798 - (Back in color, Selby does the intro) - This is my fate, laments Magda--I can't run away--you couldn't run from my fate, so there's no point in trying. Resolutely, she goes to answer the door. Barnabas watches, miserable. Sandor is at the door, his eyes huge. Magda laces into him--did you find another girl?--I'll give you what-for, I swear!--look at him, Barnabas, doesn't he have shame all over his face? Sandor only mutters "Magda." She continues to chastise him for not having anymore money. "I come home," says Sandor haltingly. You bet--look at him, says Magda disdainfully. Barnabas senses something is terribly wrong as Sandor walk-staggers into the house. Should I forgive him everything without a word? Magda asks Barnabas--"Tell me what bad things you've been doing." "I seen Julianka, Magda," he says. Magda crosses herself. "When?" she asks--Julianka is dead. Yes, says Sandor, turning, exposing to Barnabas a knife buried in his back.
What happened? asks Magda. Barnabas says her name in a terrible voice-- "His back!" cries Barnabas. Sandor falls face-down on the floor, the knife sticking out of his back. Magda cries out incoherently. She and Barnabas kneel to check on Sandor. He's completely cold, says Barnabas--"He's been dead for a long time!" Magda bursts into sobs.
Quentin's music plays in the drawing room; he listens and drinks. Victor, downstairs on the phone, tells whoever he is speaking to, I must see you, Aristede, no matter how late it is--there are certain things you must be apprised of--meet me in an hour, usual place--and don't be late! Victor joins Quentin, remarking, I thought the music indicated a love sick lady. Far preferable to a disillusioned man, says Q. You're too young to be that, says Victor--such a sad state--I kept all my illusions until I was 35, at least, but I avoided feeling sorry for myself. Perhaps I have reason, says Q--have you ever had your fortune told? Don't believe anything a gypsy tells you, advises Victor, they are a vile lot--where their hearts should be, they have only a desire for revenge--I know much about them, made quite a study. Quentin doesn't respond. Has a gypsy been frightening you with tall tales of your future? inquires Victor. Three years ago, I was told I had no future, says Q. The one at the Old House who read your palm? asks Victor. Yes, says Q. Americans are so charitable, says Victor, and foolish, too. Quentin stares out the window. Victor observes, you seem fascinated. Moon-watching is one of my hobbies, says Quentin--one I hate. Perhaps you should get another hobby, suggests Victor--good night. Quentin looks pissed. Victor, excited, closes the double doors and says, "Yes, yes, perhaps that may be the way to proceed!"
Magda, a black veil over her head, kneels at Sandor's grave. "It is over," she laments. "Sandor and I are over." Barnabas drops his hand to her shoulder and says, we must get back. "You!" she cries--"He let you out of your coffin, and what thanks did you give to him?--you took a man and made a slave out of him--he died then, my Sandor, then, not now!--one night when you are in your coffin, I will kill you, Mr. Barnabas Collins--I swear it on Sandor's grave!" She looks old, and so sad. "All right," she says, exposing her neck. "Bite me. Bite me now. Let me be your slave, too, at least I will know then how Sandor felt those last months." "No, Magda," says Barnabas sadly, "you will not kill me. And I will not harm you. We will grieve together." (I have always loved this scene between them. It's beautiful.)
Gazebo - Quentin stands, holding a gun. He lifts it, wondering, do I have the courage--what am I waiting for?--Julianka was his only hope, and she's dead--who would grieve for Quentin Collins--Beth and Jamison, perhaps. Hearing Victor calling to Aristede, Quentin hides. Aristede is begging, "No, please, don't!" Victor is chasing him onto the gazebo, ordering him, "Come back!--you're a fool--I could have been out of here by now!" Once they are up on the gazebo, Quentin can't hear them anymore, so he hides behind a tree, straining to listen.
Aristede talks to Victor but Quentin can't hear them. The fact you killed Julianka has nothing to do with me, says Aristede. I would not have had that emotional reaction if you had gotten the hand and kept it, says Victor--we should have been out of here by now. Julianka must have had the hand, Aristede reminds him--why didn't YOU get it from her? Victor grabs his lapels and shakes him, asking, are you criticizing me? No, Aristede assures him, never. See that you don't, warns Victor, infuriated. I'm not complaining, not at all, says Aristede. Do you know what it's like to fall into the deepest sleep you've ever known? asks Victor--and the first thing you see upon awakening is blood on your pillow?--you rush to the mirror and what do you see--not that face you love so well, Aristede, but another face, a gift from the unicorn! Aristede, horrified, begs, "Tell me what to do!" Again, they converse, but Quentin can't hear.
Aristede protests, I can't talk to Quentin--he'll kill me! Perhaps that's what I have in mind, says Victor.
Magda tells Barnabas, for the first time, I have no interest in what will happen now, tomorrow or ever. You will, he assures her. I cannot live without love, she says--whoever I love will die! I know your feelings, he says--everyone I love must die, too. Oh, Barnabas! she says, then remembers--the child, Jenny's child, Quentin's son! Barnabas reminds her, you've never seen him. It's possible to love without seeing someone, insists Magda--I must stop what will happen--I want to go to Mrs. Fillmore and stop it before it happens--bless him, say an old gypsy prayer. He reminds her of the hour. I have a feeling, says Magda--I must go tonight--now. She leaves. Barnabas looks sick.
Quentin is still listening to the mimes of Victor and Aristede, but we hear the latter say, I just want to get out of this place--alive. So you shall, says Victor, as soon as you speak to Quentin--I'll tell you what to say, I wouldn't have it otherwise--I'm aware of your charms, but know conversation isn't among them. I won't get a chance to say anything, insists Aristede--Quentin hates me, with reason! Go now, says Victor, call me when he feels more--positive--then we will plan our little miracle--and smile, Aristede, before you go, think of the day you get the hand, the power I will have. You, says Aristede. Yes, says Victor, and I will be extremely greedy. And me? demands Aristede. You, asks Victor, you'll be the most elegant gentleman in the world--even the pockets of your suits will be made of the finest silks!--where shall we have your clothes made?--London, Paris? I think London. Think of London when you talk to Quentin Collins. Aristede, shaking his head, leaves the gazebo. Victor steps down and is grabbed from behind by Quentin, who holds the gun to his head. "Out so late, Mr. Fenn-Gibbons?" he asks. "Now I shan't kill you unless you refuse to tell me why you and Aristede are such good friends!"
Quentin demands, did you order Aristede to kill me? Don't press too hard on my throat, warns Victor, there's something wrong here. You're wasting time, says Quentin. Let me go, begs Victor. I can surely run faster than you, says Q, and releases him. You're much given to melodrama, remarks Victor. It seemed the easiest way to get you to talk, says Quentin. My friends claim I talk too much, says Victor, but I disagree.
Tell me the truth, demands Quentin, about you and Aristede. Victor is stunned when Quentin says that Aristede tried to kill him--has he come back to try again? asks Victor. You tell me, says Quentin. I wish I had known, says Victor, I certainly wouldn't have sent Aristede away--he didn't look like a murderer. You know him very well, accuses Quentin. Obviously not, counters Victor--I rather pride myself on my character-reading ability--Aristede didn't look like a murderer. Quentin shoves the gun in Victor's face and says, you aren't afraid of it, since you haven't answered any of my questions. Victor pushes the gun away from his face and claims, I never saw that man before in my life--I seldom sleep, and stroll at night, caught sight of him. . . "and slapped him," says Quentin. To make him tell him the truth, says Victor--but he wouldn't reveal who he was--he claimed he was a stranger trying to find his way back to the village. I don't believe that, insists Quentin. You haven't much choice, do you? asks Victor--if that man tried to kill you, we should inform the police immediately. No, says Quentin, I prefer to settle it myself. Settle it with him, and not with ME, suggests Victor. Perhaps I'll find I might have to settle it with both of you, says Q, pointing the gun at Victor again. You are suspicious, says Victor--even of your local police force, but you should tell them--life is too valuable to take such chances.
5 AM - Barnabas looks at the clock and asks Quentin, are you sure there's a connection between Fenn-Gibbons and Aristede? Positive, says Q; what it is, I don't know. That doesn't interest me, but why Victor refuses to admit knowing Aristede does, says Barnabas.--they both want the hand, that's obvious. Magda enters. Quentin tells her, I'm sorry about Sandor. Barnabas asks, has something else happened? "It's over," she says--"No one else will die." Oh, no, says Barnabas. Quentin asks, what's this all about? Don't ask me anything, says Barnabas. Why not--is someone else going to die? asks Quentin--"It has something to do with me, doesn't it?" He appeals to Magda, who asks Barnabas, "What does it matter?" "Quentin, your son is dead," she says. (no preamble there, my God!) "So it has happened," says Barnabas sadly. What does this means--I have no son, says Quentin--what is Magda talking about?
Barnabas apologizes and reveals--it's true--after you went away with Laura, Jenny had your twins, a boy and a girl-- Edward took them from Jenny after they were born. "Those dolls Jenny carried," remembers Quentin, looking stricken. "She never even told me," says Magda. Barnabas says, "Edward wanted no reminder of you at Collinwood." Quentin, stunned, asks, "How did my son die?" "The curse, Julianka's curse," says Magda--"He was well this afternoon, playing in the nursery, but this evening, Mrs. Fillmore heard a scream, ran to his bed and he was dead--cold, very cold in his crib--she said it was as if he had been dead a long time before." (just like Sandor!) "Oh my God," says Quentin, disbelieving, "my God. . .what about the girl?" "She's all right," says Magda. "Gypsies do not prize girls." (This whole scene has me close to tears. How awful for Quentin to learn of his kids after one of them dies.) "She must stay all right," says Barnabas. "If Chris Jennings is going to be all right in the future." "The future," mutters Magda. "Let it happen. Let the child stay alive, for us, Quentin, I do something, I swear it, I fix them good." "No more fixing, Magda," says Quentin softly. "No more. My son. . .my son. . ." He leaves. The clock strikes. Barnabas asks, should we have told him? "It don't matter," says Magda. Barnabas asks, will you be all right? Sure, she says, go do what you have to do, and so will I. I wish I could stay with you, he says quietly. "Go, Barnabas, go," she urges. Hide the hand, he advises--Aristede is still looking for it. The cock crows. "Until tomorrow," says Barnabas. "Yeah, I'll be here," says Magda, her chin trembling. After Barnabas retires, she opens the cellar door and takes down a hatchet hanging on a nail. She opens the box and takes out the hand. "You don't cause no trouble no more!" says Magda. She grips the hatchet and raises it up...
NOTES: How unutterably tragic for Magda to lose Sandor and her nephew in the same episode! For Quentin to learn he has a son, and in the same breath, find out he has lost him! To see poor Beth trying to be happy, to be optimistic, but to be continually shot down by Quentin! The performances were wonderful, kudos to all. I can't help but wish Julianka hadn't been so cruel to Magda. Then again, perhaps she was seeking revenge and who can really blame her? She was forced to help and has lost her own life.
The scene in which Magda lashes out at Barnabas, then demands he bite her, and his reply that they won't harm each other, but grieve together, is another of my all time favorite scenes. Beautifully acted and very emotionally engrossing.
How many other soaps had as much happening in one episode as DS? It's amazing, when I think and compare, that even the one-hour soaps of today aren't as chock-full of happenings as these last two eps of DS.
799 - Magda raises the hatchet over the hand of Count Petofi after blaming it for killing her good husband, and her nephew--"You don't do nothing no more!" she proclaims. She cuts the hand in half. "It is done!" she cries.
She takes two pieces of the hand and puts them in a knotted handkerchief. If King Johnny asks me where the hand is, I will tell him, vows Magda--even if he kills me! She tosses it into the fire.
Blue Whale - Tim drinks, defiantly telling Aristede, I work for the Collins family. When Aristede presses him for info on Quentin, Tim insists, I'm not going to discuss him with a stranger I met in a bar. I'm willing to pay, says Aristede. I'm an arrogant, lying drunk, says Tim, and it's a freebie--he only lives at Collinwood because his grandmother's will says so, otherwise the family would have kicked him out long ago. I already know all that, says Aristede--what kind of info are you looking for? I fight good, and dirty, boasts Aristede. So does Quentin, says Tim. I think Quentin is scared, says Aristede. Tim retorts, I think you're scared, too. You call it scared, I call it careful, says Aristede. Why iare you asking all this? questions Tim. Aristede walks behind him, drink in hand. What are you planning for Quentin? asks Tim. "I tell you now, and be blackmailed later," laughs Aristede-- sorry, no--we just had a misunderstanding and I must see him again, but Quentin won't want to see me. He slings an arm around Tim's shoulders and requests a favor. Why should I do that? asks Tim. Because you can't trust me, either, says Aristede, we'll be very good friends. And they clink glasses on that.
Quentin listens to his music in the drawing room, the inevitable glass of booze in his hand. "So I'm a father, he thinks--there was going to be another Quentin Collins, but he died (who said the kid's name would be Quentin?) And my daughter...what about her? Is she like Jenny? Dare I go see her? Dare I? Charity comes downstairs, hears Quentin's music, opens the door a second, then closes them. She checks her appearance, pinching color into her cheeks, then enters the drawing room. Might I come in? she asks. You almost did, a second ago, he reminds her. I remembered something I had to do, she says. Didn't take you long, he remarks. I'm very quick, she says, looking upset that he's drinking. "Brandy at this hour?--that's what you're thinking, isn't it?" asks Q. Charity touches her hand to her lips and denies that--I like seeing a man take a drink in the daytime, she says unconvincingly--I enjoy sophisticated men--why do you drink? I'm in sorrow, he says. For poor dear Judith? asks Charity. No, for myself, says Quentin, pouring another drink, for my life, in fact, I have several sorrows. He waves the decanter of booze under her chin and asks, would you care to drink one of them away for me? She leans away from the smell of the brandy and chuckles--I'll join you, she agrees, but I'll have sherry. What if your father walks in? he asks. I'll lock the door, replies charity. Then you'll be even MORE compromised, smirks Quentin, pouring her a drink. She laughs, covering her mouth. Don't you know what happens to nice ladies who are in locked rooms with drunken bachelors? he asks. You're a widower, she reminds him, which elicits a bitter comment from him. He asks, do you know I'm also a father?--I say that because I don't know who has heard these things and who has not. I didn't know, Charity says. I AM a father, he says. I had no idea, she says. Does that frightens you? he asks. No, it just makes me sad, she says--your wife must have been very young and beautiful when she died. "So I'm told," says Quentin. It's understandable that you didn't remarry, but I'm sure in time you will find that you do need someone, just as my father found out quickly after Mama died. He needed JUDITH, I think, says Q tellingly. Man isn't meant to live alone, says Charity, at least I've been told. You succeeded, he says. Not very well, says Charity, I long to be more settled.
You'll find someone, Quentin assures her, but having money of your own would help, it always does. Money means little to me, says Charity, and it isn't one of the things I look for in a husband--family and a sense of humor are more important--"You have a very appealing sense of humor, Quentin." How could I? he demands--I'm always completely serious. Someone tries to get in--Magda--Quentin says, I don't want my fortune read today. Magda says, I must talk to you. He laughs drunkenly and says, no one can resist my charm. Magda enters--we must be alone, she tells Quentin. My father doesn't like you in this house, says Charity. (so uppity!) Magda orders Q, tell her to leave. He asks Charity--would you be so kind? If we can finish our conversation later, says Charity. He takes her hand, leans in close, as if to kiss her, then kisses her hand, saying, we don't have much choice, do we? She trembles and laughs, then flies out of the drawing room. Magda closes the doors and says, I have good news--I cut up the hand with a hatchet and threw it into the fire. "NO!" screams Quentin, "NO!", and grabs her around the throat.
Quentin strangles Magda--You're a fool! he shouts--what will I do now?--do you want me to be found out?--for the curse to go on? No, she cries, struggling in his throttling grasp. He releases her and asks, sorrowfully, why did you burn the hand? No good, she tells him, no good! We could have found another Julianka, says Q. She was the only one, insists Magda. Someone, somewhere has got to make that hand cure me, says Q. The hand is bad, evil, says Magda, but it won't cause anymore trouble. No sooner are the words out of her mouth when the hand appears before them. MAgda gasps and cries out, then screams. Tim listens outside the drawing room door, hearing Magda yell, "Stay away!" and Quentin yelling another NO! It's going to kill me! says Magda, turning her back, but instead, it disappears. They look around, wondering where it went. Magda is terrified.
The hand can't be destroyed, says Quentin, then excitedly suggests--maybe it was trying to help me, perhaps that's why you couldn't destroy it. It came back to hurt us, insists Magda. You told me it was the most magical hand in the world, Q reminds her. Tim, listening, smiles. Yes, agrees Magda. What good has it done us? demands Q, changed a face or two? Charity would be dead and in her grave if not for that hand, Magda reminds him. Look at the people who are dead because of it, says Quentin, pouring another drink--your husband, Julianka and "my son!" That's right, says Magda sarcastically, have a drink, that's a good way to get over it! Don't tell me how to get over it, says Quentin, that's one thing I'm not very good at, or else I wouldn't be like I am. Quentin, says Magda, we fight, I yell at you, you yell at me, but that hand has got power to do anything, if you know how to get it to work for you. "Quentin, I ain't gonna cry no more!" she says. All right, says Q, I'll go to Evan, he knows about the hand, he'll use it. No, says Magda, I'd rather pray that the hand goes away, that when I return to the Old House, it won't be in the box, but gone forever. Tim knocks at the door and greets Quentin and Magda. I haven't been to see you in a long time, Tim tells the gypsy. "You didn't need anymore deadly nightshade, eh?" she asks Tim. He looks scared. "You don't remember?" she asks. No, says Tim--when did I buy nightshade from you? A day or so before Minvera Trask died, says Magda. Tim grabs her arm and demands, "I came to you? I bought poison?" You haven't anymore memory than anyone else in this place, complains Magda. He releases her. I know what you did with it, states Magda, and stalks off. Tim tells Quentin, I have no idea what Magda is talking about, then hands him a note. Quentin offers him a drink. Tim refuses. They say she has powers, that Magda, says Tim, as Quentin reads the note. "Are you a friend of his?" Q asks in a steely voice. No, says Tim, but he wants to see you very badly, he thinks there has been a misunderstanding between the two of you. Misunderstanding? repeats Q--you COULD put it that way. I know nothing but that Aristede wants to see you, says Tim--it's vital. Interesting word--vital--says Q, it implies living, life--doesn't it? I suppose, agrees Tim. Quentin picks up the letter opener and says, "Vital. Yes it is vital to see him once more--vital to me." Is he still at the Blue Whale? Asks Quentin. I left him there, answers Tim Quentin races out. Tim is about to follow when Charity appears on the stairs and calls his name, her face stony. I came to see Quentin, he says. "Stay away from Quentin," she spits, "you'll kill him just as you killed Mama!--get out and never come back!" Tim goes.
Aristede lights his cheroot with a candle on the table at the Blue Whale. Quentin enters and Aristede greets him with a smile. "I know what I want," he says to Aristede--"what do you?"
Quentin appears to be holding something dangerous in his pocket. Before you do anything, says Aristede, will you just listen to me? Quentin grins--did you listen to me when you had me tied to that table? It was wrong, not a good plan, says Arisede. I have words you need to hear; soon the moon will be full again, so I suggest you take your hand from your pocket, sit down and listen. Quentin takes out his watch. Two minutes, he says, joining Aristede at the table. Aristede asks, do you have a knife or gun in your pocket. 15 seconds, says Q. I was wrong, admits Aristede, not to tell you certain facts about myself. 30 seconds. There is a cure, says Aristede. 40 seconds, says Q. "Aren't you listening to me, don't you want to be cured?" demands Aristede. I don't believe you, says Quentin. Do as I say, says Aristede--next week, when the moon is full, if you aren't cured, you don't have to give me what I want. The hand, of course, says Quentin--do you know the cure? No, admits Aristede. If you had said you did, says Quentin, I'd have killed you--who DOES know the cure? I can't tell you, answers Aristede, but if you come to Collinwood tomorrow night and show me you have the hand, I'll take you to someone who knows--you can put it anywhere you want, give it to anyone you trust, because WE can help you. WE, pounces Quentin-- who else knows about me? Someone who knows the moon better than you or I, says Aristede. That makes no sense, says Quentin. Does any of it makes sense? Asks Aristede, what you are, what we're sitting and discussing here? (He has a good point!) How much time do I have left now? asks Aristede. Your time is up, says Quentin viciously. Are you going to kill me? asks Aristede. Would Mr. Fenn-Gibbons mind? Asks Q. Aristede repeats the name, mystified. Never mind, says Quentin, I should know better than to expect too much truth from you in one meeting. He rises from the table and asks Aristede, what time tomorrow?--I'll be at Collinwood. Anytime you say, answers Aristede. Quentin leaves without another word. Aristede takes a smiling, self-congratulatory puff on his cheroot.
Tim watches Magda through the Old House window. When she comes to the window to look out, he quickly hides. The clock chimes 5. To Magda's horror, the hand emerges from the fireplace and chases after her. She runs from the house, sobbing. Tim enters the house and finds the hand lying on the floor. He kneels, remembering Quentin's words that this is the most magical hand in the world--"It's got power to do anything," she said.
Tim picks up the hand (which looks quite real and grotesque), and says, "You're what I need--you're exactly what I need!".
NOTES: What does innocent little Timmy plan to do with the hand? Can he possibly figure out how to control it, given that no one else seems to have been able to?
Loved the conversation between Quentin and Aristede, didn't you? The latter managed to say the one and only thing that prevented Quentin from killing him. I also enjoyed the discussion between Charity and Quentin. She's such an innocent, too, trying to bag Quentin as her husband. Imagine if she knew the truth about him? She'd surely be running in the opposite direction! It's like watching a guppy swimming in a tank with a great white--he's eaten his share of little girls like her! But how poignant it is to hear Quentin talking of his dead son to another person, wondering if she knew, too, before he did, that the child existed.
That blasted hand can't be destroyed, can it? Magda tried, but it returned! What power it must have!
Love, Robin
