name, what have you done?

I couldn't help it. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't.

I didn't know, you see.

I thought it would be so easy.

I did it for you, Ianto. Don't turn away from me.

No, don't. But you killed him.

Please, Ianto, I love you, I would do anything for you.

But you killed him. Not with my hands, Ianto.

Don't you see? Not with my own hands.

How then?

It was the doll. It was the doll, you see.

I threw it into the fire, and it wouldn't burn.

The old woman used unseasoned wood and I did not know that it would not burn.

Witchcraft?

How could you do it?

He was dying, it was only a matter of time.

The doll has not burnt away then?

No.

Where is it now?

I threw it into the quarry.

Don't you see? It's all right.

Look, you don't understand.

It's not safe until it has burned away.

The doll still lives, down there in the darkness.

I must go and find it.

Ianto, no. No, Ianto, wait.

Ianto, don't leave me.

Ianto.

Ianto.

Ianto.

Moragh.

Ianto.

I'm here.

Oh, Ianto. Ianto, wait for me.

Oh, Ianto.

Moragh.

Moragh.

Moragh.

I'm here.

Here, Moragh.

I'm here.

I love you, Moragh.

How could I leave you, ever?

Our next painting tells the story of a young man

who's major in school is philosophy,

but whose extra-curricular labors take him into the area of black magic.

And for this you don't get a degree.

But the commencement ceremony is a gas.

See for yourself as we offer you

There Aren't Any more MacBanes.

And this is the trash you've wasted three years on,

struggling vainly to get your Master's Degree?

Living off me, instead of going out into the world

and trying to make an honest living?

Ta-da!

Presenting Bard College's two newest Bachelors of Arts!

And it's oldest.

Sorry, Andrew, we didn't know you had visitors.

Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet my wicked old uncle

whom I've told you so much about.

Welcome to the campus, Wicked Old Uncle. Mickey Standish.

Elie Green. We've heard a lot about you.

So I gather.

Uncle Arthur's been having this tremendous debate

over whether or not to cut me off without a cent.

This is a family matter, Andrew.

They're as much my family as you are.

Then perhaps they'll support you

for as long as it takes to earn your degree in witchcraft.

Mr. Porter, he's your only living relative.

You could almost faint at the thought, couldn't you?

Against my better judgment, I'll give you one more chance.

You've got six months, Andrew.

Six months to get yourself a decent, well-paying, respectable job.

You do that, and you'll inherit my entire fortune when I die.

Go on the way you have been,

and see what it's like saying abracadabra to put a hot meal on the table!

Ad nunque norum

quo valorum,

ipse quid nunc maldecorum!

Vide! Vide! Haed majorum!

Burn!

Burn!

Burn!

My only living relative can now be observed

as a pillar of fire on the second story landing.

You missed.

I'll get the old buzzard yet.

Jedediah MacBane, where are you now that I need you?

He being...

An ancient ancestor of mine that was burned for a witch

back in those unenlightened days

when they thought they could stamp out and

destroy sorcery by destroying the sorcerer.

Here.

This 17th-century sage

was probably the forerunner of our guided missiles!

He was able to kill at great distances

without stirring from his hearth.

He did in his worst enemy, his best friend,

and his best friend's wife in this interesting fashion,

and then something did him in.

What did him in?

That's the part that's missing!

Ten pages! How he did it,

what it was, and what became of him!

Oh, if I could only find those 10 pages,

I'd zap old Uncle Moneybags right in his counting house.

Andy? Don't get mad, but...

Wouldn't it be easier just to get a job?

That's all he wants you to do, just find employment!

Look, Andy. That job at the bookstore is still open.

Now that would satisfy him for sure...

Well, it wouldn't satisfy me! Selling graph paper to a chemistry major.

What're you going to do then?

Find the missing pages!

Come on, Elie. We only stopped in to say goodbye, anyway.

Wait! We never say goodbye. Never. Not the three of us.

A swallow to our next meeting!

Which'll be when?

Six months from now!

You are hereby invited to attend the obsequies

surrounding my formal disinheritance.

Triumvirs contra mundi!

MacBane contra mundi!

Andy!

We weren't sure you'd be here. The campus looks like a ghost town!

Haven't I always kept my promises?

You remember my wicked old uncle.

Forgive and pity him, gentlemen,

because the college switchboard was closed for the Christmas holidays,

he was unable to disinherit me by telephone.

He's been forced to drive 15 miles to do so in person.

He's cold and he's grumpy, and must be afforded every consideration.

Now, you wouldn't really do that, would you, Mr. Porter?

He's not working!

Ah, but I am!

Assiduously.

Where?

Here.

Who pays your salary?

Oh, you mean do I have a job? No.

Thank you.

The bank opens tomorrow morning at 10:00.

At 10:05

you will be written off for all time as any connection of mine.

Uncle?

Zap!

What was that?

What?

I thought I heard something.

That was the

winter wind, clamoring to get in here

where it's bright, and cheerful, and warm with love.

Gentlemen.

Andy, do you keep dogs now?

Dogs?

I thought I heard something scratching to get in.

What's in this sherry anyway?

And tell me when I start sounding like a crumb, okay?

Okay, I'll be glad to. All right.

We've looked up to Andy all through college, right?

The graduate student democratically condescending

to pal around with a couple of green undergrads.

Well, that made us feel really neat.

Only for some of us, college is over now.

You've got a job, I've got a job and what's Andy got?

He's got two friends with jobs, that's what,

and he isn't any closer to that MA than he was when we met him!

Well, the company's sending me to Chad.

They've got a redevelopment project going there

and the contract doesn't include per diem for any stray albatrosses

I might happen to have hanging around my neck.

You just started to sound like a crumb.

Listen, buddy, life marches.

You got to march along with it.

The dear old dead days might've been great, but, believe me,

there's nothing in this world deader than a dear old...

Holy...

It's him!

Lord.

Look at his throat!

Andy! Something happened to your uncle.

An accident. We'd better call the police.

An accident?

Andy, he's dead.

He was killed by something... Something wild.

Uncle, dead?

That means I'm rich.

Rich.

Air Accra flight 18 now ready for boarding.

Just made it.

All passengers holding pink boarding tickets kindly go to forward gate.

From the sun-baked sands of Chad.

Have you heard anything from Andy yet?

Yeah, he's living at MacBane Lodge.

What's that?

According to him it's a pest house in Salem, Massachusetts.

No water, no phone, no electricity.

What's he living there for?

He inherited enough money to buy himself a yacht!

Well, it's where Jedediah used to live.

You know, we never talked about it.

Do you buy the coroner's verdict?

Uncle Arthur was attacked by a wild animal, type unknown?

Do you have anything in mind you like better?

Did you ever see any wild animals in the woods around school?

And another thing...

Listen, I've got to catch my flight.

The night his uncle was killed,

he was burning something in the fireplace.

Sure. Logs.

And something else.

No.

Stop!

Please!

All right!

That's my door.

I got a telegram here for Elie Green. That your wife?

No, that's me. What's your name?

Francis. So what're you looking at?

See you, Francis.

Andy, do you keep dogs now? Dogs?

I thought I heard something scratching to get in.

Come on!

Hello? Mr. Standish? This is Elie Green,

I'm a friend of Mickey's, I'm sure you'd know me if you saw me.

Listen, I hope this isn't something silly, but I just got a...

What?

How?

A leopard? What?

Look at his throat,

I'm terribly sorry.

What's going on?

Andy?

You've guessed.

You found those 10 missing pages, didn't you?

And the night your uncle was killed, you burned them. Why?

I thought if I destroyed those pages I could destroy the spell it contained.

Destroy what it created.

I should've known better.

Now, it's...

Now it's here and I don't know how to get rid of it, how to stop it.

Get rid of what?

Andy, what is it? What were in those last 10 pages?

The inheritance of the MacBanes.

A devoted servant,

first summoned up by the ancient Jedediah,

and from then on, a devoted and jealous servant of any MacBane

who discovers the magic to bring it back from wherever it bides in between.

A servant,

loyal, unswerving, undaunted by time or distance

with only one talent.

All it can do is kill.

And once it has killed,

there's no way to stop it from killing.

I brought it back out of the centuries to kill Uncle Arthur,

and now I don't know how to send it away.

How to get rid of it.

How did Jedediah get rid of it?

He didn't.

It's been lurking out there in the blackness ever since.

Generations of MacBanes have lived and died

without ever knowing the power that was at their fingertips,

until me.

After me,

there aren't any more MacBanes to feed it victims.

Feed it victims? Andy, what are you talking about?

Yes, I found those pages,

and may I be damned forever for finding them!

They were excerpts

from Jedediah's diary.

On the first page was the spell.

I said the words, I made the gestures,

I burned the dried powders. It was easy.

So easy!

You know, Andy, I'd say you'd really flipped your wig, you know that?

I'd say you were around the bend and ready for a padded room,

if that hadn't happened to me in the cellar of my apartment house tonight...

But it did happen

because I called it up to kill Uncle Arthur.

That was before I read the rest of Jedediah's diary.

That's where he wrote,

"It will not let me love.

"Do I but glance gently at another,

"the object of my mild regard lives not to see the dawn.

"I have used an unworldly power to destroy an enemy.

"Now that power demands

"to kill all my friends as well.

"Already, it has taken the two dearest to me,

"and now clamors for a third.

"I have no idea how to end it.

"But am resolved it shall have no more of those I love.

"But I shall brave it, I shall refuse,

"let the consequences be what they may."

And there the journal ends.

For it must have come,

he must have refused

and the consequences...

Were what?

We shall soon find out.

What do you mean?

I mean when I read those words of Jedediah's,

I realized what I had called forth,

and I tried to send it back, but there was no spell

to vanquish it.

It killed my uncle, my enemy,

just as it had killed Jedediah's and then it came to demand

a friend as payment.

I tried to refuse, I tried to outwit it,

I tried to somehow break the spell,

but I couldn't.

I gave it Mickey.

Even then I tried to save him.

It was no use.

And then you gave it me?

But it didn't kill me!

At the last minute I called it back.

But it didn't work. I couldn't bear it.

It'll be coming now.

This is the time of night that it always comes scratching at the door

like a dog, the dog that you once thought you heard.

And then...

You know its strength. Do you think that flimsy door can hold it back?

Andy, what is it? What did Jedediah create? What did you summon back?

All the jealousy the Earth has ever known since the creation of man,

formed into the epitome of everything that is evil in that jealousy!

No!

Go back to the slime you inhabited before Jedediah meddled with your clay!

You won't have this one, or any other, either!

I summoned you forth, and I shall send you back! Go!

Burn! Burn!

Burn!

Mr. MacBane, are you all right, sir?

There aren't anymore MacBane's.