06x18 - Samantha's Secret Is Discovered

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Bewitched". Aired: September 17, 1964 - March 25, 1972.*
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Samantha falls in love with and marries Darrin Stephens only for him to find out that his new wife is one of a secret society of powerful witches and warlocks and that a twitch of her nose brings magic.
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06x18 - Samantha's Secret Is Discovered

Post by bunniefuu »

Yoo-hoo!

Mother, I'm sorry I'm late,
but the stores were jammed...

- Bonjour, Samantha.
- Mother!

I have had a tough day shopping.

Darrin is coming home early from work,
and I'd like to get dinner started.

So, if you don't mind,

I would like to have my old furniture back.

If you expect me to baby-sit,

it's going to have to be in the grand style
to which I am accustomed.

As far as Darrin and I are concerned,
our old furniture is grand enough.

Oh, Samantha. The Salvation Army
wouldn't even send a truck out for it.

Where is your breeding,
your culture, your upbringing, darling?

I still have those, Mother,
only my furniture is gone,

but not for long.

Oh, Samantha. I don't understand you.

You could be living in the lap of luxury
instead of on the bony knees of poverty.

I happen to like bony knees.

Oh, Samantha,
I'm still a guest in your home,

and happy surroundings
make a happy guest.

Mother, your baby-sitting chores are over,

and so is your horsing around
with my living room.

Mrs...

Mother, you know Darrin's mother.

Mrs Stephens. Mrs Stephens.

Mother, would you please get some water?

Why? She looks so peaceful.
It's a pity to disturb her.

Mother.

She's not sleeping. She fainted.
There's a big difference.

Here.

If you insist on bringing her around.

Oh, Samantha.

Here, have some water, Mrs Stephens.

My pills, my tranquiliser pills,
they're in my purse.

Mother, would you please
get Mrs Stephens' purse?

- Of course.
- I think the walk might do you good.

What a concerned daughter you are.

Always looking after my health.

The furniture, it's normal.

But it was all different.

And now it's back?

The furniture's back
and all's right with the world.

Here, have a tranquiliser.

You don't know
what I'm talking about, do you?

How could you?
I'm obviously losing my mind.

Oh, Mrs Stephens, that's crazy.

I mean, that's ridiculous.

You are one of the most solid,
realistic, well-adjusted people I know.

Here, have a tranquiliser.

Samantha,
I know you're trying to soothe me,

but let's face it,
there's nothing you can say, dear.

When the mind starts to go,
what can anyone say?

What about bon voyage?

Mother!

Mrs Stephens,
why don't you go upstairs and lie down?

- It might make you feel a little better.
- Oh, perhaps you're right.

I'd be less of a nuisance.

- Let me help you.
- No. No, thank you, dear.

You've... You've already done enough.

Yeah, more than enough.

Honey! Honey.

- Have I got great news.
- Not so loud.

Samantha, I just landed an account
I've been trying to get for six months.

Six months of badgering Larry to try
a new angle, and you know how I did it?

- I just...
- Darrin, your mother's here.

- How wonderful. I can tell you both.
- She's lying down.

You mean she's resting.

"Recuperating" might be a better word.

Recuperating from what?

Well, actually,
it's not as bad as you might expect.

Let me be the judge of that.

- I think you'd better sit down.
- I think so, too.

Darrin, your mother is perfectly fine.

It's just that she thinks
she's losing her mind.

Out with it, Sam. What happened?

Well, when I came back from shopping,
Mother had changed the furniture.

- You mean she moved it around.
- Not around, out,

and exchanged it with Louis XIV furniture.

My mother came in
and caught the Bobbsey twins at play.

- Now she thinks she's losing her mind.
- That's about it.

Terrific.

Darrin, to say I am sorry
is a masterpiece of understatement.

Not only that, it doesn't solve anything.

Well, there's only one solution.

- What's that?
- We'll have to tell your mother the truth.

Samantha, my mother
isn't losing her mind, you are.

- We have no other choice.
- Yes, we do.

But I don't know which one is better.

To let my mother go on thinking
she's losing her mind

or to tell her that her son
is married to a witch.

Oh, well, she'll take it all right.

You told me yourself you had an aunt
who thought she was a lighthouse.

- But, Sam, that isn't the same thing.
- Well, you bet it isn't.

When it's foggy,
I don't stand up on the roof and do this

to warn the ships at sea.

Yeah, she was kind of weird.

- Let's look at the bright side.
- You find it and I'll be glad to look at it.

Well, first, and most important,

is the relief
of not having to pretend any more.

After six years, the truth can be told.

Tell me more about the bright side.

Darrin, what else can we do?

As the wise man said,
"Honesty is the best policy."

I'll bet that wise man didn't have to tell
his mother his wife is a witch.

Frank! Is that you?

- Oh, it's you, Darrin.
- Hi, Mom. How do you feel?

I heard voices
and I thought it was your father.

I guess I can't even recognise
my own husband's voice any more.

I suppose Samantha
told you what happened.

Yes, she told me, all right.

Well, don't worry about me, Son.

I'll disappear quietly into oblivion,
and your father will be all right.

He's young. He can remarry,
even start a new family.

Wouldn't you like a baby brother?

Mom, you're talking nonsense.

Of course I'm talking nonsense.
My mind is gone.

Well, Mother, you're about to hear
something that's going to relieve you

- and shock you.
- Go ahead.

Shock treatment
may be just what I need right now.

It's all yours, Sam.

Well, Mrs Stephens,

the furniture
that you saw changing back and forth,

it actually did change.

Oh, Samantha, please,
we've been all through that.

No, no. No, we haven't been through
what I'm going to tell you.

It's a secret we should have
told you a long time ago.

- A secret?
- Yes.

It explains how you
happened to see the furniture change.

Yes.

I am a witch.

You're a what?

I'm a witch. So is my mother.

Oh, Samantha! That's ridiculous.

I'm not so sure about your mother.

No, you see, I really am a witch.

A cauldron-stirring, card-carrying witch.

And I have magic powers,
and I can make things move around.

Samantha, there's no such thing as witches.

Well, I guess I'll just have to prove it.

Darrin, would you like that ashtray?

Please.

It's magic.
It's all done with mirrors. It must be.

Well, how about this, Mrs Stephens?

Oh, that's awful!

I gave you that
for your last wedding anniversary.

Don't worry. I'll put it back together.

Samantha, you're a witch.

Now you're talking.

And the furniture really did change,

and you really did
make that ashtray fly through the room?

She did that, too.

Oh, that must be Frank.

Now, Mom, it's not necessary
to tell Dad about all this right now.

We'll find the right moment,
and then we'll spring it on him.

In the meantime,
it'll be our little secret, okay?

Okay.

Hi, Dad.

Darrin, I got the strangest call
from your mother.

She seems to think she's...

- Frank!
- Phyllis.

- I'm so glad to see you.
- Are you all right?

Oh, it's true, Frank.
I thought I was losing my mind but I'm not.

- Oh, of course you're not.
- I realised I was perfectly sane

once I found out Samantha is a witch.

- Samantha's a what?
- A witch. She's a witch.

Now, look, Phyllis,
you made me miss my pinochle game,

and I got a ticket racing over here.

I'm in no mood for jokes.

Samantha, go ahead, prove you're a witch.

Phyllis, you're talking
about our daughter-in-law.

Watch this.

Hey! That's the present we got them
for their last anniversary.

I know. You'll see, Frank.
Having a witch in the family will be fun.

If I break a vase, I'll just call Samantha
and she puts it back together again.

Go ahead, Sam.

One more time.

Phyllis, when you called me,
you told me you were losing your mind.

- You were right.
- I'm telling you, Frank.

I saw the vase fall and break and...
And she put it back together again.

And she made an ashtray
fly across the room.

Come along. Let's go see Dr Rhinehouse.

My coat.

A witch.

- Sam, what happened?
- I don't know.

Somebody's pulled the plug on my powers.

How do you feel?

Well, I feel fine.
I just don't understand what happened.

I just heard, Samantha.

It was the Witches' Council
that removed your powers.

- How dare they!
- How dare you!

Revealing yourself to mortals
could be disastrous.

How soon you forget
the b*ating we took at Salem.

But the Witches' Council doesn't have
any right to take away my powers.

They have the right to prevent you

from frivolously
flaunting yourself as a witch.

- Now you still have your powers.
- Wait a minute.

But not in front of mortals.

Durwood doesn't count.

How am I gonna convince Mrs Stephens
that she hasn't flipped?

Well, you can't show yourself as a witch, so
you'll have to come up with another idea.

But there is no other way.

As usual, Durwood,
you're a bottomless pit of ideas.

Now, tell me, Mrs Stephens,
what seems to be the trouble?


Dr Rhinehouse, I'm losing my mind.

And what else is bothering you?

Doctor, I don't think you heard me.
I said I'm losing my mind.

My dear Mrs Stephens,
we're all losing our mind, more or less.

The world is a very anxious, uptight place.

But, Doctor,
I saw an ashtray fly across the room,

a vase shatter
and put itself back together again.

At least you haven't been bored.

Bored? I'm mad!

Now, now let's not jump to conclusions.

An active imagination
doesn't mean you're mad.

- Have you tried writing?
- Dr Rhinehouse,

if you want to know the truth,
I still think my daughter-in-law's a witch.

So, I think my son-in-law's a bum.

He hasn't worked in eight months.

But, Doctor,
my daughter-in-law's a real witch.

I mean, she does all kinds of witch tricks.

You mean she flies on a broom?

I don't know.

- She might if she was in a hurry.
- Charming!

You don't believe me.

You think I'm making it up.
I tell you, I'm sick!

Please, I'm the doctor.
If you're sick, I tell you.

Sorry.

So, stay on your tranquilisers,
and don't worry about a thing.

And take my advice, write.

It's a shame to waste
an imagination like yours.

Then you think there's nothing
seriously wrong with me, Doctor?

Of course not, you're fine.

Mr Stephens, may I see you
for a moment, please, alone?

Mr Stephens, there's something
seriously wrong with your wife.

But only a second ago
you said she was fine.

Forget what I said a second ago.
Believe me, she's sick.

Well, what's wrong with her?

- You want the truth?
- Yes.

- I don't know.
- You don't know?

At $35 an hour you don't know?

Let me put it another way, I'm not sure.

It could be physical or it could be mental.

Oh, well, I'm glad
you narrowed it down to that.

I suggest a complete physical examination,

and I will set up a series of
psychological tests for her to take.

Well, isn't there something
we can do in the meantime?

Yeah, love her, comfort her
und never let her out of your sight.

Phyllis.

Phyllis!

"Dear Frank, I know Dr Rhinehouse
wasn't telling me the truth.

"Please try to forget me. Love, Phyllis."

I just don't understand it.

Your mother's been complaining
of aches and pains for years,

but she's never gone off the track before.

- I have a hunch where she might have gone.
- Where's that?

Well, the logical place
for a person to go who thinks she's...

Well...

I think she'd go to a rest home.

That's a possibility. There must be
hundreds of rest homes in the city.

We'll call them all.

I'll bet she's in one of them right now,
taking her pills.

Yeah, her pills.

Excuse me while I check my roast.

- I'll get the phone book, Dad.
- Good.

Here, try the Whippoorwill Rest Home.
That's her favourite bird.

Elixir of herbs and sloe gin fizz,

whisk me to where Mrs Stephens is.

Oh, that's terrible.

I'm Mrs Quigley.
What's your name, sweetie?

Mrs Stephens.

What are you in for?

I'm having hallucinations.
I think my daughter-in-law's a witch.

My kids put me away.
Unappreciative, rotten little...

- Well, what are you in for?
- I told you.

I have delusions
that my daughter-in-law's a witch.

- You play gin?
- No. No, I never learned.

Well, you should have.
People ought to plan for their old age.

What are you in for?

- I've been trying to tell you. My...
- I know!

- I'll bet you play canasta.
- No, I don't.

That's the trouble with you youngsters.
You're unaccomplished.

You never did tell me what...

- What's in that bottle?
- Those are my tranquilisers.

Oh, let me have one.
Mine aren't working at all.

- Oh, do you really think you should?
- Boy, you are a worrier.

I don't blame your kids
for putting you away.

They didn't put me away. I put myself away.

People and things be wild and free,
but only for Mrs Quigley to see.

Look at that!

Look at what?

Those oranges,
they all floated off the tree,

and then bounced around on the ground,
and then floated back onto the tree again.

It was wild.

Look at that!

Look at what?

Those pills. What's in those pills?

I'm on a trip you wouldn't believe.

Doctor! Doctor! Doctor!

Oh, Mrs Stephens,
thank goodness I found you!

Samantha, what are you doing here?

Looking for you.
Mr Stephens and Darrin are worried sick.

- Do you play canasta?
- I'm afraid not.

Oh, that's the trouble with teenagers.
You're worse than the youngsters.

What's the matter, Mrs Quigley?

Give me those pills, sweetie.

Take a look at these tranquilisers, Doctor.

These aren't tranquilisers.
They're hallucinogenics.

- They are?
- Yes.

You take one of these and you can
imagine all sorts of wild things.

I'll take a gross.

Samantha, those are my pills.

There seems to be
some sort of a mistake here.

The bottle is marked "tranquilisers,"
but these are hallucinogenic pills.

Well, that explains everything.

The druggist must have
given you the wrong pills.

You've got a lawsuit here, Mrs Stephens.

Oh, Doctor, I'm too relieved for that.

I've been seeing crazy things
all day and now I know why.

Oh, Samantha, dear, forgive me.

I don't know what to say.

Don't say anything, Mrs Stephens.
I understand.

Just thank Mrs Quigley.

If it hadn't been for her,
we might never have found out.

- Mrs Quigley.
- Oh, you wanna hand wrestle.

Well, that's one thing I don't do,
but I will take those pills, sweetie.

With your permission, ladies,
I'll take those pills.
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