Original subtitles

Oh, my God. Fucking hell.

Fucking bastards!

Come on, you fuck...

Mikey, get down! Mikey! Mikey!

- I'm hit, Charlie. I'm hit! - You'll be all right, Mikey. Hold strong.

You'll not hang me alive, you bastards!

Do I need to introduce myself?

I know who you are.

Good.

I know who you are.

My brother's taken a bullet, Stanley, and is in need of medical attention.

Well, allow me to address the subject of your brother, Mr Burns.

Christmas, as you're probably aware, is fast approaching.

And Christmas this year will hold a unique significance for young Mickey here.

Mikey.

Because on Christmas Day,

I have made plans that he be taken from the jail in Banyon

and hanged by the neck until he is dead.

Charlie!

You're a copper, Stanley, not a judge and jury.

Well, clearly, Mr Burns, I am what I wish to be.

- So what is it that you want? - I want Arthur Burns.

I no longer ride with me brother.

Now, I will allow you a moment to think about it.

What's happening, Charlie?

It's all right, Mikey.

It's all right.

Australia.

What fresh hell is this?

I have kept company with bad men all my life.

I was 22 years in Her Majesty's Land Forces.

I've dealt with your type many times.

Touch me brother again, and I'll kill you.

Make no mistakes, Mr Burns.

It will be done.

I will civilise this place.

What the fuck are you talking about, Stanley?

Listen to me now, Charlie. Don't speak.

Hush, Mikey. You'll be fine.

Hush.

I wish to present you with a proposition.

I know where Arthur Burns is.

In his godforsaken place.

The blacks won't go there, nor the trackers.

Not even my own men.

I suppose, in time, the bounty hunters will get him.

But I have other plans.

I aim to bring him down.

I aim to show that he is a man like any other.

I aim to hurt him.

When you're ready, sir.

And what will most hurt him?

Well, I thought long and hard about that.

And I have realised, Mr Burns,

that I must become a little more inventive in my methods.

Now, don't speak, Mr Burns. Listen to me now.

Don't say a word.

Now, suppose I told you there was a way

to save your little brother Mikey from the noose?

Suppose I gave you a horse and a gun?

Suppose, Mr Burns,

I was to give both you

and your young brother Mikey here

a pardon?

Suppose I said that I could give you the chance to expunge the guilt

beneath which you so clearly labour?

Suppose I gave you till Christmas?

Now, suppose you tell me what it is I want from you?

You want me to kill me brother?

I want you to kill your brother.

Arthur Burns is a monster.

An abomination.

You were right to part company with him, to take Mikey with you.

What happened at the Hopkins place was unforgivable.

I have never seen such a sickening sight.

Did you know that that poor woman, Eliza Hopkins, had a child in her belly?

Your business with your brother is unfinished.

You have nine days, Mr Burns.

Come on, let's hit them.

Bastards!

You got him!

Pigs!

Who have you got?

Troopers! Dismount!

The man I have brought in

is Mike Burns, of the Burns Gang.

So that's one down and two to go, gentlemen.

Gotta get him to get the other ones now.

I will civilise this land.

Make yourself at home, Mikey.

- Good Evening to you, Mrs Stanley. - Good Evening, Mr Broussard.

Not so fucking dangerous now, is he?

Martha?

Good evening, gentlemen.

- Good evening, Mrs Stanley. - Good evening.

You should really not come here.

Cannot a lady visit her husband in his place of work?

You men wait outside.

We spoke about why you shouldn't come here.

- This is not appropriate... - Morris, you've been gone for three days.

It's lonely up there at the house.

It's so quiet without you.

- Are you coming home now? - Well, I have things to attend to.

I'll have Officer Dunn escort you home. I'll be back soon.

You look terrible, Morris.

Yes.

Yes, I do.

Dunn!

Who is that?

But he is no more than a boy.

Well, he's man enough, ma'am. He's man enough indeed.

Enough.

Escort Mrs Stanley home and wait there until I return.

- How long will you be, dear? - Later.

Never speak to my wife about such things again. Do you understand?

My apologies, Captain.

What happened today on the Flats, that's between you and me.

Of course, sir.

Because there would be consequences were it to become common knowledge.

Yes.

Eliza Hopkins was a good Christian woman.

And she was my friend.

I pray to God that her death was mercifully swift.

It was, wasn't it?

Martha, can we speak of other things?

Come here, Captain Stanley.

My poor husband.

The world you live in, in there.

Don't be gloomy, dear.

This burden you carry,

you might let me carry it, too.

I believe in you.

Stay down. Stay in bed.

What in God's name...

Christ, sir.

I've shot me bloody toes off.

There's nothing to see here, Martha, go back to bed.

Officer Dunn has shot his...

Martha, go back inside.

Bloody flies!

Kill one and a dozen more turn up to his funeral.

Oh, Danny Boy

The flies, the flies are crawling

A thousand pardons, my dear man.

It appears that I am a little scuppered.

No, no need for that, sir. No need for that.

We are white men, you and I.

Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Jellon Lamb.

Citizen of the world, you might say, an adventurer,

and if I may be so bold, a man of no little education.

And you, sir?

By what name am I honoured to address thee?

Of course, a mere detail.

Mere detail.

Forgive me, sir, but I've been stuck here

with no one but this sorry sack of Hibernian pig shit for conversation.

Poor, poor Dan O'Reilly.

Sit, sir. Drink with me.

One more crack about the Irish, Mr Lamb,

and I'll shoot you.

- Am I clear? - Oh, as the waters of Ennis, sir.

Let us drink, then, to the Irish.

No finer race of men hath ever

peeled a potato.

- Do you pray, Mr Lamb? - Good lord, son. No, I do not!

I was, in days gone by, a believer.

But, alas, I came to this beleaguered land,

and the God in me just

evaporated.

Let us change our toast, sir.

To the god who has forgotten us!

The first, cardinal rule:

Never raise a glass with a man whose name you do not know.

My name is Charles Murphy.

Charles, eh?

Perhaps you've read

On the Origin of the Species by Means of Natural Selection by Charles Darwin?

Oh, don't be thrown by the title, he had some most fascinating things to say.

Chilling things.

Mr Darwin spent time studying Aboriginals.

He claims we are, at bottom,

one and the same!

He infers, Mr Murphy,

that we share a common ancestry with monkeys.

Monkeys!

Mr Murphy! Russia, China, the Congo...

"Oh, I have travelled among unknown people

"in lands beyond the seas!"

But nothing,

nothing could have prepared me for this godforsaken hole.

You see, Mr Murphy,

I am something of a fortune hunter.

And what fortune do you hunt out here, Mr Lamb?

That would be my question to you, Mr Murphy.

Don't fuck with me.

Unhand me, Murphy, or I'll slit your fucking throat.

We are white men, sir.

Not beasts.

He sits up there in those melancholy hills.

Some say he sleeps in caves like a beast,

slumbers deep like the Kraken.

The blacks say that he's a spirit.

The troopers will never catch him.

Common force is meaningless, Mr Murphy,

as he squats up there on his impregnable perch.

So I wait, Mr Murphy.

I wait.

Aye, you wait.

You wait here, bounty hunter.

- Hang him, sir. - Hang him high, sir.

Hail the conquering hero.

What a vile specimen of humanity.

What a little piece of filth.

Not really the one that we're looking for, though, is it, Captain?

Well, in the end, justice will be done.

"Justice."

Save your little wisdoms for the mob, Stanley.

Has he told you where his brothers are?

With due respect, Mr Fletcher,

perhaps it would be wise to allow police work

to be done by policemen.

What a little piece of filth.

Still, better than nothing, I suppose.

- Good evening, Captain. - Good evening.

"When?" said the moon to the stars in the sky

"Soon," said the wind that followed him home

"Who?" said the cloud that started to cry

... said the rider, dry as a bone

Your roses are looking lovely.

I've got green thumbs, I have.

I was just thinking about England.

Do you not miss it, Martha?

There's much to miss, there and here.

Let's get rid of that headache.

Now, Captain Stanley,

eat your breakfast before the flies do.

Made by me own fair hands, them eggs.

Me eggs have never tasted so fine, Mum.

You're a good man, Morris.

And you're a good woman, Martha.

- Do we have company? - Yes, I'm afraid we do.

Captain!

Excuse me, ma'am. Excuse me, sir.

- Martha, would you excuse us? - It's fine, Morris.

No, Martha, please. This is police business.

How dare you come to my house in that state?

- Sir. - What exactly do you want?

We just got back from the Arooka Ranges, sir.

We rounded up six rebel blacks, sir. Sean killed one.

Thought you'd want to know about it straightaway.

Captain?

Captain?

No, leave the door open, it's rank in here.

Yes, sir.

Are you sure you put enough iron on these men, Sergeant?

They have been adequately secured, sir.

- Jacko, get over here. - Yes, Captain, sir.

Ask them how long they've been hiding up in the ranges.

He says they are very tired.

Well, you'll have a nice, long rest

if you don't open your fucking mouth and start yapping, you black bastards!

Sergeant.

Wait outside.

Wait outside the door.

I'll call you if and when I need you.

Ask them again

how long they've been hiding up in the ranges.

Captain, sir, he said they don't hide in the ranges.

They live in the ranges.

Well, then ask him how long they have lived in the ranges.

Them always been living in the ranges, Captain, sir.

Ask him if they've seen a white man up there.

Yes, Captain, sir. I'll ask them.

They seen white men. White men catches them.

Jesus Christ.

I don't mean the police.

This man...

This man.

A man with this man.

A white man.

This man. This man.

Ask him...

Fellow in the picture,

he live in a cave.

Dog man.

Big fella.

He said dog man never sleep.

He sit there all day.

Sit down in a cave, way up.

He live with small fella and black fella.

Cannot catch him.

Cannot kill him.

He's dog.

What? He eats dog?

No, Captain, sir. He is dog.

He changed to dog.

He grows ears.

He grow teeth. Sharp.

And he grows a tail, this way.

Long.

And he stand with two leg, like this, and he goes...

Sergeant!

Sergeant!

"When?" said the moon to the stars in the sky

"Soon," said the wind that followed him home

"Who?" said the cloud that started to cry

"Me," said the rider, dry as a bone

"How?" said the sun that melted the ground

"Why?" said the river that refused to run

"Where?" said the thunder without a sound

"Here," said the rider and took up his gun

Captain is weak. A weak man.

So you reckon he's weak, eh, Lawrence?

Cocksucker. Fucking cocksucker.

Come out here to sort out the niggers? Fuck him. He's done nothing.

Those black bastards, they're running all over us.

They chose the wrong man for the job.

'Cause this isn't London. It's not England. This is fucking Australia.

Did I say I wanted to fuck Captain's wife?

Oh, will you go back to sleep, Paul? For God's sake.

I would like to fuck his wife.

Yeah, well, if I was married to that bucket of pig's tripe you call a fucking wife,

I'd want to fuck her, too.

I want to fuck his wife.

- I want to fuck his wife. - Oh, I could fuck her so.

Yeah, all right, we all want to fuck Mrs Stanley.

She certainly isn't getting anything from the good Captain, is she?

And you know why?

Oh, because he's weak.

He's got other things on his mind.

Because he really fucked up this time.

He got the boy, yeah, but he let the other one go.

Fix him right up.

Got good medicine. Fix him no time good.

Gonna need sleep. Gonna need rest.

No cry, daddy.

That'll go on good and clean.

Going to need sleep. Going to need rest.

Good Afternoon, Mr Broussard.

Remember to save a turkey for me.

Of course, Mrs Stanley.

Is everything all right?

Go home, you stupid cow.

I'm sorry, what did you say?

Mrs Stanley, perhaps you better ask your husband.

Shut up, dog.

Holy Mother of Mercy.

Look who's raised himself from the dead.

Him much better now. Him much better because I fixed him.

He don't look better to me.

You know, Samuel, the thing I relished the most while I was away

was not having to see your fucking face all the time.

If it weren't for me and my crack shooting, you'd be fucking dingo dinner.

Thirty yards away, I was.

Blew that black bastard's head right off.

It was beautiful.

So a bit of respect,

or I might just have to shoot you

with my new Winchester.

Fuck! That hurt!

- Oh, Charlie. - Go easy, there.

It's all right, Charlie.

Do you want to know why I've come back?

I know why you've come back, Charlie.

Look at that.

Be humble of heart, Charlie. This is the end of things.

You're my brother, Charlie. You belong with me.

We are a family. All of us.

Yeah, I was just getting reacquainted.

Samuel? Oh, be kind.

A little tolerance, Charlie.

Samuel's a boy.

He's a vicious little cretin.

Where's Mikey, Charlie?

Mikey stayed behind in Clarence.

You left Mikey alone?

He met a girl.

Mikey met a girl?

Aye. Mikey met a girl.

- What's her name, Charlie? - Molly.

- Molly. - Molly O'Boyle.

Molly O'Boyle.

- A redheaded Colleen, no doubt. - Aye. Red.

Like the sunset?

Like the sunset.

What does she do, this Molly O'Boyle?

I'm feeling a bit tired right now, Arthur.

Is she a farmer's daughter? Can she cook a good lamb stew?

Would you just stop it?

Mikey's not the same stuff as us.

We've flung to the depths, you and I.

He worships you, you know.

There was a time we both did.

Mikey deserves better.

You were right to leave,

take him with you.

I need to rest.

Mary O'Boyle?

Molly, Arthur. Molly.

Molly. Molly.

Right. Molly.

Fuck.

Mikey.

Mikey.

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Five cats a-flogging

Four nooses swinging

Three crows a-pecking

Two dogs a-pissing

And little Mikey hanging from a pear tree

Only five more days to go, Mikey.

Martha?

Martha.

When Sergeant Lawrence said

that the boy that you are holding at the lock-up was "man enough,"

what did he mean by that?

Sergeant Lawrence is an ignorant thug

with the moral fortitude of a snake. Just disregard...

What did he mean?

What did the boy do?

He's a member of the Burns Gang.

There are certain things that a woman shouldn't be privy to.

- I know that, and I asked you a question. - And I asked you not to visit me in my...

- Just tell me what he did to Eliza. - Enough!

- She was my friend! - Enough!

That's enough.

Headache, Captain Stanley?

So what can I do for you, Mr Fletcher?

Word has it that your men captured half a dozen rebel blacks, two days ago.

And that one was shot in the process.

And do you have a problem with that?

Yes, Captain, I do.

Word came this morning from Eight Mile Creek

that Dan O'Reilly's place was attacked.

Are you sure it was blacks?

Dan O'Reilly had so many spears in him

that he resembled your good old garden-variety English hedgehog.

It's simple, Captain. It's called the Law of Reciprocity.

Kill one of them, and they're going to kill one of ours.

Do the job I brought you here to do.

If you have to kill one,

make sure you bloody well kill them all.

Well, I'll send some troopers out today.

Is our business here finished?

- I'm going to have Mike Burns flogged. - What?

One hundred lashes.

Martha.

Thank you.

I thought you gentlemen might like a little tea.

Please, sit down.

Thank you, Martha, that would be lovely.

Thank you, Martha.

Is there anything else I can get you?

No, thank you, Martha, this is lovely.

Well, then, I'll leave you two gentlemen alone.

A clever and well-bred woman, your wife.

You did well for yourself, Captain.

Word has it that you had Charlie Burns

and you let him go.

Word has it that you offered him some kind of deal.

Tell me this isn't so, Captain.

Word has it

that you promised those animals who raped Eliza Hopkins a pardon

if Charlie Burns brought back his brother.

A pardon for the annihilation of the Hopkins family!

Are you completely out of your mind?

Listen to me.

Mike Burns is a simpleton.

He spends all day in his cell crying like a child.

It is my belief that he is not responsible for his actions.

I'm not interested in your beliefs, Captain Stanley.

Who do you think you are, the judge and the jury?

Arthur Burns must be stopped.

It is he who is responsible for this outrage.

And I know that Charlie Burns will stop at nothing

to protect his younger brother, Mike.

So all we need do now is wait.

Wait?

My God, man, they raped a woman!

Tomorrow morning, I want Mike Burns flogged.

As I said, 100 lashes.

- This will kill him. - So be it.

What if I'm right?

What if Charlie Burns does as I ask?

What if he comes back?

Then we will hang the lot of them.

Good day.

Martha.

Martha, stay here.

Do not let anyone in. I shall return tomorrow.

Martha! Do you hear me?

Please. Stay here.

What's going on in here?

Well, I believe Officer Davenport and Officer Matthews

have been entertaining the prisoner, sir.

- Is that right, Sergeant? - Yes, sir.

- Well, I've got a job for you. - Yes, sir.

You have unfinished business in the Arooka Ranges.

Sir?

Rebel blacks, Sergeant.

Within two hours, you must find Jacko

and recruit some more troopers,

and depart.

Fucking snake.

Why are you still standing there?

You've been dismissed.

Where's Charlie, Mr Stanley?

I don't know, son. I don't know.

Captain?

Captain.

Bring him out, Stanley!

- Michael Burns. - Who?

Let's see him, Stanley!

Give him to us, Stanley!

Bring him out, Stanley.

Stand aside, Stanley.

We want justice.

I'll shoot the first person who lays hands on Mike Burns.

Give him to us.

You heard me. You move, I'll shoot you dead.

Are you going to shoot your wife as well, Captain?

Martha?

She was with child, for God's sake.

Martha, if this flogging goes ahead,

it will be our death sentence.

What if it had been me?

- Come on, you bastard. - Captain Stanley?

- Help me! - Get up, Mikey!

Get up for your bloody whooping!

Come on!

Go back!

- Get off of me! Get off of me! - Stay still!

My good people,

before you stands

one of the vilest,

most bloodthirsty villains this country has ever seen.

Rapist,

looter,

murderer.

His crimes are of the most heinous kind.

Before the year is out, this man will hang.

Today, he will be flogged.

A message to all who dare transgress the laws of this land.

One hundred lashes.

Proceed.

One!

Captain, please!

Two!

Three!

Please!

He could shame a nightingale.

Thirty-eight.

Thirty-nine.

Go on.

Your days are over, Captain Stanley.

Martha, come on.

Martha, you must eat.

Tobey's made you some soup.

Here you go.

This is good.

You must eat something, Martha, please.

No.

No.

I'm so sorry.

Forgive me, please.

I just wanted to protect you.

I had an idea about justice, and...

For the town, for the country.

For you.

For you.

And now,

I don't know.

Hey, quit pissing down me leg.

Well, find your own fucking tree!

What do you need a fucking tree for? Just piss on Daniel, not on me!

Fuck off! Don't piss on me, you idiot!

Strange mob, you whities.

Good news.

Sergeant Lawrie?

- Over there. - What?

Where?

See it?

Hard to see it.

At foot of the Ranges.

Well, I can't see a bloody thing.

There!

What?

Smoke.

Love.

Love is the key.

Love and family.

For what are night and day,

the sun, the moon, the stars,

without love

and those you love around you?

What could be more hollow

than to die alone,

unloved?

What the fuck was that?

Fucking trooper's rifle. Four-fiftys.

- Shooting blacks. - Be calm, Samuel.

The shots are miles away.

Burn it!

Burn the fucking lot!

Don't stand there moping.

What are you doing?

Burn everything!

Molly O'Boyle, my arse.

Who the fuck left Danny-boy out in the sun?

Hey, Jacko, you lazy bugger.

I told you to bury that bastard last night.

He stinks worse than you.

Jacko!

You got the wrong fucking black man.

Slowly, now, Sergeant.

Put your privates back in your pants and turn around.

Come to steal my brother a horse,

and we find ourselves a copper.

You fire that gun, you'll have eight more all over you.

Fair enough.

Step into the shade, Sergeant. To the back.

Has Charlie found you, then?

Stanley's little mate.

Over there.

By the straw.

Good boy. That's right, stay.

Lay down, Sergeant.

Move. Right now. Come here.

I know something you don't know.

Now, Sergeant,

what?

Your brother's come to kill you.

- I can help. - You can help me?

Help your fucking self!

Copper.

Here's your knife back, you dog.

There's something I want to tell you.

I've been having a dream. Most nights.

I've kept it from you.

But I don't suppose it matters now.

I'm in a room.

It's our bedroom, I think.

And I'm searching for something.

And then suddenly, I feel a presence in the room.

And I stand up, and I turn around,

and there in the doorway is Eliza Hopkins.

And she looks frightful.

Her dress is all creased and torn

and covered in blood, and her face, too.

All battered and bruised, and splashed with blood.

- Martha. - But listen to this.

In her arms, she's holding something.

I can't see what it is

because it's covered by her hair.

And then she walks towards me,

very slowly.

Then

she hands me a tiny bundle.

And I look down,

and I see that it's a baby,

a newborn.

And this baby... Oh, it's a beautiful baby, Morris.

And it opens its eyes,

and then

I feel a pressure on my hand, and I look down,

and I see that the baby has taken hold of my finger

and it's squeezing it tight in its tiny fist.

And then I wake up.

But after I wake, it's the strangest thing.

I can still feel the pressure of that dream baby's hand

on my finger.

What do you think of that?

Good boy!

Nice and tight, eh?

Right.

Up we get!

No, I wouldn't try that if I were you.

Ligatures and knots are one of my many talents.

Right.

And it appears that you are singularly bereft in any talents whatsoever, Mr Burns.

To be speared by a savage?

How extraordinarily quaint!

Easy, Mr Burns.

I was drunk. You only got me because I was drunk.

Well, I'm not drunk now. I'm on the job now.

Not a bad day's work, either.

For what is an Irishman but a nigger turned inside out?

Now, we're going to sit down

on this log.

Nice and easy, Mr Burns.

There!

I really should stop saving your life, brother Charlie,

all things considered.

"There's night and day, brother

"Both sweet things

"The sun and the moon and the stars are all sweet things

"Likewise,

"there's a wind on the heath

"Life is very sweet, brother..."

"'Life is very sweet, brother

"Who would wish to die?"

George Borrow, I believe.

A worthy writer, and a beautiful sentiment, sir.

But you're not my brother.

Finish him.

Oh, dear.

This may hurt.

Why can't you ever just stop me?

They're hanging Mikey come Christmas Day.

When's Christmas, Charlie?

- I have some riding to do. - Brother!

Where did you get it?

I'm a very resourceful woman.

I never doubted it for a moment.

- Look real good, Missus. - Thank you, Tobey.

And...

And look.

Snow.

"Ho, ho, ho!"

Ho, ho, ho.

- Who is it? - Dr Bantrey.

Are you alone?

Yes.

Then you may come in.

It doesn't look good, Morris. The boy is dying.

Nothing that I can do.

It sure is pretty.

You can never get your fill of nature, Samuel.

To be surrounded by it is to be stilled.

It salves the heart.

The mountains, the trees, the endless plains.

The moon, the myriad of stars.

Every man can be made quiet and complete.

Even the lowliest misanthrope or the most wretched of sinners.

What's a misanthrope, Arthur?

Some bugger who fucking hates every other bugger.

Hey! I didn't ask you, you black bastard.

He's right, Samuel. A misanthrope is one who hates humanity.

Is that what we are? Misanthropes?

Good lord, no. We're a family.

"Adieu," said the bird in the branch of a tree

"Farewell," said the snake to the dying light

"Adieu," said the fish in the river of sleep

"Goodbye," said the rider "Goodbye and good night"

"No," said the stars to the moon and the sky

"No," said the trees that started to moan

"No," said the dust that blinded his eyes

"Yes," said the rider and pointed his gun

Best you go now, Tobey.

Tobey.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Captain.

Prisoner coming through!

Prisoner coming through!

Stand back, ladies and gentlemen, this black fellow bites!

Keep moving, you murdering bloody bastard!

'Tis the jailhouse for you!

You led us a merry, bloody dance for many days.

But, alas for you, you dirty mongrel, we've got you.

How am I doing?

You're doing just fine, Sergeant Stoat.

Keep moving, you dusty devil! Don't lag!

And keep your lustful eyes to the ground, you lecherous dog,

or I'll whip the filthy black hide right off you!

Good morning, miss.

What's happened?

I don't know.

It must be some of Lawrence's lot.

- Go! Fast! - Holy shit! Oh, God!

Mikey. Mikey!

- Hey! This one's pissed himself! - No!

Where are the keys, you bastards?

Give me the fucking keys!

Please! Don't hurt me! Please!

Mikey!

Mikey!

Mikey, it's all right.

Will you shut him up, Charlie?

Mikey! Mikey! Mikey!

It's Charlie!

Two Bob.

- I think the job is fucking done. - Two Bob, you fucking yellow dog!

Come on, fucking bitches, in you go!

- Arthur? - Arthur!

I'll see you at the good Captain's. We'll save the best till last.

Get!

Stand back!

Get!

You look grand, Samuel.

Well, we're going visiting.

That's right.

It's all your fault, Charlie. You should never have left us.

- Would you like me to carve? - No. No, no, no.

I'll carve.

Finest bird I ever had, Mum.

Made with me own fair hands.

Thank you.

For what we are about to receive,

may the Lord make us truly thankful.

- Amen. - Amen.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Guard the woman, Samuel.

Shit!

Move out of your seat again, ma'am,

and I'll stick this fork through your fucking eye.

Shut up.

I said, shut up.

It's Christmas.

What does that say?

"To my darling wife,

"whom I love so much.

"I'm sorry."

Sorry for what?

Oh, ma'am, they're beautiful.

Never seen anything so beautiful.

- Samuel! - That's us.

Get up.

You won't want to miss this, Captain.

Samuel, sing us Peggy Gordon.

Charlie. Just in time.

Mikey's dead.

Listen to that.

He sings like a bird.

Not the gut, Charlie.

Shit.

No more.

I'm going to be with me brother.

You got me, Charlie.

What are you going to do now?