01x02 - Séance

Episode transcripts for the 2014 TV show "Penny Dreadful". Aired May 11, 2014 - June 19, 2016.*
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Explorer Sir Malcolm Murray, American gunslinger Ethan Chandler, and others unite to combat supernatural threats in Victorian London.
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01x02 - Séance

Post by bunniefuu »

Previously on Penny Dreadful...

Ethan: What might I do for you?


Vanessa: I have a need for a gentleman

who's not hesitant to engage in dangerous endeavors.

Sir Malcolm: This is the individual?

Vanessa: Yes.

Sir Malcolm: We're looking for someone.

Do not be amazed at anything you see.


(Snarling growl)

(Low growl, g*nshots blast)

(Ethan screams, wood smashes)

(Sword strikes)

Sir Malcolm: It's not her.

Vanessa: She's not here.


Sir Malcolm: Is there another creature like that?

Ethan: Tell me what this is all about?

Vanessa: Sir Malcolm's daughter was taken by a creature such as the one we k*lled.

Sir Malcolm: To save her, I would m*rder the world.

Sir Malcolm: Join me, Doctor.

Frankenstein: Why me?

Sir Malcolm: Because you were unafraid to pull back the skin

and look beneath.

Frankenstein: Hold on, what's this?

Lyle: The source of the writing, it's from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.

Frankenstein: The body you bought was not human.

Frankenstein: Are there more?

Sir Malcolm: At least one.

You seem to be a free thinker who might imagine a world where science and superstition walk hand in hand.

(Loud thunderclap, heavy sigh)

Frankenstein: My name is Victor Frankenstein.

(Shrill, terrified scream)

Galsworthy: Carnage. It's like a b*ttlefield.

Woman: Damn him that did it. Right to hell.

(Shivering breaths)

(Cat meows nearby)

(Rubs and blows)

(Paper rustles)

(Shivered exhale)

(Loud metallic clang)

(Soft metallic clanking, owl hoots)

(Soft metallic clanking, approaching footsteps)

(Shivered exhale)

(Nervous, shallow exhale)

(Soft metallic clanking, flame crackles)

(Sharp whoosh, loud metallic clank)

Woman: (Shaky, frightened breaths)

(Low, monotone music throbs)

(Shaky, frightened breaths)

(Terrified whimpers)

(Terrified shriek, blood spatters)

(gasps awake, groaning and gasping in pain)

Man 1: Take the topsail down!

Man 2: Wait for the next tide!


(Gasps in pain)

(Men yell from the ships)

(Rats squeak, seagulls cry overhead)

(Wind blows fiercely, waves lap nearby)

(Low hum of chatter from the wharf)


(Seagulls cry, rats squeak, man yells)

(Men yell)

(Man groans)

(Door creaks shut)

(Bottles clank, low hum of chatter)

Ethan: (Clears his throat)

One of those nights, has it been?

Do you have any whiskey?

The more pertinent question might be as follows: Do you have money?

(Slaps money down)

Barkeep: Much as you like, friend.

(Cork squeaks loose, whiskey sloshes)

(Items thump on table)

(Pen nib rasps)

(Chewing deliberately)

(Swallowing loudly)

(Grunts)

(Chewing deliberately, grunts)

We should give you a name.

You're a form of new mankind, so... perhaps Adam?

No.

Theological connotations aren't very "us" are they?

I know, you shall choose your own name.

My mother taught me many things.

Among the most useful, is one must always have Shakespeare close to hand.

(Heavy thump)

(Pages rustle)

Uuuuummmmm... (Light tap)

(Amused grunt, laughs)

Frankenstein: Um... (Light tap)

Creature: (Amused grunt)

Your turn.

(Books shuffles, pages rustle)

(Pages flip)

(Hard tap)

(Quietly) Proteus.

Proteus.

Proteus.

(Latches click closed, footsteps scuff the floor)

(Footsteps thump heavily)

(Proteus grunts)

Frankenstein: No. I'm sorry, I... I have to leave you now.

I won't be long.

I have an appointment to make some money.

After all, I have two mouths to feed now.

No, no, you stay.

I'll be back presently.

Mm... P... Proteus. Mm...

Shh... shh... it's all right.

I'll be here again before you know it.

(Footsteps thud heavily)

(Latch clicks, door bangs shut)

(Metallic rattling, heavy, dull thud)

(Locks latch)


(Whimpers softly)

(Whimpers softly)

(Door clicks open, then shuts)

(Low hum of chatter)

Man: Good evening. Can I help you?


(Footsteps thud heavily)

(Low hum of chatter and laughter)

(Glass thunks on bar, swallows audibly)

(Exhales slowly)

(Glass clinks, whiskey sloshes)

Ethan: Well, nice to meet you too.

Woman: And you.

(Gasps) What happened to your hand?

Ethan: Long story.

Lucky it's early.

Challenging night.

Aren't you mysterious?

Other than the damnable g*dd*mn sailors, we don't get your kind in here much.

(Sighs) You mean Americans?

That'll serve.

I was employed here in the entertainment business.

Jesus, you're not actor are you?

Not precisely.

Woman: Praise the lord for that. I knew an actor once.

Always sucking up the oxygen from the room, he was.

I was ever faint.

Are you still in the theater?

Ethan: I don't think so.

Woman: What trade do you have then?

Well, I could sh**t the ace out of a playing card at fifty paces.

Well, that'll come in useful, I'm sure.

You'd be surprised.

Not much surprises me.

I see you live here, I take it?

Upstairs. It's palatial.

You been in London long?

A couple of years.

I came in search of those green pastures you hear tell about.

I tried it in the looming trade but it's all industrial now with the big machines.

I worked over in a factory in Shoreditch, but 'twas a dispiriting endeavor.

One by one, we were all replaced by better new machines.

It's no harm.

There is always a way to make a living when you've a bit of flesh, isn't there?

I couldn't say.

I'll bet you could.

(Coughs violently)

Me lungs are buggered. (Clears throat)

I'd like to say it was from the dire working conditions of the factory.

It's more likely God being a right playful fucker.

I'm Ethan Chandler.

Brona Croft.

Brona?

It's Gaelic.

What does it mean?

Sadness.

(Flirtatus laughter)

Thank you for the breakfast, Mr. Chandler.

Properly fortified.

I'm off to look for work that a machine can't do... yet anyway.

(Door opens and creaks shut)

You have any rooms available?

(Pen nib rasps)

(Doorknob rattles, clicks opens)

Sir Malcolm: He's here.

Unbutton the top of your dress.

(Paper rustles, lock clicks)

Sir Malcolm: Doctor Frankenstein, thank you for coming.

You remember Miss Ives?

Frankenstein: How do you do?

Vanessa: Doctor.

Sir Malcolm: This way.

(Footsteps thump down stairs)

Sir Malcolm: And how go your researches, Doctor?

Frankenstein: Oh! I would say distinctly promising. (Laughs)

Vanessa: You are unusually jovial, sir.

Frankenstein: The caprices of science, Miss Ives.

God.

How did you remove the skin?

Carrion beetles.

Frankenstein: Essex?

Vanessa: Suffolk.

Frankenstein: Fair enough.

It won't last forever, so let's get to it.

Frankenstein: Blood, you say?

Sir Malcolm: If you would.

Frankenstein: Have you translated the hieroglyphics?

Sir Malcolm: I went about it.

They're apparently from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.

Frankenstein: Ah.

Sir Malcolm: Do you know it?


Not intimately, but I've studied theology over the years.

The Ancient Egyptian religions were unique in a way.

They had a singular goal.

Not transmutation to an afterlife,
but something even more profound: Eternal life.

But I'm no expert.

Sir Malcolm: Well, we're seeing a specialist, Friday in fact.

I'll let you know what we discover.

Frankenstein: Oh, that won't be necessary. I'm only a dabbler.

Vanessa: Romantic poetry, Doctor?

Man does not live only in the empirical world.

We must seek the ephemeral or why live?

Vanessa: "If this belief from heaven be sent, if such be nature's holy plan... "

"Have I not reason to lament... "

(In unison) "What man has made of man."

Frankenstein: Well, I can confirm that it's human blood, or at least vertebrate.

It has the standard erythrocytes and thrombocytes.

The more unusual properties are beyond my expertise.

You'll want to speak to a hematologist.

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

I'm not sure that I have the time. My own work...

Sir Malcolm: No, you will.

Your remittance. I hope it's satisfactory.


Frankenstein: I'm sure it will be.

Good afternoon, Sir Malcolm. Miss Ives.

Oh! If you discover anything pertinent in the hieroglyphics, let me know.

Vanessa: Or even something ephemeral.

(Feigned laugh)

What was all that poetry?

Our young doctor has a secret.

(Carriage rattles, hooves clop)

(Clock chimes, people chatter)

Man 1: I'm thinking I may have to look elsewhere.

Man 2: A line has to be drawn.

Man 1: Well, I can only apologize.

Woman: Perhaps you can help me with somebody else.

Man 3: I'll see what I can do.


(Doorbell rings, door closes loudly)

(Operatic music plays nearby)

(Footsteps clack lightly)

(Operatic music plays)

(Footsteps clack lightly)

Young man: Thank you so much for coming.

(Shy sigh)

My name is Dorian Gray.

(Ringing, low hum of chatter)

(Papers rustle)

(Sharp knock, door opens)

Sergeant: Inspector, Sir Malcolm Murray is outside.

Well, show him in.

(Low hum of chatter outside, repeated ringing)

Sir Malcolm, how do you do? Sit down.

Inspector Galsworthy, pleasure to meet you.

This is my man, Sembene.

How may I be of service?

I wish to know more about the Spitalfields' murders.

Galsworthy: So do many people.

I'm not "many people."

Nonetheless, our investigations are private.

A couple m*rder*d on the street in hackney a month ago, then a family slaughtered in the heart of the Metropolis.

You need all the help I can give you.

Can you help?

Sir Malcolm: Are these from Spitalfields?

Uh, they're not for the faint-hearted.

Sir Malcolm: My hearts never fainted.

Galsworthy: They were Welsh, in the vegetable trade, mother and daughter.

Not an enemy in the world that we know of.

He took an arm and... some of the internal organs.


Which organs?

Liver, kidney, and some of the reproductive matters.

And you have no suspects?

A hundred, and none.

Now that the newspapers and penny dreadfuls have taken it up, we have lunatics coming out of the woodwork to confess.

Every man-jack in the east end pointing the finger at everyone else.

Sir Malcolm: Were they drained of blood?

Galsworthy: Excuse me?


Were they drained of blood?

No.

How old was she, the daughter?

Seven.

What was her name?

Charlotte.

Sir Malcolm: Charlotte.

Is it the Ripper, back again?

Galsworthy: Unlikely. He only did whores.

Sir Malcolm: When the next one occurs,

I shall need to see the crime scene immediately.

Galsworthy: Will there be a next time?

Assuredly.

Thank you for your time, Inspector.

When I have information to share with you,


I promise I shall.

I'll tell you one thing though, and you can take it to heart, if you don't change your tactics, you'll never stop him.

You see, you're hunting for a man; you need to start hunting for a beast.

(Classical music plays, flash-lamp explodes)

(Flash-lamp explodes)

(Sighs deeply)

(Flash-lamp explodes)

Dorian: Would you remove your corset, Miss Croft?

(Corset snaps apart)

(Coughs suddenly)

Dorian: There's blood.

Is it consumption?

Shall I go, sir?

Dorian: Not unless you want to.

May I?

Sir, you shouldn't.

I don't know the word.

I mean, my sickness, sir.

(Licking)

Expose your plates, Mr. Frawley.

You don't mind?

No.

(Flash-lamp explodes)

(Classical music plays)

(Sighs of pleasure)

(Passionate gasps)

(Passionate gasps)

(Passionate gasps)

(Classical music swells)

(Grunting and gasping)

(Grunting and gasping)

(Grunting and moaning)

I've never f*cked a dying creature before.

Do you feel things more deeply, I wonder?

Do you feel pain?

Brona: Do you?

Dorian: Find out.

(Nail scrapes, Dorian grunts in pain)

(Flash-lamp explodes)

(Passionate gasps and groans, classical music swells)

(Grunting)

(Brona coughs)

(Flash-lamp explodes, classical music plays loudly)

(Clicking, sharp rip)

(Low hum of chatter)

Telegraph clerk: Excellent. Stamp this for me, will you?

Cable for you, sir.

(Pen nib rasps)

Ethan: (Reading) "Ethan, it's time for you to come home.

You can't run away forever.

I can handle your legal problems.

The Federal Marshall has been paid.

Stop your foolishness and do as I instruct.

Your father."


(Pencil rasps lightly)

♪ oh, the times wuz hard and the wages low ♪
♪ leave her, Johnny, leave her ♪
♪ but now once more, ashore we'll go ♪
♪ and it's time for us to leave her... ♪

(books thump)

Frankenstein: Do you recognize that?

Proteus: (Tapping) Boa...

Frankenstein: Boat.

Proteus: Boat.

Boat.

(Pencil rasps)

(Tapping vigorously)

Do you recognize that? That animal?

Whale.

Yes, it's a whale. A sea creature.

Whale.

Whale. Hunting.

(Sighs and sniffs sadly)

It's all right. Shhh... calm down.

(Shaky, emotional breaths)

Did you... did you k*ll a whale?

You know the word.

Proteus: Proteus...

Frankenstein: Perhaps this was your trade.


You could've been a whaler as I am a doctor.

You needn't feel ashamed of that.

k*ll.

Yes, I know.

As you grow up, you'll learn we all do things which cause us shame.

Sins we have committed.

(Water pours)

Thank you, Proteus.

Victor.

♪... Leave her ♪
♪ but now once more ashore we'll go ♪
♪ and it's time for us to leave her ♪

(carriage rattles, hooves clop)

(Violin music drifts outside)

(Horse whinnies)

(Low hum of chatter)

Lyle: Sir Malcolm!

Sir Malcolm. Miss Ives.

I'm so glad you could attend.

Thank you for coming to my wee fête.

Thank you for having us.

Sir Malcolm: I have the additional photographs in my coach.

Lyle: How forthright he is.

Must have served him well in Darkest Africa.

Uh, my wife is somewhere about, close by the gin, I would hazard.

In the parlor, perhaps.

Sir Malcolm: Why don't you make an introduction?

Of course, Sir Malcolm.

Come along. Let's just stroll, see what wickedness we can find.
(Classical music plays, low hum of chatter)

(Guests converse)

Woman: (Laughs) Come!

(Glass clinks, woman giggles)


Woman 2: You're too sweet.

(Chatter fades out)

(Approaching footsteps)

My name is Dorian Gray.

Vanessa Ives.

It's a pleasure, Miss Ives.

I couldn't help but notice your skepticism.

Am I skeptical?

About the room.

Rather aggressive in the chinoiserie and geographically capricious to say the least.

In this one room, there's Japanese, Siamese, Egyptian, Balinese, and something I take to be last season's Panto of Aladdin.

Vanessa and Dorian: (Chuckle)

Are you a friend of Mr. Lyle's?

Never met him before tonight.

It was more of a... random invitation.

Do you get many of those?

Entirely.

You could say "no."

I never say "no."

I wasn't skeptical about the room.

What then? Shall I guess?

Have on, Mr. Gray.

You do not belong here.

Even less than I.

You are not frivolous.

Your eye is careful and appraising.

This is not a careful room, although there is much to appraise.

That can divert you for only so long.

You do not like it here. You are closed to it.

Yet... you're the only woman in this house not wearing gloves.

Your hands want to touch,
but your head wants to appraise.

Your heart is torn between the two.

You were skeptical because you thought...

This was going to be a wasted evening, but now you're not so sure.

Lyle: Ladies and gentlemen, your attention please.

(Clapping) Your attention pl... please, you must pay attention to me.

My friends, our guest of honor has arrived.

May I present the renowned... Madame Kali!

(Polite applause)

Lyle: So come along, come along around the table.

Those of you without fear, we need at least eight people of courage.


Well done, well done, well done.

Excellent! Sit.

Sir Malcolm, take a seat. Splendid.

Sit. Sit.

(Low hum of intrigued chatter)

(Guests whisper)

Gentlemen, please remove your jewelry.

What's going on?

Madame Kali: Ladies, please remove your gloves.

Vanessa: I believe we're about to commune with the spirits.

(Jewelry clinks, guests whisper)

Man: This is such fun.

Madame Kali: Please... join hands.

Man: Join hands...

(Guest exhales heavily)

Madame Kali: I ask forbearance.

I ask you to suspend your disbelief and imagine your minds floating in the darkness of time.

Let your imaginations be liberate and roam with me back in time to the ancient seas.

Back in time to the time before when the spirits walked, when the sun was new and the old gods walked.

I call forth Mut, mother goddess.

I call to the speakers of the dead.


Come to me, come to me.

(Vicious snarl)

(Startled gasps and whispers)

Madame Kali: (Groans)

(Speaking slowly and deeply) What summoned me?

I speak for the dead.


For the undying.

(Exhales nervously)

There's another here.

(Confused whispers)

(Breathing heavily)

There's... another... here.

Woman: What does she mean?

Amunet...

Amunet...

Amunet. (Hisses)

Amunet. Serpent. Hidden one.

Know your master. Your lover. Your master.


(Growls, choking gasps)

(Grunting)

(Struggling grunts)

(Gasping)

(Sighs, breathing hard)

(Moans)

(Speaking Lingala in a low voice)

Father.

(In a boy's voice) Father, mine, let me come with you.

What a ripping time we'll have.

Let me come with you. It'll be an adventure.

You'll teach me!

I'll prove myself a proper explorer.

Peter loves you, Father.

(Shaky, frightened breaths)

(Panicked breaths)

But Father, if the porters go, how are we to survive?

I'm not frightened, I'm not.

What an adventure. It's so green, so beautiful.

But the porters are dying and I can't go on, I'm sick.

Is it the dysentery?

I'm bleeding.

Oh God, I'm bleeding. I'm sh1tting blood now.

I have no more clean trousers. I'm sorry.

I'll stay at base camp. You go. Leave me.

Will you name a mountain after me?


Are you proud of me?

(Roars) Go!

(Flames whoosh, guests gasp in fear)

(Gasps) Goodbye.

I'll see you soon, Father.

Father.

Sir Malcolm: (Emotional breath)

Cold.

♪ close the window, my true love ♪
♪ and gently drops the rain ♪
♪ I have never had but one true love... ♪

I am... weak.

(Chokes and gasps) Can't feel my hands.

There's no water.

(Croaks) I can't swallow.

You knew I was dying... didn't you, Father?

(Shaky breath)

Did you name a mountain after me?

(Exhales slowly as though dying)

(Sniffs softly)

(Deep emotional exhale)

(Forceful sniff, guests gasp in fright)

(Low growling)

Woman: Oh!

(Low growling builds to a hiss)

Amunet, girl? No, much older.

(Glass cracks and shatters, guests scream, terrified)

(Doors slam shut, high-pitched scream)

Father, Mina's waiting.

(Demonic voice) No!

Shhh...

(Sensual moan) I wonder...

I wonder when was the moment you knew you wanted to f*ck her?

Why were you not more discrete?

Vanessa heard you. The two of you.

She heard you f*cking and she was curious.

She walked closer, she rounded the corner and discovered you, the two of you, you know, f*cking. f*cking her c**t.

(Seething inhale)

Vanessa saw that.

(Chair crashes) f*cking animal.

You man. You animal.

(Candles clatter) You man. You animal.

Betrayer! Creature!

I look into his eyes and they are red with blood like from Peter's ass.

His lips are red like blood from her c**t when you f*cked her.

His teeth are sharp like yours when you bit her c**t and it's so cold and dark and wet like the jungle.

Like tears, I am crying. I am so afraid, Father.

Find me! Find me! Save me! Save me!

(Chanting in Lingala, bones cr*ck)

(Guests scream in terror)

(Frightened gasp)

(High-pitched ululation, guests scream in terror)

(High-pitched scream)

(Doors burst open, women scream)

(Thunder rumbles, rain pours down)

(Dog barks in the distance)

(Bell tolls)

(Rain pours down)

Man: (Groans softly)

(Shirt rips, Vanessa grunts forcefully)



(moaning and gasping)

(Grunting and moaning)

(Thunder rumbles)

(Moaning and grunting)

(Grunting and gasping)

(Rain patters heavily)



(Vanessa moans and grunts in the distance)

(Thunder rumbles, rain pours down)

(Carriage rattles, hooves clop)

(Door creaks open, rain patters outside)

(Door clicks shut)

(Footsteps thud heavily)

(Sighs heavily)

(Thunder rumbles)

(Weary sigh)

(Footsteps scuff the floor)

(Doorknob clicks, door creaks open)

(Footsteps scuff the floor)

(Thunder rumbles)

(Retreating footsteps)

(Seagulls cry, low hum of chatter)

(Slurps)

(Pensive exhale)

(Approaching footsteps)

(Bell clangs, steam whistle blows)

Ethan: Breakfast, Miss Croft?

Brona: Our usual repast?

(Inhales sharply) I won't say "no."

And call me Brona, will ya?

The way you say that is ridiculous.

"Mizz Croft."

There's no "Z" in it. Just being laconic, I suppose.

Ethan: Oh, like all Americans.

Brona: Precisely.

So how goes the job hunt?

Employment on your feet is hard to come by.

I've found a bit of a sideline though.

Photographic subject, don't you know.

For the calendars and such?

Brona: If you keep your calendar in a whorehouse.

The pictures are a tad risque. What will the bishop think?

And what about you?

Don't you need to be pursuing work?

I have work. I am a maritime supervisor.

I sit here and make sure all the boats get past okay.

Almost had a collision last night.

It was thrilling.

Ethan: You eaten?

Brona: (Laughs) No.

Ethan: Let me buy us some real breakfast.

(Laughs and gulps)

I've got to sleep, but thanks.

Ethan: Well, how about dinner tonight?

Brona: You're not mistaking me for a sweet little debutante at the summer fair, are you?

That kind never did take my interest.

Brona: Oh, you like things back-alley.

I like things to be what they are.

Then dinner it is. Anywhere but here.

Well, I don't know London much.

I do.

(Hooves clop, carriage rattles)

(Horse whinnies)

(Door opens)

(Door closes heavily)

I'm not asking her back.

Although she put Madame Kali to shame, I must say.

It was a riveting performance.

The dilettantes among the company were outraged, but if one is to engage with the primordial forces of darkness, one must expect a bit of... social awkwardness.

Although the language... tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk!

Sir Malcolm: My apologies.

My wife... mortified, although the gin helped.

All right, then, let me see them.

Yes, these are the three I've seen.

You have had some of this translated, haven't you?

Sir Malcolm: No.

Lyle: No?

Lyle: This figure, the snake-headed one, that's Amunet, who performed a spectacular star turn last night.

Who is she?

Lyle: A goddess: "The Hidden One."

Sir Malcolm: Why "The Hidden One"?

Lyle: Because despite her outward divinity, she had a monster within her, not unlike your Miss Ives.


(Photograph rustles)

This is new.

Sir Malcolm: What do you mean?

Lyle: This hasn't been seen before by anyone.


Sir Malcolm: How do you know?

Lyle: Because it's impossible.

Is there more of this? More pictures?

Sir Malcolm: Yes.

Lyle: I'm going to ask you to do something.

Wherever you came across this, whatever your interest, whatever need... you think you have, you must forget you ever saw it.

First, you tell me why.

Amunet was the consort of Amun-Ra, one of the great gods.

He was the first "Hidden One."

The original serpent prince.

So named not for any particular reptilian qualities, but for the power of rebirth; like a snake shedding its skin.

Everlasting, perpetual life...

Sustained by feeding on the souls of others.

Amunet and Amun-Ra never appear in the same incantation.

It is inconceivable in pharaonic religion to conjoin them; their narratives are kept completely separate.

Sir Malcolm: Why?

Mr. Lyle: Because...

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

All light would end and the world would live in darkness.

The hidden ones would emerge and rule.

Amunet-Amun-Ra conjoined.

This is a spell foretelling the annihilation of man and the coming of the beast.

I would not tell Miss Ives this.

After all, who wants to know they're hunted by the devil?

(Low, tense music)




Proteus: How long?

Victor, how long do we walk?

Long walk, yes? Victor, yes?

Everything in one day.


Frankenstein: One night.

It's coming to night now, not day.

Proteus: Night. Night. Yes, night.

Why are you slow?

Frankenstein: Now listen, Proteus.

This is your very first time outside of this room and it's all going to be very new to you, so... try to stay calm, yes?

Yes, Victor.

(Loud bang, door creaks open)

(Loud chatter and laughter in the street)

Proteus: (Frightened gasp)

(Panicked breaths)

Frankenstein: (Calming breaths)

Don't be frightened.

Here it is.

Proteus: (Slow, calming breaths)

Frankenstein: Everything.

(Street buzzes with chatter)

(Man sings nearby)

(Gasps)

(Men chatter loudly over one another)

Everything.

(Street buzzes with chatter, bell clangs)

(Boy calls out)

(Man calls out)

(Dog barks)

Proteus: (Gasps) Dog.

Frankenstein: Dog.

Proteus: Dog. Dog.

(Dog barks loudly)

Man: Spices! Spices from the Orient!

Frankenstein: Look at these.

(Man sings)

Proteus: A horse.

(Heartbeat pulses loudly)

Proteus: (Gasps) Warm.

Frankenstein: Hot. Hot-hot.

Proteus: Hot.

Frankenstein: No. No, thank you. No thank you.

Proteus: Hat.

Boy: Yeah.

Proteus: Hat? Hat!

Frankenstein: No. No-no-no.

Proteus: Hat.

(Boy gasps)

(Clanking, grinding, and slicing)



(vendor cries out)

(Chestnuts clatter)

Frankenstein: Chestnut.

Hmm?

Mmm... mmm...



(flame sputters)

Proteus: Fairy lights.

Frankenstein: What? No, that's something called gas lighting.

It's an invisible chemical, which means you can't see it.

It has combustible properties that produce flame, thus... illumination.


Victor, fairy lights.

(Amused) Who am I to argue?

Proteus: (Gasps excitedly)

(Seagulls cry overhead)

Proteus: (Grunts and gasps in awe)

(Horn bellows)

Proteus: Frigate!

(Horn bellows)

Man: (Shouts order)

Man 2: Aye aye!

Sloop.

Scow. Barque. Top sail. Bowline. Jib boom.

Wife.

What did you say?

Proteus: On the dock.

Wife.

Doreen.

Victor, what am I?

Tell me. Tell me.

Ethan: Doctor.

Frankenstein: Sir?

Ethan: You don't remember. We... met with sir Malcolm and Miss Ives where you work.

The American, of course. How do you do?

Ethan: Well, thanks. This is Miss Brona Croft.

Brona: Hello.

Frankenstein: Miss Croft.

(Clears throat)

Frankenstein: Uh... this is my friend, Mr. Proteus.

Ethan Chandler.

How do you do? My name is Mister Proteus.

Ethan: Oh, and this is Miss Croft.

Proteus: How do you do, Miss Croft? My name is Mister Proteus.

(Polite laugh)

Ethan: Fine evening, isn't it?

Frankenstein: Yes. Yes, very.

Enjoy the evening, Mr. Chandler. Miss Croft.

Proteus: Chestnut?

Thank you. That's very kind.

Enjoy the fairy lights.

I always do.

(Bell tolls)

Brona: What?

Ethan: Mm.

(Brona giggles)

(Man yells in the street)

(Keys jingle, locks unlatch)

Frankenstein: ... And what else?

Proteus: Then we saw the frigate and the sloop.

Oh, and the barque.


Then we met Mr. Ethan Chandler and Miss Brona Croft, our friends on the river...

Well, perhaps not friends, passing acquaintances, more like.

Why?

Frankenstein: Friends are something different.

They're people you've known for a while.

You're comfortable with, close to.

Like Victor.

(Smirks) Yes.

Proteus: Will I have many?

If you're lucky.

I shall have many. Ten.

More than ten if we... (Sharp s*ab)

(Horrified gasp)

(Bones cr*ck, flesh rips)

(Blood spatters and drips)

(Frightened breaths)

(Heavy gelatinous thump)

(Shocked gasps)

(Whimpering)

Your first born has returned... Father.
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