All language subtitles for Outlander - 2x06 - Best Laid Schemes....HDTV.BATV.en

Previously...

What if I were to tell you

we were about to come into possession

of �10,000 from Comte St. Germain?

He wishes to buy a large shipment

of Portuguese Madeira?

We make it appear as though smallpox

is present in St. Germain's crew.

Convince everyone the shipment's tainted

and have it destroyed.

When Monsieur Forez serves

as His Majesty's royal executioner.

It's a peculiar calling.

Follow me.
The king is not enamored

of the mystical art.

We must be wary not to invoke his ire.

Jack Randall is alive.
What just happened?

I challenged him to a
duel and he accepted.

You can't kill Randall.

It would be as if you're
killing Frank, too.

Now you have your choice.
Him or me.

One year. After that, I swear,

I will help you bleed him myself.

A year. Not one day more.

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Randall's been
released from the Bastille.

I'll meet with his
second this afternoon,

set the terms for the duel.

Two days from now at dawn. Hmm?

Dinna fash, lad.

Magnus assures me that the...

the woods west of the city are safe.

Gens d'armes dinna patrol there.

Lad?

Aye.

You need to concentrate.

I'll fetch the broadswords.

We'll meet in the courtyard,

hone your skills.

I can't.

Well, before supper then.

Rather not wait till tomorrow.

Ye need to work that bad hand.

I'm not dueling with Randall.

I've already sent word,

withdrawing the challenge.

What?

Why?

Why?

Well, uh, it's ower-complicated.

I ken I'm a simple man,

but strive for an explanation.

I canna, Murtagh.

Ye canna?

Yer mind changes like a woman in flux.

Trust I've a sound reason.

- Good morning, master Murtagh.
- Says you.

Milady has instructed that
you have a proper meal

to start your day.

Where is Milady this morning?

She has gone to L'H�pital.

- Of course she has.
- Pardon?

Nothing.

Merci, Magnus.

Madame Fraser,

I wonder if you would be so kind

as to help me prepare
this man for burial?

Certainly.

You're going somewhere?

I've been summoned by His Majesty

to perform my usual duties.

Ah, your usual duties.

What crime is this man
being executed for?

It is said to be several persons.

Practitioners of the dark arts.

And all those who associate with them.

When is this to happen?

Once they are gathered, I suppose.

I thought perhaps they should be hanged.

But the king's pleasure

is to have them drawn and quartered,

so I must be at the ready, hmm?

Pleasure is not the word
that comes to mind.

Make no mistake, Madame Fraser,

to choke a man to death
at the end of a rope,

anyone can do this.

But to properly execute the sentence

of drawing and quartering,

that requires great skill indeed.

I imagine so.

First,

the man or woman...

must be hanged,

but with judgment, so that
the neck is not broken.

As death approaches, you
must reach inside the cavity

and grasp the heart, hmm.

The main difficulty lies in severing

the large vessels above quickly,

so that the organ may be pulled forth

while still beating, hmm.

Hm.

You wish to please the crowd, hmm.

As for the rest, ah,

mere butchery.

Once life is extinct,

there is no further need for skill.

No, I suppose not.

I have made you pale

with this tedious conversation.

Perhaps our friend Master Raymond

would be better company.

Au revoir, Madame Fraser.

Can you spare, Madame?

You need to leave the city at once.

The king is on a crusade to root out

practitioners of the
black arts from Paris.

Yes, yes.
This has happened before.

It is of no concern.

King Louis'
great-grandfather, Louis XIV,

did much the same decades ago.

Plucking heretics from the city

as one might remove
weeds from the garden.

'Twas a veiled manifestation

of his piousness.

Soon afterwards they were all freed,

a mere renunciation of Satan as penance.

I fear this time is different.

I think the king is out for actual blood

rather than Hail Marys.

Monsieur Forez confided to me

that he's preparing for
multiple executions.

You're in danger, Master Raymond.

Well...

if it is as you say,

you shouldn't have come here.

You've put yourself at grave risk.

But, um,

I'm touched by your
concern for my welfare.

This is what friends do for one another.

Merci, amie,

I will heed your warning
and flee the city at once.

Don't worry, no matter how
often one removes weeds,

they have a habit of reappearing.

We will meet again, Madonna...

in this life or another.

I certainly hope so.

Please, be careful.

Mm, how did you know that's
exactly what I needed right now?

Hmm.

I remember how much Jenny said it helped

when she was with child.

I've been thinking that...

remember you said I owed you a life,

because you saved mine?

Well, I've saved yours as
well, at least as often.

Seems to me we're even.

"Even"?

Aye.

I dinna give you Randall's
life in payment of a debt.

I owe Frank nothin'.

You had a free choice between
us and you chose me.

The fact you did shouldna entitle him

to any particular consideration.

But Frank's innocent in all of this.

What Randall did to me
was worse than death.

What lies between him and
me can only be settled

when one of us is dead.

So why did you promise me
that you'd let Randall live?

Because of Charles Stuart.

The prince is a canny, slippery man.

Yet there's a light in his
eye that can fool good men

to believe he's God's chosen one,

destined to make the dream

of a Stuart restoration reality.

We have thwarted him all we can, Claire.

We may find ourselves
staring into the abyss

awaiting us at the
bottom of Culloden Moor.

So if anything should happen to me...

Don't talk like that.

I want there to be a place for you.

Someone to care for you.

For our bairn.

I want it to be a man that loves you.

So...

Now it's my turn to ask
you for a promise.

Promise me that

if the time should come,

you will go back through the stones.

Back to Frank.

I promise.

Why are we trying to fake smallpox?

'Cause the financiers are waiting to see

if the prince's wine
venture is successful.

If it works, they'll be lining up

to lend money to the Jacobite cause.

But if we can get the
harbor master at Le Havre

to destroy St. Germain's
warehouse and inventory,

like he did with the Patagonia...

Charles will lose his
wine and the investment.

And he'll go running back to Rome

with his tail between his legs.

Or...

we could slit the Italian fop's
throat and be done with it.

Killing Charles Stuart will
only make him a martyr

throughout Scotland.

Essence of rosemary.

Bitter cascara.

Mash of nettles.

If you must.

Stop fooling around. Pay attention.

- I am.
- Bu... but you're not.

But...

I don't feel anything.

You will in a minute.

Rose madder.

With luck, the combination will cause

severe stomach pains and vomiting.

You're in for a pleasant evening.

Do you think you can get St.
Germain's men to drink it?

Aye.

I will break the corks
off a few bottles.

Canna sell damaged product.

St. Germain's men will
no let it go to waste.

Trust me.

Well, once his men
drink the spiked wine,

they should flush with fever.

The nettle juice on their
skin will cause blistering,

and the rose madder should
produce blood in the urine.

All telltale symptoms.

Et voil�,

I give you smallpox.

Masquerades and games.

What's next?

A rousing game of charades?

Yes. Oh, you know, the
ladies at Maison Elise's,

they play charades without any
clothes on for the clients.

Quiet, laddie.

But I was quiet.

Get.

Mm.

Murtagh's angry.

Do not blame him.

We need to tell him.

I was just thinking
that exact same thing.

Aye.

Everything.

Everything.

Oh.

If you believe...

yer wife to be a...

a witch...

Then who am I to contradict ye?

Mm. Mm.

But you shoulda trusted
me with that knowledge

from the beginning.

Be careful.

- I will.
- You always say that.

Mean it this time.

Moi?

Yes, you.

Oui, Milady.

I will watch over Milord as well.

You're in good hands.

- See you in a few days.
- Mm.

You lived through these years, then?

Yes.

This is the year I was born.

And this is the year I became a nurse.

Healer.

During a world war.

Ye ken what happens to the Jacobites.

Yes.

I know when The Rising begins.

Then ye know how it ends, too.

And it doesn't end well.

No.

Unless we stop it from
happening all together.

But ye ken all the dates.

When things will happen.

When people will die.

I don't know about you...

or Jamie...

about any of us.

Even knowing what Jamie says ye do...

I wouldn't want to bear that burden.

Now, place these bottles

where the men are sure to find them.

Brush this on the
insides of their coats.

Careful not to get it on your hands.

Well...

success?

I dinna linger to find out.

We'll ken soon enough, though.

It must work.

Charles can't get his
hands on that money.

Mm.

Dinna fash, mo nighean donn,

if anyone can deliver
pestilence and disease...

It's us.

Come here.

Mm.

James.

Your Royal Highness.

Finally you're here.

I have been anxiously waiting.

Well, I-I came as soon as
I received your message.

As I said, I came straightaway.

How may I be of service?

There has been a
catastrophe in Le Havre.

At the comte's warehouse.

A mysterious illness, which
no one has been able

to diagnose as yet.

This illness, is it contagious?

One should not openly speculate

as to the contagion of this malady.

How about the harbor master,
has he been paid off?

Is that not how you normally
handle these things?

This is why I sent for you, James.

We require you to transport
the wine at once.

Hmm.

Well, this endeavor could jeopardize

my, uh, cousin Jared's business.

James knows this is no
time for negotiation.

James, you know this is not
merely for financial gain.

Mark me.

The profits from this endeavor

will be the seed to expel
the Hanoverian usurpers

to my father's throne.

This is to regain your soil

and to restore your blessed king.

Of course, Your Royal Highness.

I've yet to secure buyers,

but I'll leave for Le Havre

and arrange transfer to my
warehouse straightaway.

You are a loyal and true patriot, James.

Godspeed.

The road to Le Havre is a lonely one.

Your conversation will provide
a pleasant diversion.

- These hinder my movements.
- Ye'll get used to it.

I don't want to get used to it.

Playing the jessie's bad enough.

Doin' it in this outfit is unbearable.

We'll make a proper French
courtier out of you yet.

- Indeed.
- Another bleat like that

and I'll see to the
other side of yer jaw.

Perhaps we can think of an alternative?

Do you even trust these
men that you've found?

Money'll buy anything if
ye ken where to look.

Fine, but do these highwaymen

even have the proper
attire to look the part?

Let's just say it'll be a risky affair

for a nobleman strolling along
the Rue Saint-Honor� tonight.

We don't have time for
an alternative, Claire.

And what if you get caught?

Have either of you thought
of that contingency?

Aye.

Don't get caught.

This whole thing's dangerous.

'Tis.

Every now and then it is okay
for you to lie to me, you know?

Just to put my mind at ease.

I'll remember that next time.

I don't feel good about this.

This feels...

Needlessly risky,

like we haven't thought
it through enough.

What about St. Germain?

We do have a plan for him.

I have thought it through,
and it'll serve, Sassenach.

But I am not the one ye
should be concerned about.

I'm simply a merchant
transporting his goods.

And if you feel obliged,

say your prayers for
Murtagh Fitzgibbons.

He'll be the one in the line of fire.

If I do happen to get caught,

would you be so kind as to kill me?

I refuse to be hanged in this rig out.

Then let me get you undressed,

right away.

I'm sorry about earlier.

It's just...

bad things tend to
happen when we're apart.

We find a way back to each other, no?

- Hm.
- Hm.

Was that...

Did he?

Yes, she did.

She's been doing it a lot more recently.

Can he hear me?

A daughter.

Wee un...

It's your father.

Cannae wait to meet ye.

Can we?

With the bairn?

It's fine.

You won't hurt us.

Hup, hup. All right.

Doesn't it distress any of you?

How this city treats its
poor and underprivileged?

I mean, surely you must see the
staggering numbers of them

as you travel through the city.

Just yesterday, I-I saw
a woman and her child

dead in the middle of the road.

It was absolutely horrible.

Surely we must do something
to change the situation.

Madame Fraser...

The gen d'armes should remove them

to the less desirable parts of the city.

Is it time?

No, it's not the baby.

It's just that...

Sorry, Louise.

Forgive me.

Claire, you must sit. Come rest.

Mother, yes, I will.

I just have to attend
to a few more patients.

If you do not want to
become one yourself,

you'll do as I say.

Lie down.

You are bleeding, my dear.

It is nothing to be concerned with.

As you know, it is common to
leak a bit at this stage.

Votre petit is taking a
new position, I suspect.

The hour is late.

You will stay here tonight.

- No, I can't.
- That was not a suggestion.

Then I should send
word home with Fergus.

My husband will worry.

I will see to that.

Sleep. Now.

I will be "persona non grata"
with the bankers of Paris.

An outcast at worst.

Surely there will always be those

that honor the Stuart name.

The French honor money only.

'Tis the most common road
taken from Le Havre to Paris.

Aye.

False accusations can lead
to dire consequences,

Monsieur St. Germain.

Comte, by your own account,

Lord Broch Tuarach saved you
from injury or even death.

Why should he risk himself?

This discord,

it will not recover my wine.

Our king and God have been let down.

All the sacrifices I made
these last months in France,

lowering myself to a commoner,

begging for money,

have amounted to naught.

So where will the House of Stuart stand

if our cause fails?

I will be forced to return home to Rome,

where even the pope's goodwill
for my father begins to run dry.

Or worse...

Mark me, I will take my own life

if I am forced to live
in God-forsaken Poland.

Hmm.

Good morning, Milord.

Where's Milady?

Staying the night at the hospital.

No, no, no, no, no, no.
The hour was late,

so the Mother thought it
best if Milady remains,

so not to travel the streets at night.

I allowed it.

Well, I was wise to leave
my wife in your charge.

You hungry?

Always.

Go on.

Ah.

When will Murtagh be home?

Mm. Aye, he's gone to
Portugal to sell the wine.

Could be a month or two
before he returns.

I will miss his happy face.

It's best he's not seen here for a time.

Milady says, "out of sight,
out of mind."

Never heard her say that.

Says it to me every day.

Pardon, Milord.

I don't mean to interrupt your meal.

It's fine.

Prince Charles has got himself
into some trouble at the salon.

Seems he's run up a substantial
debt and refuses to pay.

Madame Elise has threatened
to call for the gens d'armes

unless restitution is made i...
immediately.

No peace for the wicked.

Merci.

Shall I go as proxy, Milord?

So you... you can finish
your meal and rest?

No. Best go myself.

We don't want the gens
d'armes making inquiries

into our business affairs...

today, of all days.

Then I shall come with you.

To guard your right.

I'll be honored.

- Monsieur.
- Monsieur.

- Good afternoon, Magnus.
- Milady.

Milady, forgive me.

I did not know you had arrived home.

That's all right.

Do you wish a bath?

Perhaps something to eat?

Where is Milord?

Suzette...

My husband's brace is there.

He's obviously back from Le Havre.

Where is he?

Milord has gone to the
Bois de Boulogne.

Now why would he go to the woods?

Milord was called to Maison Elise.

Prince Charles needed his help.

Soon after he arrived,

Milord got into a fight
with an English officer.

What English officer?

What was his name?

Suzette?

I wasn't there, Milady.

Marie told me at the market earlier.

She overheard this master
telling his wife everything...

Just, Goddamnit, tell me what happened.

The English soldier came
hurtling out of a doorway,

smashing into the walls.

Then Milord appeared looking
like the vengeance of God.

It is just as Marie conveyed it.

He must.

You promised.

Milady, are you unwell?

Milady?

Mm.

Magnus, the carriage.

I'm going to the Bois de Boulogne.

Milord wouldn't want you to.

Milady, you cannot go by yourself.

Then come along, but I am going now.

God damn you.

You promised me.

You promised me.

This way, Milady.

Quickly. Quickly.

I came through the
fading light to find this,

to stop them.

Having found them,
I could not intervene

for fear of causing
fatal interruption.

Milady?

All I could do is wait,

to see which of my men would die,

Jamie or Frank.

Aah!

How did she forgive you?

Huh?

Ja...

Milady...

Aah!

Jamie!

Claire?

Milady? Milady?

Claire!

Claire!

I have to get you home, Milady.

- Claire!
- L'H�pital, Mother Hildegarde.

Claire!

Jamie.

Jamie.

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