All language subtitles for Butterflies s02e02 Fox Hunting

Love is like a butterfly Soft and gentle
as a fly The

multicolored moods of love Are like its
satin wings Love

makes your heart feel strange inside It
flutters like soft winds in flight Love

is like a butterfly A rare and gentle
thing

love is like a butterfly a rare and
gentle

There you were, fluttering from colour
to colour, doing your own harmless

Suddenly you're scooped up, put in a
jar, and that's it. Good night. God

We're funny things, human beings.

Rather like you, in a way.

Fragile.

Trying to do so many things in so little
time against enormous odds.

Except we're lucky.

You don't collect us I'm sorry you're
dead

The man I chose out of a world full of
men actually approved of that merciless

massacre going on over there.

I didn't say I approved.

I simply don't have the time to
disapprove.

What does that mean?

It means that to approve of something
requires no effort.

To disapprove requires explanation.

I don't have time for explanations.

You've become hard.

And do you know why? Because of these.
You don't regard this as murder, do you?

No. I regard it as preservation.

Which would you rather do? Live out your
life or be murdered and preserved?

Ria, I find this conversation rather
bizarre.

I find this whole outing rather bizarre.

Come on, an innocent picnic.

On the way, you collide with a sparrow.

I did not collide with a sparrow. A
sparrow collided with me.

Then thousands of men go charging after
one poor little fox.

Now we drive home with a car full of
dead butterflies.

Have you finished persecuting my car?

Your door isn't closed.

It awakened something in me.

I saw, seeing that animal running for
its life.

We're all running for our lives. He was
no exception.

But nobody's catching up, are they?

The countryside seems suddenly full of
cruelty.

Everything has become cruel.

Men, horses, dogs, and you.

If you stop using that tone of voice
when describing my innocent hobby, you

me sound like a rapist.

You just ran over a mouse.

You ran over it just the same, didn't
you?

Yes, and unless we buy a bloody
aeroplane, I don't see an end to the

I suppose it'll be all over now for the
fox.

Yes.

And they'll be sitting in their big
houses with their big bellies full of

dinners.

And they'll be telling big stories in
their big voices.

About a little fox.

Yeah.

Probably had a family.

They'll be waiting in the dark. In a
hole.

Hungry.

It must be like you and Adam and Russell
waiting for me to come back from the

supermarket.

Still, it doesn't matter.

Some Nile drastic will come along with
his gun and his terrier shouting, get

their throats, lads!

And that'll be that.

It's nothing, really.

I'm glad I'm not a fox.

Aren't you glad you're not a fox?

I get the impression that you're leading
up to something.

That you're taking me gently by the hand
through all your little thought

processes and then suddenly you'll draw
me into a verbal liquidiser, switch on

and I'll come out like a milkshake.

I'm confiding in you, that's all.

People don't confide in people with
their backs to them.

From here you're just a frilly nightie
with a nagging voice.

Doesn't matter.

Doesn't matter, it doesn't matter. When
a woman says it doesn't matter, it

matters.

Look, I didn't create the world. I
didn't make foxes or men who chase

am not God.

I'm merely part of his huge joke.

Oh, that's right. Blame God. He gets
blamed for everything.

A bed is supposed to be a happy place. A
place where a man can shed his day and

sprawl safely in his pyjamas.

There I can feel a threatened heart
attack.

Valves pumping away in my chest and
little men digging up a road in my

One more unhappy word and I shall be
gone.

Good night then.

Worried about us.

Worried about the way I quarrel with you
and the way you quarrel with me.

And the way we nearly went to sleep
without a little hug. We never nearly go

sleep without a little hug.

Oh, Ben, hold me.

I feel... I feel as if I'm a balloon.

A pale pink balloon floating gently.

I've got a sting.

All you've got to do is grasp it and
hold on to it because if you don't, I

float.

You can loosen up a bit, one arm will
do, you can continue strangling the

Like knowing a body very well.

Yes.

For instance, I know that beneath this
jacket, it's all bony and

hairy.

And I know that when you come to the end
of your ribs, everything caves in.

And I know about your funny

kneecaps.

your shoulder blades don't match.

And I know... Ria, men have been known
to say goodbye to their virility during

conversations like this.

And I know how strong and warm and
special it all is.

Yes.

What it's like being torn to pieces.

Oh, my God.

A plate.

Plate.

Where's your mother?

Don't know.

Make your father's lunch, he said.

How's the chip department? They're all
sort of clinging together.

Well, shake them, sunshine. Shake them.

Oh, fantastic.

It's all right.

It's all right. It's mine. Yours is on
the plate.

Will the chips be visiting the floor or
are they going straight to the plate?

Any way you choose, Dad. This is a
happy, peace -loving, do -it -your -own

lunch.

Right. Go.

You've got the peas.

Oh, yeah, right. The peas.

We've forgotten the peas.

Ah.

Pickled onion.

No, thank you. They look as if they
should be in a laboratory.

Peas? I suppose so, yeah.

Are you sure they're peas? I mean, your
mother isn't going to announce tomorrow

that her black beads are missing?

Cooked for three minutes, Dumbo.

So I like my peas well done.

I had a few things to watch. All you had
was the pie. And the bread and butter,

and the bread and butter.

Then where is it?

I don't believe anyone wants to know.

Okay,

okay, so I haven't done it. Then go on
about my peas.

Have you two developed some sort of
throat trouble?

We were just having a discussion.

About the meal.

Meal? What meal?

Where I sit, my plate looks as though
it's got a very old dahlia on it. Oh,

on.

What is more disturbing, I am beginning
to look like a very old dahlia.

Right.

And do you know why?

Because I am a man trapped.

I mend people's teeth.

My day begins with the word, open wide,
please.

And from then on, I am treated to untold
horrors, great rows and clusters of

Mother Nature at her worst.

But I tell myself, there is a purpose to
all this.

Oh, yes.

There is a wife, two sons, a house and
several cars to keep.

Family life, they call it.

So, yesterday, my wife, having seen a
fox hunt, blamed me for it.

As we drove home, she spoke as if I was
one of the men who indulged in it.

When we lay in bed, I had become
responsible for the fox's inability to

enough. By the time breakfast came this
morning, I'd turned into a pack of

bloody hounds.

Now, in my lunch hour...

stricken with yet another fact of family
life.

Two helpless sons, plastic peas and limp
chips.

Well, have you nothing to say?

Who's dropped a sock in the lavatory?

all the same.

I want you to imagine it.

I want you to picture a wild and
beautiful creature, part of the heritage

country.

and save us.

Because it is only

It would be very difficult to be married
to her, with her arm waving and

standing on the furniture.

I'm sure it has its complications.

A few apologies from the driving mirror,
sir, but is that love I see on your

face or something less commendable?

My compliments to the driving mirror,
Thomas, and tell it to mind its own

business. I'm sorry, Thomas.

You detect on my face confusion and
frustration.

Seeing her is like seeing a red button
mark push and not being able to push it,

because if you do, a loud bell will
ring, sirens will sound, and the whole

will be alerted.

And you will be caught.

Well, at least you have a fragment of
consideration, sir.

Some people would just push it and run.

Drive on, Thomas.

May I return the driving mirror to its
proper position so it's a little

difficult driving with the view of the
ashtray?

Are you with me?

Yes, yes, yes!

Will you help me?

Yes, yes, yes!

Bring your friends, bring your cars,
we'll block their path.

Ladies and gentlemen, all we need are 20
cars, just 20.

and uneventful as usual.

And you?

Yes, the usual.

Teeth, lunch and teeth.

And dinner and teeth?

Well, it is my job.

And I am rather talented.

Look how straight they are.

He came to me looking like something out
of Watership Down.

Oh, I'm not criticising your devotion to
your job.

Everybody must have something to feel
incensed about.

And you?

What are you feeling fenced about?

Oh, I just adore all those dishes on the
draining board.

The ochre colours of abandoned egg.

The sudden opening of an oven door and
coming face to face with some

unrecognisable mess.

You mean like yesterday's dumplings, all
lying at the bottom of the dish,

shipwrecked?

That sort of thing, yes.

Where were you at lunchtime today?

Meeting people, chatting.

Didn't you eat them?

No. Oh, well, I had a sandwich earlier.

How was lunch with the boys?

Oh, just one more nightmare.

Are you chasing butterflies on Saturday
because the garden needs doing?

What I mean is, I think you ought to
have a rest on Saturday.

It's very strenuous.

Daffling around with that net.

You're right, it's very strenuous. I'll
do the garden. The grass is only up to

the bedroom window.

Well, neither do I, though.

Why don't you just lie about doing
nothing?

You're forgetting our sons. There isn't
room for the three of us to lie about

doing nothing.

I'll send them out, and then later I'll
go out. You can have the whole house

yourself.

Where will you go?

For a walk.

In the car.

I see. Oh, you know what I mean.

You look... very...

Sexy?

That's it, yes.

Oh, go on, say it, say it.

You look very sexy.

Be outrageous.

There's no point.

Miss House, there's no point.

Ever since those two hacked their way
out of the playpen, I've learnt never to

start anything I couldn't easily finish
without them gawping at me.

You look very sexy.

So do you.

What rubbish.

Healthy. Rugged, perhaps. One might even
sense a certain brilliance, but not...

You love me?

Absolutely.

Hopelessly. All of that, yes.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr.
Muscleman himself, the incredible,

the vibrant, the potent, Mr.

Adam.

You're not going busking again, are you?

No, we're going to a fancy dress party.

Are you sure he'll make it?

He's never been known not to, Dad.

What?

Will he be able to make it, I asked.
He's never been known not to, Dad, comes

the reply.

So what's wrong with that?

Well, it's the connotations.

The connotations, they're sex mad.

No wonder they go about looking glazed
and gaunt.

He's never been known not to.

By the time he's 30, he'll be like a new
car with 80 ,000 miles on his clock.

Ben?

Yeah?

Have you ever sensed a feeling of power?

Not since they were thick, no.

Have you ever suddenly felt united with
your own species?

When I was ten, I was in a three -legged
race.

I remember feeling some sort of unity
with my partner, but it only lasted for

yards. No, I mean, have you ever led a
group of people, influenced them?

I saw this woman in town today.

She was campaigning.

You mean one of those awful masculine
females, grating voice and a menacing

amount of chest?

As a matter of fact, this one was rather
attractive.

Quite sexy, too.

She was a woman with a purpose. She
really moved that... crowd crowd she

probably had a husband and son or no
husband and daughters

but for those few minutes she belonged
to

nobody but herself are you with me she
cried yes yes yes they said will you

help me yes

Tell you about her.

I'm glad she's not mine.

you were alone.

Yes.

Doesn't your husband support your views?

Oh, he doesn't know I'm here.

He wouldn't approve of this sort of
thing. He's too refined.

I've read your instructions.

The cars will be parked bumper to
bumper, forming a barrier right across

field, thus preventing the hunt from
continuing its route.

Already. I believed them.

I believed they'd come.

You can't believe in anyone, really, can
you?

Have you?

Oh, I might have known I could rely on
you. Trust you to turn up on time.

Well, just you try it. There'll be no
dead fox today, my fat -ass friend. Not

I have anything to do with it. You'll
see, because you'll have me to reckon

with. I didn't come here for nothing,
you know.

You appear to be in the wrong place.

We hunted this morning from the manor.

Over there, actually.

Still never mind.

Tally -ho.

Didn't work, did it?

No.

A bit silly, really, wasn't it?

Some things you can't stop.

Thank the others for me, will you?

What are you looking so smug about?

If it wasn't for me, you'd be lying flat
on your back in a jar.

Love is life because you try to love.

Love is life because you try to love.

Love is life because you try to love.