Penny Dreadful

Previously on Penny Dreadful...

There are tremors around us.

Hidden music.

Some might be more attuned to them than others.

What do those people do,

those who have been chosen?

Amunet and Amun-Ra.

If they ever came together, Amunet would become the mother of evil.

You are not Sir Malcolm.

Serpent.

Deceiver, Prince of Darkness, Devil of the Pit?

You've always been drawn

to the dark whisper.

There are things within us all that can never be unleashed.

Where've you been all night?

I went out with Mr. Gray.

He's a devil, that one.

The medal around my neck.

Would you wear it for me?

"No more let Life divide

"what Death can join together."

You're pretty goddamn sure you know what's going on all the time.

There are things you can't control.

At the end of the day, the only thing we have is the people we trust.

And you trust her?

You better start doing the same,

or get ready to lose a lot of battles.

Vanessa, I have a lot to tell you.

I haven't been honest with you about...

Penny Dreadful 01x07 - Possesion Original Air Date - June 22, 2014

To be beautiful is to be almost dead, isn't it?

Mmm...

The lassitude of the perfect woman,

the languid ease,

the obeisance,

spirit-drained,

anemic,

pale as ivory and weak as a kitten.

There's a brisk trade for photographs of dead women,

did you know that?

In certain quarters.

The corpses are improved with cosmetics,

then posed in postures of abject surrender

and photographed.

The men circulate the pictures

and pleasure themselves.

Mmm, such exquisiteness.

Vanessa?

Do you hear me?

Of course.

Last evening, you went into a...

a spell, or a fit of a kind, unlike previously.

Did I?

How arresting.

It was unnatural.

Do you not remember?

You've been asleep since.

Who dressed me?

Oh. Sembene and myself.

Did you make the tea then?

What?

No. Sembene did.

And you dressed me?

Yes.

Like when I was a girl?

Oh, no. You didn't dress me as a girl.

How silly of me.

You weren't there to dress me, were you?

You were away on some trek or other.

Who could keep them straight?

We tried to follow your progress on that map

in the solarium with little red pins

but you were in terra incognita.

That's where you said you were going.

What adventure in those words.

Do you feel you are there again... Father?

Mina?

Somewhat.

Fat Mother wept, of course.

Is there anything more comical than a fat woman weeping?

It never quite comes off.

You loathed her fatness.

Unlike those other women.

But fat Mother wept because she missed you, and feared for you.

Wept and wept and then she bit into her pillow

so we wouldn't hear her,

and then she turned to laudanum to sleep at all.

Poor fat thing.

Tell me about the other women.

Not Mrs. Ives, I know all about her.

You might have attended the funeral at least.

For decency's sake!

You stop this right now.

Ooh, it's that face, is it?

The hard face for the niggers.

Scare them into obeying.

The porters and slaves.

But we were speaking of the women.

They were as follows...

The whores in Zanzibar when you landed,

mostly North-African so almost white.

Then the native women along the way.

They enjoyed you pawing at them.

Or you convinced yourself they did.

You made Peter fuck them to prove he was a man.

He didn't enjoy it, but he would do anything for you.

Except make a proper off spin bowler like you wanted.

So on you went, tribe to tribe,

father and son, fucking the Maasai,

the Mamohela, the Bangweulu...

the Bantu, the Burundi!

Honestly, I'm sorry they've troubled you.

I'm quite well again.

And where did you receive your medical degree, Dr. Ives?

Would you excuse us?

Go on, Sir Malcolm.

He fears for my modesty I think.

May I make a discreet examination?

Ah, discretion always.

What happened to your lip?

Sembene thought it necessary to "sedate" me.

You've a steady pulse.

Yes, I believe I am still alive.

Would you come into the light for me?

And look up

to the left,

to the right.

I fear I'm not looking my best.

Nonsense.

Your visual responses are perfectly adequate.

High praise.

No wonder you're not married.

May I listen to your heart?

Such as it is.

- It's cold. - I'm sorry.

I always forget that with the living.

Deep breaths.

What happened downstairs?

I couldn't rightly say.

Then wrongly say.

I don't remember.

It's a shambles.

Is it?

There was violence.

There usually is.

When's that?

When I go away.

Where do you go?

I don't know!

Meaning you will soon bring in an alienist.

No.

I don't favor that.

Nor I.

You must eat something.

I'm not hungry for soup.

Well, I'm sure they will give you anything you like.

Cornish game hen,

expertly carved

by a beautiful boy in a restaurant.

You have very clean hands.

Yes, I suppose so.

Do you value cleanliness?

I suppose I do.

That's why you're a virgin.

Or maybe not.

Who can tell about such things?

Such hidden things.

Such secrets we all have, don't we, Doctor?

There's a line from Shelley that haunts me.

A single line, from Adonais.

I can't seem to get it out of my head.

"No more let Life divide

"what Death can join together."

Your clean hands are trembling.

Are you afraid?

Not of you.

You think you know a greater demon?

Tell me of him,

or shall I tell you?

Is the examination over?

It has not yet begun.

I've called Mr. Chandler to assist us.

It has happened before, but never to this extent.

She fights it as best she can.

What brings on the fits?

I don't know.

Emotion of some kind.

What brought on this one?

I don't know.

I must ask you a difficult question.

Has she experienced sexual trauma in her life?

I've no idea.

Is she intact?

I wouldn't have thought so.

I place no judgment on that.

I have no interest in your judgment.

Miss Ives is manifesting a deep psychosexual responsiveness.

I would say the root of her condition lies there.

In guilt.

Something or someone has triggered it.