Original subtitles

Previously on Penny Dreadful...

Is it the Ripper come back?

The body you brought, I can confirm that it's human blood.

The more unusual properties are beyond my expertise.

You'll want to speak to a haematologist.

Then I'll engage one and you'll consult with him.

Would you remove your corset, Miss Croft?

Do you have medicine?

No, who has money for that?

She has consumption.

Who doesn't love a lost cause?

Welcome to the Grand Guignol.

You shall be our new stage rat.

I seek a companion.

Rise and walk with me, creator.

You will make me

an immortal mate.

I'm trying to rescue my daughter.

Do you know the name Mina?

I know the name Vanessa.

I think it's possible the creature we seek wants you.

So I was bait?

Where is your master?

Everywhere.

Where is your master?

He's the first real connection we have to Mina.

Even if it means beating him to death?

My name is Dorian Gray.

You thought this was going to be a wasted evening,

but now you're not so sure.

Why didn't you go in?

Don't you like churches?

Well, I suppose I do.

I find it an awful chore, the services.

The singing's kind of all right.

Yes.

You won't go in?

Why do you think I want to?

The way you look at it.

It's only an old Catholic church.

Right you are.

Where's your mother?

Oh, she passed away.

My little brother doesn't know,

but Papa told me as I'm practically a grown-up.

My nanny's over there.

She's a beast.

You don't have a sweetie, do you?

Afraid not.

I've a bit of peppermint in my dresser,

but it's very old and I daren't.

Very sensible.

We put Mother under the ground.

But I don't think she'll stay there.

They never stay, do they?

Where do they go?

You know.

Do I?

Of course you do.

Heaven, silly. They go to heaven.

Unless they go to the other place.

Lucy, come along.

Don't bother the lady.

Good morning, ma'am.

Yes, good morning.

Come along.

Mr Gray?

Miss Ives.

What an unexpected pleasure.

Have you an interest in botany?

All I really seem to know about plants is how to kill them.

Then let me show you something extraordinary.

I like to see one extraordinary thing every day.

What I find so fascinating about flowers is their duplicity.

Duplicity?

Well, their hidden depths, at any rate.

Here, look at this.

It's beautiful.

You can do better.

Give me words.

Delicate, subtle fragrance.

Like a berry,

but not a woodland thing. Not a thing of the forest, something...

...of the jungle.

What does it say to you?

Touch me.

With your finger.

Softly.

My scent on your neck.

Open your lips.

Taste.

Atropa belladonna. Deadly nightshade.

- No. - Afraid so.

The berries are quite lethal, whole thing in fact.

You're a font of useful information.

God!

No one's ever accused me of being useful before.

It's the adder beneath the rose, isn't it?

All Of this.

They can seem so enticing and luxurious,

yet within, there's a dark thing waiting.

Things are so rarely what they seem.

Which of us does not have our secrets, Miss Ives?

Here's what I wanted to show you.

Rothschild's slipper.

The rarest orchid on Earth, and thus the most expensive.

It's only found in one place, a particular mountain in Borneo.

It can take up to 15 years to bloom.

All that time, perfecting itself.

A lifetime for six perfect flowers.

How long will it bloom?

A moment.

Is it poisonous?

Like all beautiful things,

I hope so.

This has been an unexpected pleasure for me, Miss Ives,

but I'm afraid I've another engagement.

You will excuse me?

Yes, of course.

I'm off to the theatre tonight.

More beautiful illusion.

Do enjoy the flowers.

Unusual torpor to be sure.

Maybe it's from the ice.

Take a look, my friend.

Lividity, yes?

Yes.

Corpuscular interaction, as you'd expect.

Nothing else of note?

I'm not a haematologist, this is your bailiwick.

Then we shall delve a little deeper.

Would you be good enough to prepare another slide for us?

You have steady hands. Oh, to be young again.

You have the steadiest hands I've ever seen, Professor Van Helsing.

A steady heart, perhaps.

We will stain the sample, yes?

My God.

What's happening?

There is no real name for the interdiction.

Immodestly, I confess I invented the solution that makes it visible to us,

so I named it after my late wife.

That is Hannah's Wink.

This blood contains a unique property that prevents coagulation completely.

To what end?

Does it have to have an end?

Nature does not create such rare occurrences with no purpose.

Well, if one had to give a purpose to it,

it would assist with haematophagy.

The eating of blood.

How long have you known Sir Malcolm?

We only met recently at a social engagement.

When he learned I was a haematologist, he engaged me to consult with you.

So he didn't tell you where the blood was from?

The subject, I mean.

He didn't have to.

Not when I saw your reaction to Hannah's Wink.

Do you know why he wants us to analyse it?

Sir Malcolm is looking for a cure

for something he doesn't understand.

Do you?

Intimately.

Excuse me.

We'll have to continue later.

Do what you have promised me.

- I am. - In that house?

My lab is a shambles.

I have to reconstitute my equipment and furnishings,

all of which takes money!

Do what you have promised me.

I'm trying.

It's not an easy thing, this you ask of me.

I will need supplies.

Then find them.

I mean a physical subject.

Who knows better than I what you mean?

It will take time.

Do not temporise, demon.

Be at it!

My bride must be...

Must be beautiful.

To match her mate?

What a simple thing it is to snap your neck.

You are so fragile, you mortals,

such things of skin and air.

Such things of the past.

The future belongs to the strong,

to the immortal races,

to me and my kind.

Look upon your master.

I wonder what lips yours have kissed and where.

Too many, I'm sure.

That's in the past.

I was engaged once,

back in Belfast.

Riveter in the shipyard he was.

Brutal man with brutal hands.

When he fucked me,

he would put one of those big hands

over my face and turn it away,

so he wouldn't have to look into my eyes.

There I was, engaged to him.

Why?

There was no money.

It's what you did. You married or you whored.

One night,

he was fucking me,

and he got really tough and there was blood.

I went to my mother.

She said to go back and marry him.

Same day I walked down Leopold Street off the Shankill Road

and fucked a stranger for money.

We've all done things to survive.

There are such sins at my back it would kill me to turn around.

I got an idea.

I want to take my lady out on the town.

Oh, where is she?

Get your best duds ready for tonight, we're going out.

My "duds"?

I'm off to work.

This work of yours...

You'll be careful?

Oh, hell.

Nothing I haven't seen before, darlin'.

Steady on, lad.

Keep your fucking needles to yourself.

Get a scalpel! Cut me open. Eat up, eat up.

For heaven's sake, will you sedate him?

His chatter is becoming wearisome.

Where's Vanessa?

I want Mother.

Why?

Why do you want her?

Why does everyone want her?

So nurturing, isn't she, Sir M?

Gentlemen, if you will.

Fuck you, you butcher.

Butchers all.

Especially you, you toff wanker.

Oh, this is sad.

No, no, I don't want to sleep.

Why not?

So many monsters.

Jesus.

Remind me why we're doing this again.

We are seeking a cure.

We don't even know what the disease is.

We think the condition is based in the blood,

so we'll start with transfusion.

Out with the old, in with the new.

Roll up your sleeve.

Why?

We need a subject.

No.

Roll up your sleeve, it won't hurt.

That's not a good idea.

Why not?

Trust me.

I'll do it.

We'll start with a small amount

and work in gradual stages.

If there's an improvement, we'll continue.

How will we be able to tell?

Well, he won't want to eat everyone for a start.

Honestly, this will hurt a little.

How long do we have to wait?

Sembene will alert us when he wakes up.

Are these our boys, do you think?

The creatures? No.

"Bodies dismembered, limbs flayed."

Sounds awfully familiar.

No blood drained.

For all the bestiality, it's a fully human act, I think.

Had there been more evidence of cannibalism, then perhaps.

So he didn't consume the flesh?

- That's a... - Would you stop it?

Holy Christ, you're both morbid fucks.

My, my. That temper of yours.

We're not all bloodless dandies.

- Is that what I am? - I don't know what you are.

You could not understand it, believe me.

My, my. What arrogance.

Thin skin, Mr Chandler.

Gentlemen.

Is there not enough tension in this house?

Do you know much about the Nile?

In my profession it's the Holy Grail.

The actual scientific value

of discovering the source is negligible of course,

but it's a sort of a fever.

Who will claim the prize?

Who will trace the Mother of Waters to its origins?

World renown awaits.

Would you like to come with me, Mr Chandler?

I could use a man with a temper.

Not enough danger for you here?

Gentlemen, you do look solemn.

Oh, we're planning a little holiday.

Taking a holiday, are we?

That's jolly.

Where?

You shall have to ask my more robust brother.

I've asked Mr Chandler to accompany me to Africa.

Oh, that.

Why must you always denigrate my work?

Because you're not really going to go.

Leave the mad larks to the boys, Sir Malcolm.

Oh, not me, just him.

I'm bloodless.

The essence of your appeal, Doctor.

You've had a long day.

I went to look at something beautiful.

He is awake.

Can you hear me, Mr Fenton?

Are you going to beat me?

No.

Oh, thank you.

Did I deserve that?

I'm so hungry.

I need blood, you fucking devil whore!

Give me rats and bats and lungs and guts and flesh!

Give me what I need!

It will be a process.

Get him something to eat.

Not what you bargained for?

Never is.

I know it's disturbing. A terrible thing.

I'm not disturbed by him. I'm disturbed by us.

How far do we go?

To that, I dare not hazard an answer.

Enjoy your evening, Mr Chandler.

I suppose we could get him some very rare meat.

Or scraps from the butcher's yard, or even the slaughterhouse.

Oh, Ethan, I've wanted to come here forever.

Monstrous little horrors they enact.

Say it like that and you can get me to do anything.

- What? - "Eatin'."

Shut up.

Miss Croft?

Five minutes.

Five minutes.

Let us murder the people tonight.

Travellers all to a sacred place,

indulge with us our act of grace.

Presented for you a theatrical feast,

which we have entitled

The Transformed Beast!

Beautiful!

Oh, she's so pretty.

And so are you.

In sylvan grove I await my love,

who calls me yet his gentle dove.

Innocent am I and only 15,

unschooled in the ways of all things obscene.

Not for long!

Truest love, my most adored,

I speak this night of things abhorred.

Of evil spirits and fortunes cursed,

of blackest night and things far worst.

When raven crows and adder hisses,

'tis no time for Cupid's kisses.

On nights so dreary black and bleak, perforce of villainy must we speak.

But fear thee not, beloved youth,

for we shall surmount all things uncouth.

Our deepest love, our fulsome ardour, now must survive a test much harder

than any two lovers did hence endure, a test of faith both dire

and obscure.

But surely love is supernatural,

a secret urge and not quite factual.

A longing so deep and dark and rare, that only such as we can share.

Was she right, Miss Ives,

that you're not actually going to Africa?

Would my house be full of cartographic equipment

if I were not?

When do you head off?

A matter of a few months.

I have to attend to some final details.

Like selecting your travelling companions?

Are you jealous, Doctor?

I'm not surprised, certainly.

I've never been valued for my athleticism.

That was always the sphere of my brothers.

From time to time, though, one would like to be thought of as capable.

I lost a son in Africa.

He was much like you in a way.

Mr Chandler means nothing to me. He is a finger on a trigger.

You are not.

Cold blows the wind

To my true love

And gently drops the rain

I never had but...

Master.

The tempest sounds close round our ears

and swifter ever the demon nears.

I fight with manly fortitude, my spirit still would love exude,

but there grows within a mighty beast

that strains and yearns for quick release!

My gentle love, my only charm, your anguish I would soon disarm.

There cannot be a happy end,

for claw will slash and tooth will rend.

But to me you can no harm intend. I am your one devoted friend.

Inside my skin crawls such a humour,

I cannot credit it as something human.

Instead a fire grows deep within me

that burns and roils and leaps for thee.

How can I contain such Promethean flame?

How can I ever this demon tame?

Our time is up.

Our love is dead.

God's nowhere near,

for the beast is here!

Oh, my God.

My knees can't take this fucking play.

Excellent!

Ladies and gentlemen, the next act will begin in 15 minutes.

I thought Miss Ives had gone out.

She has.

Your man then?

Sembene is off tonight.

She's not here, Master.

Mother?

No, no, no, it's always been that way.

Next week, I'll be out at sea.

Brandy, please.

Thank you.

Mr Chandler.

Miss Ives, what a pleasure.

This is Miss Brona Croft.

Brona, Miss Vanessa Ives.

How do you do, Miss Croft?

Ma'am.

So lovely to meet you at last.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you here,

being a man of the theatre yourself.

Miss Ives.

I knew you'd find me.

Or did you find me?

Hello, I'm Dorian Gray.

Ethan Chandler.

This is Miss Brona Croft.

Hello.

We've met, I believe.

Meet so many people, don't you?

How do you like the show?

It's thrilling.

There's nothing like the theatre, is there?

If you like illusion.

And apparently declamation.

You're a fine one to speak of declamation, Mr Chandler.

When we met, you were tearing a bit of a passion yourself.

Are you an actor?

I was a sharpshooter in a Wild West show.

That hardly does you justice.

Henry Irving himself cannot reach your heights of rhetorical flourish.

Excuse me, I need some air.

Excuse us.

Brona.

What's going on?

Don't you worry about me.

Are you all right?

Go on to your friends, now, won't you?

And if she's your kind of lady, you can bloody well enjoy her!

Let's just go home.

It's a sad spectacle, Ethan, why don't we just admit it?

Brona, please.

You're fucking a skeleton every night, for Christ's sake.

There's no goddamn future in it for either of us.

Who are we trying to fool?

You want to watch me die?

Fuck, no.

Go on, go on! Go in to your lady friend now,

and have one of your clever chats, you two.

Wake up, son.

From now on, you fuck me like anyone else,

after you've paid.

Mr Chandler.

The next act is about to begin.

Mr Chandler?

Are you all right?

You ever wish you could be someone else?

Just run away from your life?

All the time.

You want to be someone else?

Come with me.

Does it involve a drink?

- Many. - What about Miss Ives?

She doesn't want to be anyone else.

You're on, Mr Gray.

Lovely.

After you. We've got all night.

I should warn you. This is not completely legal.

Not my first time.

Fifty here!

Fifty-seven!

Write it down.

Eighty-seven!

Eighty-nine, please!

- One-hundred and three! - Thank you!

Forty-eight!

Seventy!

Twenty-feud!

One-hundred and three! One-hundred and three!

That's Flash Jack. The best there is.

A true artist at it.

Once killed 120 rats in six minutes, 1 O seconds.

Flash Jack, 74!

May I have 97?

Let's get on with it.

He won last week. He's a good dog.

Fifty-five, on the money.

Go on. Go on.

Excuse me.

Whisky.

Not your sort of thing, is it?

I say, I was speaking to you.

Don't talk to me.

American.

Well, perhaps you don't understand gentlemen's sport.

You're in Britain now.

We do things like we like, you hear?

Answer him, you rude thing.

Don't touch me.

Answer him, you rude thing.

Come on, Jack! Go!

I'm awfully sorry.

I have a temper.

I won, by the way.

Flash Jack.

Ninety-seven on the nose.

Not that it matters.

Why not?

It's not as diverting as it used to be.

Once you get used to something, why bother?

It's just repetition.

You like your cologne.

How do you choose?

Depends on how I feel.

Or how I want to feel, I suppose.

Different aromas make you feel differently, don't they?

Citrus and sandalwood produce one feeling.

Musk and lavender another.

Citron.

Jasmine, mint.

Each produces a different sensation.

A different you.

I get carried away.

Good for you.

Do you like pictures?

Mostly the ones of the buxom ladies that hang above saloon bars.

You play your part to perfection, Mr Chandler.

What part's that?

Rude, mechanical.

Rugged Westerner.

But I suppose we all play parts.

What's yours?

Human.

Do you know absinthe?

No. Never had the pleasure.

Then we shall toast your first taste.

To the most mysterious thing in London...

Miss Vanessa Ives.

What's happened?

It was here.

It came here?

And the boy is dead.

It came after him?

The creature was in your room.

It came after you.

I think it was all a ploy.

Allowing us to capture him, bringing him here.

We practically invited it in, didn't we?

But it was Mina who led me to him.

Suggesting what, Vanessa?

That...

Mina is manipulating me.

That she may be beyond our help.

That she may be your enemy.

Can you blame her?

I'm not the only one in this house she has a reason to hate.

I betrayed your daughter once.

You ignored her your entire life.

So have the courage to face your own sin

before you cite mine so easily.

There are times when I wish Mina had been born with your cruel spirit.

You're the daughter I deserve.

So, we'll carry on with this fight.

We can lose every battle, except the last.

Do you have a favourite?

I do.

But it's not in here.

I've seen some pictures I like a lot actually.

I don't know if they count.

There's an Anasazi village in Colorado.

This was an Indian tribe that died out a long time ago.

They build this town up the side of the mountain, in the cliffs.

There are some paintings they left on the walls

from thousands of years ago.

No people.

Just animals.

The sun.

The moon.

Whatever they thought important enough to...

Remember.

Why do you like them?

They're primitive.

No.

They're honest.

Can art be honest?

You're the expert there.

I think music can.

Perhaps only music, because it's ephemeral.

That's the paradox. Music is a phantasm, but it's true.

You know your music, too.

Oh, I'm bored with them.

I know every groove of every cylinder.

There's nothing new.

There is one though.

I would ask if you know Wagner, but you'd only pretend you don't.

It's the Liebestod

from Tristan und Isolde.

Literally translated, it means "love-death."

This is the very end of the opera.

Isolde's lover is dead before her.

They're on a beach.

The waves are rolling in and out.

You can hear that in the music, can't you?

And her heartbreak, you can hear that.

Stop it!