All language subtitles for Robin.Hood.S01E07.en

Previously on "Robin Hood."

Burn the fields!

My daughter's blood is
on that arrow.

Bring me Robin Hood
or share his fate.

Once Prince John was here.

He'll be sure
to meet you one day.

I'd do anything for you, Rob.

- The King's health.
- The King's health.

I see a town
where Saxon criminals

thrive under your leniency.

This is
a Writ of Aid detailing

the threat posed
by Robin Hood.

Each of you will pledge
your loyalty by signature.

I cannot lend my name
to a cause I do not trust.

If I hope to stay

in your care,
I may require another injury.

The way
the feathers have been cut,

only one man ever did that.
Hugh of Locksley.

what Eleanor needs
in Nottingham.

- A spy.
- The true aim is

an audience
with Robin Hood.

I want you to escalate
your rebellion.

Locksley was there.

It's because of him
that your brother's dead.

Are you saying
that Robert of Locksley

is Robin Hood?

Marian.

What's wrong?

Say it isn't true.

It is you.

Marian, they hunted us
like dogs.

Who?!

Your father and his men.

Marian.

Aronne was
a horrible accident.

- An accident?
- Yes.

Like robbing the Bishop.

Like almost killing Priscilla.

Like all of it!

It was all an accident!

I didn't mean for
any of this to happen, Marian!

Doesn't matter what you meant!

What a fool I was
to give you my heart.

To love you.

I never want
to see you again.

Not ever.

I bid you farewell...

Robin Hood.

Another day.

Acres more of forest cleared,

and yet no sign
of Robin Hood or his band.

What do you expect?

He's a forester's son.

He walks through those trees

like a man walking through
the halls of his own home.

There are rumors
in the villages

that he has taken
his gold and fled,

even left England.

No.

He's still in Sherwood.

How can you be certain,
My Lord?

Because I hung his father.

This fight is
personal to him.

It is about his home.

His family.

It is about me.

He will not run, Gerold.

Not until he sees me
standing across from him.

Uncle.

Come inside.

We can speak
more freely in there.

Why did you ask
to meet, Uncle?

Last week, the Sheriff summoned
myself and the other elders.

He's out for your blood.

And I his.

Boy...

do you really believe
that's a fight you can win?

He's a Norman sheriff appointed
by the King-- a warrior.

Commander of a garrison
that controls

- the whole of the Midlands.
- I've evaded him so far.

You can't forever,
you know that.

Go to France.

- You want me to run?
- I want you to live.

If that means you have to run,
then run while you still can.

Go and start a new life.

A new life?

As what, Uncle?

- As who?
- As anyone you want to be.

As anything other
than what you've become.

My sister educated you.

Taught you French.

Showed you how to conduct
yourself among the Normans.

Go start a new life.

No.

Why? What holds you here?

It's the girl.

Isn't it?

It's Marian.

This has nothing to do
with Marian.

She and I are no more.

You look like a wounded fawn.

With a broken heart,
no less.

No, Your Majesty.

You are many things, Marian.

But a liar is
not one of them.

There'll be others.

I only wanted him.

And yet you stand.

What passed between you?

He lied to me.

About who he is.

Then was the man
you love ever real?

Your Majesty,
may I walk from here?

Walk?

If you like.

Marian.

You mourn.

And then you move on.

That's the way of things.

You're a rare one.

It's not often I meet
a man who can keep pace with me.

Well, meeting your standards is
a pleasure all its own.

From Rhone.

Excellent vintage.

They say a man's choice in wine
reveals his taste.

But I've always believed
his company says more.

I tend to agree.

How did you come
to serve the Queen?

I met Eleanor
through a moment of need.

Where others saw
only a woman cornered...

- Hm.
- ...I saw a lioness.

I offered my help,
and she accepted.

And what exactly
do you do for her?

My place is
to perceive things

others overlook.

I cut through deception

and recognize people
for who they truly are.

It's useful to a Queen.

Mm.

And when you look
at me, Marshal,

what do you see?

I see a woman
who lives without apology.

Who pursues what she wants.

One who refuses to be tamed.

Flattery will
get you everywhere.

You lost, little bird?

Maybe you need help
finding your way.

Aah!

Aah! Aaah!

If you insist on death,
I'd be honored to oblige.

On your way now.

My lady.

I apologize for my lateness.

On the contrary.

I believe you arrived
just in time.

The outskirts of the city are
full of scoundrels.

You'd do well
not to travel alone.

I...

was on my way
to Westminster.

Westminster. You must be
a lady of standing then.

May I escort you
from here?

Yes.

You may.

Mother!

I come bearing gifts.

My Lord...
I did not know.

Because I did not say.

John.

You traveled alone?
A prince?

The carriages are
so slow and dull.

Simply no adventure to them.

Well...

right, I do see you found
some adventure after all.

I look forward
to getting to know you

while I'm here
at my mother's court.

As you wish, My Lord.

Good as new.

Where'd you learn to do this?

My uncle was a cobbler.

Tried to make me one, too,

but I had
a bad habit of running.

- From what?
- Responsibility.

Could you teach me?

There are many things
I could teach you, my Lady.

Oh, I'm-- I'm no lady.

What you are is plain to see.

Regardless of whether
you work to hide it or not.

The other women wear dresses.
You never do.

Why?

Ever since I was small, I've had
to watch after my brothers.

A dress would've
only made that harder.

Not any longer.

We're safe here.

I'll make you a dress,
if you like.

- Oh, I...
- I expect Rob would notice.

What does that mean?

I see the way
your eyes follow him.

So?

Okay.

Much has changed since we last
rode to war, but not your aim.

Well, some skills
should never be lost.

Not even in peace, after
a man has been granted lands?

And title?

We ought to be enjoying
all we've won,

not worrying
about Saxon criminals.

You mistake them
for a threat, Huntingdon.

Saxons are
an inferior people.

They don't plan,
they don't think.

They don't rule,
they exist to be ruled.

The King's blessing will come,

and when it does,

we'll thin the herd.

And if we wait too long?

As long as these criminals
run free, none of us are safe.

It won't last.

The Sheriff hunts him
like a man possessed.

Yet still he eludes them.

You doubt...
the Sheriff's resolve.

I doubt everything
about a man

whose failures endanger
the rest of us.

So, what are you proposing?

Can the Sheriff survive
if every earl and baron

beneath the Crown begins
to question his police?

The Sheriff is
the King's cousin.

You would risk his wrath?

I've fought beside Henry.

I know what he values.

Results.

Not incompetence.

These are the kind of things
a man cannot be wrong about.

If you are,

it's a noose
around your neck.

All the gifts
I've been given in this life,

one remains the most true.

My aim.

Every day,
more people come.

And our food stores
won't last.

God will provide.

Not here, he won't.

The herds have moved on.

We'll grab what we can.

Use the Bishop's coin
to buy the rest.

And when that runs dry?

We need more gold.

What would you have us do?

Rob the nobles.

Baron Warwick first.

Warwick's estate is one of
the most fortified in England.

Because it's stuffed
with gold.

And guarded by soldiers.

We're building a home here.

Things will be tough
for a while,

but we'll manage.

Warwick burned the crops
of a Saxon village.

Everyone there lost
their homes.

Livelihoods.

Many will starve.

He must be
made an example of.

To teach those
who would tread on us

that nothing will keep them safe
from Saxon vengeance.

We didn't come out here
to build a home, Tuck.

We were chased here.

We're hiding here.

And I'm done hiding.

Broke it off with Rob,
didn't you?

What makes you think that?

Your little walk.

The whole palace is talking.

I love him too, Marian,

but hate what he's done.

Does it even seem
like Rob to you?

He knew I could never be
with such a man,

yet did what he did
as if my love,

my trust meant nothing.

Why not just spit in my face?

I thought he wanted
more than just vengeance.

That he saw the world
the way I did.

But maybe that man
never existed.

Maybe...

I just wanted him to be
what he never was.

You have
a future here, Marian.

One you'd never find
in the forest.

You'll see that soon enough.

Nottingham?

The Queen demands
your presence.

Your Highness.

Seldom are we prepared
for the moments that define us.

It is how we meet them

that reveal
who we truly are.

Do you understand?

I don't believe so,
Your Majesty.

Kneel.

You have served me
with loyalty and resolve,

especially in Nottingham.

Few who enter my court
prove themselves so swiftly.

You will swear
your fealty to me,

and serve
as lady-in-waiting.

Do you accept this honor?

Yes, Your Majesty.

Then from this day forward,

you shall no longer be known
as Marian of Huntingdon.

Maid Marian of Locksley.

Rise.

Magnificent animal.

A rare thing, a war horse bred
for battle rather than show.

Its grandsire was a gift

from a warlord
in the Reconquista.

A superb horse.

I owe that animal my life.

Good boy.

Last time we spoke,
Sheriff, civility was in...

short supply.

But I want you to know...

that I have
great respect for you,

standing apart
from the Barons

for refusing to sign
the Queen's writ.

Hm.

That regard is why I'm here.

I came to speak with you
about Priscilla.

Priscilla?

I would like your permission
to court her.

As you have so many others.

I am neither deaf nor dumb
to matters of Court.

Including the reputation...

of its lords.

My own is well-earned,
I admit.

Yet you know as well as I
the power the right woman has

to change a man's ways.

And you believe Priscilla
to be such a woman?

I believe her to be,
in every regard,

a woman without peer.

On that, we can agree.

Priscilla is
the King's god-daughter

and my sole heir.

She is my heart.

Her value to me surpasses
any treasure in this world,

which means
the blessing I give you

comes hand in hand
with a warning.

Any hurt done to her,
by you...

shall be repaid a thousand-fold.

Perhaps...

should you ever

father a daughter
of your own,

you will know
this kind of love.

Do you understand?

Good.

And Earl Marshal...

good luck.

What's wrong with you?

First deer we've seen in days.
I had him.

I know.

I-- I'm sorry.

Your mind's
on the Norman girl.

Does it matter?

Well, unless
she can help feed us,

your thoughts are
best spent here.

I thought she was
at the palace anyway.

- She is.
- For good?

Yes.

Then she's where she belongs.

She's a Norman after all.

And you're where you belong.

In the forest.

A Saxon.

A Saxon like me.

Let's hunt.

Enter.

A unexpected pleasure.

I believe
I have a debt to settle.

Though it seems like
I'm paying with your own wine.

My mother's.
But I'll stay quiet.

Your Highness,
thank you for helping me.

Of course, Maid Marian.

Marian?

Will you have wine with me?

To debts repaid.

That song you were playing
was beautiful.

"The Ballad
of Luther and Berien."

A tale of lovers
divided by fate,

only to find each other
again in death.

Do you know it?

There was no music
in my house as a child.

- What a pity.
- Yours?

My father,
long may he reign,

saw no use for music.

It was my mother
who passed it to me.

She played harp and sang.

With her gifts,
she would compose

most certainly were she not
so occupied with conquests.

In my house,
when the time comes,

music will fill the halls.

Every child I have
will play.

It's the one force
that bends without breaking.

Tames without killing.

You are the artist
in the family, then?

Only because
I am not the eldest.

If I were my brother,
I'd be on a warhorse right now,

chopping off heads
in the name of the crown

in conquests.

Instead, you are
merely a prince.

And a fine musician.

You're not
as one would imagine,

Your Highness.

You know, it's...

less enjoyable than
you'd think, being a prince.

Why is that?

A prince holds too little power
to shape the world

but just enough to make him
believe he can.

It is a maddening illusion.

No matter.

I suspect there's
little in this world

that dares deny you.

Do you?

- I've seen you fight.
- I had to.

- You didn't have to.
- And yet I did.

I find I don't regret it.

I should return
to my duties.

Try this.

Mm.

Wild currants?

My mother used to pick them
in the springtime.

Every year, I do the same.

Why did your father
not remarry?

He had his companions,
but I...

I suppose no woman could
equal her memory.

Made for
an interesting childhood.

I've been the woman of the house
for as long as I can remember.

- The Lady of Nottingham.
- Mm-hmm.

Certainly taught me
much about men.

Oh, so this is
the root of your discernment.

And the reason
for my standards.

Only the best.

You're quite worth it,
Priscilla.

As I told your father.

My father.

When I asked
for his permission to court you.

Shouldn't you ask me?

Need I?

I suppose not.

Not when you know the answer.

You look weary, Sheriff.

A day in the saddle
will do that.

Shame to work so hard

whilst others undermine
your efforts.

You have something
to say, Bishop?

Huntingdon has been meeting
with the Barons.

Men meet, what of it?

It's given root to a rumor
that you're not capable

of performing
your duties as Sheriff.

An entire estate

he didn't lift a finger to earn,

and his thirst
is still not slaked.

The man has
never met a blessing

that he didn't turn
into a curse.

Sire, Hood is trouble enough,

but if Huntingdon stirs
the Barons,

he'll not only test
your patience,

he'll test the King's.

Then I suppose
he needs to be taught a lesson.

How are you finding
Westminster?

It isn't exactly France,
is it, Mother?

It most assuredly isn't.

Which begs
the question...

what brings you here, my son?

The future, of course.

We both know
Father's days are numbered.

When he passes,
it is my intention--

his intention--

that I take his place.

Is it?

And which part of kingship

do you feel
most suits you?

Well, the same part that suits
the man now sitting there.

My blood.

Blood.
That's all?

Blood makes men kings, Mother.

Ahh, and what
of your brother's blood?

Richard is happiest
on the battlefield,

far from the throne.
He has his uses,

but the kingship is
not one of them.

When you were a boy,
your brother and you

shared a toy
you both loved.

It was your favorite
in the whole palace.

- Metal warhorse, remember?
- Mm.

One day,
it fell into the fire.

I cautioned you both
not to touch it.

Richard was wise enough
to heed me.

But you--
fire be damned--

reached in
and plucked it out of it.

That was the day I knew

the throne would not
be your path.

Why?

After all, I got
what I wanted, didn't I?

Yes, John,
but at what price?

Blood does not make
a proper king.

Wisdom does.

Because, without it,
a king's blood is

no different
from a common fool's.

My path is decided.

And it will be the throne.

Sheriff.

To what do I owe the honor?

Surely Nottingham
keeps you busy.

I am the law in Nottingham.

I and no other.

Challenge me again...

and I will kill you.

Get off me.

The others are talking.

About Warick.

What about Warick?

Well, they're worried
it's too dangerous.

It is dangerous.

Then tell them
why it's worth it.

...best way to win a war
is to avoid conflict altogether.

He burned my village,
I say we kill the bastard!

Brother, I've been
on the other side--

Warick has men.

Yes, he has steel.

If we fail at this,
we pay with our lives.

Just look at where we are.

Now, this place...

it was never meant
to be our home.

No, we were driven here,

and not by a war.

Not by famine.

But by Normans.

By their laws,
their taxes,

by men sitting
in their halls,

counting money taken
from our hands.

They rob us of our coin
and they call it the law.

They take our land
and call it their right.

They kill our people
and call it justice.

But it is
none of those things.

It is a game.

It is a game rigged,

with the rules written
to keep us beneath them,

and yet they call us thieves.

Fine.

Then let us be thieves
with a purpose.

Because you see,
Warick's riches are not his,

no, they were taken from us.

His gold?

Our stolen sweat,
our labor, their wealth,

but we are the outlaws.

Since we are named such,

let them see
what outlaws can be.

It is dangerous

to take back what is ours.

But...

it is far worse
to live as slaves.

Tomorrow...

we show them...

what's stolen...

it will be stolen back.

You sent for me,
Your Highness.

Roses bloom in the sun,

and the whole world sees
their beauty.

They make themselves visible.

Much rarer is the beauty
that reveals itself at night.

This is why I love lilies.

Their greatest strength is
kept to themselves

and revealed only to those

who have the patience
to earn it.

There is a matter
that weighs upon me.

Prince John means
to take the throne.

But Richard is
the rightful heir.

Any disruption
to the line of succession

would invite instability.

Both England and France
would suffer greatly.

I won't allow that future.

He would defy
his own mother, the Queen?

John would defy anything

that doesn't serve John.

I must know his mind,
his methods, his endgame.

Earn his trust,

discover his intentions.

How am I to do such a thing?

You already have.

Those who meet
in passion and violence

are never strangers again.

Make yourself visible.

Be a rose, not a lily.

What if I'm neither?

You are whatever
the situation requires.

I am your faithful servant
as always.

Marian, tread carefully.

John wears many faces,

but few of them are true.

You've been
carrying something.

More than usual.

When you vanished
those few times,

where did you go?

I went to see her.

Marian.

Then she found out
who I am,

and what I've become.

I take it
she wasn't pleased.

There's more.

I made a deal.

A deal.

With who?

- Eleanor.
- The Queen?

The Queen of England?

You just bump into her
wandering about?

She sent for me.

What kind of deal
did you make?

She wants to stir
the rebellion.

- To what end?
- To force the King

to come here.

So he dies in England
and not France.

- Then Warick--
- I meant every word.

He deserves what's coming.

But the Queen.
The Norman Queen.

She benefits as well.

And here I thought
we were fighting for ourselves.

Not bloody Court intrigue.

And you get what?

If the King returns,

she will release Marian
from her charge.

And you think
if you give her freedom,

you win her back?

I think it's the only thing
I have left to give her.

You are a fool.

I know.

John.

What we're about to do is
what we should do,

but I won't pretend
I don't have more to gain.

I just need
to say it out loud.

What do I care why we get
to steal his gold, hm?

As long as we do.

But Rob, this girl...

she's gone.

Maid Marian.

Roaming without
an escort once again.

The Queen's halls hardly seem
a place of danger.

Who's to say
there are not predators here?

Then I shall have
to tread carefully.

I thought of you earlier.

- Did you?
- Mmm.

I never asked why you were
wandering the countryside alone.

- To clear my head.
- Of what?

Trouble.

Do your troubles vanish
with your steps?

When I was a child,
they seemed to.

Not anymore.

Not this one.

I think this trouble is
best left where it belongs.

In the past.

With that, I can agree.

A lady in waiting who thinks
and wanders so freely.

It's uncommon.

I wonder what else
about you is uncommon.

Would you like a list?

Or shall I let you
discover for yourself?

I prefer discovery.

It is far more interesting.

With that in mind,
would you join me

in my chambers tonight?

- Your chambers, My Lord?
- Mm.

With many others.

A celebration
for my return to London.

Only my closest friends
are invited.

An honor.

If you wish,
I will be there.

I do.

You're troubled.

I came here
because I saw a way

by which to fight back
against the Bishop.

But fighting
a baron's court,

to loot, to steal...

to kill?

Blood only begets
more blood.

You were the one
who said to hurt them, hm?

Take their money?

Perhaps I was rash
with my words.

What is your struggle, Tuck?

In your Bible,
your God's beloved

drowned his enemies
in blood.

And yet...

the blood on David's hands
kept him from building

the Temple of God.

A warning to those
too eager to spill it.

God's hand is
always for peace.

Then he will be
disappointed tonight.

Let's go!

No.

Not yet.

- It's cold.
- Then come back to bed.

Thought you Saxons were
impervious to the cold.

Yes, My Lord.

- Intruders!
- We are under attack--

Take them out!

Fencing.

Outlaws, sire.

You, get out!

Come on, come on.

Aah!

Finally, it gets interesting.

Rob!

Where is he?

Upstairs,
in the master bedroom.

Baron.

Time to settle accounts.

You won't get away with this.

You hear me?

You have no idea who I am.

No, I know exactly
who you are, Baron Warick.

You're a corrupt Norman lord

who burns
Saxon fields and...

well, he takes
what he pleases.

Our money.
Our homes.

Our women.

You're an elitist parasite,

fattening himself
on the labor of better men.

Thriving while my people starve.

And I would kill you.

But leaving you with no gold
is a far crueler fate.

Still, you should
thank your God, Baron Warick.

Because you'll wake up tomorrow.

Unlike so many of my kin.

Unlike my father.

I will hunt you down
like a dog.

I will go to the Sheriff.

I will go
to the King himself.

Aah!

Go, run to your masters!

Tell them Robin Hood
sends his regards.

What a splendid gathering.

Indeed, so marvelous.

"Being most anticipated
by His Holiness,

our audience must commence
as soon as possible."

What are you doing?

I was admiring your taste
in stationery.

Read anything of interest?

Oh, I would love
to know how to read.

Do you think
you could teach me?

I think we should
come back to the party,

and we should drink more.

To what?

To discovering
what the night has in store.

- You're late.
- My apologies.

- I was delayed.
- I trust it was important.

I have received word
from the Queen.

I'm being called
back to Westminster.

So just like that,
you must return.

When the Queen calls,
I answer.

And when will you return?

I don't know.

I hope... however...

not to return alone.

What do you mean?

Come to London with me.

As what?

I'm neither your wife,
not your sister.

Us traveling together
will be scrutinized,

especially to Court.

People will talk.

Which means...

we must give them
something worth saying.

That won't be
a problem... will it?

No...

Earl Marshal.

That won't be
a problem at all.

What is the meaning of this?

Robin Hood has robbed
Baron Warick.

I am holding you--

the leaders of the Saxon
community-- responsible.

You will be jailed
until Robin Hood comes forward

and submits himself
to Norman justice.

Sire, these men did
nothing wrong.

Irons.

Sire, please.

This is a dangerous act, sire,

- and a dangerous precedent.
- No, Gamewell.

Sire, please!

This is the end
of my patience.

And the beginning
of a reckoning.

I tried.

An audience with
the Archbishop of Lyon.

Yes. I read it
in his own hand.

You're sure?

As a child, I was made to learn
the seals of each archbishop.

I recognized that
of His Excellency,

Bishop Jean Bellesmains of Lyon.

Clever John.

You seek the Pope's blessing.

What does he stand
to gain by it?

Everything.

The trick is to stop the pawn
before it crosses the board.

Stay close to the Prince.

See what else he reveals.

- ♪ To all the Norman scum ♪
- ♪ Scum! ♪

♪ We're gonna
kick your bum ♪

- ♪ Arse ♪
- ♪ So pack your bags ♪

♪ And off to France while
we sing our tunes and dance ♪

Mmm, you saw
where he did--

you were like, "Ah-ha-ha!"

John!

John, put Milange down.

For the last time,

John, put Milange...

Rob...

I wanted you to see me...

as I am.

I know.

Have I not made
myself plain, Rob?

Is there any doubt
what I'm offering you?

Take me to your bed.