All language subtitles for Murdoch.Mysteries.S18E16

- This establishment looks
a bit better

than the last shambles
you booked us into.

How did you manage that?

- You're welcome, Father.

The owner is a big supporter
of the theatre.

He gave us a good rate.
We should be grateful.

- He's the one
who should be grateful.

He's getting
the cream of the crop

for virtually nothing.

- Stop squabbling, you two.

The new program is going
to bring in more audience.

Selections From Shakespeare.

What a great idea, Allen.
People will love it.

- God. What a world.
(scoffs)

People won't even sit through
a whole play anymore!

- Times are changing.

People don't want to spend
their leisure hours

watching Shakespeare.
They want vaudeville.

They want the moving pictures.

- They want a siffleuse.

- Nobody wants to hear somebody
standing on the stage whistling.

I mean, none of the things
you suggest will last.

- So you say. Need I remind you,
stepfather,

that we all have a say
in what happens.

- I am still the head
of this company,

and I will decide the program.

- Please, you are giving me
a headache.

We must put our energy
into the performance tonight.

- The real problem is you lot.

None of you deliver
The Bard's words--

- Oh!

- ...properly. See, everything

depends on the rhythm
of the line!

"Tomorrow, and tomorrow...

creeps in this petty pace
from day to day."

See, you must
pronounce the lines!

Properly!
(woman): Yes, dear.

- Oh, my.
- Connie!

You need to speak up!

People can't hear you.
How many times have I told you?

- I've lost count.
- Don't be so hard on her,

Donald. She is young!

She'll learn, and one day,

she'll have the spirit
of The Bard inside her as well.

Now, come on! Get going. Off!

Oh!

- Here, let me help.
- Well, thank you very much.

- Mr. Bahn. How are
the ticket sales so far?

- Uh, a little slow.
But it's early.

- How many?

- Four. Three groundlings
and one seat.

- It'll pick up.

- As long as we have enough
money to pay for the tent.

- Thank you. Enjoy.

Welcome gentlemen.
Would you like to sit or stand?

It's 25 cents for a chair

and ten more cents
for a cushion.

- And standing is...?
- Ten cents.

- I'm happy to stand.
- I'm not.

We'll take two seats
with cushions.

- Oh.
- Pay the young lady, Murdoch.

(woman clears throat)

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

- Selections from Shakespeare.

- Oh. We aren't seeing
an entire play?

- We must be just getting
the best bits.

Hope we get some Falstaff.

"We have heard the chimes
at midnight."

He was a bit of a carouser,

always out late-night drinking.

- It's a character
you identify with, sir?

- We're off duty, Murdoch.
No need to be smart.

(Murdoch): Not much of a crowd.

- Not much culture in Toronto.

- Ladies and gentlemen!

Welcome to our show.

Tooley's Troubadours
at your service.

And do we have a show
for you tonight.

Our first presentation will be
an excerpt

from one of the most
famous plays ever written.

The tragedy!
(crowd gasps)

...of Prince Hamlet of Denmark!

By, of course,

the incomparable
William Shakespeare.

- Now, I'm sure you're all
familiar with the story,

but just to remind you...

- Get on with it!
We don't have all day.

- Oh! Very well.

I didn't realize I was speaking
to so well-educated a group.

Without further ado,
as apparently you all know,

Hamlet has set up a play
to determine whether or not

his uncle has murdered
Hamlet's father,

as the Ghost says he has.

(coughing)

(apple crunching)

Let the show begin.

(applause)

(drum roll)

(continuous whistle)

(whistle stops)

(soft medieval music)

- Can't hear what
they're saying.

- That's because there's no
speaking in this part.

It's all done by mime.

- It's a mime.
- Mime? I paid for this?

(drum roll)

(soft medieval music)

(rhythmic drumming)

(Donald grunts)

(grunts)

- Help!

Somebody help!
This isn't an act!

- Someone call for an ambulance!

Sir! Sir, are you all right?

(grunts)
- The beard.

Please take care of my beard.

(grunts)

(exhales)

- Oh.

(gasping)

(theme music)

- The liquid poured into
Mr. Tooley's ear

was definitely poisonous.

It was saturated
with a tincture of henbane.

- He died quite quickly.
That's unusual.

- Uh, yes, Mr. Tooley
was suffering

from a minor tympanic
membrane perforation.

The poison would have entered
his bloodstream quickly

with bad results.

- Are we saying this was...
death by misadventure then?

- Uh, it's possible,

but it seems strange
that someone would use

real poison for the act.
Surely that seems unnecessary?

- As I recall in the play,

the ghost of Hamlet's father

declares that what kills him
was hebona.

- Sir, someone is taking
the script literally?

- Come on, Murdoch.
I think we should have a talk

with Tooley's Troubadours.
- Well, that-that's not

necessary, sir.
I, I can take care of this.

- I know, but I've had enough
sitting behind a bloody desk.

Sound the trumpet, Murdoch!

The old war horse
is back in business.

- Sir?

- Thought you'd like that.

- Well, yes. Of course.

Our coroner has confirmed
that Mr. Tooley's death

was caused by the rapid influx
into his system,

by way of his ear,
the poison henbane.

- And that's what you did,
was it not?

Poured something into his ear?

- No.

Why, that's ridiculous!

It was all pretext.
We were acting.

There was no poison,
no henbane.

Dora, you take care
of the props, tell him.

- I filled the vial
a half hour before curtain.

It contained nothing more
dangerous than water.

- Who else had access
to this vial?

- It wasn't locked away,
if that's what you mean.

Why should it be?

Allen had to pick it up
just before his entrance.

- I just did what
I was supposed to do.

I carried it on stage
and I acted as directed!

We've done it before many times.
Nothing like this ever happened.

- The poison likely wouldn't
have been fatal

were it not for Mr. Tooley's
existing condition.

- What kind of condition
are you referring to?

- He had a perforated eardrum.

- Were any of you aware
that Mr. Tooley

had a problem
with his eardrum?

- Oh, he constantly complained
about it.

I told him to go
and see a physician,

but you know how men are.

- So everyone was aware of it?

- Painfully aware.

- So any one of you lot
could have killed him.

- Yes! But none of us did.

- This troupe is like a family,
Chief Constable.

We have our disagreements
and squabbles,

but that is normal, is it not?

- Of course.

Now would you be kind enough
to leave us?

We've had a terrible loss.

- Oh, uh, one more thing.

Um, Mr. Tooley,
before his death,

asked that you
take care of his beard.

What did he mean by that?

- He was referring
to one of the props

that we sometimes employ.

- Oh. Right.

I'll be needing that
and the vial

that was used the night
of the performance.

- That's the thing, sir.

They are both gone.
- Gone?

- The property box disappeared
shortly after the performance.

(indistinct chatter)

- Ridiculous!

- What's that?

- The new serial Ruth is in,

that's the script for it.

The Adventures of Agnes
and Arthur.

- And it appears
you object to it?

- Well, have a look
at page eight.

- "And then Arthur kisses Agnes
and leads her to the boudoir."

- Boudoir?

Ruth is your wife, isn't she?

- She certainly is!

And I'm the only one who gets
to do the intimate things.

- They are just acting, Henry.

- And you're not an actor.

(scoffs)
- Well, I could be.

I mean, how hard could it
possibly... be?

Hold on. What if I were
to apply for the part myself.

Then Ruthie and I would be able
to spend more time together.

- Right, you lot. Stop fannying
around with the plants.

I've got a job for you.
Higgins, Roberts,

you're off to the Watling Inn.

- Of course, sir. Uh, why?

- You're looking for a missing
theatrical properties box.

- Are we looking
for anything in particular?

- Yes. A false beard
and a glass vial.

- Right away, sir.

- Seems you've got it
all under control.

- Not so fast. Uh...

We believe one of these people

may have poisoned
the victim with henbane.

I need to know where someone
would find such a thing.

- Henbane.

I've an idea.

- Uh, Watts.
- Hm?

Mm-hmm.

- No respect.

(knocking)
- Uh, Toronto Constabulary.

- What do you want?

- Sorry to bother you, ma'am.

We're looking for a collection
of missing props.

- Well, I don't have them.

But please find them.

They are my late husband's
most treasured possessions.

- I'm afraid we still need
to have a look around your room.

- You don't believe me?

- We'll be as brief as possible.

(mysterious music)

- Mr. Trivelle?

- Ah! Detective Watts.

I'm sorry, your order of sage
and bee balm has yet to arrive.

- I'm not here about that.

I was wondering
if you sell henbane.

- I do indeed. In fact,

I sold a bottle
of henbane tincture recently.

- Did you sell it
to any one of these people?

- No, none of them.

- Are you sure?

- Mind's still sharp, son.

- Can you describe the person
who purchased it?

- I'm not sure.
He was all muffled up.

Said he had the grippe;
couldn't talk very well.

- Hm.

You said, "he."
It was a man, then?

- Let's say he was trying
to be a man,

but to my mind,
he was just a young sprat

who wanted to look grown up.

Had some sort of moustache
and beard

and tried to make
his voice deeper. Ha!

You know how it is, Detective.
We've all gone through it.

I know I did.

- Right. Uh,

did he say why he wanted it?

- Oh, yes. I always ask.

He was getting it for his mother

who was suffering
from a severe toothache.

- Hm.
- She's also of a nervous

disposition, and henbane can
calm a person down if need be.

- But he would have known

it was a poisonous substance,
right?

- Of course he would have.

I make sure to give the customer

clear instructions as to how
to use my medicines.

Dosage and so on.
I write it on the label.

Like this.
- Mm.

Thank you.

- How much longer will you be?

- Almost finished.

- Why do you have this?

- Uh, my wife is
a moving picture actress.

- You are married
to Ruth Newsome?

- Well, her proper name
is Ruth Higgins-Newsome.

- And, uh, why do you
have her script?

- I intend to play
the role of her husband.

- Oh!

Good for you.

Do you have any
acting experience?

- Why do you need experience?

- Believe me. You'll need it.

Let me hear you read. Um...

Why don't you...

Read this bit.

(clears throat)

- Shall I compare thee
to a summer's day?

Thou art more "luffly"
and more temperament-temperate.

Rough winds do... shake.

The darling buds of May,

and summer's lease

hath all too short a date.

What do you think?

- I charge a very reasonable
rate for lessons.

- I don't want to speak
out of turn,

but I think you should
take him up on it, Henry.

- So, when do we start?

- Was I really that bad?

- I don't know.

I could understand the words,
but it sounded like you didn't.

- Well, I read them, didn't I?

- Yeah, but it was like you
didn't know what they meant.

- We found anything yet?

- Uh, well,
still two rooms to go.

- But nothing so far, sir.

- Nothing. Perhaps you could
look under this desk?

- Oh! There it is.

You missed that, Teddy.

- All right.
(grunts)

- Hey! What are you
doing in my room?

- I think the better question

is what is this
doing in your room?

So, you're a thief then.

- Well, you have me
dead to rights on that,

so I won't deny it.

- I suppose the next question is
are you a murderer as well?

- I'm not!
- Raising your voice

will not persuade us
of your innocence.

- I was nowhere near Mr. Tooley
when he was killed.

- Right. So, in the middle
of the confusion,

you absconded with this box.
Why?

- Because it was valuable.

(chuckles)

- Looks like a bunch
of theatrical junk to me.

- Perhaps to the untrained eye,
but it is far from that.

Last year, Donald was on tour
in England.

He met an antique dealer
who said he had

in his possession
several artifacts

that had belonged
to Shakespeare's own troupe,

The Chamberlain's Men.

- And did he try and sell him
London Bridge as well?

(Brackenreid chuckles)

Well, it all appears
to be here,

apart from the beard.

(Murdoch): Where is that?
- I don't know.

It wasn't in the box
when I took it.

It's the most valuable of all.

- Well, then,

if these items are genuine,

then they would be
worth a fortune.

- I'd say.
Especially that beard.

It is said it confers
magical powers

when used by an actor.

- Right. So you've confessed
to the theft,

but not the murder.

- Because I didn't kill him.

- Who besides you in the troupe

would have reason to do so?

- At different times,
everyone, I'd imagine.

Donald could be a proper tyrant.

- Right.

And where were you before
the performance...

commenced?

- I'd rather not say.

- Right. Well, then.

You'll remain in our cells.

- I was with Connie Courtland.

In her room.
(door closes)

- The dead man's daughter?

- But no one can know.

- Getting it on with
the boss's daughter.

That's one way to get ahead.

- Hardly.

Connie and I hope to marry.

- Did anyone else
know about this?

- No. If her mother or father
had found out,

I would have been let go.

Relationships
between the performers

were strictly forbidden.

Can I go?

(both): Not yet.

- In previous days, in theatre,

actors tended to use
big gestures.

For instance,

if they wanted to convey fear,
they would do this.

(gasps)

Surprise like this.

(gasps)

Joy like this.

Hm.

Now you do it. Fear!

Now surprise!

As I said, that was back then.

Now we are tending much more
toward naturalism.

We rely on more subtle
facial expression,

often without words.

You should be able to convey
what you are thinking,

and your audience should know
what that is.

So, give it a try.

I give up.

What are you thinking?

- I was thinking about
some actor

getting familiar with my wife.

- You certainly did not show it.

- I suppose I'm not a very
expressive person.

- It is an actor's job

to share their emotions
with the audience,

to let them feel
what you are feeling.

- Well, how would they know
what I'm feeling?

- By allowing them
a piece of your soul.

I've marked a speech
in this play.

It's from The Tempest.
The character, Caliban,

is despised, barely seen
as human by his master.

Then, he gets to say
the most astonishing speech.

Before our next session,
I'd like you to start

practicing the lines
that I've underlined.

- Uh, this will help me get
into the moving pictures?

- Of course. The best foundation
for any acting work

is to master The Bard.

(clears throat)

- "Be not afeard...

The isle is full of noises,

sounds, and sweet airs,

that give delight and hurt not.

Sometimes a thousand...

twangling instruments
will hum about mine ears.

Huh?

- That's good for now.

So, could you tell me,
does Mrs. Newsome--

- Higgins-Newsome.

- Higgins-Newsome.

Does she subscribe
to the realist

or expressionistic
school of acting?

- Oh! Um...

Both?

- I see.

- What's to say that Armin

didn't slip out
and poison the vial?

It would take seconds.

Or Connie, for that matter.
They could be colluding.

- And why was the beard
the only item missing

out of the properties?

It's arguably
the most valuable one.

- Someone took it before
Armin stole the rest of them.

- Possibly.
- Someone who actually

believed it had
magical properties.

Well, that's bollocks.
Who'd believe that rubbish?

- They're actors, sir.
They're not like us.

- Take the next left around
this corner here, Constable.

- Oh, Miss Kwan. A word.

- Of course. Have you found
the missing props?

- Yes, we have.
- Can I have them back?

- They're evidence
in a murder investigation.

It's curious that you're more
concerned about them

than the death of Mr. Tooley.

- There's not much I can do
about the fact he's dead,

is there?

- Actually, there is, Miss Kwan.

We've been able to recover
all of the properties

with the exception
of Shakespeare's beard.

Why is that?

- How would I know?

- Well, taking charge
of the properties

is your exclusive
responsibility, is it not?

- It is.

- But you don't know
where the beard is.

Did you steal it?

We do need an answer.

We do have a nice
dark and damp jail cell waiting.

(sighs)

- Earlier in the day,

Connie asked if
she could borrow it.

- And where is she now?

- I'm not supposed to say.

- You are also supposed
to answer a policeman's question

when asked.

(sighs)

- She said she had an audition,

something to do with vaudeville.

(Vaudeville music)

(whistling)

(producer): Next!

(music stops)

Miss Courtland.

That was excellent.

- Really? No, thank you!

- Our show is looking
for a host.

Thank you. Next.

- A host? I would rather
be a performer.

- You would have five minutes
between acts

to whistle your little
heart away.

Many of our hosts move on
to become headliners.

- Could I?
- Mm.

Anything's possible.

It all depends whether or not
the audience likes you.

I told you before! No fire acts!

- Ugh!
- Next!

- That's a shame. I would've
liked to have seen that.

(upbeat piano music)

- Miss Courtland. A word please.

- We're in the middle
of something here.

Carry on.

- What do you want?

- We have some questions.

- Then ask them.

- Not here. We'd prefer

for you to come down
to the station house, please.

- The station house? Why?

- You're under suspicion
of killing your stepfather,

Donald Tooley.

- By whose direction found'st
thou out this place?'

- By love,

that first did prompt me
to inquire--

- Promptly.

- He lent me counsel,

and I lent him eyes.

- Thou knowest the mask of night
is on my face,

else would a maiden blush
bepaint my cheek

for that which thou hast
heard me speak tonight.

(inhales sharply)

Dost thou love me?

I know thou wilt say "Ay."

- Oi! Enough of the bad
Shakespeare. Knock it off.

Miss Courtland, after you.

(whistling)

- Watts, please find the owner
of the apothecary

and bring him here.

- Anon.

- And, Henry, go back to the inn

and conduct a more thorough
search of Miss Courtland's room.

- Of course, sir.
Uh, what am I looking for?

- The beard.
- Would the--

- Shh.

(mysterious music)

Mm-hmm...

Don't look like much.

Be not afeard.

The isle is full of noises,
sounds, and sweet airs,

that give delight and hurt not.

Sometimes a thousand
twangling instruments

will hum about mine ears--

- I would love to meet with you.

Yes, I am now free
of my previous obligations.

Thank you Mr. Deverill-Deverill.

I can meet with you
at your earliest convenience.

The motion pictures
are of great interest to me.

And I have heard that you are
looking for a leading man

for Ruth Newsome's new serial.

Yes.

Thank you so much.

Wonderful.

Wonderful news.
Thank you so much.

(whistling)

- Please stop that.

- You don't like my whistling?

- I like it. You're bloody good.

Do you know Skye Boat?
- Sir?

- Murdoch, sometimes you just
have to enjoy the performance.

- Both Detective Watts
and Constable Higgins

are back, sir.

- Thank the Lord
for small mercies.

- Skye Boat.

(whistling)

- Chief Constable.

- Here it is. Uh...

There's something
odd about it, sir.

- Why, yes, Henry.

It possesses magical powers.

- Something like that.

- Is this the beard then? Hm.

Reminds me of why I got rid
of the old ginger growler,

magic powers or not.

- We're all grateful.
- Right.

- Ah, sir.
There's one more thing.

You may want to have
a look at this, as well.

- What is it?
- It's a contract of some sort.

I thought it might be important.

- Oh! Indeed.

Ah, keep hold of this.
- Sir.

- Mr. Trivelle,
we're ready for you.

- It's about time.

- Right this way.

- And this can be used
on plants as well as humans?

- Well?
- I'm not sure.

- Please put the beard on.

(sighs)

- Yes... yes.

Sure enough,
that is the very person

who bought the henbane.

Well, if I had known
it was a person in disguise,

I certainly wouldn't have
sold it to them.

(Murdoch): Right.
Thank you, sir.

Miss Courtland,

you purchased henbane tincture

from Mr. Trivelle's apothecary.

- I did.
- Why?

- To kill your stepfather?
- No. I loved my stepfather.

- Then why the henbane?

- I had heard ingesting henbane

can give you
the sensation of flying.

- And why would you do that?

- Well, I was to play the part
of Ariel in our next play,

and she has to fly
on a bat's wing.

So, I wanted to experience
in my body

what that would feel like.

- And what about the disguise?

- Well, I didn't want
my stepfather to find out.

He was strict about us
not using any false stimulants,

as he calls it.

He insisted that our acting

must not come
from unnatural sources.

- He was a hard taskmaster.

(scoffs)

- I suppose.

- Then what about this?

It's a contract between
yourself and Donald Tooley.

It binds your professional
exclusivity

for the next five years,
and you are to remain single.

- All the members of the troupe
had to sign the same contract.

- But only you and Armin
were in a relationship.

- We are not.

- Are you sure?
- Mm-hmm.

- Because he seems to believe
that you are to be wed.

- Something that had
to be kept secret

while your father was alive.

- Stepfather.

- But with him dead,

you two could pursue
your dreams.

You could join the vaudeville,

marry Armin,
and bring him along.

- Or stay behind

and be part of his dying dream.

- All that may be true,
but we did not kill him.

I, I swear!
I loved my stepfather!

- Even though he stole
your chance at happiness?

- Well, he's dead now.

Do I look very happy to you?

- So you think Romeo and Juliet
killed the stepfather

so they could be together?

- I don't believe
she was involved in that.

And he seemed sincere.

- Mm. "One may smile
and smile and be a villain."

- Sir?
- Ah. It's from Hamlet.

It's what Hamlet says
when he discovered

who killed his father.

Hamlet's uncle, Claudius,

pretended to be all sweetness
and light, but, eh.

(knocking)

- Constable Roberts,
what have you?

- Pardon me, sir?

- What have you found for me?

- Right. It's an arrest report

from the Hamilton police,
three years ago.

- What's in it?

- I believe they call it motive.

- You're a cheeky sort,
aren't you, Roberts?

- He's fine.

- Three years ago,

you had a physical altercation
with your stepfather.

- I did.
- Why?

- At the time, I believed
he killed my father.

- What do you believe now?

- Answer the detective.

- I think there are still
questions regarding his death.

- Your real father
was a gentleman

named John Courtland.

- He was.

- This file goes into
some detail

about your altercation
with Mr. Tooley,

but it says nothing
of how your real father died.

What happened?

- They say it was an accident.

- And you don't believe that?

- It was three years ago.

Donald Tooley had just
joined the troupe.

He was an accomplished actor,

and my father believed he would
be of great benefit to us.

My real father
was a trusting man.

- You feel this trust
was misplaced?

- Tooley had eyes for my mother.

I could see it,
everyone could.

- So you think he killed
your father

so he could take up
with your mother?

- Mr. Tooley and my father
went for a walk.

They were going to discuss
the future

of my father's troupe.

- But they didn't see
eye to eye?

- Tooley believed
in Shakespeare.

But my father had become
increasingly interested

in other forms
of entertainment.

- And you think Tooley
had eyes for your mother?

- I could see the way
he looked at her,

on more than one occasion.

My father never returned
from that walk.

They found him dead
at the bottom

of the Scarborough Bluffs.

- You think Tooley pushed him?

- We'll never know, will we?

Those two will have to face
each other in another life.

- I assume your mother
didn't share your suspicions.

- Well, Donald could be
very charming

when he wanted to be.

It didn't take long
to sweep her off her feet.

Father had been dead only
a few months when they married.

- That must have been hard
to live with,

knowing that the man
who killed your father

was now married to your mother.

- If I wanted to kill him,

I would have killed him then.

- And what of your sister?

You love her, yes?

- Of course.

- She wanted out of the troupe,
didn't she?

She wanted to spread her wings,

begin a new life,

and Mr. Tooley wasn't about
to let her do that.

- Well, she doesn't
have to worry about that

anymore, does she?

- No. And neither do you.

You are also going to leave

and, uh, take up
the moving pictures.

- According to who?

One of our constables
overheard your conversation

with a Mr. Deverill-Deverill,

a moving picture producer.

Ah, you arranged
to meet with him.

- And now with Tooley's death,

you and your sister can make
your dreams come true.

I'd be tempted to do the same
thing, wouldn't you, Murdoch?

- 'Tis one thing to be tempted,

another thing to fall.

And I did not fall.

- So, what do you think,
Murdoch?

- Allen, Connie, Armin.

One of those three did it.

- But not enough evidence
to charge any of them.

(Mrs. Tooley): I will
speak to him!

- Mrs. Tooley.

- You are holding my son
and daughter in your cells,

along with another member
of my troupe.

I would like them
to be released.

- Even though one of them
more than likely

killed your husband?

- None of those three did that!

Charge them or release them,

or I shall have
a lawyer charge you.

- What happened to,
"Let's kill all the lawyers"?

- Sometimes The Bard is wrong.

Sometimes lawyers
are not without their uses.

So, do you intend
to charge them?

- Not at this point.
- Then let them out!

We have a show to perform!

- You're going to continue?

- Well, of course we are.

It is what Donald
would have wanted.

I'm next in line to be
in charge of this troupe,

and I intend to honour
his legacy.

The Troubadours will not
be disbanded.

Not while I live and breathe.

- Tell me again,
where we are going?

- I am telling Allen
that he will not be leading

my wife into the boudoir.

Henry Higgins will not
be played for a fool.

- Why do you need me?

- Well, to show that
I won't be trifled with.

(explosion)

(gasps)

- Holy snakes!

(suspenseful music)

- Dear God! Call the fire
department. Now!

(Miss Kwan screaming)

- Help! I'm stuck! Please help!

I'm stuck! Please!

(screaming)

Thank you.

- What happened?

- I don't know.
I could have been killed.

(gasps)

(indistinct chatter)

- It's all over.

It's all done.

- Perhaps it's for the best.

- We never should have come
to this wretched city.

But I will not let
our dream die.

- But mother--
- Shakespeare is in our soul,

not our possessions.

- I don't know what happened.

I'd gone into the wagon
to organize

the backdrops for the next show.

And then before I could get out,

I was surrounded
by a wall of fire.

Your constable saved my life.

- And you saw
no one else out here?

- Not a soul. I...

- Do you require
medical attention?

- No, no, I'm, I'm fine.

But look at this!

Everything is gone
except for what was left

in the tent. May I?

- Of course.

- You know who else is gone?
(Kwan): Have you recovered--?

- Mr. Allen Courtland
is nowhere to be found.

- Mm.

- ...find something.

Do we know how it started?

- Bit early in the morning
for that, wouldn't you say?

- No, I wouldn't.

- Petrol. Did you set the fire?

- 'Tis pity 'tis true.

- You don't deny it?
- Mm.

- You could have killed someone.

- I didn't know that Dora
was inside the wagon.

Look, I swear.

I thank the Lord that your man
got her out in time.

- And saved you
from a murder charge.

- Why did you do it?

- I thought that by destroying
the troupe's possessions,

I could make my mother
disband us,

and for once and for all,

I could be free
to do what I want to do.

- But instead, she chose
to honour your father's wishes.

- He was not my father!

- You're a grown man.
Why didn't you leave?

- It would have destroyed her

if she thought
that I abandoned her.

- And killing her husband
is fine in your books.

- I did not kill Tooley.

I did what I was instructed
to do.

I didn't know there was
henbane in that vial.

- Why should we believe you?

- I will admit to crimes
I committed,

but not to the ones I didn't.

Do your damnedest, sir.

I don't care anymore.

This world is stale
and unprofitable to me.

That's Hamlet.

- This is ridiculous.
We have no props,

no sets, no actors,
not even the proper weapons.

- The world is our stage, Armin,

and we perform
with what is provided.

It is our lot.

(grunting)

Very good. But you look awkward.

(grunting)

- What are you doing
with my brother?

- He admitted to setting
the wagon on fire.

- Good Lord. Why?

- You're not the only one

who wanted to be free
of the troupe.

- We'd like to speak
with your mother.

- Please do.
- Where is she?

- In the tent with Armin

practising the final duel
from Hamlet.

- Bloody hell.

- What is it?
- Well, the final duel

is between Laertes and Hamlet.

They both die.

- Look like you belong!

Look like you're an actor!

And not a clown and a buffoon.

A man who surely does not
deserve the hand of my daughter.

(grunts)

- You knew?
- Of course I knew.

And I cannot allow you
to ruin my daughter's future!

- Argh!

(grunting)

(suspenseful music)

- My husband's dream is dead.

As mine is as well.

But my daughter's life
will not be destroyed

by the likes of you.

- I love her. And she loves me.

- She's a child
and you're a fool.

- Mother, no!

- Let me do it!
Just please let me do it!

- Are you all right?
(Brackenreid): That is enough!

- It wasn't just Donald's dream.
It was mine.

If the troupe disbanded,
I would lose

both my son and daughter.

And I had already lost
their father.

- You don't believe
your daughter had the right

to decide her own future?

- Not with a man
unworthy of her.

No woman deserves that!

But we settle.

We always settle.

- How do you mean?

- I married a man who was weak.

- I thought your daughter
purchased this.

- She did.

I found it in her room.

Just shortly before
the performance.

- Ladies and gentlemen.

Welcome to our show.

Tooley's Troubadours
at your service.

- So you intended
for this to happen?

- I only wanted time.

Time for him to think,
time for him to reconsider.

- What do you mean?

- He told me he'd come
to a decision.

He was going to allow
Allen and Connie to leave.

He was going
to disband the troupe.

- You told me he was
the one dedicated to this.

- Well, he was.
I thought he was.

But he was tired.

Tired of half-empty houses,

tired of pursuing his dream
with people who didn't share it!

- So you made the decision
to kill him?

- I expected he would sleep
for a few days.

I didn't know the henbane
would kill him.

I swear, I didn't know!

- I will be seeking charges
in the death of your husband.

- Well, do what you must.

I have lost my family.

My son and daughter
will scatter in the winds.

- And chart their own course.

I'll be petitioning
for leniency.

I don't believe
your mother intended

to kill your stepfather.

- And you say he was going
to grant us our wishes?

- Yes. She said that Mr. Tooley
intended to disband the troupe.

- Yes.

But we're not.

- We have decided
to stay together

for the foreseeable future,
form a new troupe.

We will be performing
Shakespeare alongside

other entertainments,
like clowning, jigs, whistling.

(giggling)

- Where will you go?
- We're going to Stratford,

same as The Bard's home.

- Isn't that in the middle
of farm country?

How will you find
a theatre in the middle

of a load of fields?
And who'll come?

- Well,

we're planning
to build one ourselves.

- They'll come.

Until then,
we'll satisfy ourselves

with Mr. Bahn's tent.

- Head on out.
There's still lots to do here.

(engine starts)

- Mr. Bahn will be joining us.

- Ah! So, the innkeeper
has caught the theatre bug?

- Perhaps, but I believe
it's Dora who's caught his eye.

- We'll be right behind you.

- Ah. Well,
best of luck to you all.

- Thanks.

Thanks.

And ever thanks.

(whistling)

♪ When that I was
a little tiny boy ♪

♪ With a hey, ho
the wind and the rain ♪♪

- You've given up your dreams
of the silver screen, Henry?

- The motion picture studio
has killed the project.

- Why?

- They say no one will want

to watch the adventures
of a married couple.

- You know,
there are many things

that Henry Higgins
is very, very good at,

but...

I don't think acting
is one of them.

- Hm.

(soft mysterious music)

(door opens and closes)

(Armin): It is said
it confers magical powers

when used by an actor.

(mystical music)

- Our revels now are ended.

These, our actors,

as I foretold you,

were all spirits,

and are melted into air,

into thin air.

Huh.

(theme music)

Subtitling: difuze