Original subtitles

Ripped By mstoll

I have to look on the bright side, Fraser.

Nothing like being hung to make your tossel

stand up solid as an oak.

Seems it's a little late to be brandishing iron, does it not?

Ah, it takes the edge off of dying,

knowing that when my neck snaps

I'll be discharging my juice like a cannon blast.

I heard tell, all that happens is ye shit yerself.

Well, so much for me trying to cheer up a condemned man.

Ye've got an awful dark view of the world, Fraser.

Lachlan Fife.

When they come to get ye,

I'll wrap my chain around their necks.

Ye grab his musket.

They'll shoot us down like dogs.

Not dogs. Men.

Is it the rope ye're afraid of?

No.

What grieves me is to think my wife will never forgive me

for foolishly getting myself hung.

Aye.

Nothing like a wife to make a man feel disquieted at his own death.

For me, I always knew I was fated to dangle from the end of a rope,

so I made sure to leave none behind to mourn for me.

Truth be told, I'm not looking forward to it much myself.

Taran MacQuarrie.

I'm not gonna let these bastards see it.

- I've got one regret, Fraser. - What would that be, Mr. MacQuarrie?

Well, that I'll be climbing those stairs before you.

Other way around, you could've put in a good word for me with St. Peter.

To think my last view of the world

will be a bunch of ill-faured, pasty-face Englishmen.

My only regret is that I wasted my life as a common thief,

rather than a patriot serving my country fighting against you lot.

To the devil with England and God bless King...

James Fraser.

Stop!

Stop the executions!

I'm on the King's business.

Take that man down and put him in a cell.

Remove the rope!

Escort the prisoner to one of the dungeon cells.

Rory MacNeil.

You must suffer from dodgy eyesight, mate.

That wall is solid stone.

In 20 years, you might get that bolt loose

except you ain't got 20 years.

Compliments of Captain Jonathan Randall, Esquire.

Must be good to have a friend of means.

If you're smart, you'll eat a hearty meal, have a wash

and your luck can change at any minute, boyo.

Fraser, James.

And you say you know the prisoner?

Yes, that's right.

- Close relation? - Not particularly.

A family connection.

- I hardly know the man, really. - I should think not.

An Englishwoman of fine breeding and a common Scottish criminal.

Ah.

Here we are.

It appears he's been granted a temporary stay of execution.

At least for a little while. Stroke of luck, I suppose.

When was the last time

you were in contact with this individual?

Many years.

Old as the connection may be,

I felt it a kind gesture to come visit.

My Christian duty. I'm sure you can understand.

I could tell you're a Christian woman the moment you entered.

May I see him, Sir Fletcher?

I should like nothing better than to help you, Mrs. Beauchamp.

Unfortunately, I cannot allow it.

If something were to happen, I would never forgive myself.

I understand your position, Sir Fletcher. I do.

But this man comes from good people.

How sad that a young man in this situation

would be estranged from his family.

If he wished to write a letter to them of reconciliation,

I would be pleased to deliver it to his mother.

You are thoughtfulness itself, my dear.

One moment, madam.

I don't believe a letter

directly from the convict would be appropriate.

However, this may give the family solace.

The prisoner's personal effects.

Customarily, we send them on to whomever the prisoner designates

as next of kin after execution.

Perhaps, you could take it to them.

I'd be happy to.

Well, then, I believe the Lord

will smile upon you for this good deed.

Up you get, lass. Up you get.

Ooh...

Bastard! Bastard!

Five in a row?

- Come on. It's me now. - You rigging this? Put your money in.

Aye, you've got the luck of the devil, you bastard!

I've a few coins left.

Would you listen to those two donkeys?

Jamie's facing a neck stretching

and all they care about is rolling double sixes.

I didn't realize Jamie's fate meant so little to them.

Don't despair, mistress.

The boys here prised you out of Fort William right under

Black Jack Randall's very nose.

- And that was no easy task. - Easier than this.

A fort's only there to keep people out.

- A prison's there to keep people in. - And what of it?

I was only stating a fact, mistress.

Cheers!

The next round is on the two of you.

And the one after that.

Think again. We're skint.

You seem awfully cheery about it.

Well, it's who we lost to that has us grinning.

They need to know.

By all means, tell them.

What, me?

No, I think it should be you. You lost more.

Aye, but you...

Aye, but you kept ordering more ale.

Kept their throats well lubricated, you did.

Sober up and speak yer piece.

Oh, ho.

While you three were sitting here looking glum,

we were losing our coin to two...

Not one, but two

Wentworth jailers.

Those men work at the prison?

- What did you learn? Anything useful? - Aye, I believe so.

- The warden... What's his name? - Sir Fletcher.

- The very man. - Aye.

He insists on having his evening meal in private.

After which, he reads his Bible.

Every day, 25 minutes of quiet reflection.

Introspection.

- Self-examination. - And?

Dinna be glaikit.

The man's away from his office for a full hour.

Go on.

Isn't that enough? Hmm?

Yes.

I believe it is.

"Who so pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil

"is right-wise King born of all Britain."

I wondered when ye'd show yerself.

Expected ye to come alone.

Marley?

Not much in the way of intellect

but impressively brutal when given the opportunity.

I apologize for the prison commissary,

but I see you managed well enough.

Good for you.

So,

you couldn't keep out of prison long enough

to hear if your pardon had been granted or not.

Your petition of complaint against me?

Surely, you haven't forgotten.

You recognize this?

Of course, you do.

I'm afraid that the Duke of Sandringham likes to talk.

Especially when he drinks.

Certain mutual acquaintances passed his words along to me and...

Well, we spoke.

It certainly is a most extraordinary document.

Er...

Well, a complete blackening of my character.

If presented to the Court of Sessions,

I would wager that they would find in your favor, and, well...

I'd hate to think what would happen to me.

Might be me up on that gibbet instead of you.

Here to see Sir Fletcher. He's expecting us.

Right this way, ma'am.

Sir Fletcher didn't mention naught to me about having you back here,

nor about any letter to pass along.

Are you implying that Sir Fletcher lied to me

about Mr. Fraser being allowed to write a letter to his family?

Didn't say anything about lying.

Then perhaps, you should ask him yourself.

Sir Fletcher is indisposed at present.

Must I remind ye, ye're speaking to a lady?

Begging your pardon, Madam.

It's not often quality

such as yourself visits this muck heap.

Until Sir Fletcher returns, you can wait here,

but don't go wandering.

Ain't a safe place for the fairer sex.

Your concern for my welfare is duly noted.

Perhaps you would like to wait with me?

I suspect you've been on your feet for most of your shift.

Would you like to take a seat?

Are you trying to get me discharged?

I've got my duties to perform.

Of course. My apologies.

Be at ease.

I promise I shan't leave this room.

And besides, I have my manservant here to protect me,

should I be in need of such.

And who's gonna protect him?

You're a bold lass, asking him to stay.

I was afraid if I didn't,

he might have come up with it himself.

We have to find keys and a map to this godforsaken place.

May I call you Jamie?

I care not.

But if ye're expecting me to beg for my life,

you'll be sorely disappointed.

No, that would be a waste of both our time.

I am unable to save you now, even if I wished to.

Our time together here is but a momentary reprieve.

Well, dinna bother.

I prefer the noose to yer company.

Is that true? Why?

Do I make you uncomfortable?

Do I haunt your dreams since Fort William?

When you awaken in the middle of the night,

shaken and sweating,

is it my face you see looming in the darkness?

Tell me.

When you lie upon your wife

and her hands trace the scars on your back,

do you ever think of me

and soften?

What is it you want from me, Randall?

I want you to admit the truth to yourself.

- And what would that be? - That you escaped Fort William

but you did not escape me.

Surrender this pride that you hide behind

and admit that even now, you're terrified.

Admit it.

Admit that one simple thing and I will give you something in return.

A final gift.

A gift?

The noose

is such an ignoble ending.

Give me what I ask

and I will give you the death that you deserve.

Clean, honorable

and of your own choosing.

You could have a Roman death.

You could fall on your sword like Brutus.

Or maybe a Greek demise. Socrates took hemlock.

No.

Perhaps you do not want to see my face at the end.

I understand.

I can simply slit your throat from behind.

It's messy, but...

The choice is yours.

How will I ever choose?

But choose you must.

First, you must give me your surrender.

Make no mistake.

I will have your surrender before you leave this world.

Claire, we've looked all over. There's no map.

Well, what good are keys

if we don't know where he's being held?

Lass, we don't have the time.

I just need a few more minutes!

Thought I'd check in on you, Mrs. Beauchamp,

make sure you're...

Tie him up and hide him somewhere.

With a bit of luck, I'll be able to find Jamie

- before the alarm is sounded. - Wait for me. I'll come with you.

No.

If I get caught, I can say that

you quarreled with the jailor and I fled for help.

Well, what will I tell them at the gate?

Tell them that I sent you out to get a gift for Sir Fletcher.

Remember, you work for an Englishwoman of noble birth.

And you remember, ye've got less than an hour before Sir Fletcher returns.

Meet me in the woods behind the prison.

We'll be waiting for you.

Good luck to you, too, lass.

But if you two can't give it a rest...

- Not likely, boyo. - As you were.

- Jamie? - Who's there?

Are you there?

I'll be yer Jamie, lass, come and get me.

Let us out, lass.

Wait, come back.

Jamie?

Jamie!

Does anyone know where I would find Jamie Fraser?

Not in here. Try down below.

That's where they keep those of us that hanging's too good for.

Thank you.

All right.

I won't surrender.

To you

or any man.

I have to admit,

there is a part of me that would be crestfallen if you did.

You know that every man can be broken.

It's truly nothing to be ashamed of.

Will you show me your back?

If it'll stop yer talking.

Hmm.

May I?

You're the broken one.

Ye're the one that sees my face every night.

Idiot. You could have killed him.

Get him up.

Do it, dog! Get him up.

I truly hoped to spare you the noose.

Hold his wrist. Hold his wrist.

I would lay it flat if I were you.

Why do you force me to treat you in such an abominable way?

Why do you choose to spend the few hours left to you

as a miserable cripple?

Why do you force me to hurt you?

Hmm?

You're better than this.

Wake up. Look at me.

Look at me.

There.

There you are.

Mmm-hmm.

Yes...

Yes, yes!

Hey, shh, hey.

There you are. Yes.

Can you feel that?

No. I'll kill you.

Can you feel that? Shh, shh, shh, shh.

It's all right.

I could take you right now.

No.

I will not give in to coarse passion.

If you'd only stop resisting me

I could make this so much easier for you.

I'm here to help you. Don't fight me.

Jamie? Jamie.

Claire, how did you...

You must leave.

- Randall will be coming back soon. - Randall is here?

My God. What has he done to you?

Do not fash, Sassenach.

But you must leave.

No. Not without you.

Talk to me, Jamie.

Wake up.

Jamie? You must stay awake.

We're going to walk out of here together.

Stay with me.

You truly have a gift

for showing up at the most unexpected times.

You beast.

You can do better than that.

You fucking sadistic piece of shit.

I should have slit your throat

when you were laying unconscious at Fort William.

Yes.

I'm afraid you will come to regret that small act of humanity.

You're no coward.

I will grant you that.

You're a fit match for your husband

and I cannot give you a better compliment than that.

The sweat of exertion.

Bravo.

This way. This door's open.

How dare you interrupt me

while I'm conducting an interrogation?

Begging your pardon, Captain,

but we have reason to believe that earlier today

that woman there was involved in an escape attempt.

Well, now you found her. Congratulations.

But since that is the prisoner she had hoped to free,

you can see the... The search can now be called off.

Please, you must take me to Sir Fletcher.

He needs to be made aware of what's going on in here.

Please.

Will the Captain allow us to take the woman into custody?

No. No, he will not.

This woman is involved in a rebel plot against His Majesty.

- God save the King. - God save the King.

You tell you commander I have the situation well in hand.

Yes, sir.

Now get out.

Hmm.

Search her for weapons.

Me, myself, I'm not in the mood for cunt today.

But I imagine Marley here would like to entertain you,

privately, in his quarters.

You wouldn't prefer to watch?

I may have what are called unnatural tastes

but I do have some aesthetic principles.

Hmm.

You are a very lovely woman,

shrewish tongue notwithstanding.

Do I want to see you with Marley?

No.

I don't think I do want to watch that.

Right, wake up. Your presence is required.

Good Christ.

Are you watching?

Stop!

Make me a better offer.

Have me.

Let her go in safety and you can have me.

I won't struggle. You can do what you wish.

Jamie, no.

You have my word.

So, it becomes a matter of trust.

Your word for mine.

Aye.

Will you allow me a brief test of your sincerity?

Your hand. Lay it upon the table.

No, the ruined one.

- No! Don't do it! - Silence her, or I will.

Claire, please.

- No, no! - Claire, no. No.

Shh.

I haven't even begun.

Shh.

Now kiss me.

Take her away.

We will remember this moment for the rest of our lives.

Take her away.

No.

No, no!

No, let me say goodbye!

I can't leave you.

Yes, you will. Do as I say.

I love you, mo nighean donn.

I shall return shortly.

Walk.

I recently heard an extraordinary rumor about you.

There was a trial held at Cranesmuir.

You were accused of being a witch.

Yes.

Witch I am.

And I curse you.

I curse you with knowledge, Jack Randall.

I give you the hour

of your death.

Jonathan Wolverton Randall.

Born September 3rd, 1705.

Dies...

She's away safe?

Yes. You have my word.

It's a masterpiece.

How does it feel to be alive,

yet wear so much dead flesh?

Shall we begin?

Murtagh!

Willie!

Murtagh!

Anybody?

You shut your gab, woman.

Ye want to bring the Redcoats down on us?

We have to go back for him.

Pitch dark and those idlers still haven't returned.

Claire Fraser, this is Sir Marcus MacRannoch,

a loyal friend to our clan.

This is his home we're sheltering in.

Thank you.

We could use a loyal friend right now.

Tell me, how many men can you muster?

To rescue yer husband from Wentworth Prison?

Tonight, if possible.

Or tomorrow morning at the very latest.

None.

For it means risking the Redcoats coming around afterwards

and leveling Eldridge House to the ground.

No lass, I'm sorry.

Temporary shelter I can offer ye,

but I'll not put my family or myself in jeopardy.

I can pay you.

I wouldn't ask your men to risk their lives for nothing.

A half dozen or so would give us a fighting chance.

A dozen would give us an even better chance.

Where did you get these, woman?

Fraser, you say your name was?

That's right.

My husband gave them to me on our wedding night.

They're yours, if you'll help us.

Did he indeed?

Ellen's son?

Your husband is Ellen MacKenzie's son?

Aye, and ye'd ken it if you saw him. He's the spit of her.

I gave these to Ellen MacKenzie as a wedding gift.

I've thought of them so often around her bonnie neck.

I wonder if she ever thought of me while wearing them.

So, they're yours now.

You wear them in good health.

I'd stand a better chance of doing that

if you'd help me get my husband back.

Ah, I see.

But what I cannot see is how it can be done.

I have a wife and three bairns asleep upstairs.

I must look to their protection. Aye.

I would do a bit for Ellen's lad.

But it's a bit much you ask.

Well, that just leaves the five of us.

It'll have to do.

I know how to get us inside.

I left the door open at the rear of the prison.

An open door is nay a plan, lass.

Anyone?

It gives me no pleasure to say such...

Absalom! Man!

I sent you out at daybreak to bring in 40 head of cattle!

What have you been up to all that time?

Searching! All bloody day!

Well, ye sure as shite didn't go thirsty.

How many did you bring in?

- Nineteen. - Nineteen?

Nineteen out of 40?

What are ye, blind, man? Is yer nose not working?

Nineteen cattle.

That's no small number.

And what the hell is so funny about 21 missing cattle?

I know how we can save young Jamie.

Ripped By mstoll