All language subtitles for Black.Sails.S02E01.IX

Are you certain this is wise, sir?

Stories I hear about the
raiders in these waters,

their brutality...

Cui bono, Mr. Fogg.

These men profit nothing from blood.

They profit from cargo.

And they profit most
when that cargo is
least costly to win.

Those stories you've heard...

tools of the trade,

self-applied
by the pirates themselves,

intended to separate us
from our cargo

by surrender,
rather than sword.

These are men, Mr. Fogg,

not monsters.

If we behave rationally and civilly,

so will they.

Down to the well,

move!

The ship is yours, sir.

Our manifest.

Everything that would be
of value to you

is accounted for, and its
location in the hold.

Eight barrels, marked "JP,"

forward hold, port side.

- Mr. Neustadt, step to it.
- Pardon me, Captain.

May I ask,

are you one of the pirates that
calls the port of Nassau home?

Three barrels, tea...

I'm a recent arrival to Nassau.

I only ask inasmuch as it's become
something of a fascination of mine.

They say the reality of the place

is far more interesting
than the myth.

The business there is so
efficient, so enlightened,

that all trade is managed
by a teenaged girl.

Tell me, is that true?

What is it?

Ashe.

As in Lord Ashe.

Then let's get on with it.

Everyone up!

Oh, no, please.

Go ahead!

Mercy!
Merc...

I'd like to thank you,

for the orderly
surrender of your ship.

It's truly amazing to me how
many men in your position

lack the sense to do the same.

Ordinarily,

I would return the courtesy,

relieve you of your cargo
and be on my way.

But your ship is about
to yield a prize

of far, far greater value
than our wildest expectation,

a far greater prize

for which I'd rather not
leave witnesses to the taking.

Please, please, sir.
I have a wife and a son.

Hell of a prize, Mr. Meeks.

Hell of a prize.

Captain.

Captain.

Captain,

before we're seen...

Don't call him that.

Well?

Well what?

The crimes you've committed
against your crew are undisputed.

The only reason the sentence
hasn't been carried out

is that I've been delaying the vote

in hopes that you might help me
find a way to get that gold,

or as much of it as possible,

off that beach.

Why would I do that?

Because if you do,

I'll personally guarantee
your sentences are commuted.

You'll guarantee that, will you?

You underestimate
your men yet again.

They will hear reason,

especially when it comes
from a voice they can trust.

The men feel they're entitled
to leave this ordeal

with something to show for...

Fuck those men.

Fuck them for
their short-sightedness.

Fuck them for their ingratitude.

And fuck them for siding
with a cowardly,

snivelling shit of a mutineer.

There are over a hundred
soldiers on that beach,

sworn upon their lives
to protect that gold.

In a matter of hours,

they'll dispatch teams
to search for threats.

In a matter of days,

they'll locate our wreck

and our camp,

and they will kill every
last member of your crew.

And they'll deserve it,

none more so
than you.

Bring them back.

We'll ready the nooses.

Wait.

The Urca's gold is secure.

A full complement of soldiers,

reinforced batteries...
eighteen pounders, all of them...

and men who know how to use 'em.

There's no way...

of approaching that beach
from the land.

Why the fuck are we
listening to him?

Yeah, why?

We should be cutting
your goddamn tongue out

for all the lies
you've told us.

Gentlemen!

No one is angrier about
Mr. Flint's crimes than I.

Which is why you must trust me

when I ask you to hear
what he has to say.

And even if it weren't
for the soldiers,

even if it weren't for the guns,

there's a fucking warship watching
over every inch of the bay...

A fucking warship that has
already killed half your number,

a fucking warship that
would prevent any approach

to that beach,
via the sea.

There's simply no way
of stealing that gold.

But there might be something
else you can steal.

The fucking warship.

What?

Too many soldiers
on the beach, which means...

that the watch on the ship
is spare.

Two men

approach quietly,

evade a handful of sentries,

and eliminate the watch
on the mainmast.

Now at this point,

while the sun is failing,

but before the night watch arrives,

an assault
could be made.

That ship --

is your only means
of escape.

And that ship

is your only means

of taking anything of value

out of this ordeal.

And once it is in your possession...

- Enough of this.
- Once that ship is in your possession...

- Do none of you remember his crimes?
- Mr. De Groot!

Once that ship is in your possession,
you will be invincible!

Now the risk --

falls almost entirely
on the first two men out.

I would volunteer,

in exchange for your pardon.

That leaves one man to go.

One volunteer...

I'll do it.

I'll...

I'll --
I'll go.

Then let's put
Mr. Flint's plan to a vote.

All in favour?

Aye! Aye! Aye!

The ayes have it.

Whoa.

Lord Thomas Hamilton?

Ah.

Are you the liaison
sent by the Admiralty?

I am, my lord.

They say it started with
a man named Henry Avery.

Sailed into the port of Nassau,

bribed the colonial governor
to look past his sins,

encamped his crew upon the beach,

and thus began the pirate issue
on New Providence Island.

Where and when will it all end?

I suppose that's where
you and I come into the story.

As I'm sure you're aware,
my father, the Earl holds great sway

amongst his peers
in Whitehall.

He has asked for the assistance
of Her Majesty's Navy

in pacifying the island

to which he holds title.

He was assured that this
request would be considered

a matter of the
utmost importance.

Undoubtedly, my lord.

Then perhaps you can tell me
why they decided to send you.

Beg pardon, my lord?

A number of your superiors are
former schoolmates of mine.

I canvassed them
about your reputation...

the son of a carpenter,

no record of any formal schooling,
and yet --

more literate than
any three boys I knew at Eton.

You are a rising star

with a bright future
in the Admiralty.

You can understand my concern.

Not really.

Perhaps my lack of
education is showing.

I intend to accomplish
something here, Lieutenant.

I intend to save Nassau

before she's lost forever.

And I cannot do that
with a partner

who might be more concerned
about advancing his career

than he is about
realizing this goal.

You want to save
Nassau, my lord?

Very much so.

Then perhaps my job is to make certain
you know what you're getting into.

You can go in now.

I'll go get us some rum.

Where the fuck were you today?

Here.

You wanted to be a partner to
the consortium, did you not?

You wanted to take Hornigold's
seat at the table?

Then that means you assume
Hornigold's responsibilities,

first among them -- turning up
for the fucking meetings.

Is this really what
you came up here for...

scold me for truancy?

This morning, somebody
killed two watchmen

and stole 500 pounds' worth
of cargo from the warehouse.

Sorry to hear that.

Don't be sorry.
Do your fucking job.

And what job is that exactly?

Hornigold provided security for
the consortium's operations.

And...

you'd like me to fill
that role for you now?

If your friends aren't capable
of protecting themselves,

then I argue they aren't
worth protecting.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

You were the one who decided you
wanted to be a part of this.

To protect the bay.

But to play the role of Constable

for the benefit of Captains
Naft and Lawrence?

Your problem isn't with me.

Your problem...

you need
stronger partners.

I had stronger partners,
you shit.

What are you doing
down there, Eleanor?

Corporate charters?

Mandatory meetings?

The woman who stole ship and crew
out from underneath me

has no appetite
for any of that.

I think that's why you're
so frustrated with me...

because you know all this,
because you know I know this,

and because you know
you are so much more like me

than anyone you've ever met
in your entire life.

Jesus Christ, enough.

Stop telling me
what it is you think I think!

You sound fucking ridiculous.

Do you know what it is I want?

I want to figure out a way of
selling everyone's shit here

for more tomorrow
than I did yesterday.

I want to establish a future here
that isn't measured in months.

And I want you
to show up for a meeting

when you're fucking told.

Can't leave yet.

Watch me.

You haven't asked me
the question yet.

You haven't asked me if
I'm gonna let him in...

Flint.

Am I going to permit him to enter
the bay with his Spanish treasure?

Assuming, that is,
he returns with it at all.

Be very careful, Charles,

because at a certain point,

I will remove you from this place,
no matter what the consequences.

You'd do that?

For him?

How is it you see
such a partner in him
and such a villain in me?

He wants what I want.

Are you quite certain about that?

Let's put it to a test.

Let's say --

I do separate
Flint from his gold

when he returns.

And...

let's say

you and I split it.

What?

Mm,

see?

Not so easy.

Think about it...

I kill Flint,

give you half a fortune,

and then --
no more Naft,

no more Lawrence,
no more compromises.

You could do whatever you like.

We could do whatever we like.

How important is Flint to you now?

Fuck you.

Fuck you, too.

Once the mainmast watch
has been eliminated,

hoist your signal.

If there is no signal
before the reinforcements

for the night's watch
depart the beach,

I'll assume failure,

and begin our escape
down the coast.

What if the signal is in time?

Then we'll launch our assault.

There is something about which
I want to be very clear...

Even in success,

you will be expelled from the crew,

cast out.

Are we understood?

You shit.

Um,

beg pardon?

I needed a fighter,

someone I could count on to
make a difference on that ship.

What the fuck were you doing
volunteering?

I'm sorry, I --
I'm a little confused.

Why wouldn't I volunteer?

If we're to try and...

Hang on.

You're serious
about taking the ship?

What the fuck did you think?

I thought this was how
you intended to escape!

Sure, it would be a few days of
walking or so to St. Augustine,

but at least
we'd have a chance.

You really mean to board that ship.
Jesus Christ.

I'm not doing it.

I don't need to return to Nassau.

I am happy to find some
other place to survive.

St. Augustine is that way.

It's at least a week on foot,

Tequesta tribes in between.

I doubt you'll survive
to see sunrise tomorrow.

How are you even gonna get
out there with one arm?

What is this exercise
intended to prove, Lieutenant?

You want to understand
why piracy flourishes

in the West Indies.

I'm about to show you.

Have you seen one of these before?

I'm afraid I haven't, no.

Who is he?

Davey Someone-or-Other.

High seas piracy, treason,
so on and so forth.

Same as the last,
same as the next.

He's being asked
if he wants to confess,

beg forgiveness in the eyes
of God and Queen Anne.

Suck my cock!

I assume that was a "no."

So this is the lesson...

the pirates of New Providence Island

are incorrigible,

dedicated to mayhem.

To attempt to address this subject
is doomed to defeat from the outset.

It's not him I wanted you to see.

No mercy!

Go all the way to hell!

It's them.

Civilization needs its monsters.

You think Whitehall wants piracy
to flourish in the Bahamas?

No, I don't think they want it,
but I think they're aware

of the cost associated
with trying to fight it.

And I think that
that sound --

travels.

You're an educated man, my lord,

but I think it worth
reminding you:

that in most cases a man trying
to change the world fails

for one simple
and unavoidable reason...

everyone else.

Do as I say when I say,

or I'll kill you myself.

Well, that was easy.

Hurry up!

I will fucking kill you.
Shut up.

For crying out loud!

10 minutes I've been waiting.

A moment's peace, my friend.

Surely you can empathize.

Jack Rackham.

The crew killer.

That's right.

Jesus.

What happened?

Same as yesterday,

though it would appear
things have escalated.

When I came here,
I had nothing

but my name and my wits.

A man in a place like this

surviving on those
two things alone...

he suffers indignities,

slights,

ridicule.

But I overcame it.

I used the wits
to build the name.

I became Quartermaster
to a crew,

that struck fear into the hearts

of many, many men.

Jesus Christ,

what's become of my name?

They pissed on me.

Tell me who did this.

So you can murder them all?

What a wonderful idea.
Why didn't I think of that?

Tell me, though,
how many men do you think

you can safely lure into the
wrecks to their deaths?

Unfortunately, I'm afraid
eight won't cut it,

as I am pariah

to just about
every able-bodied man

on this fucking island!

They pissed on me.

I will send someone
upstairs to tend to him.

He is angry,
but this will pass.

Stay the fuck away from me.

Wait.

You almost got us killed.

Almost.
Almost!

For a fucking bauble.

It's a boatswain's whistle.

Look.

Doesn't it make more sense for us
to prompt the lookout to come down,

than for us to go
up there after him?

You are truly amazing,
you know that?

We're both better off now
than we were two minutes ago,

yet you're angry about it

because
it didn't happen your way.

Might you consider
for a fucking moment

that your distrust of me
is completely unwarranted?

I warned you about Billy.

Was I right?

I found you over Mr. Gates's body,

and did I do anything
but defend you?

When you were sinking
to the bottom of the sea,

who do you imagine it was who
dragged you onto that beach?

Brace yourself,

but I'm the only person within
a hundred miles of here

who doesn't want
to see you dead.

But this is the rate I can
offer you for this material.

If it's unsatisfactory,
feel free to go elsewhere.

This is absurd.

There's absolutely nothing wrong
with the cargo itself.

What's going on here?

Ma'am,

these goods were
presented for consignment,

but your man here refuses
to pay full freight for it,

owing to the condition
of the barrels they're in.

Put up a fight, did they?

Once we were on board,
the crew turned,

gave us no choice.

There was no malice in it.

Mister...

Meeks, ma'am.
Quartermaster
of the Fancy.

Mr. Meeks,

do you have
any idea what happens

when a marginally
reputable cargo ship

enters a civilized port

and attempts to unload
fifty barrels full of cargo
covered in blood?

This material all must be unboxed

and re-boxed into
clean containers

before I can even think
about shipping it out.

Between you and I, which of us
should bear the cost of that?

Whatever happened on that ship,
it was a costly fuck-up.

But it wasn't my fuck-up, and
I'm not about to pay for it.

Ma'am, I must beg your understanding.

My crew is new to this place.

Going forward, we'll certainly
keep this issue in mind.

Mr. Meeks, who is
the Captain of the Fancy?

Ned Low.

Please relay to Captain Low

that it is his responsibility
to manage the taking of prizes

to avoid situations like
this in the future.

If there are any savings in
the repacking of these goods,

I'll be sure to pass them on to you.

- But -- !
- Good afternoon.

Madam Guthrie.

You wished to speak with me?

Sit.

Do you know Captain Hallendale
of the Straight Arrow?

Yes.

Not terribly strong,

or daring,

but knows how to manage a prize,

reliable in that way.

Sorry, what has this
got to do with me?

The Good Fortune
was captured yesterday

but by a different Captain --
who found her first,

beat Hallendale to her,

and then, instead of
managing her surrender,

he put her entire crew
to the sword.

I give Hallendale a lead.

Hallendale spends all his time in here.

And somehow, that lead ends up in
the hands of a fucking maniac.

Madam Guthrie,
isn't it just as possible

this is a rather unfortunate but not
at all implausible coincidence?

I sold it.

To Captain Low.

He paid 90 pieces for it.

- Why would you do...?
- Why wouldn't I?

Valuable information
walks in the door,

I should let it walk out?

Why?

Because it bothers you?

Stay out of my fucking business.

Consider this the only warning
you're ever gonna get.

- You fucking ingrate.
- Now that's not helpful.

You mewed and whimpered
in that fucking tent

till you had me all turned around.

Got me thinking you were some
helpless thing they was beatin' on.

I get you out, and you pull this shit.

Starting shit
without telling us.

Let me explain.

- Don't you fucking talk back to me.
- Alright.

Either she's on her back,
or she's out on the streets.

But if it ain't one of
the two come tomorrow,

I'm gonna deal with it my way.

I will be very honest with you.

I could torture the two of you
to find out who you are,

how many more of you there are,

and what you're hoping
to accomplish here.

I could find it out

and you would both suffer.

But today is your lucky day,

at least for --

one of you.

My commander arrives

to relieve the watch
in less than an hour.

I need this matter
resolved before then.

So neither of you will
be here when he arrives.

One of you will tell me
what I want to know,

receive this gold as reward,

be escorted to the beach
for your escape.

And the other will be quite dead.

My name is John Silver.

His name is James Flint.

We came here to steal the gold
from the treasure galleon,

but he was deposed from his
captaincy by a man named Dufresne,

who is now waiting with the
rest of our crew in longboats.

You'll likely find them behind
the promontory to the south.

I believe there are 32 of them.

You fucking...!

Sorry.

Shoot this one.

He'll get to the pistol.

This one has more scars...
more fights.

You've got a better chance
against this one.

Not if he shoots me first.

Then beat him to it.
Do it, quickly.

So I actually have to fight him?

Well, what the fuck did you
think was gonna happen?!

Do it!

Do it!

Bolt the door.

Table.

So what now?

They'll have to converge
through the door,

roughly a dozen of them,

and three pistols at our disposal.

And then what?

Hold your fire.

Mr. Logan, weigh the anchor!

We must get underway before they
loose those cannons on the beach.

Up the braces!

Up the braces!
Unfold the canvas!

Heave ho!

Come on!

- Return fire!
- Return fire!

Cannons are loaded!

Get us underway!

Get us underway!

Prepare to take fire!

Incoming!

...the fucking island.

...that Guthrie cunt...

Now get the fuck out.

Alright.

Fuck!

You have absolutely
nothing to worry about.

Though I would recommend
avoiding her for a while.

Get the fuck out.

If we are all going to make
something of this place,

perhaps it is in
everyone's best interest

that you and I find a way
past all of this,

past your anger towards me.

I'm not gonna warn you again.

Your anger --
it is understandable.

You killed your own crew
to free me.

You suffered indignity
in my defence.

Perhaps that is enough
to warrant your feelings.

But perhaps there is something
else underlying it,

something hiding in a place
not even you can see.

Perhaps...

We would do well to...

bring it into the light.

What the fuck do you
think you're doing?!

Huh?

Ma'am.

May I buy that for you, miss?

My bar.

Thank you anyway.

I confess,

I knew it was your bar.

Just a gesture for a pretty lady.

You must be new here.

I am, in fact.
How could you tell?

I don't fuck customers.

Everybody here knows it.

Now you do, too.

A sound rule.

Unfortunate for me,
but sound nonetheless.

Still,

it is unthinkable to me

that someone this beautiful is
forced to spend her nights alone.

What's your name?

Ned Low.

You met my Quartermaster
Meeks this morning.

From what I understand,
we were short-changed

a fair amount on a prize haul

owing to the condition
of its containers.

I understand
Mr. Meeks told you

the episode on the Good Fortune
was a case of self-defence.

I apologize for that.

When I heard he told you that,
I knew instantly

that a woman of your stature
would see right through it.

And if you're anything like me,
you simply cannot abide a liar.

So I thought --

if I came here
to tell the truth,

perhaps...

we might reach
a more favourable outcome.

The truth is,

I'm not a particularly
skilled Captain.

Navigation is foreign to me.

I have no gift for politics.
So --

what am I good at?

This is going to sound
absurd, but...

I make the men feel better
about themselves.

See, every man here
has served under a Captain

who uses violence
to achieve an end...

to terrorize,
to advertise.

When the men see that,
they can spot the lie.

They know that that Captain is,
in some part of his soul,

sickened by his own actions.

And the lie infects
everyone who sees it.

But with me,

when the men see me slaughter
the crew of the Good Fortune,

when they see me...

cut out a man's
tongue from his mouth for lying,

when they see me burn a boy alive
in front of his father's eyes,

they know,

they can
see it in my eyes...

there's no lie there.

There's no secret remorse there.

I simply don't have it in me.

At any rate,

I hope that clarifies things

and illustrates why it is only fair

to compensate my men fully
for their latest haul,

as it was an honest haul

taken by an honest Captain.

I intend to be here some time.

It would be a shame to
make enemies of each other

over such
a small amount of money.

Get out of my place.

I say get rid of him.

It's very lucky.

I rather envy you.

I remember what it was like
the first time I met him.

There's a feeling one gets
when in the presence of the...

... truly great men.

It's something quite indescribable.

I imagine you're
having it as we speak.

"Indescribable" is a good word.

You question my husband's motives?

Not on the least, ma'am,

though I may question the
outcome he's likely to achieve.

The game he is entering into

is a brutal and...
unforgiving one.

Piracy?

Politics.

What's your name, Lieutenant?

McGraw...

James McGraw.

Great men aren't made great by
politics, Lieutenant McGraw.

They aren't made great by --
prudence or propriety.

They are, every last one of them,

made great by one thing
and one thing only...

the relentless pursuit
of a better world.

The great men don't
give up that pursuit.

They don't know how.

And that is what makes
them invincible.

17 yea votes against 15 nays.

The crew has commuted your sentences

by the narrowest of margins.

You will both be
transported back to Nassau,

at which point you will be removed
from this ship permanently

and without severance.

There'll be no further
negotiation on the matter.

You were right,

for what it's worth.

Beg pardon?

If your interests and mine
were adverse to each other,

there's a good chance I'd
cross you to save myself.

Then why didn't you?

Because at the moment,

I don't believe our interests
are adverse to each other.

I don't believe you did
any of this for a pardon,

or a passage to Nassau,

or to be able to walk away
from anything.

I think

you intend
to reclaim your captaincy.

I think you intend to take
control of this ship.

And then I think you intend

to return to that beach,
armed to the teeth,

and seize every last
ounce of gold off of it.

And I think you're going
to need my help to do it.

Tell me I'm wrong.