All language subtitles for secret_of_jules_verne_s01e17_rocket_to_the_moon

Enough, my son.

The penance is over.

Even for the sin you have not yet
committed.

Let St.

Basil bless your enterprise.

We had two reasons to go to Russia.

First, to launch her back on a mission
for the British Secret Service. And

second, to enable Phileas to conduct the
latest in a series of wagers with his

old friend, Count Cougar.

You didn't let your guard down.

How could I with you pressing me? You
have to let your guard down. You have to

risk everything.

Otherwise, the maneuver doesn't work.

It's impossible.

It's against human nature. That's why
it's so effective.

It is human nature to cling to things,
Vern. But when you let go, you become

free. Oh, how true, Phil.

And we all have so much to let go of,
don't we?

And some of us end up parachuting into
Russia as a result. Are you ready yet,

Rebecca? Ah, five minutes to the
location of the first mirror.

Presuming that our man in Riga got the
right information.

I'm gone.

I'm gone.

So why is the British Secret Service so
worried about a bunch of parabolic

mirrors going to Russia?

What? Those can have a surprising number
of military uses, Jules.

Signalling troop manoeuvres, that sort
of thing.

I'm chasing mysterious things around the
world. It's a secret service. You look

so dashing. Of course. What else are we
here for?

Ah! What the devil is that?

I did it.

It's Pash Patu's happy possible dresser,
master.

You like it? It is burning my leg. Yes,
and I am prepared for that.

I lost,

fortunately. No idea what I'd have done
with 600 serfs.

We're not due to meet again for another
five months, but Nikolai simply couldn't

wait.

He's a man of passionate enthusiasm,
sir.

What drives him to it?

What drives you to it?

The need to let go.

Talking of which... Wish me luck.

Seems an awful lot of trouble over a few
mirrors. Oh, the British Secret Service

never hesitates to put Rebecca to an
awful lot of trouble.

Strange thing is, she loves it.

The estate's coming up, Passport 2.

For the bags, Bax.

Yes, Master. I bring everything.

Welcome to

Russia. My dear.

Brilliant.

Oh, it's wonderful to be here, Nikolai.

Remember the last time when we raced the
steamboats down the river Thames, blind

falls? And I went to ground on Eel Pie
Island. Yes, yes, I remember it well.

what times we had, and there will be
more.

Yes, and this, Nikolai, is the perfect
place for some splendid competitions.

Don't tell me that's little Natasha.

Oh, she's my warden for my brother,
Jack.

Oh, my condolences.

Natasha.

Lovely to see you again.

Oh, how kind.

Thank you very much.

Ah, Natasha, may I present my friend,
Monsieur Jules Verne of Paris.

Verne, as you may have guessed from his
lack of manners, is an artist.

Paris, that must be such a wonderful
place to live.

If you have money.

But when you're starving in a garret,
it's... How romantic.

Romantic and uncomfortable.

But this, this seems to me romantic and
comfortable.

And stifling.

Like a prison.

We have none of us three here.

North, north, east.

Wasn't there a Rubens there last time?

Oh, I got tired of them. I sold all my
paintings.

More of your grand schemes to improve
the estate.

I remember when you got so fired up
about bauxite mining.

The only thing that concerns me at the
moment, my dear friend, is beating you

every contest that we undertake.

Natasha, show Mr. Verne to his room. Mr.
Fogg and I will be in the library.

and Basil the Blind, our local saint.

His eyes were sightless, but he saw the
truth.

I love the colors of these old icons.

It must be wonderful to be able to
paint.

Yes.

Yes, I wish I could.

But aren't you a painter?

No, no, no, no.

A writer.

A writer?

Yeah, well...

Well, not an established writer, a
couple of plays, lots of notes. I

figured out what to do with them yet.

Would you do something very personal for
me?

Yes, yes, anything.

Wait here.

Typical young bohemian, this friend of
yours.

Mind in the clouds, not living in the
real world at all. Yes, artist.

Ah, cheers.

But at least he's a painter, which is
acceptable.

For one awful moment, I thought he might
be a writer.

What's wrong with writers?

Writers and intellectuals who have
corrupted the Tsar, turned him from

traditional values to liberal heresies.
I've come to the conclusion that writers

are the worms in the ample society.

Wouldn't have many books without them,
though, would we?

This will be interesting.

It's the newest sport in the world.

I want to know if I should sacrifice my
life to literature.

You wrote this?

In secret.

It has taken me two years.

Two years of fear.

Fear? If my uncle finds out I'm writing
a novel...

He will send me to the convent of Santa
Stasia, which would be a living death.

The love of God don't let him see you
with that.

You don't know what he's capable of.

Chain is complete, Count.

And all our colleagues have been
informed of the correct procedures?

I have instructed each of them
personally.

The system has been tested.

The speed of light is on our side.

That is good.

That is very good.

You should be working in a great
restaurant in Paris.

You think the master's going to let his
servants go gallivanting off to parts

unknown with their passport?

I don't think so.

None of us will ever leave this estate
till the good Lord takes us up to

Unless we are bad and the count sends us
to Siberia. He wouldn't do that.

Hasn't done that to anybody for nearly a
year.

Such skill, such dedication, such
selfless devotion to the master's vest.

Ah, cars for my serfs within the last
hour. Would this be possible in the

Um, no.

One would just send one's valet to the
shops.

Yes, for a soulless machine -made
object, these men love what they do.

that right, Gregor? They could not be
happier, master.

You know, Nikolai?

I can never come to terms with the fact
that you literally own him.

Well, no, I merely own the land, and
these fellows belong to the land. It's

simple, like that.

And what will happen when the Tsar
abolishes the whole system?

The Tsar understands that the bond
between the noble and his turf is the

Russia. I guarantee he will never
destroy it.

You can guarantee what happens in St.
Petersburg, shall I?

You dissatisfactorily, sir.

We shall see.

Won't we?

Shall we begin at, say, 5 ,000 pounds?

Why not?

Natasha!

Natasha!

Natasha!

Saint Basil the Blind.

Huh, St. Basil, your eyes are open. They
should be closed.

It's great, this secret monster of hers.

You should not have come here.

Who are you?

What's that weapon for?

It is not a weapon, sir.

Count Sugarin and other noblemen who
think like him believe Russia should be

first nation to send a projectile into
space.

Hey.

This is the kind of scientifically
forward that I have dreamt of.

We need her.

You?

What are you doing here?

Well, I was looking for you. Instead, I
find this magnificent creation.

The world should know that Russia can
produce something like this.

No truth.

My uncle insists no one must know about
it until it's ready.

This device has cost many millions of
rubles.

And we are prepared to take extreme
measures to protect it. No.

Only the fact.

That you and Mr. Fogg are the guests of
the Count protects you in the situation

in which you find yourself.

I understand, but I've been working on
something like this for so long.

Please, let me help you.

Prince, there is so much to do to get
the moon gun ready.

Monsieur Fern has so much to offer.

I will discuss the matter with the
Count.

But in any event, you must swear not to
say a word of this to anyone outside

this instinct.

Do you agree?

I agree, Jack.

I agree.

Stop!

Ah!

The tools of the executioner.

Elevation's wrong. No, the gun needs to
be at 60 degrees to achieve the right

arc.

What explosives are you using?

400 ,000 pounds of fulminated gunpowder.

And the projectiles, how much do they
weigh?

19 ,000 pounds.

Generating an abrupt of 1 ,800 pounds
per square inch, resulting in escape

I have done flight plans, sketches,
calculations, something like this ever

I was a boy.

Oh, uh, what about the training program?

Training program?

Yes, for the moon voyager. You'll need
to be able to withstand the force of

gravity, use a breathing apparatus,
pilot the craft, and of course, take

photographs.

Man must go into space, Prince.

It's his destiny.

What is France you keep talking about,
then, Passepartout?

France is a country, my dear Elena,
where Frenchmen live, and Frenchwomen

of course.

Does the Tsar rule there as well, then?

The Tsar, Sergei, doesn't rule
everywhere.

There are oodlings of countries in the
world besides Russia.

Now, don't you be taking us for fools,
Passepartout. There might be one or two

other countries, but not oodlings.

And I reckon the Tsar is in charge of
them all, one way or another.

He's a great man, the Tsar.

They say he's going to set us free.
Quiet, Sergei. You know how the Count

about that.

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.

Now, I wonder if any of you have ever
thought about space travel.

That's going to be very hard to beat,
Count.

Must be my Viking ancestors.

Congratulations, Phileas. You now own
one -third of the Cougaran estate,

including over 200 men, women, and
children over whom you have power of

best. Ah.

Well, then, perhaps it's time to stop.

I urge you, Count, let us cease the
wager here and now, with honor intact on

both sides.

You will deny me the chance to win back
my heritage?

Are these the words of an English
gentleman?

So, for our next contest, we will pit
everything that I have left in the world

against your winnings and everything
that you brought with you.

Everything?

The clothes on my back?

Your flying ship.

Your man, sir.

Passepartout is not a serf. But he is a
contract.

And if I win, I'll merely obtain his
services until the end of the contract.

You don't wish to renege?

Do you?

That is not, Nikolai, a question to ask
of a man of honor.

Oh, good. There's plenty of space for
all the protective padding the Moon

Voyager's going to need.

Seats, breathing apparatus, a porthole
to gaze back at the repeating Earth.

It's going to be wonderful.

What is it, sir?

Oh, uh... Forgive me, I haven't told you
yet, have I?

Told me what?

That your novel made me grind my teeth.

I see.

With envy.

Envy?

Yes.

Yes, you see, there were real people in
it.

People with souls.

You really think so?

The thing where Prince Yusupov comforts
a dying hermit?

That moved me to tears.

And a love between Katerina and the
French officer, especially in the

Before the wolves come.

I cried the whole time that I wrote
that.

And when the lieutenant says, my heart
beats in your hands like the wings

of a butterfly, Katerina. And Katerina
replied, when you go into battle,

you carry my soul in your saddlebag.

And when I look into your eyes, I see
where my future lies.

Got you.

Next stop, Prince Sergei Grigoryev.

Well, I wonder if you two princes have a
mirror -oriented north -north -east.

Distance to the moon!

218 ,657!

Miles of disparity!

Speed required to break through the
Earth's gravity!

1 ,200...

You know, I think he's starting to get
it.

Say it again.

You are no longer a star.

You are becoming the world's first.

Lunanon!

Lunanon!

Yeah,

you see, it fits perfectly.

Looks like a real spaceship, doesn't it?
You're convinced science will make the

world a better place, aren't you,
Julius?

Of course.

Aren't you?

There is so much evil in the hearts of
men.

And so much good.

Do you think so?

I know so.

Oh, I'm so sorry. I forgot to turn on
his air supply.

There we go.

The cards are favoring you tonight,
Phileas.

It's amusing, isn't it?

How we ascribe human motives to pieces
of different paper.

Every inanimate object is part of the
great soul of the world.

You are too much of a materialist,
Phileas.

You Russians and your mystic visions.

We English know that a card is a card
and a horse is a horse, and that's all

there is to it.

No visions for us, Nikolai.

You have triumphed.

It was luck, my friend.

No, no, no. Brilliant playing.

Congratulations, Nikolai.

I'm being restored to your estate.

My condolences on your losses.

I will, of course, arrange your passage
back to England.

So is it goodbye, master?

Luck is not with me, Passepartout.

It's sometimes the way.

You have played a game. Some games you
win, some you are losing.

And some, perhaps, you shall never play
at all.

What's going on?

I'm saying goodbye to Passepartout,
Verne.

I regret to say...

I agreed to put up the remainder of his
contract and the Aurora as part of a

wager. I have lost the wager.

You've gambled away past part two.

Mr. Fogg consulting me. I insisting.

It is now a matter of honor. Of course.

Are you out of your mind?

It was a wager, Vernon. It was insanity.

How can you go around risking everything
in a single turn of a piece of card?

That is the point. Don't you understand?

That is the whole point.

Isn't life enough of a gamble, Fogg?

Why do you need this idiocy?

I can only suppose, Vern, that it must
be the result of a deep flaw in my

character.

Everything went as I planned it.

So, we have the dirigible.

Yes, we have the dirigible.

And I have lost my soul.

A mirror message came from St.
Petersburg just before sunset.

So, the Tsar has been given his
ultimatum.

He will make his reply at noon tomorrow.

For 12 hours count, the fate of Russia
hangs in the balance.

Go up to the gun.

Make sure the second projectile is
packed with explosive.

I will tell Natasha to keep the
Frenchman away from the gun cave until

over.

Natasha?

Natasha?

Retreat.

Explosive?

Why is the objective being filled with
explosives, Natasha? That makes us into

weapon, not a spaceship.

It never was a spaceship, Jewel.

Do you remember the elevation of the
gun?

Death was far too low. The projector
would have fallen on... St. Petersburg.

But why?

Because that's where the star is, mon
chauvin.

Put your hands in the air, very slowly,
please.

I'm sorry, Jules.

This was what I was trying to prevent.

What a fool you must have thought of me.
No. All the talk about the evil in the

hearts of men, it was the evil in your
heart. I was trying to save your life.

Yes, at whatever cost to me.

And to Russia, you have corrupted my
niece, sir.

Jules, forgive me.

That is for giving my serfs ideas about
their

station. That's what this is about,
isn't it?

You plan to wipe out the Tsar to stop
him from freeing the serfs.

No harm needs come to the Tsar. It still
is a parabolic lyric. It is almost

instant communication with St.
Petersburg.

If we receive a positive reply by noon
tomorrow, we'll know the Tsar has wisely

torn up the proclamation.

Only a refusal to do so will mean we
have to fire the gun.

Pray that we don't see refusal.

Why? Because I plan to attach you.

To the mouth of the gun. It would be a
very appropriate death, don't you think,

for someone so enthused about
technology?

No, please.

It remains to me. I sent another message
tonight to the convent in St. Eustacia.

The nuns will be coming to collect you
at noon tomorrow.

Really, Nikolai, there's no need for
this. No, no, I insist, my dear Phileas.

The carriage will take you to Smolensk,
and from there you will be able to take

the train back to England. I am certain
that as soon as you are home, you will

be able to restore your fortunes.

And there's still no sign of Vern.

After the altercation he had with you
last night, he insisted on leaving

You will probably find him already at
the station in Smolensk.

Give my regards to Natasha, won't you?

Yes, sir.

Of course.

And Passport, too?

No, you'll treat him well.

I know you will. Like one of my own.

Goodbye.

Bye, dear Phileas.

You will always have my deepest
admiration.

Goodbye, Nikolai.

This isn't where the damn thing stopped.
We are going home.

Oh, Lord.

Good,

good.

Survivors will look up from the ruins of
St. Petersburg and know the old Russia

has been tamed. Good, good.

How long will it take for you to reach
the capital, your honor? In this

just a few hours.

Time is of the essence if we get there
before the army is able to regroup.

Providence has smiled on you, sire.
Providence has nothing to do with it.

You see?

mechanism. You really know how to enjoy
yourself, don't you, Jules?

Rebecca, they're going to blow St.
Petersburg off the map.

Yes, and you with it, by the look of
things.

Can you wriggle free?

And break my neck?

Phileas told you. You know, Rebecca, I
don't have such high regard for Mr.

Phileas Fogg anymore.

Well, possibly not.

But he was right about one thing.

The need to let go.

The need to let go?

Jesus is waiting for you.

I can't go to the convent now. My uncle
is about to blast a young Frenchman out

of the mouth of a giant gun.

I would never do such a wicked thing.
Oh, he doesn't know what's best for

anybody. He's completely mad.

Oh, shoot.

Oh.

Tino, that's a receipt from Moscow, your
honor.

This bar has rejected your ultimatum.

So, Gregor, the time has run out on the
Robin Hood.

Go down.

Load the second projectile. As you wish.

Sergei!

Do it, Sergei.

We're going to fire this one first.

The one without explosives.

Begin to count stuff.

Actually, no.

Considering the fact that you have my
friend suspended in the mouth of the

You, what are you doing here?

I'm here, Kugarin, to tell you to your
face.

Did you cheat at cards? That you cheated
me, your friend?

I did it for Russia.

Well, that's not good enough, Count. I
have already sacrificed my honor for it.

If you imagine I will hesitate to kill
an unarmed man, you are mistaken.

If he is unarmed.

Thank you, Rebecca.

Splendid timing.

Ah, the mirrors.

It's the mirrors, isn't it?

Nikolai.

It's all done with the mirrors, isn't
it?

I do think this is something that
Phileas and his former friend have got

out between themselves.

I beg you. You don't take her. Get out.

In for trying to kill Jules Verne.

And this is for mistreating my
manservant. And

this.

Absolutely fantastic.

Hmm. What have you been up to then,
Tilly? A little croquet, Rebecca.

A few games of cards.

Nothing really worth discussing.

This, I believe, is yours. Thank you.

And Vern.

In one piece.

Good.

I'm very pleased indeed.

Me too.

We parted on bad terms.

I said them harsh words.

You have strong views.

Yes.

Yes, I guess I do.

Well, that's that sorted out, then.

Oh, you know that advice you gave me
about letting go?

Really useful.

Joel!

You're alive!

Master!

Miss Rebecca!

You know what this means, don't you?

Yes. The Tsar is alive and the Tsars are
free.

And so are you.

What has become of my uncle?

Well, Natasha, I suppose he's free too.

In a way.