Original subtitles

I once heard of a fish in the Arctic Sea that caught its own reflection in the

ice above.

At first, it intended to perfect itself, ramming its face into the ice.

Then it became jealous of its shimmering scales.

Then it tried to fuck itself.

Then, it died.

Say to everything not to see your fishy self at all.

What?

She's a pig, isn't she?

What do you reckon?

My dear, I never miss a wedding order.

We always appreciate your gimmicks, basket maker.

Such fine works for our home of celebrations.

Now, be sure not to shake the eggs until it's the right time, baby, surely.

Lovely to transact with you, basket maker.

Do stop by my shop one of these days and we can outfit you with some fresh rags.

Tell you, body, one thing, Miss Taylor.

I nearly threw this one back till I remembered that you'd be at market this

month. How are those Blackthorn books performing?

Oh, killer. Best books I've had.

You've got some sort of scheme going with the natural world, have you?

Mother Nature provides, I'm merely pointing it.

And with this today we affix the eternal heave. Together we bid thee,

Samantrothed, not to do the baddest thing, but to do instead that when she

is foolish.

To be good is good.

With this collar, I take thee as mine

due to my bride.

I accept this collar as a symbol of my lifelong duty.

Man and woman become man and his wife.

Friends and neighbours, as we bid the bottle water and my dear sister

blessings over their wedlock, we as well celebrate the contentment and

satisfaction of the great tradition of marriage.

which steadies the foundation and buoys the spirit of our modest community.

Not to mention as to the growth.

May their contract be a beacon for all the young bucks and buckets to set their

marital aspirations upon buckets.

And in that spirit, maidens, come forward.

Whoever you will be the next to wear the matrimonial collar.

Well, that's fine.

No, that's not a good evening, love.

Touch your biggest toe.

Touch your biggest toe. It's off.

Thank you, Doctor's daughter.

I mean, Taylor's wife.

So then, Fisherwoman, you caught yourself a lover yet?

Ha ha ha, of course.

Don't mean no offence, Fisherwoman.

But what fun's a purple egg?

That's quite a surprise.

Love seems more burned than a prize.

Who said anything about love?

The ex-only premonition husband.

Well, at least I spared some.

Dishy maid in the stained face.

Oh, looky.

There's skin under that mug.

I was hoping you'd be half all right.

Yeah, that's right. Fixed face.

That should do. Hey, if you add some of that sweet, smelly water, you might even

smell half all right.

That's just spendy. Forget fragrance.

Men just want somewhere warm and dry to eat and sleep.

You could fix up that old fish hut, wouldn't you?

Sure, a fish hut. There's plenty warm and dry.

Oh, sure.

Thank you all for the wisdom.

Better fuck off before the moon strikes.

Keep it.

It's a funny tradition, isn't it?

The man's ex.

The marriage.

Oh, my little bishop thingy.

I want you to make me a husband.

A husband?

The concept is novel, and yet so manifestly

conspicuous. I'm astonished I have not yet commissioned myself with the task.

Hello.

But a gift in itself is not noble, nor lucrative.

And where has...

Have there ever been a more righteous endeavor than to turn the tables of

fortune for an existence marred by tragedy, orphaned in innocence,

left to fend for herself in a village of blind-eyed grout

mills?

Scurry into your halls, Moles.

Don't let the needs of a child disrupt you.

What I'd hoped, though, had I been one of them.

Perhaps not.

Though, I wasn't built for mothering that lone carrier for a bleeding,

weeping girl. No, my gift is my heart.

My ability to create an elegant person.

In this case, a man.

But how did it be?

The truth to be true, harmony.

His character would be his own to choose, of course.

So am I.

But a simple master basket maker.

Lend me your suit.

I'm getting married in the morning, and I cannot go to church naked.

Yes, um...

This

should cock fit.

Thank you.

I drink in a room.

I'm getting married in the morning and I need to rest.

So,

uh, that's the table.

Um, the stove.

Uh... It's only one bed. I didn't really think that through, but...

I can sleep on the stool.

I've done it before, so it's fine.

Oh yeah.

Approved.

Oh.

The bed is broken.

I heard that he's 10 foot tall, strong as a tree and just as hard. It's against

the gods, isn't it? To marry a tree.

How did it go?

Did he get good off at him?

Does he have other bits to him?

Oh, does he talk?

Is he rude?

Is he kind?

He's a wicker.

Yeah.

our needs and privileges as saints.

Is it true, Miss Fish?

You've found someone to eat your bib and your bath?

You've been having dirty thoughts about me, Butcher?

Whoa-ho-ho!

Yeah! I've got bib and I've got bath!

It's an odd sort of marriage, isn't it?

Not sighted or inverted.

With her working, him not.

So what happens then?

Without you.

I would never have seen the sun on the ocean or the clouds in

the sky.

I'll avoid the fire, of course.

What my timber name?

My witty ox.

My soft-bodied female animal.

Man and his wife.

It's important to manage those.

They're simple creatures, really.

Just make sure they're left alone to do their work and fed and given the

occasional release.

Do those three things and the ship will be your sister.

You can't from this one. She knows all. Nobody shits in this village without her

saying. So how many siblings have you? Well,

my mother died in childbirth. I still have my sister's mother.

My father somehow still remains.

Maybe.

Only doctor in a day's journey.

Unfortunately.

Oh,

look

here. We finally get to meet the...

Rave de terror.

Pardon our tardiness, Butcher. Have you collared your bride already?

Yeah. She's a real kitten, this one.

You should have a good look before I spoil her in a few hours.

Just wishes, Butcher.

Fucking

spectacular.

We wanted to give felicitations.

I'm your resident fisherman and this is my husband.

May your marriage be as bold and affirming as ours.

Thank you again for this suit.

My wife will compensate your husband with interest.

Of course.

I mean, interest won't be necessary.

The fish will run out, it all depends.

Maybe the horn will help me.

What's up? Keep ballin' and checkin' buddies too.

That's me dancing.

This is done, woman.

Stop swaying like a bloody simpleton.

Didn't want to dance with your hammy hips anyway.

Embarrassed, eh?

Oh, we should have wanted to celebrate that over the last time.

Well, the effort ran, wouldn't it? She should now, but there's nothing to it.

If a play is too much and put on the official manifesto, I should ask him to

dance. Well, it's not up to the spectacle.

You wouldn't, would it?

You smashed it?

No.

She's doing it. She's doing it.

You are the reason I live and breathe.

Hmm.

I've got buns in the oven.

What?

The barbell cakes.

The oven's full.

Oh.

What?

I thought you were saying it was with buns.

What?

It sounds like you've got something you want to say about- Well, you'd have to

have fucked me for that to have happened now, wouldn't you have?

Care for cunt?

Fish woman?

Uh, cod, you say?

Are we feeding cod?

Also got bruh.

What British broody dendron you got atop your head?

Is that a special occasion?

I'm just fancying a bit of a garnish.

I thought that matched my frock.

So, where's your board you've got stuck under your booty, fish woman?

Oh, thanks for noticing all my adornments today.

That to bring equilibrium to your gait, then?

Can't get nothing past you, Mrs Baker.

Wait, would Corazban make me that little addition?

Straighten me right out.

You know, that savings baggage one.

Oh, yeah.

Did you see Fisherwoman's cottage's old fancy door?

What? It's a new roof, gardens all tidy.

And do you remember how her door used to be crooked?

Well, that's fixed too.

I'll have to wash it.

Did you finish? Yeah.

Yeah? Yeah.

What's this?

It's a new concept of a cuff I've been musing on for gents. I'm not sure how

well it will be received, but I like it.

Wow, this is a daring hue.

Is it an order from my brothel?

Oh, no, it's the fishwoman's commission.

Would you believe it?

It's what?

It's all your blarney about her dirty clothes must have really got to her.

It's a specimen.

Taylor, I thought, with all your innovative designs,

I thought I could travel to the city some weeks without the children.

See if we can expand the outfit a bit.

You? Three days a journey alone and come back dead on a donkey.

Taylor. No, no. I mean, you'd be killed.

Yes, I understood you mean. It's a woman on a voyage alone. Well, it's not the

city. They're not the markets.

I heard the tailor in Wills Jonesworth is elderly and has no successor.

We do fine in the shop, don't we?

Even got a bottle of an old hack.

Tailor.

I'm not sure that the fisherwoman and her companion are drawing further

attention to themselves than he.

Further is very good for the village, you see.

What vexes my plumb? You often say she needed trappings at work, Kate and

Fishcrats. Why would I care how she looks?

Funny.

Would you like a new dress?

Not much.

I do.

I do feel as though I could put to good use.

It's just that, uh, tutoring is my thing.

You do so well here, strutting about the village.

Your beauty reminds everyone that they ought to do more with their appearances,

and that in turn might lead them to desire a new person to follow.

And then, of course, there's the house and the children and the washing and

the... feeling it's all a harmonious balance and it works

we honestly

meant to believe that you could love such a woman oh is she maybe how could

she love such a man either you know what i mean

Here, the vinegar will stop the mold from rotting.

Have you had that tackle

a long time?

Much of it was my parents.

They took great care of their hooks and...

lures and traps and so on, so they glanced.

Where are they now?

They're not anywhere.

My father died in an accident and then my mother ended her life shortly after

that.

They taught you well.

So take care.

Oh,

and we all owe a deep gratitude for that.

Gratitude. I'm a woman.

All of a sudden, she's complaining that I don't say enough words to her. Words

of gratitude.

Words of passion. Words, words, words.

I'm a man, not a minstrel.

Or as for a flower.

Fuck me, what an eloquent rant.

The missus might find herself satisfied if you could pillow talk as well as you

complain. I shared my pillow with five little heifers.

She wouldn't hear me over the endless melody of toots.

Don't take on charmed mistakes around you, as I did.

Come to think of it, why isn't a little wifey pregnant?

It's been long enough.

Could do with some extra bottle washers. Or one good one.

Hey, fish rustling. You doing any home improvement this week?

Making the rest of us a business?

I'll be fixing the bed this afternoon.

It broke again.

What makes you want to deal with that, anyway?

I mean, the fence, the doors, the roof.

That's the way you're down with the nagging. Is that it?

It makes her happy.

And then I am happy.

And then the bed needs to be fixed.

Why don't you do a bit of roof-mixing yourself, bottle washer?

Don't let your boner knock you off the ladder.

You know, you'd make quite an impression as your fucker.

The wives.

They're all a flutter.

And some bastard like you could have any cunny in the village, wouldn't even have

to throw down a penny.

I bet they'd all spread their laps for you gladly.

Or my wife.

Or my wife would.

Seeing the way she looks at you.

She's gagging for a solid blog.

She's always at me.

Why don't I ever want to stuff her muffin?

It's not like the great seductions come my way either, I tell you.

It's a two-way path, it is.

She can suck my pickle if she wants, get me going. All she does is bloody

complain about how I don't take to her clam anymore. And then the tears start.

What, do you think I'm going to feel lusty towards a crying bird with leaky

nips? She doesn't even let me taste the milk.

You should try. Don't she let you?

I don't drink milk.

You should try.

Just to see.

She wants it. I know she does.

She's still here.

It's for my wife.

It's for my wife!

Easy now.

Perhaps you should take your leave, Mr. Wickham.

I do.

God damn it, I do.

She's the mother of my muppets.

That's my partner in crime.

And her puppies are so soft. They are.

They are so soft.

You love your wife.

Fuck off. Fuck off. Yeah, fuck off.

Fuck off. Fuck off.

It's time to jam, Susan.

Ouch.

Howls of Pickenslow from Blackthorn.

Yeah, jam.

We all love jam. Is that what you've come so close to tell me?

Well, sort of, to see how you are.

To catch up.

It's been a while since you've been married. I see so much has changed.

For the better, of course.

Yeah, well, happy picking.

Speaking of which, how's the marriage?

Pardon my ask?

Do you understand?

I don't know, it's frightening.

Just have a chance.

Wait, just a chat, is it?

Such a funny thing, navigating a new marriage.

Shows your instinct to keep them close to home.

Lots of trouble.

Last night, just one imputation away from calamity.

Things like I have work to do. I can't mind his matters. He has his days, I

have mine, and we have our nights.

So I only need to say that you and I are both... Of course not. We're both

electronic.

So easily drawn in. That's a bit pathetic, really.

Perhaps if he wasn't so... ...present in their field of view... ...life might be

easier. For you.

For you.

Do you remember when you were a girl?

And you and the other youngers used to come and play down by the stream, get in

the way of my rods.

And there was one day, all the other little girls were taunting and teasing

this scrawny little boy, but you graciously invited him to play wedding

and to be your groom.

And you got your sister to be the collar girl.

And you even tried to get me to be the minister. You remember?

I can't remember each of my childhood escapades.

I was a proper bully though, I'm sure.

And after the vows, you told your young husband to drink the river water because

it would make him magically grow up to be a man.

And you'd drink it and you'd become a woman.

But he didn't want to drink it. So he'd be striking you.

I'm forcing many boys to marry me.

He didn't want to drink.

So you held his head down under the stream.

And when it came up all blue in the face, I took him to your doctor, Daddy.

And he was in bed for weeks.

That's where Montana Boy fell in.

He died!

Remember that?

I mean, your daddy's doctrine didn't help, sure, but you've got to think it

might have been all that river water in his lungs what got him in, or at least

set him off in the first place.

Oh, now I remember.

I'm a murderer.

I've kind of forgotten.

But I do appreciate your marriage advice, I do.

You've always been a shining example to us all.

You've become quite bold, haven't you, Vision?

Since the marriage.

Yes, I see a distinct change in you since you've become a wife.

Listen, it seems you have the soundness of mind to hear this, so I'm just going

to come out with it.

I have some troubling revelations.

You've got a story to be written. In fact, yes, I've spoken with some

neighbours, trusted friends.

And we've decided it would be in the front to conceal it from you any longer.

See, what's happened is this.

Your Wicca husband has apparently for some weeks now had engagements with some

of the women in the village.

Engagements and entanglements. Which he's fought them.

More than once.

Women you and I are both familiar with.

I won't name names, but I thought you should know.

My landlord was something and his wheelbarrow flipped on me.

Shall I fetch your father?

No. No.

I've been watching tonight.

With ambition of a stroll to the coast tomorrow, we gather cockles.

Yeah, it would be good to take some cockles to market.

Smoke some cockles?

With fingertips?

See the coast?

That is, if uninvited.

You are.

We could carry twice the load.

The load is always lighter when you are by my side.

Bet you say that to all the girls.

No.

Have you spoken to any of the girls?

Have I spoken to a girl?

Then what?

I've spoken to some girls.

The baker's girls were slapping rocks with rolls of leather in my direction.

They told me the object of the game was to hit me with a rock.

I said that was fine.

Then I moved in such a way as to evade being hit,

which they seemed to find quite funny.

I continued to do it.

Sounds like a good game.

Have you spoken to any of the wives as of late?

I purchased a loaf of sourdough on your behalf.

A pair of trousers on my own.

I fixed a shoe and traded fish for tools.

In each account, I had conversations with the men, and mostly due to

proximity, their wives.

I had a fascinating conversation about the baker's wife.

She makes milk from her breast.

But it's not enough to feed her husband.

And that seems to cause him distress.

He asked if I might fuck her.

Did he fuck?

He may have been reciting a poem.

He also talked of a path going in two directions, which is a fascinating way

to think of a path.

Of course, it is true that on a path, one may walk to and fro, but it hadn't

occurred to me that it may be intrinsic to the path itself, to be both.

I suppose it's the path taker who decides whether they are going away or

going towards.

His garments are washing. They're going to catch mildew overnight, so you might

as well rest. I'll talk to you again in the morning.

I see.

There goes a crown of lamb, soup of goose, wine, and a side of Tartarus.

Join me in the platter.

Lovely.

Father,

the mother washes over in his foot.

Well, it's my birthday.

Don't bleed on my marble, washer.

What have you done to yourself, sir? I was replacing the roof, sir. Roof?

That's what the basket man said.

That's big.

Yeah.

Yeah. Sticking it all over my bath.

Oh, my God!

What inspired you to undertake a hard-handed job in a soft-handed body?

The Fisherwoman's with her husband implied to me that it was a way to...

Fuck, fuck, fuck. A way to... A way to please the wife. You thought you could

get more fucks out of my daughter, didn't you? No.

What the hell, Hound?

Is that my wedding dress?

This gash, I need twice the stitch.

Stop with carrots!

Be gone, daughter!

Be a dolly. Hold him down. Would you pop it?

Needles.

Why didn't I start with this and you started with the other and were me in

the middle?

Okay. Okay.

Thank you

I can drink the milk while I'm expressed.

Whatever it takes. We'll have a big fight.

I'll make you proud.

Oh, there it is. Seems we've done it.

You've gotten quite proficient with the stitch, haven't you, Taylor?

Mine looks all mashed up by comparison.

Oh, fear not, bottle washer.

You'll walk again in a fortnight.

It's a terrible thing.

It's a terrible

thing, sister.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.

Ready, steady and drop.

Your dress is straight-up fetching. Why don't we make you a winning winter

jacket to match now that the weather is stunning?

A jacket? I'll never think.

I am so sorry.

Ideally, lanolin really wicks the water away.

Yes, of course, lanolin really has many benefits for someone such as yourself

who works in rivers.

Let's see what else I can fashion.

I used to be so busy in the evenings, darning and renting

traps. Now with all your help, I've got nothing to do but just enjoy the fire.

It does have a mesmerizing quality to it.

It'd be cozier if you were beside me.

The bed would be cozier if you were beside me.

It's colder there.

Do you not trust me, is it?

A good union is based in trust, isn't that right?

I'm very flamboyant.

I don't want you to sit in the fire, I just want you to sit here and hold me.

Like you held the bottle washers with her.

I've heard things, you know, whispers in the willows.

What have you heard?

The women, they like you, don't they?

I think they are intrigued.

Intrigued?

Intrigued by your cock?

I don't know.

Everyone watching.

The young woman was in distress.

Is that the first time she's been distressed in your company?

Because I've heard there might be a few of the village wives that you might be

helping with their distresses.

Have I done something?

You want me to say it? You want to make me say it to you?

Say what?

You've been fucking them.

I didn't want you anyway.

It was just a prank to get the village bitches off my arse.

To mock their precious traditions. I had no interest in marriage. You were just a

laugh. Nothing more.

You're speaking the past tense.

You know, they might be pretty, but they're...

They're evil, they're devils, all of them.

They have hurt you.

And you don't trust them. I don't trust anyone.

You can trust me.

Said the loving wicker husband to his troubled vigil wife.

I had such a simple love. It was nothing special.

But I knew it.

And you have my heart now.

It's very loving.

What on earth are you doing out here in the cold?

I want you to make me a baby.

Please?

If the money's not enough, I can offer services.

Oh, no, no.

No, I think this will be enough.

No doubt.

And her man-disposition does make me question her ability to care for a

child.

Oh, but who am I to decide who's worthy of a child's love and who's not?

Plenty of wicked crew and mother has raised a good child to become a good

man.

I'm a good man!

Thank you, Mommy. No, thank you, Mommy.

This child may very well be the main deceiver, to give direction to her life,

but not to restore the mentality of the soul, quite like gazing into the

innocent eyes of a neonate.

Or so I'm told.

The coin is fair.

Material.

More than a regular modan's worth.

Into a mother.

And a diamond that I would rather want to learn in a traditional way.

A man's work is greater than a man himself.

It's sacred to him.

Especially this.

I have a clandestine predicament.

Again. I've been sick each morning and I'm far overdue for my strawberry week.

But how?

Last you told me, there was your words. A carnal drama of the day. Well, I mean,

there was.

He knocked over the trist in me for once.

And then one night, he comes home and he played the wicker husband.

He played him. He was claiming to be made of wood.

And then he looked at me right in the eye. You know, as though I was put in

his way.

And, well, the drought became one soon.

Please, don't be prudish. We're all thinking it. Thinking what?

Thinking of him.

His filthy declarations of fondness.

It's not natural. Men are not like that.

She must be Richard. I don't blame her. I can't lie.

What?

Oh, Taylor's wife.

Your face is dripping.

Anyhow, doctor's daughter.

I'd recommend, please.

Shroud everything.

No luck.

Will you sneak me a splash or something from your father's shelves?

Still goes.

Can't shit your way out of this, baker woman. Well, I'm open to suggestions,

aren't I?

Who put the womb in the woman anyway?

It's a shackle. It's a bloody hand grenade.

After what?

Nine, ten births between us. We're blessed to still be alive.

I would like to be quiet.

Of course. With your sister and able to mother. Has she not come out?

Hold up in there all alone. Can't be good for her. Are we? I would

understand, but then my sister's fine.

Oh, Cousin, I mean no offence.

I only point out the irony.

You know, how some covet so desperately while others will smirk.

Cousin, you all right?

Of course.

That is our den in the middle.

I hate spiders.

Yeah, me too.

I'll get you the tincture.

Look if you're alone, nobody is. I'll just stay up for my father.

Sister?

I've run out of the baby.

I can't be sitting in this stink any longer.

Okay, I'm gonna wash you. No, no,

no, no, no.

Did father give this to you?

Did he just hand over the whole bottle?

You won't like it.

The bastard met his father.

I've made a mistake, haven't I? Is he aware?

No, it's not his baby. It's mine.

I bought it fair and square.

Oh, I'm sorry, sister.

I'm sorry. I don't know what to do. I just really wanted it.

Why would you want that?

The love.

What the official woman has is not love.

Marta sister, I want what you have.

I found a wife, but I could still love-

We have visitors.

Don't look like the hero of Salt Carlin.

Pete Niffin, woman.

We have a matter to discuss with your husband.

I am here, Taylor's wife.

What matter?

My sister.

My sister is the matter.

What have you got in your arms here, girl?

Sister is structure from your childhood.

Shove them.

I'd heard the rumours, as I said, but I didn't think my own sister would fall

prey to such an ungodly act.

I'm truly sorry to be the bearer of such confounding news, but it wasn't right to

keep you separate from the incident. Get out.

Now listen, little woman. Is this true?

But all the evidence is before you. Please, leave me.

Taylor's wife.

Speak.

Speak!

I have not loved this woman. Are you lying to me?

Wife, I am not.

Now listen to me, fish woman.

I have a proposition.

This child is an abomination.

And my sister can't be expected to live out her grieving days with this shame.

Get out the boat. You heard my husband. That child is not his. Please, I have a

solution. Leave my home. You claim this child is your own. And you leave with

it.

And when the air is dead, you can gently scrub it with vinegar to stop the mold.

Thank you.

But Jeff, have you seen the fisherwoman this morning?

I haven't seen her for a spell or a lumber dick.

Good riddance! Too embarrassed to show her face.

No wonder.

After all that frowns and about.

Husband runs off with some babby got pregnant.

Is that so?

And how is that babe of yours?

The baby, it broke. It was broken and it died.

If I do dream, Lord, my wealth will wake me.

If I do wake, some planets strike me down.

It's nice to have you back, Pigeon.

What do you mean?

Not having to worry about all that wicker husband nonsense anymore.

It's nice to have things back to normal.

You were right.

There's your woman.

How you doing?

I am not here to claim maternal rights.

Why do you care for the child, the child your own husband?

Basket maker, if you're here to shame me, rest assured I'm doing a fine job on

my own.

Woman, do you think baskets are boom?

Do you honestly believe this child is the consequence of your husband's

betrayal?

It's easier to believe the bad than the good, isn't it?

No, it wasn't really. You made him to be with me, so it was just a pathetic

fantasy.

Pardon me, I did not build you some fuckable furniture.

His life was his own.

despite my attempts to redirect his affections.

Well, if he said he loved you, it's because he did.

Why would he never love me?

I imagine he learned it from you.

Fishwoman, despite your utter senselessness, I fear I play your part

in this calamity.

By good fortune of the moon, your husband is not dead.

He lies withering in a household bench whence he began.

Thank you.

It always troubles me

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

And if you'd have me, I promise to never doubt you, to never covet you,

to never treat you as a possession at all. You are your own and I promise to

love you as love.

It doesn't require a promise.

Fish woman.

There's something I want to say.

I should mention.

I have something to say.

Thank you, neighbors.

Thank you.

Thank you.

I have known you all for some time.

And you know me.

And as you know me, you know I've lived long and traveled far.

I've met all brutes, green bellies, sprax, tramps.

But I've come to find that...

You lot are a crust above the rest.

You've taught me a valuable lesson about the very nature of this middling

existence.

So I thank you, good people, for showing me what's what.

Out of the basket, make up.

I announce my retirement, here and now.

Before I melt down, my knife and bolt can...

I have endeavored to make my master work.

A woman.

A Wicker Woman.

If you want her, all I ask is a gift for my retirement.

Whoever gives me the best gift shall have the Wicker Woman.

I'll be back in a week.

Funny man, isn't he?

What does he think we'd want with a woman made out of wicker?

What's next?

A whole wicker Sunday summer?

Disgusting.

And the only reason would be, well, an extra hand.

An extra hand?

Yeah.

The Wicca husband was very handy, wasn't he?

Yeah. A Wicca woman would work very hard to

meet our needs.

I should just say it would be, you know, helpful for the business.

For the business. For the business.

Yeah.

Mommy, I have a tummy ache. Please, child!

What?

Innkeeper's wife?

Where's your wife?

I don't know. I was just starting to get hungry.

The inn needs bread.

Bakers say they can't make bread. Miller won't sell them any grain.

No grain means no ale next season. How will I feed my children?

Meanwhile, carpenters buy sold chicken.

Got tackled by Smithy. This whole village has become thoroughly full.

Where will it be this? We've got to first find a venue.

Well, I see people traveling far and wide to visit if there was such an

attraction.

Imagine, in the front.

Here you go.

It's a stunning gadget.

It's cocoa base with raspberry preserves and... Honeyed buttercream frosting.

With honeyed buttercream frosting.

I'm delighted to see the baker woman has taken part as well.

No shame in desiring a third.

Oh, thank you, baker.

This is the most exquisite retirement cake I have ever imagined.

Fine. Well, go back.

Oh, how grand.

You've all provided me with such substantial bounty.

It may take me a moment to...

It's more than enough, Captain.

Where did you get that?

Captain.

We don't need the woman.

We already have a woman.

Younger one.

I'm leaving you.

It's done, man.

It's done!

Don't worry, friend.

I'm sure you-

It is the best gift the butcher wins.

You were gifts, not bids, fine drunkard.

Judge me sorry if the distinction wasn't clear.

Well, let's see your pretty face.

Oh, she's a pretty one indeed.

The Wicca husband was made of willow.

But I see now that he was too weak and fragile for the likes of you.

So I made the Wicca woman out of something more... Dirt.

Wherein are you?

A nice, sturdy woman.

What creature are you?

It's a funny thing, Abigail, when you manage.

It's important to take in what your partner has to offer.

I think you'll be pleased by the angling abroad, fisherwoman.

I once met a man who liked to puppet fish with his feet.