All language subtitles for Outlander.S01E01.Sassenach.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD.5.1.H.265-SiGMA_Subtitles01

[ ominous music ]

♪

People disappear all the time.

Young girls run
away from home.

Children stray
from their parents

and are never seen again.

Housewives take
the grocery money,

and a taxi
to the train station.

Most are found eventually.

Disappearances, after all,
have explanations.

Usually.

Strange,
the things you remember.

Single images and feelings

that stay with you
down through the years.

Like the moment I'd realized
I'd never owned a vase.

That I'd never
lived in any place

long enough to justify
having such a simple thing.

And how at that moment,

I wanted nothing so much
in all the world

as to have a vase
of my very own.

It was a Tuesday afternoon.

Six months
after the end of the war.

[ men moaning, crying ]

MAN:
Oh, oh God...!

Oh, God!
Oh, oh God!

Hold him, hold him right now,
you hear me?

Jesus!

[ wailing, panting ]

MAN 2:
Here, quickly!

[ moaning ]

WOMAN:
Doctor, doctor!

I'll have to clamp the femoral
artery before he bleeds out.

It's all right.
You're going home.

You're going home.

[ wailing ]Oh, my God!

Oh, Jesus.Move!

We've got him
now, nurse.

Scalpel.

[ people laughing,
cheering in distance ]

[ horn honking ]

Claire, did you hear?
It's over!

It's really finally over!
[ laughs ]

[ crowd cheering ]

[ orchestral music ]

CLAIRE:
Somehow in my mind, V-E Day,

the end of the bloodiest

and most terrible war
in human history,

grows fainter
with each passing day.

But I can still recall
every detail of the day

when I saw the life I wanted
sitting in a window.

I sometimes wonder
what would've happened

if I'd bought that vase
and made a home for it.

Would that have changed things?

Would I have been happy?
Who can say?

I do know this: even now,
after all the pain

and death and heartbreak
that followed,

I still would make
the same choice.

♪ Sing me a song of a lass
that is gone ♪

♪ Say, could that lass be I?

♪ Merry of soul
she sailed on a day ♪

♪ Over the sea to Skye

♪ Billow and breeze,
islands and seas, ♪

♪ Mountains of rain and sun

♪ All that was good,
all that was fair ♪

♪ All that was me is gone

♪ Sing me a song of a lass
that is gone ♪

♪ Say, could that lass be I?

♪ Merry of soul
she sailed on a day ♪

♪ Over the sea

♪ To Skye...

♪

[ swing music playing ]

We were in Scotland
on our second honeymoon.

Or at least that's
what Frank called it.

A way to celebrate
the end of the war years

and begin our lives anew.

But it was more than that.

I think we both felt a holiday
would be a convenient
masquerade

for the real business
of getting to know

the people we'd become
after five years apart.

FRANK:
What do you suppose that is?

Huh, oh, good Lord.
Blood.

You sure?

Think I should know
the look of blood by now.

There's a stain just like
it on the house next door.

There's two more over there.

We seem to be surrounded
by homes marked with blood.

Perhaps Pharaoh
has refused Moses,

and the spirit of death

will travel the streets
of Inverness tonight,

sparing only those who mark
their doors with lamb's blood.

Well, you may be
closer than you think.

Could well be some sort
of sacrificial ritual,

but I suspect Pagan
rather than Hebrew.

I had no idea Inverness

was such a hotbed
of contemporary Paganism.

Oh, my dear,
there's no place on Earth

with more magic
and superstition

mixed into its daily life
than the Scottish Highlands.

Hm.
Shall we?

Lead on.

[ ticking ]

The blood you saw
is that of a black cockerel.

It's an old custom
at this time of year

to make such a sacrifice
to honor Saint Odhran.

Ah, Odhran.

He was sainted in the--
the eighth century?

Oh, you know your history.

I'm afraid my husband
is a historian, Mrs. Baird.

He'd quite happily stand here
holding forth for hours

if you encourage him.Oh hardly.

No, Highland folklore
is far from my speciality,

but am I right
in thinking there's--

isn't there an old saying
associated with Saint Odhran?

[ speaks Gaelic ]

Yes, "the Earth went
over Odhran's eyes."

He, um--he was buried
alive, voluntarily.

Charming.

Are you a professor,
then, Mr. Randall?

I will be soon. MRS. BAIRD: Oh.

He's accepted a post at Oxford
beginning in two weeks.

Ah, then this
is a last holiday

before settling down
to workaday life again, is it?

Well, you've picked
a bonny time to be here.

Just nigh on Samhain.

I take it that's Gaelic
for "Halloween"?

Well, Halloween
is derived from Samhain.

The--church often took
Pagan holidays,

renamed them for their
own purposes, so,

Samhain became Halloween,
Yule became Christmas, so on.

Well, you're both welcome
at the festival, of course.

Mind you, ghosts are freed
on the feast days.

They'll be wandering about,

free to do good or ill
as they please.

Of course, what would
Halloween, Samhain,

be without
a good ghost story?

Oh, and we have
those, for sure.

I'll show you to your room.

Before the war
we were inseparable.

But for the next five years,

we saw each other
a grand total of 10 days.

It's not without
its charms.

Beats an army tent
and a cot in the mud.

Indeed.

When the war ended, we both
thought things would return

to the way they once were,
but they hadn't.

[ sighs ]

[ bed squeaking ]

Gosh.[ chuckles ]

So much for marital privacy.

Do you think
the sound carries?

Um...

I think it's fair to say
Mrs.--Baird will be kept

appraised of any renewed
attempt to start a family.

Ahem.

Lazy bones.
Hmm?

You'll never manage the next
branch in your family tree

if you don't show
more industry than that.

Oh, really?

[ springs squeaking ]

What are you doing?

[ giggles ]
Come on.

Mrs. Randall,
what am I to do with you?

Right.

[ giggles ]What are you doing?

You're gonna break the bed.

[ loud thumping ]

[ both laughing ]

You know, one of those things
I used to try and remember,

lying in my cot was the sound
of my husband's laugh.

I couldn't conjure it
no matter what I did.

Couldn't hear it,
even though I'd heard it

a million times before.

It's the strangest thing.

I know.

I used to, um...

I used to sketch this.

My hand?
Mm-hmm.

Well, the lines, really.

Why, exactly,
I'm not sure,

but I had a very clear memory
of this--this pattern.

Made little doodles everywhere.

There was, um...

a Brigadier once dressed
me down because I drew it

in the margin of a report
for the Minister.

Yeah.

[ sighs ]

Claire.

Shh.

[ slower thumping ]

[ upbeat big band music ]

Happy?

Yes.

Frank's passion for history

was another reason
for choosing the Highlands.

You see up there?

Up on top there,
that's Cocknammon Rock.

And in the 17th and 18th
centuries,

you would have often found
British army patrol up there

lying in wait for Scottish
rebels and brigands.

Can you see how it commands the
high ground in every direction?

It was a perfect position
for an ambush.

Not that I minded.

I was raised by my uncle
after the death of my parents.

[ man speaking
in foreign language ]

Uncle Lamb was an
archaeologist.
Ah, yes.

So I'd spent the balance
of my formative years

traipsing through dusty ruins,

and various excavations
throughout the world.

I had learned to dig latrines
and boil water,

and do a number
of other things

not suitable for a young lady
of gentle birth.

Uncle.

Oh, yes.
The very thought.

[ laughs ]

Frank's newfound passion
was genealogy.

His personal genealogy,
that is.

Mine was botany.

I'd developed a keen interest

in the use of plants and herbs
for medicinal purposes.

So from what I can gather,

Castle Leoch
was the ancestral home

of the Laird
of the MacKenzie clan

until midway through
the 19th century.

Hmm.

Here, take a look.

In a way, burying himself
in the distant past

gave Frank an ability
to escape the recent.

While I was in the army,

Frank had served in London,
intelligence,

overseeing spies
and running covert operations.

So, I think this might've
been the kitchen.

Really?
Mm.

I would say
that's probably a hearth.

Yeah.

Strange.

I have no evidence that my
ancestor visited this castle,

but it was within
his operational sphere, so...

it's just possible

that he walked
these very halls.

He'd sent dozens of men behind
the lines on secret missions.

And most never came back.

He didn't talk
about it very often,

but I knew it preyed on him.

[ door thumps ]

It won't open.

Oh, come on.

Three, two, one.

[ breathes deeply ]

What do you think
this was used for?

From the lack of proper
lighting and ventilation,

I would say...

province of the Castle hermit?[ chuckles ]

Perhaps a troll or two.

I don't think
trolls live in pairs.

Solitary creatures, they.

[ chuckles ]

More's the pity.

All this...

and no one to share it with.

You'll get dirty.

You can give me a bath.

Why, Mrs. Randall,

I do believe you've left
your undergarments at home.

[ chuckles ]

[ inhales ]

[ breathing deeply ]

FRANK:
Yes.

Yes, yes, yes,
I found him.

Oh, indeed.
Let's have a look.

"Him"?

Is it--is it Walter?No, darling, Jonathan.

Jonathan Wolverton Randall.
Finally.

Captain of Dragoons
in the British army

and your direct ancestor.Exactly.

Otherwise known as "Black Jack,"
a rather dashing nickname

that he probably acquired
while he was stationed here

in the 1740s.

The reverend has found
a series of army dispatches

that mention
the captain by name.

Oh, how exciting.Mm. It is.

Good to see all your sleuthing
over the past week has paid off.

Hmm.Hm.

Yes, I was
beginning to wonder.

It appears Black Jack

commanded the garrison
at Fort William

for four years or so.

Seems to have spent
quite a bit of his time

harassing the Scottish
countryside

on behalf of the Crown.

Well, he was hardly alone
in that endeavor.

The English were
deeply unpopular

throughout the Highlands
in the 18th century.

And well into the 20th,
it would seem.

I distinctly heard the barman
in the pub last night

refer to us as
"Sassenachs."

[ chuckles ]Mm.

Well, I hope you didn't
take offense.

It only means "Englishman,"
after all.

Or--at worst,
"outlander."

Mm.

I've brought you a wee bit
of refreshment, gentlemen.

I brought but the two cups,

for I thought perhaps
Mrs. Randall

might care to join
me in the kitchen--

Yes.

Yes, absolutely.
Thank you.

See you later.

[ sighs ]This--person here...

Mm.

Ah, it's been so long since
I've had a good cup of oolong.

Aye.

I couldn't 'a get it
during the war.
Hm.

It's best for
the readings, though.

Oh, I had a terrible time
with that Earl Grey.

The leaves fall
apart so fast

it's hard to tell
anything at all.

[ thunder rumbles in distance ]

So you read
tea leaves, then?

Like my grandmother
taught me.

And her grandmother
before that.

Drink up your cup.
Let's see what we've got there.

Well?

Am I going to meet
a tall, dark stranger

and take a trip across the sea?[ chuckles ] Could be.

Or could not.

Everything in it's
contradictory.

There's a curved leaf,
which indicates a journey,

but it's crossed
by a broken one,

which means staying put.Hmm.

And there are strangers there,
to be sure, several of them.

And one of them's your husband,
if I read the leaves aright.

Show me your hand, dear.

Odd.

Most hands have
a likeness to them.

There are patterns,
you know?

But...

this is a pattern
I've not seen before.

Oh.

The large thumb, now,
means that you're strong-minded

and you've a will
not easily crossed.

And this is your
mount of Venus.

Well, in a man, it means
he likes the lasses.

But 'tis a bit different
for a woman.

To be polite about it,

your husband isn't 'a likely
to stray far from your bed.

[ laughs ]

The lifeline's,
interrupted,

all bits and pieces.

The marriage line's divided.

Means two marriages.

But...

most divided lines
are broken.

Yours is...

forked.

Eh, I--suspect, your
ancestor had a patron.

A prominent and--powerful
man who could protect him

from the censure
of his superiors.

FRANK:
Possibly, but it would have

to have been someone
very high up

in the hierarchy
of the day

to exert that kind of
influence.
REVEREND: Uh-huh.

The Duke of Sandringham.

The Duke of Sandringham.

Oh hold on, wasn't Sandringham
a suspected Jacobite himself?

Aye, you know,
I believe you're right.

And the duke died under
very suspicious circumstances

just before the battle of...

[ dishes rattling ]None of that, none of that.

Stand away before you do
some permanent damage.

We're getting
somewhere at last.

I'm really glad to hear it,

but I think I shall
take my leave.

Oh, so soon?

Yes, I, uh...
feel a bath is in order.

Aye, of course.

Well, I hope you'll join us
for--Samhain tomorrow night.

What, the Pagan festival?

Reverend Wakefield,
you do astonish me.

Well, I love
a good ghost story

as much as the next fellow.

Right.

Take your time, darling.

But do try to get home
before the storm breaks.

I will.

Mm.

I'd never put any stock
in superstition.

And my Catholicism
was nominal at best.

However, I couldn't
shake the feeling

that Mrs. Graham's words
had a ring of prophecy.

The war had taught me
to cherish the present

because tomorrow
might not ever come to pass.

But what I didn't
know at the time

was that tomorrow
would prove

less important than yesterday.

[ sighs ]

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

[ thunder rumbles ]

Excuse me.

Can I help you
with something?

[ electricity buzzes ]

Frank, I was hoping to have
the whole place lit up

by the time you got back.

Darling?

What's the matter?

Frank.

Hmm?

You look like
you've seen a ghost.

I'm not at all sure
that I haven't.

When he pushed past me,
he was close enough that

I should have felt him brush
my sleeve as he passed, but I--

I didn't.

And then I turned around
to say something,

and he'd gone.
He just vanished.

That's when I, felt
a chill down my spine.

Hmm.

Did you have many Scots
in your charge during the war?

Yes.
Was quite a few.

There was one in particular.

He was a piper
in the third Seaforths.

He couldn't stand
being stuck with a needle.

Was...

Right.
[ inhales ]

What is it, exactly,

that...you're
asking me, Frank?

When I saw that chap
staring up at you,

I thought he might be
someone you'd nursed.

Someone who might be
looking for you now.

To reconnect.

To "reconnect?"

It wouldn't be unusual.

It wouldn't be surprising
if you'd--

sought some comfort, or...Uh--

Are you asking me--

if I've been unfaithful?Claire...

Is that what
you think of me, Frank?

No, darling, no.
No.

All I meant was that
even if you had,

it would make
no difference to me.

I love you, and nothing
you could ever do

could stop my loving you.

[ sighs ]

Forgive me.
I...

Forgive me?

Of course.

Sex was our bridge
back to one another.

The one place
where we always met.

Whatever obstacles
presented themselves

during the day or night,

we could seek out and find
each other again in bed.

As long as we had that,

I had faith that everything
would work out.

[ church bell chiming ]

That reminds me, I, um...

I want to set an alarm.

Mm-mm, no.
Mm?

I thought we weren't
setting alarms on this trip.

[ sighs ]

I want to see the witches.
[ laughs ]

Must I ask?

Apparently there's
a circle of standing stones

on a hill just
outside the village,

and there's a local group
who still observe rituals there.

[ laughs ]

Well, they're not
actually witches.

This lot are meant
to be Druids.

But sadly I don't think they'll
be a coven of devil worshippers.

More's the pity.

Can't imagine
anything I'd rather do.

Liar.[ laughs ]

Where will we be
watching this spectacle?

A place called Craigh Na Dun.

Mm-hmm.

FRANK:
So according to local folklore,

these stones were
carried here from Africa

by a race of Celtic giants.

I wasn't aware that the Celts
made a lot of trips to Africa.

Only the giant ones.

Is that Inverness?

Yes, it must be.

[ rustling ]

Someone's coming.

Is that Mrs. Graham?

FRANK:
I think it is.

The reverend's
housekeeper's a witch.

Not a witch.
A Druid, remember?

[ ethereal music ]

♪

They should have been
ridiculous.

And perhaps they were.

Parading in circles
on top of a hill.

But the hairs
on the back of my neck

prickled at the sight.

And some small voice
inside warned me,

I wasn't supposed
to be here.

I was an unwelcome voyeur

to something
ancient and powerful.

♪

[ speaking Gaelic ]

[ women speaking
indistinctly ]

[ breathes deeply ]

Hm.

[ twig snaps ] WOMAN 2: Wait for me.

I'm caught on something.
I'll be there in a minute.

[ whispers ]
Claire.

Someone's coming.

[ whispers ]
Come on, shh.

We should go.

[ swing music playing ]

♪

What have you got there?

Mm, I'm looking
for that plant.

CLAIRE:
I think it's a forget-me-not,

but I'm not sure.

Why don't you
pop back and get it?

I was considering it.

Would you care to go with me?

Oh, darling,
I'd love to,

but I've got an appointment
with the reverend.

He found a box
of materials last night.

Bills of sale from
Black Jack's quartermaster.

That sounds
terribly exciting.

[ chuckles ]
You're laughing at me.

Never.

Shall I meet you
for dinner later?

Yes.

Love you, mwah.Love you.

Come here.

[ mysterious
acoustic guitar music ]

♪

[ wind whooshing ]

[ discordant voices ]

[ wind gusting ]

CLAIRE:
Once, traveling at night,

I fell asleep in the passenger
seat of a moving car.

Lulled by the noise
and the motion

into an illusion
of serene weightlessness.

Then the driver
took a bridge too fast.

[ crashing sounds ] and I woke to see the world

spinning outside
the car windows,

and the sickening sensation
of falling at high speed.

That is as close as I can come

to describing
what I experienced.

But it falls woefully short.

What?

[ bang ]

[ birds chirping excitedly ]

When confronted
with the impossible,

the rational mind
will grope for the logical.

[ bang ]

[ indistinct voices ]

Perhaps I had stumbled onto
the set of a cinema company

filming a costume drama
of some sort.

Aah!

[ indistinct shouting ]

[ shouts in Gaelic ]

[ shouting indistinctly ]

But there was
no logical reason

for actors to fire
live ammunition.

[ gunshot ][ gasps ]

[ bagpipe music playing ]

♪

[ gunshot ]

Frank?

What the devil
are you doing?

You're not Frank.

No, Madame, I'm not.

Who the bloody hell are you?

I'm Jonathan Randall,
Esquire.

Captain of his Majesty's
Eighth Dragoons.

At your service.

[ gasps ]
Who are you?

My husband's expecting me.

He'll come looking for me
if I'm not back in 10 minutes.

Your husband.
What's his name?

Ah!

What is his name?

Frank.

Frank what?

Frank Beauchamp.
He's a teacher.

Well, it's a pleasure to
meet you, Mrs. Frank Beauchamp,

a teacher's wife.

You must think me the fool.

You'll be well advised
to tell me

exactly who you are
and why you are here.

Madame, you will find
my patience is not infinite.

Get off me, you bastard.

[ spits ]

Ah, the speech of a lady.

The language of a whore.

I choose the whore.

[ grunts ]

Druid!

What?
Druid!

Who are you?

Where are we going?
Where are we go--

[ indistinct shouting
in distance ]

Take your men
over there!

He--
[ muffled ]

I wanted it to be a dream,
but I knew it wasn't.

[ groans ]

If nothing else, my erstwhile
savior fairly reeked of odors

too foul to be part
of any dream

I was likely to conjure up.

[ speaking Gaelic ]

Let's have a look at ye,
then, lass.

I trust you're able
to see me now.

What's your name?

I decided to continue
using my maiden name.

If they intended to ransom me,

I didn't want
to lead them back to Frank.

Claire.
Claire Beauchamp.

Claire Beauchamp.

That's right, and just what
the hell do you think you're--

You said you found her?Aye.

She was having words with
a certain captain of Dragoons

with whom we are acquaint'.

There seemed to be
some question as to whether

the lady was
or was not a whore.

And what was the lady's
position in this discussion?

I am not.

We could put it to the test.[ laughs ]

I don't hold with rape.

And we've not the time
for it, anyway.

Dougal, I've no idea
what she might be or who,

but I'll stake my best shot
she's no a whore.

We'll puzzle
it out later.

We've got a good distance
to go tonight.

And we must do something
about Jamie first.

Escape was my chief concern.
But I had no idea where I was.

And trying to find the road

back to Inverness
in the gathering darkness

felt like a fool's errand.

Out o' joint,
poor bugger.

Ye can't ride with it
like that, can you, lad?

Hurts bad enough
sitting still.

JAMIE:
I couldn't 'a manage a horse.

I don't mean to be
leaving him behind.

There's no help
for it, then.

I'll have to force
the joint back, aye.

The wisest course of action
would have been

to keep my head down,
my mouth shut, and wait

for the search parties Frank
must have called out by now.

Here, lad.[ speaks Gaelic ]

[ speaking Gaelic ]

Hold him.

[ panting ]

Don't you dare!

Stand aside at once.

You'll break his arm
if you do it like that.

You have to get
the bone of the upper arm

in the correct position
before it slips back into joint.

[ panting ]

Hold him steady.

[ panting ]

Ah...[ arm creaking ]

This is the worst part.

Gah!

[ gasping ]

Bah!

[ gasps ]

[ speaks Gaelic ]

It doesn't hurt anymore.

It will.

It will be tender
for about a week.

You'll need a sling.

You.

Fetch me a long
piece of cloth or a belt.

"Fetch me," she says.

[ chuckles ]
Do you hear that, lads?

Give her your belt.

Taking a guess
you've done this before.

I'm a nurse.

Aye.Not a wet nurse.

He mustn't move the joint
for two or three days.

When you begin to use it again,
go very slowly at first.

Stop at once if it hurts.

And use warm compresses
on it daily.

All right.
How does that feel?

Better.
Thank ye.

Can ye ride?
Aye.

Good.
We're leaving.

[ speaking Gaelic ]

Where is it?

Where's the city?
Should be visible from here.

JAMIE:
Inverness?

You're looking
straight at it.

There were no electric lights
as far as the eye could see,

so as much as my rational mind
rebelled against the idea,

I knew in my heart I was
no longer in the 20th century.

[ grunts ]

Get yerself up.

Ye be sure to stay
close to the rest of us.

And should ye
try anything else,

I shall slit
your throat for ye.

Do you understand me?

Gimme yer foot.

Give it to me.

Careful.
What are you trying to do?

I'll get my plaid
loose to cover ye.

You're shivering.

Thank you,
but I'm fine, really.

You're shaking so hard
it's making my teeth rattle.

The plaid'll
keep us both warm,

but...I canna
do it one-handed.

Can you reach?

Ah, ha.

[ speaks Gaelic ]

Don't want you to freeze
before sun up.

Sun up?

You mean we'll be
riding all night?

All night.

And the next one too,
I reckon.

A fine time of year
for a ride, though.

DOUGAL:
Druid.

You see up there?

I know this place.

Been through here before,
have ye?

Yes.

The 17th and 18th centuries,

you'd have often found
a British army patrol up there.

I recognize that rock.

CLAIRE:
The one that looks
like a cock's tail.

It has a name.

[ Jamie speaks Gaelic ]

Cocknammon Rock.

The English, they--
they used it for ambushes.

They could be lying
in wait right now.

It's a bonny place
for an ambush, right enough.

Dougal.
[ clicks tongue ]

Dougal.
Dougal.

[ speaks Gaelic ]

Now, you'll be
telling me exactly

how and why you come to know
there's an ambush up ahead.

I don't know, but I heard the
Redcoats use Cocknammon Rock--

Where did you hear?

In the village.

[ shouts ]

Hide yourself!

[ shouts in Gaelic ]

[ gunfire ]

[ horse whinnies ]

Lost yer way?

[ speaks Gaelic ]

I hope you haven't been
misusing that shoulder.

You're hurt.

This lot isn't 'a my blood.

Not much of it, anyway.

Dougal and the others
will be waiting

further up the stream.

We should go.

I'm not going with you.Yes, you are.

What, are you going to
cut my throat if I don't?

Why no?

But...

you don't look that heavy.

Now if you won't walk,

I shall pick you up
and throw you over my shoulder.

Do you want me to do that?

No.

Well, then...

I suppose that means
yer coming with me.

[ grunting ]Serves you right.

Probably torn your muscles
as well as bruising.

Well, wasn't 'a
much of a choice.

If I dinna move my shoulder,

I'd never have moved
anything else ever again.

I can handle a single Redcoat
with one hand.

Maybe even two.

Not three.

Besides, ye can
fix it for me again

when we get to
where we're going.

That's what you think.

Here's to you, lass.

For tipping us to the villains
in the rocks

and giving us
a wee bit o' fun!

[ all speak Gaelic ]

[ Jamie speaks Gaelic ]

Have a wee nip.

It willna fill your belly,

but will make you
forget you're hungry.

Stop!

Help!
He's going over!

Help me get him up.

Come on.

Lift.Take it easy.

Easy, man.

Gunshot wound.

The idiot could have
said something.

It's a clean exit.

I think the round's gone
straight through the muscle.

CLAIRE:
I don't think it's serious,

but he's lost
a lot of blood.

It'll need to be disinfected
before I can dress it properly.

Disinfect?

Yes, it must be cleaned of
dirt to protect it from germs.

Germs?

Just get me some iodine.

Merthiolate?

Alcohol?

ALL:
Oh, oh, yes, yes.

MAN 2:
Here ye go.

[ gasps ]
[ speaks Gaelic ]

Welcome back.

I'm all right,
just a wee bit dizzy.

You're not all right.

Can you tell how bad
you were bleeding?

You're lucky
you're not dead.

Brawling and fighting and
throwing yourself off horses.

Right, I need a sterile bandage
and some clean cloth.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

Hold still.

[ grunting ]

Easy.

All right.
Lift him up.

[ grunts ]

Come on, you goddamn
bloody bastard.

I've never heard a woman
use such language in my life.

Hm, your husband should
tan your hide for ye, woman.

St. Paul says,
"let a woman be silent--"

You can mind your own bloody
business, and so can St. Paul.

And if you move so much
as a single muscle

while I'm tying this bandage,
I will bloody throttle you.

Ah.
Threats, is it?

And after I shared
my drink with ye.

We've 15 miles to go yet.

Five hours at least,
if not seven.

We'll stay long enough
for ye to stem the bleeding

and dress his wound,
no more than that.

He needs rest.

CLAIRE:
Did you hear me?

Randall.

The officer you--
you encountered.

He won't give up so easily.

He commands
the Redcoats hereabouts.

He'll have sent patrols out
in every direction by now.

I canna stay here long.

You know Randall?

Black Jack Randall,
that is?

Aye.

I won't risk you
or anyone else

being taken prisoner
by that man.

If ye canna fix me up
well enough to ride,

you'll be leaving me here
with a loaded pistol,

so I may determine
my own fate.

Might've well
told me you were shot

before you fell
off the horse.

Didn't hurt much at the time.

Does it hurt now?

Aye.

Good.[ chuckles ]

That's about all I can do.
The rest is up to you.

[ grunts ]

JAMIE:
Thank you,Sassenach.

Truly.

All right, well,
on your horse, soldier.

Castle Leoch.

I'd been here with Frank
two days ago.

Or was that in the future?

How could I remember something
that hadn't happened yet?

So far I'd been
assaulted, threatened,

kidnapped,
and nearly raped.

And somehow, I knew that
my journey had only just begun.

[ mysterious ethnic
orchestral music ]

♪

♪