The Blood on Satan's Claw

Go on, girl!

Ralph! Ralph!

Whoa!

Ralph!

Morning!

Hello!

Well, here's a how-do-you do.

What is your name, young man?

Ralph Gower, an' it please you, sir.

I wouldn't lie to Your Worship.

You work these fields each year?

Yes, sir, I be ploughman to Mistress Banham.

Ralph, you disturb me greatly with this tale.

I don't mean to, ma'am.

If you have unearthed a corpse, man, summon your local Justice.

- It's hardly a case for me. - But it weren't human, sir.

There were a fur.

Fur? Then it was an animal's remains.

- You're wasting my time. - No, sir, honest.

It were more like some fiend.

You see, my dear Isobel, the way these old superstitions die hard.

Come and look, Sir, then you'll believe me.

Pray, dear Judge, do ascertain the truth of his story.

Merely to set my mind at rest.

Very well.

We'll investigate your fiend.

Come.

There be the master with a lady.

Uh-huh.

I would have Cathy for my lady one day.

Be that true? You've run away?

Did ye climb down a ladder in the moonlight?

Ha, ha! Just so, Cathy. And her father chased after us with a stick.

I do wish Ralph would run away with me some time.

Ha!

Mistress Banham. Mistress Banham.

- What is it, Ellen? - 'Tis Mr Peter with a young lady.

What's that?

Oh, look, 'tis Miss Rosalind Barton. I heard he be courting her.

A farmer's daughter.

Be they wed? Shall we have a new young mistress in the house?

No, Ellen, we shall not. Be about your business.

Ellen?

Am I fit to meet your aunt? I pray she will like me.

Oh, you may be assured she will. Come on.

Come on, girl. Come on.

Are you there, Aunt?

I want you to meet Miss Rosalind Barton.

She and I are to be married tomorrow.

Rosalind, I want you to meet my aunt, Mistress Banham.

You disappoint me, Peter.

The judge was offended when you did not have lunch with him.

He's a most important man.

'Tis an honour to meet you, Mistress Banham. 'Tis a grand house you have here.

So, Miss Barton, you intend to marry my nephew. Is that it?

Well, Ralph?

But sir, it were just here. I swear it. The plough had turned it up.

- Human remains. - No, sir. A sort of head, a face.

Of a fiend?

I must surmise, Ralph, that you're wasting my time.

Hey!

I nearly lost him. Good day, Ralph.

Good day, Reverend.

Good day, sir.

Friendly creatures.

Ubique opera domini.

This be Reverend Fallowfield, your worship. He's our curate.

Aha.

Ralph here claims he discovered a deformed anatomy in those furrows.

Knew you of any such?

Not since Meg Parsons died.

But strange folk have been seen to pass this way...

from time to time.

I see.

So, young people, your elders triumph.

It does not appear that Miss Barton is the perfect partner for you.

No doubt in other respects, she will do better.

I hope you will all excuse me if I retire.

I hope the young lady doesn't propose to stay here,

under the same roof as her intended.

Well, sir, it may not appear correct, sir.

Quite incorrect.

Surely she can go home?

No, sir. That's the trouble.

- Ah. - Aunt, where shall Rosalind sleep?

The Judge is passing the night here. Far too late for him to return to the inn.

- Then Rosalind shall have my room. - No.

No, she can have the attic.

But it hasn't been inhabited these five years. The room is filthy.

Tush. Ellen will prepare it.

It's a charming room.

Why does your aunt dislike me so?

She suspects you're with child.

There, there, my sweet.

All will be well tomorrow.

- Whose are these things? - My uncle's.

He died ten years ago.

- Peter, do I have to sleep here? - Be patient, my love.

I shall come to you at 11 o'clock, when my aunt and the judge are both asleep.

I do love you.

Better you go now.

Your aunt.

11 o 'clock, then.

So, young man,

beware the wiles of women.

I tell you, in confidence,

a long time ago,

I was your aunt's admirer.

I give you His Catholic Majesty, King James Ill.

God bless him and keep him in exile.

Peter?

Peter, is that you?

Peter?

Ah!

Rosalind! Rosalind!

What have you been doing? What is it?

- What is it? - Oh!

What is it?

Come out. The sight of you disturbs her.

What have you been doing? Let me get in there.

Still, you little vixen. Do you hear me?

- Stay still. - Rosalind!

Oh! She scratched me.

Ellen, fetch Ralph.

I want nails and some wood.

Is there a doctor near?

Oh!

- No! - She is beyond our reach.

Tomorrow, the men from the bedlam will take her into care.

The madhouse?

Judge yourself fortunate, young man.

She could never have been the fit wife for you.

The fever is high.

There are so many sick of unknown maladies in these parts,

I fear a general plague.

We have much to learn.

- Have you some eau de vie? - Yes, sir. I'll fetch you some.

- What is happening to me? - Pray, do not distress yourself.

You merely have some distemper, as yet unknown to me.

I will open a vein and the humour will, perhaps, pass out.

If she's bled, 'twill ease her. It's all I can do.

You look. I don't want to.

Cathy's afeard.

I heard screams last night.

No. You dreamed 'em, you mean.

I wanna be back to the farm.

There's to be a wedding.

A wedding?

Yeah. I heard.

But Ma sent me and Mark away.

T'ain't right.

I found summat.

Here, let us see.

- No. - Come on, Angel.

Thou must do a forfeit.

Angel.

Wait for me!

'Tis a sorry day for us all.

Young master's heart is quite broke.

Poor lass.

Whatever will become of her in that terrible place?

Oh.

Mistress Banham. Mistress Banham!

Mistress, where be you?

Did the mistress come this way, sir?

- I think not. - Well, I can't see her nowhere.

She'm disappeared.

"...And let fall some of the handfuls on purpose for her"

"and leave them and she might glean them and rebuke her not."

Tell me, why was Boaz thus gentle toward Ruth?

- For... - Yes, boy?

For he were a man and she were a woman.

It was the will of God that he knew of her.

Go on, show it.

How can you glean any benefit for your souls

if you will not listen to the holy writ?

As the Lord himself hath said,

"Those who have ears to hear, let them hear."

Uh!

Ann, give me that.

She ain't got nothing, Reverend.

Angela.

Give me that bag.

Plain vanished, Reverend.

Given up the chase, have you?

We done our best, sir. We searched everywheres, hereabout.

In heaven's name, she cannot have gone far. Search again. Be off with you.

Silly old fool. Why don't he go and search 'is bloody self?

They've lost the scent completely, milord.

My hounds could have done better.

She must have the constitution of an ox.

She was a sick woman.

Indeed, Your Honour, as you say, she was a sick woman.

I must confess, sir, I fear there's something very strange afoot.

Did you hear what Gower turned up with his plough?

Justice Middleton, I myself examined the furrows.

There was nothing.

Nothing. Of course.

Unless it were witchcraft.

There have been some cases.