All language subtitles for The.Canterville.Ghost.S01E02.Summer.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-Kitsune_track3_[eng]

Hiram: The lake's burst
its banks,

but it looks like the Lovells

moved up to the North Meadow
in the nick of time.

It was quite a storm, huh?

Lucy: I didn't sleep a wink.

I couldn't stop
thinking about Sir Simon.

Poor guy looked
so distressed, Hiram.

Hmm.

Do you think we should send
a gift

to apologise
for frightening him?

Nice idea, honey.

You know, I think we were
in the eye of it.

The damage isn't as bad
as I feared.

♪ A shelter in the time
of storm ♪

♪ Secure whatever ill betide

♪ A shelter in
the time of storm ♪

♪ Oh, Jesus is a rock
in a weary land ♪

♪ A weary land, a weary land

♪ Oh, Jesus is a rock
in a weary land ♪

♪ A shelter
in the time of storm ♪

♪ No fears alarm,
no foes are right ♪

♪ A shelter in
the time of storm ♪

Lady D-D-Deborah.

Delightful sermon
this morning, Reverend.

Although the end dragged.

Please do try
to remember the 10-minute rule.

Oh, dear.

I don't suppose
the insurance...?

Ghost damage comes
under exclusion clauses.

Curse his bones.

He's obviously not best pleased
with his new incumbents.

Elvis: Sooner they leave,
the better.

I couldn't agree more, Elvis.

What on earth can they have done
to offend him I wonder?

Morning.

Morning, Reverend.

So, how are you finding
England's green and pleasant?

A bit of a culture shock.

I don't expect
you'll stick around.

Don't you have law studies
to resume?

Actually I've decided
I'm not cut out for law.

So, what are you
going to do with your life?

You sound like my mom.
You know what mothers are like?

Hardly. Cecil's bolted with a
bridge player from Monte Carlo.

And ours upped sticks to become
a Buddhist nun.

The last known location was
some temple near Wat Chiang Man

wherever the blazes that is.

- Northern Thailand.
- Northern Thailand.

Is she coming to the wedding?

I sincerely hope not.

I hesitate to use the words,
"wedding of the year",

but the Prince of Wales
is the guest of honour.

The last thing I want
is a bald mother of the bride

in an orange sari ruining photos
because, well,

literally everyone
who is anyone will be there.

We hope you can come.

Although it will have to be
the reception party

only as the chapel
only seats 300.

Don't be a numpty, Mops.
She can be my plus one.

I wouldn't want to ruin
the seating plan.

It would be a shame if
you missed out on the ceremony.

Imagine the chapel, a bower
of freesias to match my bouquet.

The eyes of the congregation
on me as I make my entrance.

The Duke of Stilton --

Ruddy man! This is all I need.

What on earth's
the matter, Bluey?

You look like a heart attack
in waiting.

Dickie Wales has invited himself
to stay on his way to Scotland

- next month.
- Bad luck.

He'll drink my best vintages.

And how I'll entertain him

when the shooting season
hasn't even started?

He is rather high maintenance.

Can't you find an excuse?

Hardly, as my high maintenance
daughter would kill me seeing

as he's star guest
at her wedding.

Ralph seems smitten
with the Otis girl.

Deborah: He's not
the only one smitten.

Have you seen the way
she makes eyes at Cecil?

If we're not careful, none of
them will make a suitable match.

I say, Bluey,

what do you say we
kill two birds with one stone?

Hm.

Ooh.
I did'st underestimate them.

So impress-ed were they
by mine performance

they did'st leave me a tribute.

They seem strange tributes.

"Dear Sir Simon.

It was a pleasure
to meet you, and apologies

if we alarmed you at all.

Please accept
these natural remedies, uh,

which we hope you
will find helpful

for your soothing rest
and relaxation.

Sincerely, The Otis family.

P.S."

What does "ps" mean?

"Given the importance of sleep
to adolescent brain development,

we'd very much appreciate it

if you could limit haunting
to before 11:00 pm."

Well!

Hiram.

Do you think that means
he appreciates my gift basket?

At the black moon,

when Chanticleer doth sound
twice his merry horn,

then deeds of blood
will be wrought,

and murder walk abroad
with silent feet.

I'm not sure if "appreciate"
is the word I'd use.

Death threats from a dead man.
Way to go.

Theo: Did you see how
he turned brown

when the bath bombs exploded?

- They stuck to him.
- So?

Our Ghost isn't an apparition.
He's made of atoms.

Solid matter.

Hiram: That's an impressive
deduction.

Although his molecular makeup
must be considerably lighter

than ours in order
for him to disperse.

Frank: You mean he can't
just disappear.

Mrs. Umney,
do you know who Chanticleer is?

A cursed cockerel.

Legend says that if he crows
twice during the midnight hour,

a member of the household
will die.

And I take it this theory is
tried and tested?

The last time was in 1815
when Lord Digby Canterville

was struck down, aged 29.

How did he die?

It's said he was frightened
to death by the ghost.

Well, then I don't think
we have anything to worry about.

I suppose they'll redecorate.

Paint everything the colour
of wet cement

and call it New York chic
or some such thing.

Never been.

Visited the Hamptons
a few times.

It's a bit like Cornwall
but without poor people.

Hm. Ah, good morning.
I was just saying

how much I was looking
forward to seeing what

you're going to do with
the decor.

Well, I'll ask Mrs. Umney
to fetch us some tea.

Oh, there's no need.
I'll get straight to the point.

Now the Chase is reoccupied,

Bluey thought it might be
a good idea

to revive a local tradition.

- Mmm.
- Didn't you, Bluey?

The Stilton Canterville
cricket match.

Established in 1680 by way of
lowering the local murder rate.

We fought on opposite sides
in the civil war.

A lot of old scores.

Dead bodies piling up
everywhere.

Oh.

So the families decided
to vent their aggression

on the playing field,

captaining their tenants
in an annual cricket match.

Then over the years,
it became a highlight

of the social calendar.

Until the family moved out.

What does this involve?

Oh, nothing onerous.

Captain a team from the village
and lay on match refreshments.

Basically a fun day out for
the locals and their families.

- Oh, we'll do it.
- Ah, splendid.

It will be huge fun.

- Morning.
- Morning.

Well, thank you for coming.

Bye.

We've been wanting to get
to know the locals better.

Hiram, is now a good time

to point out you know absolutely
nothing about cricket?

It can't be that different
from baseball,

and the boys can join in.

I guess I just
can't help feeling

that woman is up to something.

Masilda: You want to find
the lost treasure

of the Cantervilles?

So, what makes you think
you'll succeed

when so many others
before you have failed?

Maybe they didn't ask the right
questions to the right people.

Ask your questions.

Well, the Gypsies built
Canterville Chase.

So they must have built
the priest hole.

They never finished building it.

They, uh, had a falling out
with Lord Henry

and were banished
from Canterville soil.

Why doesn't the ghost leave?

Spirits can't roam.

They need to be within reach
of their earthly bones

to recharge their energy.

Oh, like a vampire's coffin?

Like a battery.

He died unshriven.

Denied divine mercy,
and so cursed to limbo,

he's trapped inside
the walls of his own house.

Just one more thing ma'am. Do
you know what a black moon is?

Rare nights when the sky is
completely black

and spirits are
at their most powerful.

Cesspitt: Perhaps the repertoire
could do with updating.

Simon: What dost thine irksome
like know oft Sophoclean arts?

How I had'st the misfortunance
to culminate

with a gobbetous vermin
as mine only critic.

Cesspitt: I didn't
apply for the job.

I left a wife, 200 children, and
a newly built cesspit for this.

Well, rapacious rodent,

thou should'st
not have tried to eat me.

Cesspitt: I didn't know
your flesh was cursed.

Hmm.

Cesspitt: You didn't
even taste nice.

Oh, I do glean un soupon
de schadenfreude.

Thy last meal on't earth was
such a crushing disappointment.

Ah, only nine moons to go,
and one of them will't perish.

Now what?

He's hardly the
most reliable poultry.

My cursed cockalorum
will't not fail me.

They shall't rue the night
for their vituperation,

and my noble Chanticleer
will't be mine champion.

Canterville Chase.

One moment.

Buckingham Palace, Madam.

Lucretia Otis.

Commander Tommy Tiverton.

Personal private secretary
to his Royal Highness

the Prince of Wales.

Oh, I'm afraid you
must have the wrong number.

Mrs. Hiram Otis?

- Yes.
- Excellent.

And may I start
by extending his Royal Highness'

thanks for hosting.

So, if we can talk lists
of requirements

and security arrangements.

And there'll probably be
a small press presence,

but we'll deal with that.

- The Prince Richard?
- Lucy: Yes, Hiram.

The heir to the British throne.

Buckingham Palace are keen
to firm up the details

of the itinerary, given
that he is President of the MCC

and looking forward to
a "stonking match".

I guess it will be one
to tell the grandchildren.

How the English gave
the Americans a public whupping?

You know, I knew
that woman was up to something.

This isn't a friendly
for the locals.

This is the social event
of the year,

and we're the entertainment.

Please tell me we have a team.

Hi, there.

Morning.

Morning. Hiram Otis.
I've recently moved into...

I know who you are.

Wonderful store.

At least you get wi-fi
in the village.

We don't anymore.

The mast blew
down the other night.

Oh, it was quite a storm, huh?

Hasn't been a storm like that
in 25 years.

Hmm.

I don't know if you've
heard but we're reviving the...

Oh, it looks like you've heard.

In that case, I'm some players
short of a cricket team.

Is there some place
I could put a sign up sheet?

Try the church notice board.

Church notice board.
Thank you for your help.

Okay, what do we know?
One, the ghost must return

to his bones to recharge.

And two, he's appearing
at the next black moon.

- Charity: Next Friday.
- Exactly.

So why don't we follow him
back to his priest hole?

How can we follow someone
who can vanish through walls?

Because he can't go through
solid objects.

He's made of atoms.

He escapes through cracks
in the house.

So?

So...

we can track and trace him.

Paintball gun, fast release.

Lovely day.

Ah, it's nice to see
a friendly face.

I'm not exactly top
of the polls round here.

It's the storm.
They took quite a battering.

Well, they can hardly blame
an American

for the British climate.

Actually, they blame the Ghost.

They only blame you
by association.

That's funny you mentioned
a ghost.

There's nothing funny
about Sir Simon.

He's a particularly
malevolent spirit.

Been causing localised storms
for centuries.

Gather you'd reinstated
the match.

Hey, I don't suppose
any Cantervilles are

able to volunteer?

Cecil's playing for the
Stilton team under pain of death

from Moppy, and I'm booked
in for a knee replacement.

- Oh.
- But let me know if you need

any help on the coaching side?

Hey, I may hold you to that.

So how about we transfer
our baseball skills

to the cricket pitch?

Frank used to be a champion

little league pitcher
before the...

"incident", and Theo...

Has octopus hands
and two left feet.

We'd never win.

It's not about winning.
It's about playing the game.

- What's in it for us?
- Honour and glory, Theodore.

- What about Ginny?
- I can't even play baseball.

I'll be first aider.

Oh, good, well, since you've got
some time on your hands,

look, I got you these brochures.

Oxford and Cambridge

do some excellent
law conversion courses.

Actually I was thinking
I could help Dad

with his genealogy project.

Oh, I would like that very much.

Great. Then
I'll get on it tomorrow.

You'll need to go
to Featherstonehaugh.

The Cantervilles took
the archives with them

when they moved out.

Straight up, I think we may
have inadvertently offended him.

Dampier: I'm guilty myself.

40 years ago, on my arrival
as a young Curate, I, uh,

attempted an exorcism
on Sir Simon.

Then he
whipped up a storm

which brought the belfry down.

It took three years
to gain the trust of the village

after that and f-f-five years
of speech therapy

before I could deliver a sermon.

Hmm.

Well, the reason I'm here, may
I introduce Mr. Django Lovell.

Roofing specialist.

Reverend.

There's been so much
storm damage over the years,

it's like an over darned sock.

The economic long term solution
is to replace the entire roof.

Dampier: You're preaching
to the converted,

but there are only so many bring
and buy sales a parish can hold.

Well, it was caused
by my sitting tenant

so that'd be on me.

I'm -- I'm overwhelmed.

The timing couldn't be better,

as the future Supreme Governor
of the Church of England

is doing a drive by
on his way to the match.

I see you've put a sign up sheet
on the notice board.

Hmm, let's just say it
hasn't exactly been a stampede.

I'm sure once news
of your largesse gets out...

I'd rather it didn't,
if you don't mind.

As my grandfather always said,

"It 'ain't charity
when you help yourself."

Good afternoon.

Lord Canterville said
you'd be expecting me.

Follow me Miss.

Hello there.

My dad's researching
his family tree,

and your dad kindly gave him
access to the estate records.

Which is why I'm here.

On behalf of my father...

for purposes of research.

Thanks, Danby. I've got this.

Follow me.

Hey, guys. What's up?

Uh, hey, Dad.
Can we, uh, borrow some stuff?

Sure. Help yourselves.

What's that?

Hiram: That's
a cytronic stain remover.

- Ahh.
- It's a vacuum cleaner

for stains.

That's cyclone technology
mixed with cybertronics.

- Way to go, Theo.
- Yeah, it's quite revolutionary.

At least it will be
if I can get it work.

Hm.

- Are you a keen historian?
- Not really.

I'm just trying
to annoy my mother.

It's my dad who's obsessed
by the past.

He's really quite English
in that respect.

There's a great comfort in being
able to trace one's lineage.

That depends on the lineage.

Have you a date of birth
for Simeon Otis?

1575.

Cecil: Best start with
the parish registers then.

Anyone who was born, married,
or died on the estate

will be in there.

These are all the
Canterville estate records.

I may be here some time.

Right, well, I'll be off.

Simon: Only six moons to go.

Hiram: We're gathered here to
learn the noble art of cricket

and to convert our existing
skills into an efficient...

into, uh,
an efficient cricket team.

St. John: Each team
will bowl 120 balls.

The team with the most
runs wins.

Any questions?

Aren't there
supposed to be 11 players?

Oh, we're still
waiting on reinforcements.

Meanwhile we need to learn
the rules

so we've engaged the services
of a coach,

A.K.A. Lord Canterville.

Oh, coach is fine.
Coach Canterville.

Has quite a ring to it.

So I'm guessing it's
pretty similar to baseball.

Essentially yes.

With some tactical differences
on the fielding side.

Here's the field, uh,
starting with silly mid off,

silly point, gully,

slips, leg slip, short leg
and silly mid on, right.

Then moving outwards we have
square leg, midwicket...

...and we have deep square
and deep mid wicket.

Oh, and, uh, finally,
long off, straight hit,

long on, cow corner.

So, um, that's all clear?

Good morning,
Lady D-D-D-Deborah.

Good morning.
I see you've found a benefactor.

An extremely generous,
anonymous benefactor,

who's funding the complete
replacement of the roof.

The whole shebang?

Who on earth
could possibly afford to...

He made me swear to secrecy.

Hiram Otis?

Good deeds do have a way
of getting out.

Uh, but not from me, uh, us.

Neither of us want to be guilty
of betraying a confidence.

Trust me.
They won't hear it from me.

Thought you may be
in need of a cuppa.

What is it with
the English and tea?

It isn't just a beverage.

For we English no six words can
convey such multitude of meaning

as, "Shall I put the kettle on?"

It's a ritual and a metaphor

for welcome, celebration,
condolence...

and apology.

I could do with some
of its super powers.

I'm sorry.

Jeremiah and Sarah Otis had nine
children born between

1568 and 1579,

but none of them named Simeon.

And the only birth recorded
in 1575

was a girl, Hebizibah Otis,
born July 1575.

Four months before Simeon
which...

Is biologically impossible.

Mm-hmm. Hm.

Well, you spend your whole life
thinking you're someone

only to find out perhaps
you're not.

What about Simeon's sketchbooks?

Proof he was born
and raised in Canterville.

Yeah, maybe he's a relative.
A nephew perhaps.

Or a criminal fleeing the
country under a false identity.

Virginia: Nice, Frank.

There are shelves
of estate records.

There must be mention
of him somewhere,

and if there is, I'll find him.

Thanks, Ginny.

How are the match
entertainments?

Well, not very entertaining.

According to Mrs. Umney,
it's just tea and sandwiches.

Although she has offered
her scout a cappella choir

to sing the national anthem.

How's the cricket team coming
together?

Are you alright?

Pardon me for saying,
but you don't look well.

Thine horrid, rude, vulgar, and
dishonest family is to blame.

A tad hypocritical when making
death threats is hardly polite.

Or trying to terrorise people.

'Tis the reason
for my existence.

To lament by day and haunteth
by night.

Then, forgive me
for asking the obvious question,

but why don't you just leave?

- Because of this.
- I don't know what it means.

I am curs-ed.

I canst not weep for my sins
for I have no tears,

nor plead for my soul
because I have no faith.

Thus I am to await
the arrival of a golden child,

who shall't plead my case
before the Angel of Death,

and should'st he show mercy, I
will pass to the Garden of Rest.

Then the House of Life

and the House of Death
shall reunite,

and peace shall come
to Canterville.

And until then?

I am trapp-ed
in perpetual unrest.

But that's so, so unjust.

Lucy: Ginny,
who are you talking to?

Uh, no one.

Frank: Catch!

Patience: It's okay,
let's go again.

Hold the bat down to the ground

and bring it up
after the bowler bowls.

Hey, Hiram, so on a humiliation
scale of 1 to 10,

what is our current ranking?

- Four.
- Really?

- Maybe five.
- Mmm.

- Theo: Nice catch.
- Patience: Sorry.

- Nine.
- Oh.

Hiram: He wants
an exhibition match.

More like the Battle of Quebec
all over again.

No ball!

Lucy: Remember we won
the War of Independence.

If they want entertainment,
we'll give them some.

American style.

Oh, good morning Elvis.

Morning.

Goodness, this is exciting.
Quite the mystery.

Although one can't help
but wonder at the coincidence.

Coincidence?

Well, that this act
of munificence

should happen right
before Prince Richard's visit.

Just between us,
I believe he is very well known

for his anonymous
charitable gestures.

Anyway, I expect
we'll never find out.

- Morning.
- Morning.

It's a fine nocturne,

my proud young struttercomb.

Frank: Now!

Paint ball guns!
What, inside? Hiram!

They have paint ball guns!

You could have taken
someone's eye out!

What on earth were you doing?

Tormenting the ghost.
Can't you be nice?

- Where did the paint go?
- Theo: It stuck to the ghost.

It's like dye packs
that they use in bank robberies.

- What kind of paint?
- Powder mixed with ultraviolet

so that we can track
him back to the priest hole.

Attaboy!
You see, now that is a very...

- Hiram!
- Hm, right, yeah.

Time to call it a night.

Go to bed.

Frank: Are you asleep?
Let's go.

We need to go down.

Simon: Perdition seize this
pussumous prince of poultry.

Cesspitt: I did mention
he was unreliable.

Yeah.

I heard talking.

Is this your pet?

Hello. Aren't you sweet?

Cesspitt: Is she a simpleton?

Very possibly.

'Tis my familiar, Cesspitt.

I canst assure you he is aught
but confection.

For 400 years, I have endured
his pratter gabble.

It feels like a thousand.

I thank thee not
to interrupt my conversement.

Is he talking to you?

For my sins, he rarely desists.

A vexatious vermin
bound to me in limbo.

Bound? As in a legal contract?

Why ist a female speaking
of jurisprudence?

I studied law for a while.

Has it occurred
she could be "the one."

Jabbernowl.
I await a golden girl

not a pitch haired spinster
past her prime.

I'm 22!

As I said.

The meaning is open
to interpretation?

Or must we wait till
your bones crumble in the dust?

Simon: I suppose aught
is preferable

to thy noxious chittering.

Madam, would'st thy do thyself
the honour to be mine advocate?

Convince the Angel of Death
to show you mercy?

Mmm.

Virginia: What if I fail?

I am sentenced
to the garden of unrest,

whence there is
no love or reconciliation.

I can't.

Simon: Hm, hm.

I already destroyed a life.

I won't risk destroying
your death.

Ah!

Argh!

- What are you doing?
- Tracking the Ghost.

Theo: He went this way!

Virginia: Oh, can't you leave
the poor man alone?

- What's under here?
- Ha! Gotcha!

Frank: We found
this in the library.

Theo: Uh, this can't be right.

I mean, look,
here's the tapestry room,

and there's nothing underneath.

It's solid ground.

If there is a priest hole
underneath,

they're hardly likely
to put it on a plan

and stick it in the library.

This isn't the master plan.

But the builders
must have had one.

- Peter Lovell's box.
- Peter Lovell's box.

He was master builder
of the Chase.

His original plans should be
in there.

Do you think we could have
a look at them?

Cecil: Any luck with
the elusive Simeon?

Virginia: None so far.

But I found a mention
of his alleged father Jeremiah.

Here are their
Canterville assize records.

"4th of December, 1575.

Jeremiah Otis fined
one shilling for poaching."

I wouldn't advertise
the fact you are descended

from criminal ancestry
if I were you.

Cecil.

Your fiancé is here.

Right.

Thanks. I'll, uh...

I should be going, too.

Thank you for having
me, Lady Deborah.

I'll see you out.

Give my regards to your parents.

Everyone is really looking
forward to the cricket tomorrow.

It promises
to be so entertaining.

Is something the matter?

She seems strangely familiar.

Deborah: Not strange at all.

There's a portrait of her
at Canterville.

She was
Lady Eleanor Featherstonehaugh

before her marriage
to Sir Simon.

The murdered wife. Died 1576.

Isn't that a year
after Sir Simon was supposed

to have murdered her?

So says the legend.
The truth is far more mundane.

Brain dropsy induced
by melancholia,

according to the records
of the time.

Yet another
Featherstonehaugh woman

who made the mistake
of marrying a Canterville.

Dampier: In a deviation
from today's gospel

and in honour
of this splendid new roof,

I give you the parable
of the Good Samaritan.

"A certain man went down
from Jerusalem to Jericho,

and fell among thieves..."

Imagine the man attacked
by robbers was a building.

Like a church attacked
by the forces of nature.

And this Samaritan tended
its wounds

and made reimbursement.

Anonymously
and without seeking thanks.

God bless Prince Richard.

And this man, shunned
by the community,

not a princely man,
a priest or Levite.

But a foreigner. An outsider.

Then ask yourself this.

Which of these three
do you think was the neighbour?

I say unto you
it was the good A--

Am--

Amer--

Oh, dear.

...Samaritan.

A good Samaritan.

And now we will sing
hymn number 133.

No not there, there!

Mrs. Otis. Commander Tiverton.

- Good to meet you.
- Good to meet you.

Sorry, but what is all this?

Yes, the powers that be felt
it was worthy of coverage

due to the
"special relationship."

Hands across the pond
and all that.

Excuse me.

Good afternoon, sir.

Well, yes, as fortune
fares, she's right here.

It's the American Ambassador.
Just wants to wish you luck.

Oh.

Lucretia Otis.
Thank you.

Yeah, we'll do our best
to fly the flag.

We will. Goodbye.

Okay, so it looks
like it's just us.

I might have a gammy knee,

but I should be
able to hit a couple of balls.

Oh.

It's only me, I'm afraid.

I tried to garner support,
but subtext is

not really their strong point.

Thank you Reverend.
Okay, so, we're eight now.

That's 9.09% better than 7.

We are still three players
short. We'll never win.

This isn't about winning.

This isn't even
about playing the game.

It's about losing with
as much dignity as possible.

Oh, Debo. Thank heaven.

How are you, Caro?

- Livid.
- Who can blame you?

Your hostess, Mrs. Lucretia Otis
from Boston, USA.

Is this, uh,
how you play cricket over there?

Well, in the spirit of detente,

we decided to add an American
flavour to the festivities.

Oh.

- Oh, St John.
- Your Royal Highness.

Tommy: Cecil.
Deborah Canterville's grandson.

Cecil. Good to see you.
Not sure about the opposition.

Is that it?

- Appears to be, Your Highness.
- Oh.

♪ To thee we sing

Have they forgotten the words?

♪ Long may our land be bright

♪ With freedom's holy light

♪ To sing with heart and voice

♪ Great God our King

Very good, ah bravo, very nice,
well done.

Richard: Good luck, chaps.
Right.

Let's see what they're made of.

Caroline: Oh, how marvellous.
Which one's which?

Go Canterville!

- Come on!
- Virginia: Go Cantervilles.

St. John: Pitch it up.
Concentrate.

- Frank: Good luck dad.
- Charity: Go on.

Theo: Nice throw, Dad.

St. John: Never mind, Hiram.

- Off you go.
- Django: Catch it, come on.

Catch it!

Here we go Canterville,
and again.

Do you like cricket?

Until a few weeks ago,
I knew nothing about it.

But since then, I've grown
to genuinely detest it.

Oh, snap.

I had my day all planned,
catching up on this week's

"Cash in the Attic."

I should never have let
my husband talk me into this.

I know the feeling.

Patience: Got this.

Run, Charity, Run.

Catch it.

- Heads up.
- Poor dad.

Patience: I missed that, sorry.

Oh, hopeless.

They don't have the numbers
to cope.

Caroline: I say,
it's quite fun really.

Which one's which?

Patience: Catch it!

What's happening, Tommy?

It seems young Cecil's decided
to even up the teams, Ma'am.

Very sporting.
Top chap you've got there.

Yay, Cecil, yay.

Would you like some popcorn?

- Why?
- It's traditional

at American sporting events.

- Oh.
- I find it helps

with the boredom.

Cecil, get in close.
Forward short leg.

Good call. Yeah.

St. John: Right in his eyeline,
put him off.

Right, here we go,
Canterville. Come on!

Pitch it right up.

Right in his eyeline,
put him off.

- Patience: Come on then.
- St. John: Here we go,

Canterville.

- Patience: You've got this.
- Charity: Come on.

Caroline: Oh, no!

Oh, that's going to hurt a bit,
isn't it?

Deborah: Moppy!

Richard: Shouldn't
someone do something?

Hiram: Yo, how are you?

- Cecil: I'm okay.
- Hiram: Sure?

- Are you all right?
- Are you all right?

I'm fine. Good to go.

Oh, he's good to go!
He's good to go!

- Virginia: Dad?
- You're going nowhere.

You did us proud,
but your match is over.

Captain's orders.

Caroline: What's happening,
Tommy?

Tommy: We're half way through
the match, Ma'am.

The Cantervilles are
batting next.

I don't fancy their chances.

Caroline: Thank you, Tommy.

Cecil: I hope you didn't give up
the law to go into medicine.

Funny.

Why did you give it up?

The real reason.

I wanted to make a difference.

Turns out I did, only
not for the better.

I was interning
for a non profit preparing

for a big appellate case.

Can I have that in British?

A charity investigating
miscarriages of justice.

Kayla was an 18-year old

accused of killing
her stepfather.

It was clear self defence,

but the prosecution pressed
for first degree murder,

and it wasn't looking good.

Until I found
an unused legal precedent.

So what happened?

I made a mistake
with the evidence.

It was minor but enough

to get the whole argument
declared inadmissible

and threw into doubt
the line of defence.

Kayla was found guilty

and sentenced to life
without parole.

18 years old, and she'll
spend the rest of her life

in prison because of me.

You can't let
one mistake destroy your future.

You sound like my mother.

At least she didn't bolt
when you were in nappies.

I'm sorry,
that was super tactless.

It's okay.

I barely remember her.

Except she smelt of freesias.

I've always hated the smell
of freesias.

What do you want out of life?

I don't want my epitaph to read,
"Here lies Cecil Canterville,

born with a silver spoon
in his mouth."

Mmm.

I want to change the way

Featherstonehaugh's been run
for centuries.

Green agriculture.
Renewable energy sources.

Permaculture.
Aquaponics and hydroponics.

Crop rotation and polycultures.

Sorry. I sound a right bore.

What's next for you?

That's the million dollar
question.

Feeling better?

Remember we're three players
short, so make every ball count.

Hiram and Django

in first, followed by me,
then Reverend Dampier,

Frank, Patience,
Theo and Charity, all right?

Go on!

Canterville, Canterville,
Canterville, Canterville...

Frank: Good luck, Dad.

Theo: Good try, Dad.

St. John: Never mind, Hiram.
Unlucky.

Frank: Good luck, Mr. Lovell.

Caroline: Wish I understood
the rules more, Tommy.

Tommy: Canterville need 91 runs

with their best batsman
injured, Ma'am.

- Thank you, Tommy.
- It's hardly much of a contest.

It is rather embarrassing.

Patience: Got this.

Charity: Come on.

They're on the brink
of a batting collapse.

It's all over
before it's started.

Not quite.

Elvis: Sorry we're late.

It took me a while
to round everyone up.

Oh, God bless you, Elvis.

Your arrival couldn't
be more timely,

as I was just going in.

St. John: Here we go,
Canterville.

- Patience: Got this.
- Charity: Come on.

Caroline: What's happening,
Tommy?

Tommy: That's
the village cavalry out.

Caroline: Oh, bravo.

Tommy: It's down to the last
three batsmen now.

- They went out fighting.
- Come on, boys.

Patience: We got this.

Go!

Run! Run!

Tommy: Oh, dear, poor chap
has run his brother out.

- Theo: Sorry.
- Frank: Yeah, right,

octopus hands.

Tommy: It's down to
Charity and Theo now,

Six balls remaining,

and they need seven runs
to win the match.

Well, that sounds achievable.

Oh, I wouldn't get
your hopes up.

The last two are usually last
for a reason.

Nice!

This came in at the post office.
Special delivery.

Looked important, so, uh...

Hmm. Thank you.

Reminds me of the Ashes in 1981.

Tommy: Last ball, Ma'am,
and Canterville need to hit a 4.

It's actually rather thrilling!

He's done it!

- Bravo.
- Jolly well played!

- That was amazing.
- You guys were great.

You've more
than done your bit, Caro.

I'm sure you don't need to stay.

Well, Bluey can phone ahead

and tell his cook
to have something waiting.

Not ruddy likely.

Looks like the party's
just getting started.

♪ I used to think maybe you
loved me now, baby, I'm sure ♪

♪ And I just can't wait
till the day ♪

♪ When you knock on my door

♪ Now every time
I go for the mail box ♪

♪ Got to hold myself down

Oh, marvellous, oh bravo.

♪ And I just can't wait
till you write me ♪

♪ You're coming around

♪ I'm walking on sunshine

♪ Whoa, I'm walking on
sunshine, whoa ♪

♪ I'm walking on
sunshine, whoa ♪

♪ It's starting to feel good!

♪ Ooh, yeah,
it's starting to feel good ♪

♪ It's starting to feel good

♪ Mmm

♪ Love me,
now I know that it's true ♪

♪ I know that it's true

♪ And I don't want to
spend my whole life ♪

♪ Just waiting for you

Bravo, Mrs. Otis, bravo.

♪ I don't want you back
for a weekend ♪

♪ Or back for a day

♪ 'Cause, baby,
I just want you back ♪

♪ And I want you to stay

♪ I'm walking on sunshine

♪ Whoa, I'm walking on
sunshine ♪

♪ Whoa, I'm walking
on sunshine, whoa ♪

♪ It's starting to feel good

♪ Oh, yeah,
it's starting to feel good ♪

♪ Now every time
I go for the mail box ♪

♪ Got to hold myself down

♪ And I just can't wait
till you write me ♪

♪ That you're coming around

♪ Now I'm walking on sunshine

♪ Whoa, I'm walking on
sunshine ♪

♪ Whoa, I'm walking
on sunshine ♪