Cry of the Banshee

Synopsis: In Elizabethan England, a wicked lord massacres nearly all the members of a coven of witches, earning the enmity of their leader, Oona. Oona calls up a magical servant, a "banshee", to destroy the lord's family. (The "banshee" of this tale bears no resemblance to the normal usage of the term!)
Genre: Horror
Director(s): Gordon Hessler
Production: American International Pictures
 
IMDB:
5.6
GP
Year:
1970
91 min
98 Views


1

H is for heretic.

Margaret Donald,

you were a kitchen maid in

the house of the widow Rockby,

who was burned as a

witch this seven days.

Heathen charms were

found in your room.

No.

Who gave them to you?

I know nothing.

Damn it girl, the

more I find to punish,

the more I find to discover.

Who else came to the house

consorting with the witch?

I know nothing of witchcraft.

Very well.

No. No.

No.

Do you still maintain

that you know nothing?

Nothing, nothing.

According to the law,

as a witch,

you are to be whipped

through the street

until your back is bloody,

and then to look on the

world from the stocks.

That, and that mark,

may help you to remember.

Court dismissed.

Go on, beat her.

Go on, whip her.

Come on, come over here.

Go on, throw it at

her, you filthy witch.

Go on. Hey.

Throw it at her, the

filthy witch, go on!

Mad dog my Lord,

cut my sheep to pieces!

I've never seen

anything like it,

as if the hound's bewitched.

Creature straight

from Hell, was it?

Aye my Lord, they

say it comes by night,

from the far fields

where the dead men walk.

Devils be damned.

There's 20 Oxford

crowns to the man

who brings me its head,

and proves to you that

there is no witchery.

You heard Lord Edward,

let's go hunt the mad dog down!

Father!

What do we have here, hmm?

Only two heathens?

The others escaped us,

they're learning new tricks.

You promised us entertainment.

And you shall have it!

What is that in your hand, boy?

Hmm? Pipes?

What's the matter?

Didn't that witch

of a mother of yours

give you spells and charms

to coax music from

those heathen pipes?

May!

What about this young girl? Huh?

Do her feet have magic? Hmm?

Dance! Play!

My husband,

please, I beg of you,

Why wife?

Here we have the son and

daughter of some sorceress,

and I'm damned if they shan't

afford us some merriment.

Dance, play!

Dance, b*tch!

It's a hound with its

paw caught in a trap.

Or a banshee telling

us that death is near.

Come, let us banish thoughts

of death with this, hmm?

Witch!

Come on Burke, rip it off!

Come on!

Take it off girl!

Let my sister be!

Let my sister be!

Let her be!

Please!

Please sir! Please help me!

Kill you! I'll kill you!

Murderer.

Murderer.

Take care of your tongue, woman.

He can soon get a third wife.

Yes, he's right.

Sean, take your

mother up to her roam.

Quiet her.

It is a banshee.

Banshee?

No.

No, it is only a mad dog that

has been killing our sheep,

and frightening the

villagers, nothing more.

Were you born this way?

Or did he raise you evil?

My real mother raised

me, God rest her soul.

And she was a wife to him.

Without him, you'd be nothing.

Nothing?

Doesn't matter.

No.

Don't you know? You don't?

Don't you know?

- This house is cursed!

- You be quiet!

And you, you are cursed,

and Edward's cursed,

and everybody's cursed!

Your house is cursed.

You he quiet.

You are cursed!

You need someone

young for your bed,

not my father.

No.

Come on, come on, come on.

Oh, take your time, boy.

Say something nice to

the kind gentleman,

no need to be afraid of him.

He's as gentle as a lamb.

Ahh, we'll he more gentle to him

than those who

strung him up there.

Woop.

Now, for our bit of kindness,

you can show us a

bit of gratitude.

Yes.

Who'd have use for a dead

man's hand, Mr. Mickey sir?

Witches, my boy.

There's evil around.

And there goes more of

those damn Whitmans.

Mark my word boy,

there's gonna be more

evil around this place.

I take it you'd prefer

still to he in Cambridge?

Father, I'd never

come home out of choice.

Welcome home, Harry.

Father's upstairs.

Welcome home, Lord Harry.

Oh, it's good to have

you back again, sir.

My, you are looking well.

This the new Priest

for the parish?

Aye, Father Tom,

my brother Sean.

Your predecessor lived to be 50.

He called me a

liar for six years.

Let's try some of

Father's whiskey.

Well you're back just in time

for some fine hunting, Harry.

That is if your tastes have

changed over the years.

The ways of witchery

still continue.

- Still?

- Aye.

I'd have thought by now

you'd have destroyed them all.

New ones spring up all the time.

Hah, I think they

do it to plague me.

Or perhaps to please you.

Knowing what you do

when you find them.

Father, you may

have heard that they

think of me as some kind of

a monster in the village.

Well, I'm a hard

magistrate, it's true.

But, authority is the

main point of government,

and maintaining authority is

the main purpose of the law.

Did they teach you that in your

fine Cambridge college, Harry?

I heard it's easier

to presume guilt

than to assume innocence.

And I think so too.

Well I'll expect

you both to join me

in stamping out the

heathen practices

that continue to occur here.

Witchcraft?

It's just toys to

these simple people,

but it's still a crime

against God and the crown.

That's no way to treat a man

when he's trying to sleep.

I can treat my groom

any way I like.

You.

There's too much of your

father in you, my dear.

Ow!

Hey.

Oh, he's beautiful.

Hello.

Hello.

Hey, hey.

Where did you come from?

We can have him for supper.

Oh, no.

It's one of my friends.

You've got better things

to do, haven't you?

Go on, there you go, go on!

Hey, hey.

Oh no.

We must go back, I'll be missed.

- Come on.

- Right.

My lady.

Woah, woah.

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Tim Kelly

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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