Sleepy Hollow

BALTUS: Clergyman Steenwyck is calling a meeting. This time he is determined to have you forced out, or worse.

ICHABOD: How did you hear this?

BALTUS: He came to me. He promised great violence. Said I should cast you out for my own protection. I must speak honestly. There is no reason to think he will not meet with success.

ICHABOD: Um... I... I did not... no. Why?

BALTUS: Sarah has gone missing... my servant girl. Her things are gone. Damn it. She has joined the migration out of town. What about breakfast, woman? Or, am I to starve to death?

BALTUS: Hail, Constable. How are you?

ICHABOD: Well enough. Your gathering does honor to the deceased.

ICHABOD: Who took the meat?

BALTUS: Must have been the Redman. A Lenape Indian lives in the Western Woods.

ICHABOD: These woods of yours sound a bit crowded, what with all the witches, ghouls and Indians living there.

ICHABOD: Excuse me, gentlemen, but... who has seen this Horseman?

BALTUS: Many have.

ICHABOD: Then, name one person who has seen him with their own eyes.

ICHABOD: If we could speak alone.

BALTUS: This is not a time for frivolity, Katrina, is it? Am I mistaken?

BROM: Constable Crane is not the only one who fights with science on his side.

ICHABOD: I fired upon the Horseman and the bullet did nothing.

BROM: You must have missed your mark.

ICHABOD: I hit him square.

BROM: I say... if the Horseman is solid enough to take the lives of our people, he's solid enough to feel this...

BROM: They spend two days in chains.

ICHABOD: Two days... ? For murder?

BROM: What the hell are you doing?

ICHABOD: You are the blacksmith. Ever shod a horse with a hoof this large?

BROM: Never. A shoe that size I would have remembered.

BROM: We haven't heard your name yet, friend.

ICHABOD: Well, unless your name is Baltus, you should not worry over mine.

BROM: Certainly not.

ICHABOD: Excuse me, Miss... They have a laugh at your expense.

ICHABOD: No clotting or gathering of pus. No healing at all.

DOCTOR LANCASTER: What?

ICHABOD: When this cut was made, this person was already dead. This is not Lady Van Tassel.

ICHABOD: Stains of blood.

DOCTOR LANCASTER: What of it?

DOCTOR LANCASTER: ... help yourself, you pompous ass. I will be in bed.

ICHABOD: Would you stay, doctor? I may need assistance.

DOCTOR LANCASTER: It has been a terrible jolt to her nerves.

ICHABOD: You will stay at her side?

DOCTOR LANCASTER: Keep still, Constable. You were half-drowned when they found you.

ICHABOD: ... Brom Bones...

DOCTOR LANCASTER: He is dead. You would be also, if your wound had not somehow shut.

ICHABOD: Bring Young Masbath here.

DOCTOR LANCASTER: You need to sleep.

ICHABOD: Bring him.

DOCTOR LANCASTER: You need rest.

ICHABOD: The wounds are the same. Cauterized. No chopping or half-measures either. One stroke took the head. Have you seen, doctor... ? Even the spinal bone... sliced as smooth as butter.

DOCTOR LANCASTER: I do not care. You are welcome to use my work area, but I beg you... return her to her resting place.

ICHABOD: In time, doctor. Soon as I finish.

ICHABOD: He is a behemoth.

DOCTOR LANCASTER: A diseased monster.

DOCTOR LANCASTER: We must be a curious sight to him.

ICHABOD: What are you spying on?

DOCTOR LANCASTER: The Lenape. He comes to gawk at civilization from time to time.

ICHABOD: No bleeding.

DOCTOR LANCASTER: What is that?

ICHABOD: This should have bled by the pint. Yet, no blistering or scorched flesh. How... ? Whatever weapon was used... it cauterized somehow....

ICHABOD: Why did you move the body, Doctor?

DOCTOR LANCASTER: To place it inside its coffin.

ICHABOD: An honor, gentlemen. In time I will need every detail of the three murderings you've had, but, for now, I ask only if you have any theory at all as to who the killer might be?

DOCTOR LANCASTER: Excuse me?

ICHABOD: I say, is there any one person suspect in these acts?

DOCTOR LANCASTER: I was afraid of this.

ICHABOD: You are so upset now... and yet, you seemed in such good spirits last night.

FATHER STEENWYCK: You cannot do this. I am a man of God!

ICHABOD: Climb to the top of the tallest ladder you can find, Father. That is the closest you ever come to God.

ICHABOD: Only if I repeat them outside this room. And, I will if I must... Out there, for all to hear. Or... you may speak, as planned. But, you tell them you feel compelled to move on to greener pastures.

FATHER STEENWYCK: No. You will not run me out. No one will believe a word of what you say.

ICHABOD: Oh? Far as I can tell, a rumor does not travel alone for long here.

FATHER STEENWYCK: Are you a deist? Is that it? A free thinker who does not believe in divinity.

ICHABOD: It is only important what you are. An adulterer...

FATHER STEENWYCK: I am the Lord's voice in this town.

ICHABOD: Wallowing in sin and lust...

FATHER STEENWYCK: They need guidance.

ICHABOD: Wallowing quite literally in blood.

FATHER STEENWYCK: Damn you, sir! God damn you to hell!

ICHABOD: He may. But, not soon enough for you, and not on your behalf.

FATHER STEENWYCK: For poaching. Or, would you remake our laws now that Magistrate Philipse has given up the ghost?

ICHABOD: Does that look like an animal hanging?

FATHER STEENWYCK: I will not allow it. I will not!

ICHABOD: Protest to my superiors if you like.

FATHER STEENWYCK: Your superiors are two days away!

ICHABOD: Then, you should have left two days ago, because I have men willing to help me today.

FATHER STEENWYCK: It is sacrilege!

ICHABOD: I cannot proceed without examining the previous victims.

FATHER STEENWYCK: Why not tell us what you have heard? Hmm? How much have your superiors bothered to tell you?

ICHABOD: All I know is three are slain, their heads found severed from their bodies...

FATHER STEENWYCK: The heads were not found severed. The heads were not found at all.

ICHABOD: Perhaps, I could assist in finding them?

HARDENBROOK: Well... that might be... helpful.

HARDENBROOK: Damn... damn... damn...

ICHABOD: Master Hardenbrook...

ICHABOD: Maybe you should take this.

HARDENBROOK: A fine idea.

ICHABOD: May I see them, Master Hardenbrook?

HARDENBROOK: Hmm? See them?

ICHABOD: May we look at them now?

HARDENBROOK: Of course. You want them... it shall not take long. Wait here.

ICHABOD: Do you have these persons' wills?

HARDENBROOK: I have everything... last testaments... birth certificates, death certificates... deeds.

ICHABOD: Yes, sir... but, do you have these?

ICHABOD: Just a moment... Are you saying it is he?

HARDENBROOK: When a goblin leaps from the nether world, others follow. Poltergeists of the air, water and earth follow and cheer his desecrations!

HARDENBROOK: Taken. Taken by the Headless Horseman. Taken back to hell.

ICHABOD: Pardon me?

HIGH CONSTABLE: There is a farming community upstate, Constable... ten days journey north in the Hudson Highlands. It is named Sleepy Hollow. Within a fortnight, three persons have been murdered there. Each with their head lopped cleanly off. The elders of the Hollow have sent dispatches to me, requesting assistance, and now, just this very moment, I have chosen you.

ICHABOD: Chosen me?

HIGH CONSTABLE: These "methods" of yours... there has been no practical application.

ICHABOD: Not for lack of trying.

HIGH CONSTABLE: Just so. Granted. And so you take your experimentations to Sleepy Hollow and catch the murderer who has tainted the place. Bring him here to face our good justice. Will you do this for me?

ICHABOD: I shall, gladly.

HIGH CONSTABLE: Excellent. Then, you are excused till morning.

HIGH CONSTABLE: Very few, if any.

ICHABOD: Even though I have seen confessions pried from the lips of the accused, often quite literally?

HIGH CONSTABLE: For one who calls himself a Federalist, your mouth reeks of Republican liberalism.

ICHABOD: Not Liberalism. Equanimity.

ICHABOD: Our first night watch is adequate against fire and some violence, but if we were more often able to ensure justice, after the fact, then criminals would truly have something to fear from law enforcement.

HIGH CONSTABLE: Have they nothing to fear presently?

ICHABOD: Without disrespect, look around you. We overflow. As do our courts.

HIGH CONSTABLE: And, with disrespect, Constable, if jails and courts overflow, it is testimony to success, not failure.

ICHABOD: But, how many innocents rot here? And, how many victims are buried without reprisal while guilty men roam our streets?

HIGH CONSTABLE: He will be burned pursuant to statutes of health.

ICHABOD: I could determine if he were dead before he went into the Hudson.

HIGH CONSTABLE: Must we again hear these heretical rantings?

ICHABOD: Just a moment... if I may. It is possible this man was murdered.

HIGH CONSTABLE: He drowned. Anyone could see.

ICHABOD: There are surgical ways of telling how he died... by the water in his lungs...

KILLIAN: The Widow Windsor.

ICHABOD: Is that all you say? Look at her.

KILLIAN: It's not something people speak of openly. She did not remarry.

ICHABOD: Tell me something. What becomes of Young Masbath?

KILLIAN: Van Ripper and his wife agreed to take him. They have children and a good home and good land.

KILLIAN: Master Crane, sir. I'm glad we have time alone. You've been told plenty about the Horseman, I'm certain.

ICHABOD: More than enough, actually. I beg you, no more, please.

KILLIAN: No, sir, no. If you ask me, I say you just laid eyes on our murderer through that glass.

ICHABOD: Listen to what you say....

PHILIPSE: No, you listen! You may think we are a pack of superstitious dullards...

ICHABOD: At times I do.

PHILIPSE: We are farmers here, not lawyers or bankers, or even constables. Every penny we earn comes from what we send down the Hudson.

ICHABOD: I know it.

PHILIPSE: Not more than a year ago, a mob hung a man for stealing a horse. For stealing a horse! And, you dig up our dead.

ICHABOD: Are you saying I should be frightened? Is this a message passed on from Clergyman Steenwyck?

ICHABOD: What is that you wear?

PHILIPSE: My talisman. It will, protect against the Horseman if I show a brave face. But, I cannot run. If I run in fear, it is worthless.

ICHABOD: Well... so much for common sense.

PHILIPSE: ... found the body this morning. You do believe now, don't you?

ICHABOD: Believe?

ICHABOD: The Van Garretts died first; a man and his son, survived by a wife and two infants. And the Widow Windsor was next...

PHILIPSE: And now Jonathan Masbath.

ICHABOD: Why would he flee this direction, with so much open ground to cross before he reached cover?

PHILIPSE: He would not have gone into the Western Woods. No sane man would.

PHILIPSE: Well, Constable... are you aware... to be honest, you are not what we expected. We sent for the militia.

ICHABOD: The militia?

ICHABOD: How are you?

YOUNG MASBATH: Tired.

YOUNG MASBATH: What now?

ICHABOD: I doubt that's the end.

YOUNG MASBATH: What can we do?

ICHABOD: Take the reins.

ICHABOD: Climb up!

YOUNG MASBATH: Lady Van Tassel...

ICHABOD: I know. Hold on.

ICHABOD: This is farewell.

YOUNG MASBATH: Take me with you. There's nothing left for me here.

ICHABOD: I cannot. You should not worry. Van Ripper and his wife will look after you. They will. You will be well cared for.

YOUNG MASBATH: Why... why are you like this?

ICHABOD: You do not know all that has happened. You cannot understand.

YOUNG MASBATH: Won't you change your mind, sir? What can I say to convince you?

ICHABOD: Nothing. To hell with this place and all the people here.

YOUNG MASBATH: She's the one who controlled the Horseman, isn't she, sir? Sir?

ICHABOD: I need time for thinking. Without you hanging on my coattails for a change.

YOUNG MASBATH: What now? Where is she?

ICHABOD: Things have become complicated. Katrina is at the mill. Ride ahead, find her and bring her to meet me outside the church. Find her at all costs. Quickly.

YOUNG MASBATH: There are no other doors. This is as far as she could have gone.

ICHABOD: It is nothing. She comes to read books, so her father will not find her. It is absolutely nothing.

YOUNG MASBATH: What books?

ICHABOD: Fiction plays and novels. Baltus does not approve. Now, come. It may not be long before Lady Van Tassel returns.

YOUNG MASBATH: But, sir... what books? Where are they?

YOUNG MASBATH: I was getting worried. Who was it?

ICHABOD: Lady Van Tassel.

YOUNG MASBATH: What was she doing?

ICHABOD: Something I really wish I had not seen. Never mind it. Did you find the victims' loan agreements?

YOUNG MASBATH: No. They are all missing.

YOUNG MASBATH: There is no Masbath here. My father's loan papers are missing.

ICHABOD: There are none for Magistrate Philipse either. "Paasch, James" "Pieter, Thomas" "Pos, William."

ICHABOD: Often in such cases, property which has gone intestate legally passes to whomever the deceased was indebted to. And, who in this town is owed a great many debts?

YOUNG MASBATH: Baltus Van Tassel.

ICHABOD: Did your father take a loan?

YOUNG MASBATH: Yes. I rode with him on payment days.

ICHABOD: Only the heirs were killed. Proof that the Horseman slaughters by assignment.

YOUNG MASBATH: But, if the farm is not mine, who stole it away?

ICHABOD: No one yet, far as I can tell. It has gone intestate.

YOUNG MASBATH: In test... what?

ICHABOD: Intestate. Your farm... all the farms... they belong to no one.

YOUNG MASBATH: What does it mean?

YOUNG MASBATH: My father had farm land. It was the only thing we owned of any value.

ICHABOD: And it now belongs to you, according to Baltus. I heard him say it.

YOUNG MASBATH: Yes.

YOUNG MASBATH: What good is this?

ICHABOD: To discover what might have been taken from those who died, it will help to know what was there that could be taken in the first place.

YOUNG MASBATH: If someone has the Horseman's skull... if they control the Horseman, then why haven't they sent him for your head yet?

ICHABOD: Because, I serve a fine purpose alive. It is perfection for our murderer if I return to New York City with nothing more than tales of a galloping ghoul. We must uncover the reason these victims were targeted. What was taken from them... other than their lives? Who benefits by their deaths?

YOUNG MASBATH: Someone left last night. Looked like they headed to the square, but I lost them in the forest.

ICHABOD: Man or woman?

YOUNG MASBATH: All I saw was their lantern.

ICHABOD: Business, best hidden is hidden best at night.

ICHABOD: Must be some sort of gateway. But, why this place... ?

YOUNG MASBATH: We should go.

ICHABOD: Why this tree?

YOUNG MASBATH: What is it?

ICHABOD: Stay back.

YOUNG MASBATH: If the Crone's wound bled hard, that means she was not killed by the Hessian. Someone only tried to make it look that way.

ICHABOD: You grow sharper by the minute, little man. It boggles my mind, but I begin to prefer your company over all others.

YOUNG MASBATH: Well... I'm one of the few people who likes you.

ICHABOD: True enough.

YOUNG MASBATH: Then, who murdered the Old Crone? And why?

ICHABOD: Good questions, deserving answers, of which we are in short supply.

YOUNG MASBATH: What does it mean... climb down to the Horseman's soulless place?

ICHABOD: "Let loose his silent shrieking." Who knows, till we work at it? I admit not being anxious to find out. "He who holds the Horseman's desire will guide his reaping hand." Whatever the Horseman's desire is, other than extinguishing lives.

ICHABOD: We should not go much further in this murk.

YOUNG MASBATH: Should we go back?

ICHABOD: We are far from the Hollow. Loath to say it... better to get our backs against a tree and stay till morning.

YOUNG MASBATH: Follow the Indian trail to where the sun dies. To the tree of the dead. Maybe we passed it by.

ICHABOD: How could something named "the tree of the dead" fail to draw attention?

ICHABOD: We are leaving.

YOUNG MASBATH: What happened?

ICHABOD: What is it?

YOUNG MASBATH: Listen.

ICHABOD: I hear nothing.

YOUNG MASBATH: No crickets or cicadas calling. No bird songs.

ICHABOD: If the Western Woods are truly the Devil's Glen, we will see for ourselves.

YOUNG MASBATH: Father said witches live there.

ICHABOD: Witches do not exist. However...

YOUNG MASBATH: Thank you.

ICHABOD: Now, hold the bowl steady. Back to business.

YOUNG MASBATH: It's spectacular.

ICHABOD: Yes... I suppose it is. Keep it.

YOUNG MASBATH: No, I couldn't...

ICHABOD: I have others. All I need is this.

ICHABOD: Are you familiar with magnets?

YOUNG MASBATH: What kind of nuts?

ICHABOD: Not for eating, I assure you. Watch here.

ICHABOD: Out there. What do you see?

YOUNG MASBATH: The Western Woods.

ICHABOD: Look again.

ICHABOD: What is it?

YOUNG MASBATH: It's payment day. Loan monies are given to Baltus the last day each month. Almost everyone borrows... for tools or to hire workers.

YOUNG MASBATH: Where are we going?

ICHABOD: Up.

ICHABOD: The Lenape Indian had much to tell once I opened his mouth.

YOUNG MASBATH: How could he?

ICHABOD: His teeth. Someone had cut them and chipped off rotten pieces far back in his mouth. The Lenape could not have done that for himself. Someone out there cared for him.

ICHABOD: What is the common thread between these victims?

YOUNG MASBATH: I'm sure I don't know.

ICHABOD: We must discover it. The reason the murderer chose these persons.

ICHABOD: I am not here for revenge. I am here to bring justice.

YOUNG MASBATH: Whatever. You still need a second to tend to your things.

ICHABOD: I manage fine alone.

YOUNG MASBATH: I deserve to help you. Don't you see how much this means? My father... he... he was a good man...

ICHABOD: Young Masbath, I am sorry for your loss. It is a great and sad tragedy. However... I cannot be the one to look after you now.

YOUNG MASBATH: I did not ask you to, did I?

ICHABOD: The blades will carry us to the ground. Face front and wait for me.

KATRINA: I... I can't do this.

ICHABOD: We have no choice.

KATRINA: Quickly, close it.

ICHABOD: No. Get to the crest of the roof and be ready to jump.

KATRINA: Ichabod...

ICHABOD: Keep climbing. I will follow...

KATRINA: What was that?

ICHABOD: His horse.

KATRINA: The church.

ICHABOD: He moves too fast.

KATRINA: Where are we going?

ICHABOD: I do not know. Away.

ICHABOD: Katrina...

KATRINA: Speak the words, Constable. What is stopping you? What has happened to your ability to transcend sentimentality?

KATRINA: I have been reading your journal. I'm sorry. I found it too fascinating to resist. I rode to catch up with you at the Notary, out of curiosity. Before I found you though, I overheard what you were said.

ICHABOD: It was you there?

KATRINA: When... when you spoke father's name along with accusations, I could not believe it. I had to hide these... at least till I could confront him myself.

ICHABOD: And, what did he say?

KATRINA: He did not do these things. If you knew him, you would realize...

ICHABOD: What did he say, Katrina?

KATRINA: I have not been able to face him yet.

ICHABOD: The loans give the land to your father. It does not matter survivors are still on their farms. They could be thrown off... tomorrow... a year from now.

KATRINA: Yes, I have seen that, and I told you why I hid them.

ICHABOD: What would you have me believe?

KATRINA: If you think I am behind this, say it.

ICHABOD: The name Van Tassel is blackened. You share that name.

KATRINA: Call me a liar, then, and a murderess. Say it, out and out.

KATRINA: What is so urgent?

ICHABOD: Come with me.

ICHABOD: What... what are you doing... ?

KATRINA: I'm drawing bad blood from the wound.

ICHABOD: Why is it every grave I open holds a new mystery inside?

KATRINA: The skull is gone.

ICHABOD: Yes. I did notice that, thank you.

KATRINA: My God... what has happened?

ICHABOD: He... he tries to take the heads... they will not pass.

KATRINA: What are you doing?

ICHABOD: Just... keep where you are.

ICHABOD: Blood.

KATRINA: What did you say?

KATRINA: It is only me.

ICHABOD: Katrina. Why do you follow?

KATRINA: I apologize if I worried you.

ICHABOD: A woman should not be out alone in these woods.

KATRINA: But, I am not alone, am I? I only wished to see what you were up to, and... To thank you.

ICHABOD: Lady Van Tassel... she is your stepmother, isn't she? She bears so little resemblance.

KATRINA: What?

ICHABOD: She is not your birth mother, is she?

KATRINA: No, but... why do you ask that?

ICHABOD: What happened to your mother? Is she still alive?

KATRINA: She died. Her lungs were diseased... two years ago. What is this about?

ICHABOD: Memories have come back. I had them forgotten, and wish I could forget them again... but they are here now. Lord, how I hate this place.

KATRINA: If you want me to go, I will. Do you want me to leave?

ICHABOD: I... I do not know. I no longer know what I think or what I feel.

KATRINA: The things I said to you before... I was wrong to say them.

ICHABOD: No, actually, you were not. Every word you spoke had truth in it.

KATRINA: What has happened?

ICHABOD: Allow me some time. I have spent every hour in the company of others. I need to be alone.

KATRINA: What troubles you?

KATRINA: You falter with your answer because you strive without putting the whole of your heart into it. Can't you see? You'll bring dignity to the dead even if you have to chop them into little pieces to do it.

ICHABOD: If it had been surgery on a living person, done to save that person's life, you would not question it. Not for a moment. So, let me be the first to tell you, dear girl... on the other side of these sheltering mountains, a whole world has advanced beyond such plebeian thinking as yours. And someday, no matter how much you fear it, that world will come to roust Sleepy Hollow out of its slumber.

KATRINA: Why would you do such a thing?

ICHABOD: No stone may be left unturned. It may appear harsh...

KATRINA: I have misjudged you I think. I did not imagine you were so cruel.

ICHABOD: You are not regarding it in full. The Widow Windsor had been run through by a sword. I followed the bloodless wound, a wound whose path I could not comprehend till I had seen the Horseman with my own eyes.

KATRINA: What are you on about?

ICHABOD: The child she carried was eight months grown at least... near to birthing. The sword had pierced its tiny heart exactly.

KATRINA: Must I hear this?

ICHABOD: There was no blind stabbing. This singular thrust found its target omnipotently, as if the Horseman made certain the unborn child died with its mother.

KATRINA: And this gives worth to butchery?

ICHABOD: It was not butchery.

KATRINA: What is it then? Scientific method? How can any of this matter in the slightest?

ICHABOD: I have no solution for its meaning yet, but I could not just ignore it.

KATRINA: Take a lesson from Young Masbath's desires, Ichabod Crane. He follows with you to avenge his father's death. That I understand. But, what do you want?

ICHABOD: To avenge his father, and the others.

KATRINA: But, why? Tell me why.

KATRINA: You promised justice.

ICHABOD: If these are the random stalkings of a monster, what good am I?

KATRINA: People have put their trust in you.

ICHABOD: They have done nothing of the sort.

KATRINA: Won't they still have that justice? Or, was it a vain promise?

ICHABOD: Thank you. No. Here...

KATRINA: I insist that you have it.

ICHABOD: Very well. But, it will only sit gathering dust.

KATRINA: That would be a pity. Those words might show you something you've never seen before.

KATRINA: Oh, you are hopeless. May I keep it at least?

ICHABOD: If you want. But...

KATRINA: Then, I also have a gift for you. True magic which even you will not be able to deny.

ICHABOD: He only appears to be inside the cage. The point being...

KATRINA: You made this, and the drawings?

ICHABOD: Yes, but listen. The illusion is easily explained. The eye retains each image, till they combine. And yet, some would call this toy magic.

KATRINA: Don't you see why? Look closely a moment. Put your intellect aside. Can't you see what is inexplicable?

ICHABOD: Here it is. A bird on one side. His cage on the other. Now, stare at it. The bird seems to be in his cage.

KATRINA: Yes, he does. May I try?

KATRINA: These scars. How did you get them?

ICHABOD: I have had them since childhood. I cannot remember what from.

KATRINA: It would be interesting to find out.

KATRINA: You do not disturb me. Please stay. Having trouble sleeping?

ICHABOD: May I ask... why do you cover your book that way?

KATRINA: You pay great attention to small things. I hide these as I hide all my books. Father would not approve, lest it were the Bible.

ICHABOD: I, um... I have something to show you, if you have a moment.

KATRINA: Not all think it is the Horseman. Many say witches come from the Western Woods to steal skulls for their cauldrons. Some believe a person in this very town kneels before Lucifer, offering death as tribute. And, still others believe none of it.

ICHABOD: Are you so superstitious?

KATRINA: To call a person superstitious is to imply they fear magic, but not all magic is black.

ICHABOD: There is no such thing as magic.

KATRINA: Really? Then... what is your rebuttal to those romantic poets claiming proof of magic in a rose at full bloom, or even in a teardrop?

ICHABOD: Poets have silly notions about plants and bodily secretions.

KATRINA: You are funny.

KATRINA: I've read a great deal about your New York City. Do be a dear and tell me all about it. Sounds like an extraordinary place to live a life.

ICHABOD: Extra ordinary, yes. But first, you tell me about the Headless Horseman.

KATRINA: Is it me, or are you this nervous around all women?

ICHABOD: Perhaps it is because your suitor's hands were recently very nearly wrapped around my throat.

KATRINA: My suitor?

ICHABOD: The massive fellow... Brom. For someone you call "friend," he misplaces a good portion of jealousy.

KATRINA: He has proposed to me twice.

ICHABOD: Which may explain his temperament. To have asked twice means the answer was "no" at least once.

KATRINA: Did they tell? It is something in the air so that dreams come to everyone. According to the elders, an Indian prophet held powwows here before the land was taken, and spells cast then still linger to this day.

ICHABOD: Do you often make a habit of sitting on strange men's beds?

KATRINA: You are horribly old-fashioned, aren't you?

ICHABOD: Feel free to form your own opinion. Though it appears you already have.

KATRINA: Well, I intended to apologize for the behavior of my friend Brom Van Brunt, but it seems I've made matters worse. I'll leave you to your business.

ICHABOD: Excuse me... I should apologize. I, um... I... have no great love of...

KATRINA: Other people?

ICHABOD: Small talk.

KATRINA: It might have been more. Might have been positively grand talk.

KATRINA: Forgive me, I didn't know.

ICHABOD: I... I am looking for Baltus Van Tassel.

LADY VAN TASSEL: You cannot kill what is already dead.

ICHABOD: Let her go!

LADY VAN TASSEL: Yes... yes. I think I will...

LADY VAN TASSEL: I know you saw me.

ICHABOD: What... ?

ICHABOD: It appears well. It has already clotted.

LADY VAN TASSEL: Look closer. Do you have anything to clean it with?

ICHABOD: It is fine. Now, I must...

ICHABOD: Excuse me, Lady Van Tassel... Katrina is not in her room.

LADY VAN TASSEL: No. She has gone out.

ICHABOD: Where?

LADY VAN TASSEL: She has taken the last of our grain to be milled. You do have a background in the medical arts, don't you, Constable?

ICHABOD: Very little. I must be going...

LADY VAN TASSEL: Returning to the Western Woods?

ICHABOD: Yes, actually.

LADY VAN TASSEL: Use caution.

ICHABOD: Do you know... I think those are the first words I have heard from you my entire time here.

LADY VAN TASSEL: As my husband says, a wife should be always like an echo, and at the same time, quite unlike an echo. Like an echo, she should speak only when spoken to, and unlike an echo, should never try to have the last word, or, at least that is what he believes.

LADY VAN TASSEL: You said yourself. What mere man could have downed the Belltower?

ICHABOD: It is a prime tenet of science, Philipse, that because one thing appears improbable does not mean you embrace the utterly fantastical.

ICHABOD: Van Ripper... do you have a gun?

VAN RIPPER: Yes. Here...

ICHABOD: Van Ripper, turn the coach about!

VAN RIPPER: What did you say?

ICHABOD: Turn around. Now!

ICHABOD: There was not much blood, was there?

VAN RIPPER: I didn't see none.

VAN RIPPER: Here... in front of this oak, facing north. Horrible...

ICHABOD: To the best of your recollection, where did the open wound fall?

ICHABOD: Van Ripper. Can you show where the body lay?

VAN RIPPER: I can show exactly.

ICHABOD: What... what are you doing?

OLD CRONE: Close your mouth! Keep silent.

ICHABOD: Can you help?

OLD CRONE: You want to see into the nether world... I can show you. Whatever you see, do not move or speak. I will hold him.

OLD CRONE: I hear him. He rides to the Hollow and back.

ICHABOD: The Horseman. Yes.

OLD CRONE: Sit.

ICHABOD: The Lenape who lived in these woods... do you know him? The Redman? I should tell you... he has been murdered.

OLD CRONE: Leave me. You are not welcome here.

ICHABOD: Pardon. You did not answer when I knocked. Are we intruding?

OLD CRONE: You are from the Hollow?

ICHABOD: In a way, yes.

LADY VAN TASSEL: Imagine my surprise, finding him on a liason with a common servant. A girl who had apparently become his secret love.

KATRINA: No one will believe your lies, whore.

LADY VAN TASSEL: This whore will see your mouth shut forever very soon. But... I am not going to kill you. Not me...

LADY VAN TASSEL: He rides tonight.

KATRINA: Father saw you die.

LADY VAN TASSEL: He saw me thrown... saw the Horseman looming over me as I fled. Things I wanted him to see. But, as long as I govern the Horseman, he cannot harm me. Baltus did not stay enough to see that. He ran as a coward, unfettered by my fate.

KATRINA: You... you are alive.

LADY VAN TASSEL: Am I? Or, are you and Young Masbath dead along with me?

KATRINA: Lay still, Ichabod. Do not move.

LADY VAN TASSEL: Doctor, he is awake.

THIRD MAN: Go home.

YOUNG ICHABOD: May I see my mother?

THIRD MAN: You do not want to be here. Go home to your father.

YOUNG ICHABOD: She did not do it... please listen...

THIRD MAN: She is guilty.

YOUNG ICHABOD: No, sir, please... she is innocent...

THIRD MAN: She has confessed.

YOUNG ICHABOD: No.

THIRD MAN: She has admitted to her evil and signed a written confession. Do you know what confession is? All that is left for you now is to pray for her soul.