All language subtitles for R.H.2025.S01E08.1080p.WEB.h264-ETHEL

Previously on "Robin Hood."

I apologize
for my lateness.

I believe you arrived
just in time.

Mother, I come bearing gifts.

My Lord.

I did not know.

Maid Marian of Locksley,

you will swear
your fealty to me

and serve
as lady in waiting.

What brings you here,
my son?

Father's days are numbered.
It is my intention

that I take his place.

Blood does not make
a proper king.

My path is decided.

- And it will be the throne.
- John would defy anything

that doesn't serve John.

I must know his mind.
His methods.

- His endgame.
- How am I to do such a thing?

Make yourself visible.
Be a rose.

Not a lily.

I came to speak
with you about Priscilla.

I would like your permission
to court her.

Any hurt
done to her by you

shall be repaid
a thousand-fold.

Tell me what you know of
the forester Hugh of Locksley.

Aronne was
a horrible accident.

- It was all an accident.
- I-- I didn't mean for

any of this
to happen, Marian.

It doesn't matter
what you meant.

I never want
to see you again.

- I made a deal.
- With who?

Eleanor, she wants
to stir the rebellion.

- To what end?
- To force the King

- to come here.
- And you get what?

She will release Marian
from her charge.

Time to settle accounts.

I would kill you,
but leaving you

with no gold is
a far crueler fate.

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.

ROBIN HOOD

Your presence is requested.

Robin Hood has once again
evaded justice.

I can only suspect
the Saxon people

have had a hand in it.

I have tried
reasoning with you.

Offering civility,
breaking bread.

Now it seems
a more direct approach

is in order.

So...

one of you will be freed

to deliver
Robin Hood a message.

If he does not surrender
by week's end,

the rest of you will hang

as traitors.

It is time Hood learned
the true price of his defiance.

If you value
the lives of the others,

you will get
my message to Hood.

You truly believe
Robin Hood will surrender?

I hope not.

If he did,
he'd ruin my plans.

Feels different, doesn't it?

The air,
thicker with influence.

Sharper with ambition.

Is that what that smell is?

You're nervous.

You belong here, Priscilla.

You've always known
how to navigate any room

and turn it in your favor--
Westminster's no different.

Wilderness of its own,

complete with
predators and prey.

Sounds like
my kind of jungle.

So, I see he's brought
a pet from Nottingham.

I give her a week.

Perhaps less.

She won't last.

Soon...

all of Westminster
will be introduced

to Lady Priscilla
of Nottingham.

Marshal, it's beautiful.

You must be
properly adorned.

It feels good to be here.

Away from Nottingham.

Far away
from that devil Robin Hood.

What's the tide
bringing today?

A ship from the east.

John.

It's been some time.

I was beginning
to think you died.

Not for lack of trying.

This is Tuck. Rob.

Rob?

Not Robin Hood?

Is this not the name
you were given?

Not by my father.

By my enemy.

Then it will be
the one that endures.

The name your enemy curses

is the one
history will write.

Ibrahim... Al-Rashid.

"Al-Rashid."

"The rightly-guided."

A name fitting
for a man with instincts,

a man such as myself.

Where did you learn Arabic?

Oh, I don't know it,
it's just that name,

it was from a book
my mother made me read.

She was a good mother then.

She was.

Word of your exploits
has reached London.

Stealing from Norman lords.

Infuriating Nottingham's crusader...
the Sheriff.

- It's impressive.
- I'm not here to be admired.

Do you have what we need?

Steel.

We'll take these.

Those are more.

- How much more?
- Fifty ducats.

We didn't bring
that much gold to the city.

But we have more hidden.

I can have that brought to you
in the next week.

I don't know, John.

I have never failed to pay.

You never faced
what you are facing.

You're not taking on
drunken soldiers in a tavern.

You are challenging
the Sheriff,

and a man like that collects
his debts in blood.

I think you are going to die.

He won't die.

He's too big to die.
Look at him.

You ask much of me, Hood.

We will make good
on our debt.

And more than gold,
we'll owe you something greater.

What is that?

Loyalty.

Something's changed.

A few nights ago,
your ambitions ended

at the borders
of Nottingham.

Now here we are in London,

making alliances with Saracens.

What aren't you telling me?

Time for ale.

It's a long ways back.

And we must be properly...
satiated.

Not for me. You go on.

I have something
I need to do.

Come on.

I can get you
to the traitor's gate.

No further.

The woman you want,

her quarters are
in the east wing.

That's all I was told.

That's all I need.

Rob...

Marian...

Rob... for pity's sake,

what are you doing here?
Leave!

I need you
to do something for me.

What are you talking about?

Deliver this to the Queen.

And tell her
it came from Robin Hood.

You dare speak that name
in front of me.

And you have the gall to ask
anything of me.

Leave, Rob, now.

I-- I will.

I only need you
to tell me one thing,

and that's
you don't love me.

You say it,
and you'll never see me again.

Love has nothing to do with it.

Love has everything
to do with it.

What else is there?

There's all the rest of it.

There's my brother,
he's dead!

And there are your lies!

The question is not
whether I love you or not.

The question is,
do I want to love you?

And the answer is no,
I don't.

What's wrong with you,
Nottingham?

Nothing.

Prince John seeks
an audience with the Pope?

Then he's after
papal endorsement.

It's a requirement
for any noble

who wants
to ascend the throne.

It won't be easy.

The path to His Holiness
is never straight.

It's a political dance.

He'll need to sit
with the cardinals first.

Navigate their ambitions

and egos just to get near
His Holiness,

and even then,

the Pope's blessing will
not come cheap.

- John doesn't have any funds.
- No.

But from what I understand,
he's seeking patrons.

I still have
reliable agents in Rome?

You do.

Write to them and tell them
I want their full attention

- to this matter.
- And beyond that?

Nothing. We wait.

We set the board,
and then we make a move.

John's proving smarter
than I gave him credit for.

Well...

he is my son, after all.

Where is he?

- Who?
- Robin Hood.

Where do they hide?

Don't lie to me. I know
you foresters can find him.

- The palace suits you.
- Of course it does.

Have you seen
who I'm here with?

The measure of a woman
isn't whose arm she's on.

You told me that once.

Did I? Huh.

Well, that was
before said arm belonged

to the Earl Marshal
of Pembroke.

You're different with him.
In a good way.

He's like no other man
I've ever known.

He doesn't try to shrink me.

He doesn't want to.

You love him, don't you?

Yes.

I'm happy for you, Priscilla.

You're thinking
about Rob again, aren't you?

I would've thought you moved on
to something better by now.

Someone less impossible.

I'm trying.

It's just...

well, last night, I was
unavoidably reminded of him.

Marian!

What do you think
a life with Rob would look like?

You'd be hunted,
to the ends of the earth.

Is that your dream?

To ruin yourself for a man
who can't even save himself?

No, of course not.

Sweet Marian.

Nothing will change
what Rob has become.

The man you loved is gone,
beyond gone.

Condemned.

I know.

And I accept it.

Elder Gamewell, Sire.

He has an entreaty to make.

Let us hear it then.

Hanging the others
will only stoke the fire

between Saxon and Norman.

If a man must die
for Rob's actions...

let it be me alone.

A selfless act, and admirable,
Gamewell, but...

ultimately meaningless.

The law must be upheld,

or this land would slide back
into the anarchy it once knew

before Norman rule
brought order.

What you call order, Sire,
is but a cudgel wielded

by the elite to strip Saxons
of their birthright.

The same tired grievance.

Not tired.

True, Sire.

Levies that break
the backs of honest men.

Laws that serve
the privileged alone.

If a Saxon cannot pay,
he starves.

If he resists, he hangs.

You speak of justice, Gamewell.

Justice?

Was it justice
that hung Hugh Locksley?

I tried to help Locksley.

I offered him
a station of honor,

head forester,
he spat on it.

Defied the very law
he swore to serve.

- He knew the penalty.
- He was a good man.

And yet one of your own
testified against him.

A Saxon?

Alwin, the forester.

It was his word
that condemned Hugh Locksley.

I didn't start
these troubles, Gamewell.

In fact, I did everything
in my power to prevent them.

I sought peace.

But my hand was forced.

So, here we are.

Robin Hood will pay
for his crimes,

just as his father did
before him.

The rope will tighten.

And the world will move on.

Except for anyone who gets
between myself and the boy.

I read you wrong, Marian.

I'd've thought
a woman of ambition

would prefer the courts of men
to the fields of God.

I prefer beauty,
wherever I find it.

Beauty is an interesting thing,
isn't it?

It requires
both patience and control.

Control?

Doesn't beauty flourish best
when left untamed?

Well, that depends.

Some things left to grow wild
become magnificent.

Others become weeds.

Perhaps that is the burden
of the gardener,

to know the difference.

Unfortunately, Your Highness,

today I feel
more a weed than flower.

Now that, Marian,
is the first thing

you've ever been wrong about.

Hm, gardens here
should be grander.

Like at Fontainebleau,
have you been?

I'll take you someday.

That is,
if you stop disappearing.

- Disappearing?
- You always seem to find

a reason to slip
from my soirées,

just before
they get interesting.

Your mother's presence tends
to complicate matters.

Well, she won't always be here.

When she's gone,
much will change.

New rulers, new alliances.

Perhaps even
a new queen one day.

A new queen?

Who would dare wish
for such a thing?

It's not a wish, Marian.

It is an inevitability.

Time ends all things.

And all people.

Tell me, don't you ever wish
for something greater

than what you were given?

Sometimes, yes.

Of course you do.

A woman like you isn't
meant to simply exist.

She's meant to have...

whatever she wants.

And you shall, Maid Marian.

All you must do...

is speak it.

A curse upon you.

Because of you,
good Saxons will hang,

your uncle among them.

What are you talking about?

Your uncle and four more,
the Sheriff took them.

Punishment for what you did
to Baron Warick.

And he'll hang them all,
unless you turn yourself in.

My uncle is guilty of nothing.

He did everything

to live by their customs.

He respected their laws,
he paid his taxes.

Sent his only son to court
and this is his repayment?

Betrayal... execution.

What if we bargain?

Offer them gold
for Gamewell's life?

Sheriff's a kingsman,
not a merchant.

What I'd do is return the gold
to Warick and hang him anyway.

Then I'll turn myself in.

No, you won't.

He'll make you watch the others
die and then kill you.

He's out to make a point.

There's no way around it.

We will ride to Nottingham
to free them.

Mm, a fight,
a language I understand.

Assaulting
a Norman castle is suicide.

We've done it before
and we're all still here.

They didn't know
we were coming then.

Well, what do you suggest, Tuck?
We just leave them to die?

No, no, that's not
what I'm suggesting.

But if you go head-on...

you will all die.

You, your uncle, everyone.

And you know
another way, hm?

Saxons built that castle.

I bet that castle holds secrets.

It does. First day
I was locked up,

I shared a wall
with a stonemason.

He kept on about escaping
through a sally port.

What's that?

It was a bit
of a secret entrance,

as I understand it.

Built for slipping out
during a siege.

He's right. Lightly tucked
along the eastern wall,

closest to the tree line.

If the Sheriff was ever to run,
that's where he'd go.

Even if we get in,

we'd still be blind.

No.

I know every passage.

Every stairwell.
The halls for servants.

I can lead us through.

You sure?

I'm sure.

Then we go.

At night, in and out.

Before the Sheriff realizes
his cage is empty.

Hiding?

No, thinking.

I missed you.

While you were gone.

You kissed me.

Did you like it?

I did.

Then why did you stop?

Why didn't you take me to bed?

It wouldn't've been right.

Why?

You still love her.

I can make you forget her.

Let me.

No more being noble.

We could die tonight.

But if we don't,

you will take me to bed.

You look as though
you've taken a wrong turn.

A little far from Nottingham,
I suppose.

I'm looking for the east wing.

Earl Marshal's chambers.

The east wing?

I think you'd be
more at home in the south.

- The south?
- The servants' quarters.

You...

must be Celene de Fitzou,

servant to the Queen.

Always at Eleanor's heels,
as I hear.

From Nottingham,
you hear much.

I suppose gossip travels quickly
in such small circles.

Oh, I don't gossip.
I listen.

It's how I decipher
the meaningful

from the meaningless.

And yet, it seems,

you still haven't
found your way.

Perhaps you've been listening
to the wrong people.

Perhaps you speak

with more confidence
than knowledge.

A common flaw
amongst those that serve.

Do enjoy your stay,
Lady Priscilla.

You'll find
where you belong eventually.

The palace has
a way of sorting people

into their proper place.

Priests say...

rushing wind
is the breath of God.

Ah, well,
Saxons say it's the wind.

You're troubled.

We do what must be done.

Still, it will be difficult.

Mm, yes.

Assaulting a Norman castle
is a bold attack.

So bold, in fact,
it may even

reach the ears
of the King in France.

You've been speaking
to Little John?

Only because you are
keeping something from me.

That wasn't hard to see.

You're leading them all
toward danger.

Perhaps death.

Do you know why?

To save our elders.

My uncle amongst them.

You want to keep
your bargain with the Queen?

This has nothing
to do with that.

Are you so sure?

Of all the lies
a man can tell,

none more dangerous
than the ones he tells himself.

You're complicating it, Tuck.

I fight tonight
because someone has to.

If not, innocent men will die.

Everybody's ready, Rob.

We move fast, quiet,

we don't stop
until our people are free.

Let's go kill some Normans.

And save some Saxons too,
God willing.

Guard, guard, guard, guard...

Are you sure
you can find it?

I already have.

All right, you make
your way to the stables

and loose the horses.
To the dungeons, Milange.

Uh, Rob...

don't die.

- To the right.
- Rob!

Uncle!

You shouldn't have come.

But then who would keep you
from the noose, old man?

Rob.

Bless you, my boy.

All right, all right.

We've bought ourselves
minutes, not hours,

- so let's not waste them.
- This way.

- Their guard--
- We can go through this way.

- Straight across.
- What?

- Everyone in.
- Get the elders.

Get across, straight across,
straight across there.

Robin Hood, I presume.

Did you really think you could
slip in here so easily?

I suppose I did.

At best, you're half the man
your father was.

Still just a boy.

John.

Get everyone out the front,
I'll distract the Sheriff.

Kill them.

Now.

Henry, get out!

They're coming!

No, no,
no, no, no, no...

- No-no-no-no.
- No, go.

Go!

Locksley!

Locksley!

Okay, horses.

This doesn't count as stealing.

Where did you think
you could run?

I'm not running, Sheriff.

I came for you.

Hurry up, men!

It's over, Locksley.

Do what your father could not.

Admit your crimes.

Pay the penalty.

Not today!

Then you'll die
like your father did,

alone, beaten,
already forgotten.

Get after him!

- We jump!
- What?!

Ready?

Rob! Get on!

Uncle, get on!

- John!
- Quickly, quickly!

We need to go now!

Get on!

- Get on! Get on!
- No! No!

- Go, Tuck, go!
- We can't leave Henry.

Go!

No sign of them.

They vanished into the forest
like spirits.

Unfortunate.

It would have been cleaner
had Hood died here.

And the others?

The outlaws freed them.

- All of them?
- Every last one.

Good.

I now have eyes and ears
in Robin Hood's camp.

A finer theater
than Nottingham, isn't it?

And yet I find all the players
much the same.

What do you make of them?

Small.

Then I suppose it's only fair
you remind them of their place.

And how would one do that,
My Lord?

You are Lady Priscilla
of Nottingham.

Mm-hm.

Daughter
of the Sheriff of Nottingham.

Goddaughter to the King.

And you're on the arm
of the Earl Marshal of Pembroke.

Let them see you.

Mud... and worms.

No memory, no meaning.

Just dead and gone.

He didn't die
for nothing, Ralph.

He died fighting
for something that matters.

We shouldn't have
left him behind.

We had to.

This isn't a farewell.

This isn't honoring Henry.

This is pageantry.

Smoke and ceremony.

I know
how you feel now, Rob.

I see it now.

I see why you are
the way you are.

And I want what you want.

I want blood.

His Lordship,
Earl Marshal of Pembroke,

and Lady Priscilla
of Nottingham

will now perform
the Lovers' Dance.

Standing on the edge of life
doesn't suit you, Marian.

Come, dance with me.

Surely there are
others here

more deserving
of Your Grace's attention.

Yet I stand before you,
not them.

If a prince asks me to dance,

who am I to refuse?

"All your victories abroad

will count for nothing

if you tarry any longer.

England waits.

But your enemies do not
wait idly.

The crown isn't
merely worn, Richard,

it must be guarded
and defended.

In your absence, lesser men
set their eyes upon it.

Even now, there are those
whispering your name less

and John's more.

You must return.

If you don't...

you'll find yourself
king of nothing

but distant memories
and hollow victories.

I remain Eleanor,

Queen of England,
by the grace of God."

I told you it would sting.

You'll have to live with it
for a while until it heals.

I've lived with worse.

I was wrong.

You've built something here.

A home, a cause.

A place where Saxons
and those cast aside

can stand together.

When I told you to leave,
I didn't understand that.

Now I do.

There's something else.

The Sheriff spoke to me
of your father's death.

Told me a heinous truth.

It was a Saxon
who betrayed him.

A Saxon.

Who?

Alwin.

You were in the castle the night
my father was condemned.

- Yes.
- Who was there?

Um, just...

the Sheriff, the Bishop,

Earl Huntingdon...

and another man.

A forester, I think.

- He had a hood.
- Was he tall?

- Red of hair?
- Yes.

You, take her!

No! No!

No, Rob, no! No! Stop!

He's gone mad, help me!

Rob, what are you doing?

He's gone mad, help--

This man conspired
against my father

with the Sheriff
of Nottingham.

He betrayed him
to the death,

and now he will receive
his just rewards.

- Wait, Rob, please--
- Deny it!

I didn't mean for it
to happen!

I didn't know
he would be hanged!

How was I to know?

The Normans...

they poison men like you...

to turn
against your own,

to protect their thrones,

their power, their gold.

You let them.

You turned on us all.

Robert.

He did this to himself.

This is what betrayal earns.