All language subtitles for Black.Sails.S04E09.1080p.BluRay.x265-RARBG

Your plan failed.

We're moving
on to my plan.

Go get it.
Bring it up here
right now.

Go get what?

We had it in our hands.

This war was breathing air.
It was alive.

Do not ask me
to choose between
a war and a wife.

Skeleton Island,

well outside
the established
trade route.

It's no accident
that Billy chose it--

a place likely to put
us all out of balance.

That man, I have it
on good authority,

claims to have been
to Skeleton Island,
and can show us the way.

I find myself in need
of a new partner.

If our cause
is to survive,

some of us must find
a way to keep our wits
about us

on behalf of those
who cannot.

I sent six of my men
after him.

I instructed them
to kill Captain Flint.

*

*

What are we
looking at?

Nassau.

Thereabouts.

A few days
over the horizon,

just waiting
for us.

Can't you see it?

After I just climbed
that fucking hill,

are you being
serious right now?

In a few weeks time,

I will lead a pirate fleet
of unprecedented strength
over that horizon

into a battle
of unprecedented importance.

With a little luck,

that battle will end
with us taking Nassau
and beginning a revolution.

I cannot do it
without you.

So it would
benefit all involved,
you not the least,

if, when the battle begins,
you aren't killed by
the first fool

lucky enough to swing
a sword your way.

You wanna teach me
to fight?

I know you know
how to fight.

I want to teach you
how to fight and not die.

You'll have
more control with that.

I know how you feel
about being seen
without the leg,

but when the fighting
truly begins,

all that matters
is what makes for
the greatest...

advantage.

The men...

I have to manage
how they see me.

I understand
that's part of my job.

But for pride
to be an issue
between you and I...

well, I--

I think we're playing
past that by now.

Don't you?

Hmm.

*

Do you really imagine
a few weeks of this

is going to make
much of a difference?

Am I not what I am
at this point?

It's better
than nothing.

Right.

You're not concerned
about this?

Concerned?

Well, you say you'll be
teaching me to fight.

But if every man
fights differently,

seems to me
what you'll really
be teaching me

is how to defeat you.

I'll take my chances.

Shall we?

*

Tell me you know
where they are.

Laid eyes on Flint
and the other just
as we entered the trees.

At some distance,
but we saw them.

Sent the men after them.

Carrying that chest,
they won't get far.

Well, Flint doesn't
need to get far.

All he needs is to bury
that gold somewhere unknown
and he's won.

How long did
he give you?

The governor.

He said I have
till sunrise tomorrow
to return the cache.

But I don't think
we're going to have
that long.

He gave me the time
for his benefit, not mine.

He's preparing
to make a move.

I know not what,
but he's preparing for it.

And there's little
I can do about it until
I secure that chest

and have it
to bargain with.

*

Which one of them
is going to prevail?

Which one?

Mr. Silver
assures me he can retrieve
the cache from Flint

and resume our transaction
on its original terms.

If he is incorrect...

I will have some
difficult choices
to make.

You know
the two of them.

Now that they're
facing each other
as opponents,

I'm asking
what sort of outcome
I should expect.

Silver has the men.

And...

Flint is
on his own out there
and disadvantaged.

That said...

Flint's been on his own
and disadvantaged

countless times
since I've known him.

And here we are.

I suppose
what I'm saying is...

if I were you,
I would assume
the worst...

and act accordingly now
while you know
you still can.

My lord,
the mist is heavy.

It may be
our best chance

to move with
minimal casualties.

I'd like
to see her again.

She'll never accept
your offer.

You are, for now,

a necessary evil here.

Do not test
my patience.

Bring her up
from below.

Now.

What's this?

We tracked him this far,
but the trail splits in two.

Well, it seems he may intend
to divide our numbers,

improve his chances.

If they say
you know his mind
as if it were your own,

we thought you might have
a better idea which way
he went than we could.

How in the fuck
would I know which way
he decided to go?

All Flint needs
is an hour, maybe less,

to conceal that chest
in a way we couldn't
hope to recover.

Every moment we stand
here deliberating

is a moment closer
to his victory.

The three of you,
that way.

You,
the other trail now!

He's right.

Flint likely seeks
to separate them,
gain an advantage.

I know.

So it's likely
you've just sent

one of those two groups
to their death.

As long as they expose
his position.

I wonder if he knows...

just how much
you learned from him.

*

Your opponent's wrist

is from whence
the attack is born.

It is its past tense
from which it cannot
separate itself.

The end of the blade,
where the attack arrives,

is its present tense,

which also cannot
be denied.

You're still
watching my eyes.

which is a good way
of getting yourself killed.

How exactly is one
supposed to watch

two points in space
at the same time?

Practice.

All warfare
is the same.

Two questions are
of paramount importance--

who was my opponent
yesterday,

and who is he today?

Answer those two questions,
and there is very little
he can...

hide from you.

What?

Who you were.

I have no idea
who you were.

Not before we found you,
at any rate.

Jesus Christ,

don't do that.

If you want to know
where I come from,
just ask.

I think I just did.

You know
all there is to know.

I was born
in Whitechapel,
never knew my mother.

I had a wholly
unremarkable youth.

Spent most of it
at a home for--
Home for boys.

I know, I know.

You, uh-- you told me
once or twice of your
experiences there.

Except it isn't true.

Is it?

Why would you
say that?

I remember when
you first told me,

it sounded like
a... invention.

*

About one story
that bled into others

I'd heard
told elsewhere
to the crew.

I didn't think
much of it at the time.

I suppose I assumed
that if you ever became
somebody worth knowing,

I'd learn the truth
of it eventually.

Only...

in this moment,
I'm realizing that
never happened.

And what is
of some concern
to me is that...

despite how invested
we each are in the future
of the other...

you just told me
that story again.

Why is that?

It isn't important.

All right.

Although, you know
that isn't true either.

Why isn't it true?

I'm sorry,
the more I try
and dismiss this, I...

*

You know my story.

Thomas, Miranda,
all of it.

Know the role it played
in motivating me

to do the things
that I've done,

the things I will do.

It has made me
transparent to you.

Not only that,
but when I told you
this story,

you insinuated
yourself into it.

The latest in a line
of ill-fated partners,

situating yourself
such that

were you and I ever
to come to blows...

I'd be forced
to hesitate before
doing you any harm.

Slow down--
I'm not angry with you.

It's just...

you know my story.

And for some reason,
I cannot figure...

I don't want you
to know mine.

Wait a minute.

I-- I understand
your concern.

I just...

We'll resume tomorrow.
Is that all right?

*

We found him.

I don't see the chest.

Track marks
go back 200 yards.

He dragged it here.

Should we fetch
Mr. Hands?

We should head back.

*

You sailed with Avery.

Long time ago.

20 years?

More, even,
maybe?

More, aye.

Mm-hmm.

You do know
where you're going, yes?

No, seriously,
I've got quite a lot
riding on this.

One day, you'll leave
the account.

Take a wife,
father children.

See less and less
of the sea

until she becomes like
a painting hanging
on the wall,

static and irrelevant

to your daily existence.

But she'll keep on
calling you.

And when she does,

you'll step
into that painting

and feel the swell
beneath your feet.

It'll all come back

as if it were
like yesterday.

Is that so?

I've watched
you and yours

handle the account
since I and mine left it.

Accomplish things
that no one I ever sailed with

could dream of.

From what I've overheard,

if you reach
Skeleton Island,

might mean the end
of the governor.

Maybe keep the account alive
a little while longer.

Is that so?

That and more.

Then I'll take you
to it.

Hold on to this
for as long as you can

for all of us
who once had it

and walked away.

You have no idea
the restraint this takes.

How urgent the instinct
towards violence.

How certain the conviction
that it would be deserved,

given what you
and your partners
have destroyed,

what you've taken
from me.

To me,

compromise seems
a loathsome, unbearable act.

What compromise
can there be

with the man responsible
for the death of my wife?

Or with those
who would follow him?

You're luckier
than you know...

...so much luckier
than you know

that in this moment I can
still hear the faintest
of voices in my head

arguing against
the alternative.

If I must compromise
to avert a dark end,

then so must you.

I've offered you freedom
for your people.

I have offered you
more than you have
any right to expect.

And still,
you will not say yes.

So I've come to you
one last time

to ensure
you cannot say no.

Accept the treaty...
I will consider
no treaty of yours.

...and John Silver lives.

Refuse...

and he dies...

along with
the rest of the men
who followed him here.

Though, from what
I understand,

he is the one
who matters most to you.

The one with whom
you might lead a life

if you can set aside
your pride in this moment.

Do not make
the same mistake I did.

Do the deal.

The voice you hear
in your head...

I imagine I know
who it sounds like,

as I know Eleanor
wanted those things.

But I hear other voices.

A chorus of voices.

Multitudes.

They reach back centuries.

Men and women

and children
who lost their lives

to men like you.

Men and women
and children

forced to wear
your chains.

I must answer to them

and this war.

Their war.

Flint's war.

My war.

It will not
be bargained away
to avoid a fight,

to save
John Silver's life

or his men's

or mine.

And you believe
what you will,

but it was neither
I nor Flint

nor the Spanish raider
who killed your wife.

That, you did.

Sergeant.

Take her below.

Are your men ready?
They are, my lord.

Then we move now.

Ready the launches.

Any sign of them?
No.

Nor the chest,
nor any trail
for either.

We should move.

Move where?

Flint's almost certainly
disposed of the cache by now.

For all we know,
he's headed back
to the Walrus as we speak.

Leverages his sole knowledge
of the chest's location

to gain control
of the men.

Then maybe attempts
to rescue Madi,
maybe not.

Maybe he's already
factored her death
into this.

A martyr
to feed the cause.

Fuck him...

for dictating
this outcome to me,

for swearing
his friendship
falsely to me,

for his arrogance,

his indifference.

So, what are you
gonna do about it?

You've been warned
so many times...

by Billy, by me,
by Flint's own actions.

And despite that,
despite this,

I think when
we meet him again,

you will look for reasons
to forget it all again.

You've come all this way,
traveled all this distance,

and when he starts talking,

you won't have learned
a goddamn thing.

We've come all this way.

How far are we
from where the paths split?

Hm.

Two hundred yards,
give or take.

More.

He never would have got
this far ahead of your men
carrying that chest.

The chest
was never here.

He left it behind.

You think they'll
figure it out that
we dropped it down here?

We need to get it
in the ground.

Come on.

Heard some talk in the camp
before we left.

They were talking about
what happens when it's over--

if the war ends up
what everyone says
it will be--

about the spoils
we all stand to gain
from it.

But what you're
talking about is bigger
than that, isn't it?

But if we succeed--
if we are to succeed

and leave this island
with the alliance intact,

I'm having a hard time
seeing how Mr. Silver

can be a part
of that now.

He'll come round.

Once she's safe,

then he'll be able
to see things clearly again.

I hope so.

If not,
if he needs to go...

You're too important
to what comes next to have
to bear a burden like that.

So, when the time comes,
I'll do it.

Fuck!

You're still
leaning forward.

Let's go again.

I have no story to tell.

It all might seem
as though I'm trying

to conceal something
from you, but...

truth is...

there is no story
to tell.

No one's past
is that unremarkable.

Not unremarkable,
just...

without relevance.

A long time ago,
I absolved myself

from the obligation
of finding any.

No need to account
for all my life's events

in the context of a story
that somehow...

defines me.

Events, some of which,
no one could divine
any meaning from...

other than that
the world is a place
of unending horrors.

I've come to peace
with the knowledge

that there is
no storyteller

imposing any coherence,

nor sense, nor grace
upon those events.

Therefore,
there's no duty on my part
to search for it.

You know of me
all I can bear
to be known.

All that is relevant
to be known.

That is to say, you know
my genuine friendship

and loyalty.

Can that be enough
and there still be
trust between us?

*

Again.

We're nearing
the turn point.

Good.

That's good.

Once the range marks
align,

we'll have
a sense what direction
we're to head in

to reach the island.

How far out,
do you think?

Oh...

could be few days,

maybe less.

When we sailed
for the Urca gold,

I remember something
of this feeling.

So much to be gained.

But this is different,

isn't it?

How so?

Well, then,

even a complete
and thorough success

meant
a qualified victory.

On some level,
whether we were prepared

to acknowledge it
out loud or not,

I believe we both knew
the fortune would
likely cause

as many problems
as it would solve.

But now,

if that man out there
can fulfill his promise to us,

if we can
prevail over Flint
and the governor--

and I feel we can--

I don't know why,
but I feel it.

Am I mad?

Tell me.
I'm asking.

I don't think you are.

I've...

thought the same thing.

The result ahead of us

promises to be a victory

of a different sort.

A true victory.

Freedom...

in every sense
of the word.

How many men
in the history of the world
have ever known it?

How remarkable
a moment is this?

How fortunate
are we to be standing
on the threshold of it?

Yes?

What is it?

James said he saw him
clutch for his chest.

Then...
he just dropped.

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Should we...?
Mm-hmm.

His heart gave out.

So, you asked him
to recount for you

what he knew
days ago, yes?

Of course.
Of course you did.
Good.

And you can get us
to our destination
without his assistance,

yes?

His heart gave out!

Do not fuck with me.

Of course I can, truly.

I'm almost certain
I can figure it out.

Get the fuck up and sail.

All is well?

I thought I heard it.

Thought you heard
what?

A woman.

Or what sounded
like a woman.

Wailing...

just faintly
from the trees.

Mr. Wallis swears
he saw a mermaid

swimming beneath
the surface.

Mr. Jones heard
the voice of his mother

accusing him
of infidelity
to her memory.

The mind is prone
to mischief,
I suppose.

Mm-hmm.

Especially in a place
like this...

...remote and...

full of stories.

There are no monsters
in the dark...

though there are
dangers.

Let's take care
to tell the difference.

Lay our attention
on the latter.

*

*

*

*

*

Fuck!

*

*

*

Hey, the hold's on fire!

What happened?

Men in the water!

Launches in the water!

From the Eurydice!

Oh, good God.

Don't wait for me!
Go!

They'll be upon us soon.

You'll have to put it
in the ground.

Can you do it?

I'll stall them.

Jesus!

We need to get above.

You said our only chance
of saving the ship is
to flood this hold.

It's too far gone.

In a couple of minutes
that fire will reach
the magazine.

What choice do we have?

Abandon ship.

Abandon ship!

- Abandon ship!
- All hands!

*

It would be
preferable to me

if we resolved this
another way.

Cache is in the ground
by now.

And I'll need
as many men as we can get

for what comes next.

That includes you.

He'll be here in a moment.

You still think
you'll persuade him
to see this all your way?

I don't think so.

But I'd prefer
not to find out.

That's enough!

Tell me where it is.

I can't do that.

Fuck you!
Where is it?

You're making
a mistake.

Fuck you!
Where is it?

In the ground...

where it stays
until Madi is freed,

and we gather it
and return it
to the camp,

all of us.

I know you cannot see
why this must be.

But it must be.

And every moment
we waste is a moment

we could be working
to retrieve her.

That's all this
has ever been, isn't it?

A partnership only insofar
as it enables you

to do whatever it is
that matters to you
in any given moment.

And right now it matters
far less to you whether
she lives or dies

than it happens
your way, on your terms.

I think you know
it's far more complicated
than that.

I'm certain she does.

Hup!

Even if you
could kill me,

even if that
somehow helped you
see her alive again,

how are you going
to explain it to her?

She believes in this
as much as I do.

You know this.

If it costs the war
to save her,

you'll have lost her
anyway.

Even you cannot
construct a story

to make her
forgive you that.

You do this,

and you're
gonna regret it.

*

No! Don't!

*

Swim for the shore!
Try to reach the shore!

Get to the shore!
Away from the ship!

Can't you see it?

It isn't utility
that's behind his
investment in me...

nor necessity,
nor dependency.

I understand you fear
a false motive.

But this much
is clear to me now...

I have earned his respect.

After all the tragedies
that man has suffered...

...the loss of Thomas,

the events
of Charles Town...

I have earned his trust.

I have
his true friendship...

and so he's going
to have mine.

And as long
as that is true,

I cannot imagine
what is possible.