803 - Edward returns home and shrugs out of his coat. We hear a carriage drive away outside. He enters the drawing room to find Quentin drinking, and suggests it's a little early. Quentin assures his brother--after you hear what happened today, you'll need a drink, too, and holds out the booze. I'll decide that for myself, says Edward--what has happened this time? It's Jamison, says Quentin, he's not physically ill, but he's been possessed. Edward is shocked and disbelieving. That's my only explanation, says Q--possessed by Count Petofi, a dangerous murderer, a man who, before he left, wished us nothing but evil. Edward, skeptical, wonders-- what has stimulated your mind and stirred up your fears--is it the drink, opium, what? Quentin assures him--Mr. Fenn Gibbons is not what he seems--he's a threat to the Collins, and predicted each of us would learn the truth about ourselves, and one by one, we would all be destroyed by that truth. You're doing a very good job of destroying yourself without Mr. Fenn Gibbons, remarks Edward--I have too many real problems to contend with, without having to put up with your phantoms. He's real and dangerous, especially to Jamison, says Q. No, says Edward, in your present condition, you're far more dangerous to my son than Mr. Fenn Gibbons could ever be, and if you dare to say any of this nonsense to Jamison, I will have to deal with you--the subject is closed. Jamison enters in and says, "Good morning, Mr. Collins." Edward stares at his son, walks toward him--where have you been? asks Edward. Walking around the grounds, says Jamison--"I find your Maine weather most stimulating this time of year."--you look a little pale--perhaps you ought to get out. He fiddles with his gloved hands, rubbing the right with the left, going on about "the sense of discovery I find outdoors, particularly about HIM." Edward nervously says, I don't understand what you're talking about. "But you will," promises Jamison--"before this day is through, you will know many things that you know not now, including the truth about yourself!" Edward looks at Quentin, who looks back as if to say, See? I told you!
Jamison fiddles with his black gloves. Quentin starts to speak, but Edward orders him to be quiet, and turns to Jamison, who asks for a brandy, then goes to get one himself. "Jamison!" cries Edward--stop this little game that you and your uncle have set up to annoy me--I'm not in the mood for it. He isn't playing, insists Quentin, he's been possessed! Stop saying that, demands Edward. I suggest you stop closing your mind, says Quentin--there's something drastically wrong with the boy. If so, it's because you and your kind have brought it here, snorts Edward angrily. Let's not argue about that, says Q, let's take care of the boy before it's too late. Jamison agrees it is getting late--I'm going upstairs to rest before dinner. Stay here, orders Edward. "I beg your pardon?" says Jamison. Stay here, repeats Edward, then gentles his tone--I had a very difficult day. Yes, and before it's through, it will be more and more difficult, promises Jamison--now as long as you've insisted on me staying, I want a brandy. No, says Edward. Jamison complains about his hospitality. You must do something! says Quentin. I will, Edward assures him. He rings for someone, then picks up the phone and, as Quentin drinks, calls Dr. Brooks--come out, I'm worried about Jamison--I don't want to discuss it over the phone, just come ASAP. Jamison is drinking a glass of something. Just what do you thinks you're doing? asks Edward. "Mineral water," says Jamison, gazing evilly at Edward, "for the digestion." Beth enters. Edward orders her, take Jamison up to his room and stay with him; don't leave him alone. Come with me, Beth tells Jamison, we'll go upstairs now. "Yes," says Jamison, "I think that would be most pleasurable before dinner." He excuses himself to Q and E and leaves with Beth. You must realize a doctor won't do any good, says Quentin. Edward harshly reminds him--Jamison is MY son, and your meddling must stop. What about your meddling?--let's talk about that, suggests Q. (Here it comes.) Let's talk about what you did to Jenny. That wasn't meddling, says Edward, I was looking after her--someone had to! You turned her into a crazy woman, accuses Quentin. You did that, says Edward--I just tried to prevent her from hurting herself or others. I see, chuckles Quentin, furious, but I believe you were preventing the holy, sanctified Collins name from being damaged. I had to look after Jenny because you didn't care for her, says Edward. Oh, didn't I? asks Quentin, how do you know that? A man doesn't leave his wife when he cares for her, says Edward. You have all the proper Collins answers, says Quentin--"Answer this question--what about MY children?" Edward, taken aback, pretends he doesn't know, but Quentin pursues it--why didn't you tell me about my children--or didn't you think I cared about them, either?--"Well I did care about the children, I cared a great deal! I discovered how much, yesterday, when I found that my son was dead." "Dead?" asks Edward. "My son is dead," says Quentin softly. Edward apologizes. I don't believe you're sorry after all, says Q, because "My children are only half Collins--what did you think when you learned that were also half gypsy?" Edward repeats--I am sorry the boy is dead, why can't you let it go at that? "BECAUSE I WON'T!" yells Quentin, sounding near tears--you and your sense of family, your demand that things always be exactly right--well what did you think when you looked at that little boy with the gypsy eyes and the Collins name?" Edward turns and demands, leave me alone--I never saw the boy after he left this house. Oh, I see, says Q bitterly--I should have realized--why should you have cared that he might have perhaps needed you? That's a startling accusation, says Edward--I merely saw to it he was provided for. You saw to everything, most of all, to the Collins name, says Quentin, which is what you've done all your life--if anyone failed to live up to it--Jenny, my children, Judith--no matter who--you are the judge and jury and you see to it that they are banished before the world finds out the truth--well, Edward, you call your doctor if you think that's right, and you listen carefully to what he tells you, because it may be time for your own son's banishment! Edward's face is stony, implacable. (Selby's performance here was outstanding, and Louis Edmonds not far behind him.)
Dusk - Beth's room - Jamison and Beth are playing a game. She suggests he take off his gloves. There's a very good reason I can't, he says, just as there's a very good reason you are so distracted--I don't feel your mind is on the game, but on someone else, who fills your every thought, whose command you wait for. I don't understand you, she says. He gazes at her intently. She rises from her chair, uncomfortable, and says perhaps I should call your father. My father isn't here, says Jamison--that's a peacock, a vain, and a little man, name-proud. Be quiet, orders Beth--I'm going to call your father. Seeming more like himself, Jamison begs her not to. It's for your own good, she says. Everyone always says that, he complains, but they don't know, they never ask what I want or how I feel. What do you want? she asks. I want people to like me, he says. And to be noticed, she adds. She kneels, touches him, says--I suppose we do get caught up in our own lives, and forget you, until you start pretending, and frighten us. I'm not pretending, says Jamison, I really like you. And I like you, she responds. He bends down and kisses her cheek. She seems stunned. Is there something you'd like to do? he asks. Maybe you should lie down and nap, she suggests.
And while I nap, where will you be, Beth?--out there, with him! Go to the window, Beth, see if he's calling you--go, Beth, go! She does go to the window, opens it, looks out. Someone knocks at the door--Edward, asking Beth how Jamison is. He's all right, says Beth. Is he running a fever? asks Edward. I don't know, replies Beth. Take it immediately, says Edward, checking the boy's forehead, proclaiming he is warm--the window shouldn't be open. It was very warm, she says, reaching into the dresser. It isn't now, he says, going to close the window. No, says Beth. What's the matter with you? Edward demands. Jamison grins, really big, showing lots of teeth. Beth looks strange. Why don't you tell him, Beth? asks Jamison. "I am waiting for my master to call me," says Beth--"Barnabas Collins." Hearing this name, Edward says, "Oh, no," then tells Jamison, go downstairs and wait for me; I must speak with Beth. Jamison leaves. Tell me the meaning of this! commands Edward. Beth looks scared, lost.
We see two red candles. Quentin stands over Jamison, hands on the boy's head, calling to the evil spirit possessing "that which is not thine to possess," depart and leave the boy in innocence! Depart, I say, depart! Jamison, annoyed, says, "And I say, as soon as you're finished with all the mumbo jumbo, would you hand me a glass of mineral water?" Quentin says, I will try to incantation again, please, make your mind as pliant as possible. Edward interrupts--I already told you to keep away from Jamison!--Jamison, go upstairs. The child leaves. The doctor can't do any good in this case, insists Quentin--if I can reach Petofi's spirit, the boy at least might have a chance. No, says Edward, and I'm serious. He rummages around in a tallboy and takes out a gun. Quentin assumes he'll shoot him next time he tries to talk to Jamison. No, says Edward, I don't need six silver bullets for that. Put it away, orders Quentin. Edward, filling the gun with bullets, teases him about deciding he isn't worth the family name (you're not, of course, adds Edward nastily). No, says Quentin, I'm afraid you're losing your mind--what will you do with the gun? I have business with it, says Edward, but refuses to tell him--I thought we had decided that each of us should look after our own interests. Yes, says Q, but I don't understand what interest involves a gun. I'm preparing for the moment Barnabas Collins will be destroyed, but I don't like my victims too near the house, and Beth Chavez is a little too near. "Beth?" asks Quentin. He has her in his thrall, says Edward, she told me herself. Quentin refuses to believe this. Ask her yourself, suggests Edward--I'm surprised you don't know what's been happening; perhaps you've been too busy minding my business! Quentin, absolutely stunned, runs from the room.
Quentin pounds on Beth's door--I must talk to you--I know you[re in there. He comes in without invitation, and finds her lying on the bed. I know what's happened, he says--don't try to deny it. She sits up and says, I'm not denying anything. How can you claim to love me and at the same time be going to HIM?--look at me! She doesn't. "You know how much I need you," says Quentin. I must go to him, says Beth. "NO!" says Q, grabbing her arm--"No more!" She slips from his grasp and leaves. Edward enters, and realizing what has happened, calls Quentin a fool--didn't you see the state that girl was in?--she needed to be locked up, but you, who supposedly loves her, let her out. I had to speak to her, insists Quentin. What did you have to find out? demands Edward--that it's possible for a woman to love some man other than you? (ouch!) Get out of my way, Edward! shouts Quentin, heading for the door, "I've got business with Barnabas!" And off he goes.
Beth calls to Barnabas (it appears they are on the docks). What do you want? He asks. I had to come to you, she explains. Why? he asks--why did you come here? "I had to see you," she says. He turns away. Don't turn away from me, she begs. "Leave her alone," orders Quentin, appearing right near them. Barnabas asks Quentin, what are you doing here? I want to know what BETH is doing here, counters Quentin. Barnabas claims, I don't know. Don't you? asks Q, I don't believe that--"She admitted to me that. . ." ". . .that she and I were closer than you knew?" finishes Barnabas--"Well it's true, it was true, but true no longer--I know what I am, Quentin, I know what I need, I despise all of it, and I despise myself more knowing what she meant to you."
He looks ashamed. Why did she come to you tonight? asks Quentin. I don't know, says Barn--I didn't call her.
Jamison stands in the drawing room. Edward comes in. Dr. Brooks said you were fine, he tells his son--I think we were just a little overexcited, but all will be well. He isn't a very good doctor, says Jamison, he examined me for over an hour and didn't notice I only had one hand. Edward begs him--the doctor says you're all right, you have a hand--take off the gloves. No, insists Jamison, I have no hand. Take off the gloves, or I'll use force! warns Edward. He grabs Jamison's hand--which comes off! "I told you, no hand, I told you!" sobs Jamison.
Edward stares at it in horror. What's happened? cries Edward. Jamison cradles the arm close to his body--I'm frightened, he says. Don't be, urges Edward--I'm here, and everything will be all right, I'll take care of you, look after you, don't be scared. "I love you, Father," and kisses him. Edward stands, stunned. Jamison grabs the hand away from his father and walks upstairs.
Quentin returns to find Edward standing in the drawing room, and asks what he's doing. "Sir," says Edward, "I'm a stranger in these parts, but certainly, in a great house like this, there's something for an honest man to do, especially one who's willing to do anything. Oh it's a lovely house--what's it called?"
Quentin stares at his brother, his brow furrowed. What's this?
NOTES: Some really fine performances today, by everyone. You could feel Quentin's rage and grief over the realization that his brother sent his children away, and now one of them has died. It's so tragic, and Edward's implacability combined with Quentin's vulnerability was amazing to watch.
Why did Jamison/Petofi send Beth to Barnabas? Just to rile up the family? Put a wedge between the cousins? And what made him turn Edward into a servile man? Could this be Edward's hidden self? What does Petofi intend to do, ultimately? Love that kiss, it's deadly in more ways than one!
Great show, folks!
804 - Edward, behaving oddly, lifts a figurine and admires it--I appreciates beautiful things, he says--I worked in a very fine home, the Earl of Hampshire's. Quentin calls his name. Yes, says Edward--the Early of Hampshire's name was Edward. Have you been drinking? Asks Q. The "servant" replies, I never drink during working hours. (Priceless expression on Selby's face.) No, of course you don't, says Q--sit down. Edward seems reluctant, but Quentin assures him it's all right--when I told you there was something wrong with Jamison, you wouldn't listen to me, but now you must. Edward assures "sir", I am listening. Quentin orders, don't call me sir! But I must, says Edward, I know my place! This is YOUR place, objects Quentin, you are Edward Collins, you live here, this is your home--now, tell me who you are. Edward Collins, agrees Edward, the Earl of Hampshire's gentleman, Edward! Quentin looks defeated. Edward rises to anticipate Quentin's desire for a brandy. Servant Eddie pours a drink. Jamison comes in, grinning, commenting to Quentin, Edward IS a gem, isn't he? Q demands, why are you doing this to us? My first instinct about you was right, says Jamison--you are that rare man who faces the truth, you don't try to pretend I'm Jamison gone mad, because you know better. He walks over to Edward and says, the servants' quarters are under the staircase--you can go now. Stay where you are! Quentin orders Edward, I'll handle this--Jamison, go to bed. The latter comments, "So you do have some family loyalty." Laughing at the thought, the "boy" tells him good night. Some servants don't like working where there are children, remarks Edward, "but I think they brighten a home." Charity enters and is about to leave, but Q stops her, explaining, Edward is sick. I'm in excellent health, sir, protests Edward. Pour us brandy, Quentin says--he thinks he's a servant, rather than Edward Collins. This shocks Charity. Shouldn't we call a doctor? she asks. No, he must be kept safe until he finds himself, says Quentin.
Jamison answers the door to Charles Delaware Tate, who says Jamison Collins has summoned me. (more Roger Davis, we are SO blessed!) Please don't be alarmed by my appearance, the child says, I'm the very person you know well--come into the drawing room so we can get started on our business. The noted painter, pursued by rich women and beautiful girls, all hoping to be captured on one of his "immortal" canvas, chortles Jamison--"Well I know what a busy man you are, so lets get down to business." I came the moment Aristede (and he mispronounces it, making the last E long), came for me, says Tate.
Jamison gives him a photo of Quentin Collins--the subject of your next painting--he doesn't know you're painting his portrait, says Jamison, but he will, he says, grinning.
Charity and Quentin lead Edward to the tower room. I thought the servants' quarters were under the stairs, says Edward. I prefer you in here, says Quentin. Oh, very good, sir, says Edward, winningly entering the tower room. The "servant" cries out when Quentin locks the door, protesting, "You can't lock me up! You can't!"--I can't do my job if locked up, and will do it no matter what! Quentin smiles grimly at Charity and says, we will all need each other if we can fight the fiend. Mr. Fenn Gibbons seemed like such a cultured man, remarks Charity. Q laughs. Don't laugh at me, she says. We will all be exposed for what we really are, he says, and there's nothing we can do about it. Yes, there is, she insists, we can pray. Quentin laughs--pray, huh? Now you are laughing at me, she says--unworthy of the real Quentin Collins; very few people know you, but I do, says Charity, smiling, what you're really like--sometimes I even knows what you're going to say before you say it. She moves closer to him and says, "You're going to say, ...Charity, let's go back to the drawing room and have a brandy."' You're wrong, he says, I was going to say thank you, Miss Trask, and good night--I have to go somewhere right now. She demands to know, who are you going to see?--I know you're going into town to see some SLUT (such language, Charity!), and I even know why--because I am too much of a lady for Quentin Collins!
She slaps him across the face, and to his credit, he looks ashamed.
Quentin goes to his room and finds Barnabas waiting in the shadows. Did you send for the child? Asks Barnabas. Yes, says Quentin, although I find it hard to think of him as a child. We must not lose sight of the fact that the mind is possessed by Petofi, says Barn, we must find a way to return the body to its rightful owner--and they must act quickly, before everything is changed irrevocably. If only they can, says Q. Barnabas lifts a picture off the mantel and asks who it is. Don't you recognize her? asks Quentin. She looks familiar, says Barn. It's Jenny, he says, just before we were married. She was very beautiful, says Barn. I went to my son's grave yesterday, says Quentin, in the woods near Saunders. He was buried in the woods? asks Barn, with the pentagram? Yes, says Q sadly, for all the good it will do him now--then I came home, looked for this photograph--my little girl looks like her mother. Jamison knocks and enters. I wanted to see you, says Quentin. Barnabas adds, "We both wanted to see you, Jamison." The child whirls around--Cousin Barnabas, I missed you, he says. I missed you, too, says Barn--listen--we all love you a great deal, and whatever must be done, we will do, but you must fight too, Jamison. You're taking a great risk being here now, says Jamison, even though you have the talent of appearing and disappearing at will. I had to be here, says Barnabas, "To meet you, Count Petofi.". Jamison smiles--oh, another realist, he says, that does please me. We don't have the hand, says Barnabas. "But you will get it," says Jamison, "as soon as I make matters difficult for you--because that hand is mine, and I have every right to it! "You have no right to possess Jamison Collins!" cries Barnabas. Charity, about to knock at Quentin's door, overhears Barnabas telling Jamison, look into my eyes and no where else; let everything else fade away, let nothing remain but you and me. "Barnabas," mutters Charity. She covers her mouth with horror and flees. Barnabas tries to hypnotize Jamison, ordering him, tell me who you are. Jamison laughs--I'd like to say Jamison Collins, for you, because I know how important it is to you, but I'm sorry, I can't, I'm very honest and don't believe in such things. He excuses himself; it's getting close to my bedtime. He leaves. This is terrible, says Quentin. Barn agrees--I've never seen anyone possessed quite like that. What can we do? asks Q. Change our tactics, advises Barn, considering what we've done so far has only amused the Count--I have another plan, this time he won't be quite so amused, predicts Barnabas.
On the phone, Charity is asking to speak to the Rushmore Sanitarium immediately--it's an emergency--I need to reach my father there at once, it's in Portland--call me right back. She hangs up, dejected. Jamison joins her. Are you feeling all right? she asks him. Sure, he says. Quentin said you weren't feeling well, says Charity. Jamison, vastly amused, says I'm fine. I should know better than to believe Quentin, she says. You're pretty, he says, startling her. He repeats it and says, I'm glad you came to live with us--then kisses her cheek--so very glad. Her face takes on a strange look. He smiles. The phone rings; she turns to answer it. Pansy Faye's music begins to tinkle in the background. Charity starts to swivel her hips and sway her derriere. She picks up the phone and answers in a Cockney accent. Who? Where? She asks, dropping her H's. She says sorry, luv, there must be a mistake--I don't know a soul in Portland! Jamison grins.
Quentin finds Tate sketching in the drawing room by the fire and asks, who are you? Tate introduces himself. Quentin admits, I've heard of you--and I'm surprised to see you--what are you doing here? Working, says Tate, I spent the last few hours sketching you.--I'm going to do a full length portrait of you, says Tate, someone commissioned me to do it. Who? asks Q. Tate shows Quentin the letter from Edith Collins commissioning the portrait. My grandmother Edith is dead, says Quentin. I'm sorry to hear that, says Tate, when did it happen? Quite a while ago, says Q. To think the good lady is dead and I'm just now getting around to doing what she wanted, says Tate--you have a very interesting face--I'll enjoy doing your portrait. I don't want a portrait done, says Quentin--perhaps Grandmother did, but she's dead, so there's no reason to do it. I accepted money, says Tate, so I--there are quite a few people who would enjoy having me do their portrait. Paint them, not me, advises Quentin. You'll change your mind when you see the portrait, predicts Tate--I'll be staying... I'm not going to change my mind, insists Q--move on your way--and ushers him toward the door--right now! He almost shoves Tate out the door and assures him--I do appreciate the honor. Charity, one of Pansy Faye's loud red shawls around her person, comes downstairs, humming the lady's theme song. Quentin stares at her as she parades downstairs, laughing, then bursts into "I Wanna Dance For You." She gives Quentin the old butt-bump when she sings "ta ra ra boom de ay," then a few crotch tosses for good measure.
Quentin watches in disbelief, bowing his head once. He finally stops the show, asking, what's wrong with you? She laughs and asks--if you liked me before--do you now?--I might not be a lady, but I've got other virtues! She swings her hips provocatively, harping on the "virtues". Come into the drawing room, orders Quentin. She does, still humming. I want you to sit down, insists Quentin. YOU should sit down, says Charity--I will entertain you--mind reading, clairvoyance, spiritual miracles, those are my talents! She puts a hand to her forehead to look into his mind. . .your mind, Quentin Collins, and what do I see? What? What? Oh, what I see is Carl! Carl Collins is dead because of you! You helped kill your brother! He stares at her. Jamison enters and applauds. Charity, back to herself, rubs her face and asks, what happened?--what am I doing here, like this? Upset, she starts taking down her hair and says, I want to go to my room. Quentin offers to help her. "YOU?" she cries, scandalized. After she admits to needing his assistance, he helps her stumble to the stairs. Jamison opens a little black book. "Some have faced their moment of truth," he says aloud to himself, "for others, the moment is yet to come! Edward Collins, servant; Beth Chavez, in bondage to the vampire, waiting to hear him call her; Gregory Trask, Magda Rakosi, Evan Hanley, Charity Trask--slattern, who wants to sing and dance and show her painted face to the world. A fine lot, all of you!" He laughs.
He turns and finds Barnabas standing there. "You will come with me, no noise, no protests," he tells the boy. He covers Jamison's mouth with his hand and drags him, struggling, through the secret panel.
NOTES: Selby turned in another superb performance in this episode. Everything is crashing down around him, and his facial expressions are marvelous. I also had to laugh at Barnabas' brute force when it came to Jamison, but since they are dealing with a highly intelligent being who has lived a long time, it made sense for Barnabas to kidnap the child, the body, since it was surely weaker than his own! Of course, Nancy Barrett's little turn as Pansy Faye was a hoot, with that trashy accent and body language, and she did such a wonderful job of totally messing with Quentin's head. To watch her turn from the prim Charity, who is still attempting a relationship with the totally-wrong-for-her Quentin, into the "slattern", Pansy Faye, was astonishing, funny and creepy, too. Of course, Petofi saved Barnabas' butt, too, because if she had answered that ringing phone as Charity, rather than Pansy, she would have reached her father and told him Barnabas was at Collinwood. Edward, as the gentleman's gentleman, is a riot, too, and pathetic as well. What does Petofi/Jamison have planned for all the others? We have Roger Davis in yet another role, rather bland, or so it seems, but CDT has some fascinating abilities beyond those of a normal artist. Great episode all around.
Love, Robin
