All language subtitles for Bleak.House.S01E14.720p.BluRay.x264-SiNNERS

Non! Laissez-moi! Cochon!

Constable, can't you hold this woman still?

You stupid man, why do you do this?
Why should you think I killed that man?

Just calm yourself a bit, miss, and I'll tell you.

You see, I never thought George
had the murdering look about him.

But I always thought you had.
And then there was the murder weapon.

- Anything to say about that?
- Non.

No? Because after we'd had our little chat,

the very next day you took a trip to the country,
and dropped a pistol into a pond.

And my man, who'd been following you
since the night before, got very wet fishing it out.

So there we are, miss.
All over bar the springing of the trap.

- You! I wish I could send you straight to hell.
- I'm sure you do, my dear.

Unpleasant, distasteful,
coarse fellow.

What is it, my dear?

Hmm?

Don't much care for that fellow Bucket.

Questioning you as if...well,
as if you were a common criminal.

- I suppose he has his work to do.
- Well, I don't care for the way he goes about it.

Making free with one's house.

Making a show of everything, like a conjurer
at a music hall. I don't care for the man.

Well, it's over now. No harm done.

You take it very well, my dear.

What was it that you were going to see
Tulkinghorn about that night?

Do you know, I cannot remember.

I suppose it must have seemed important
at the time.

But I really cannot recall it now.

Poor Tulkinghorn. What an end.

To be shot through the heart
by a domestic servant.

Doesn't bear thinking about.

There we are, George, me old friend.
A free man, I said. And free you are.

And here's your friends to greet you.

Oh, George! George!

- Hello, Mother. Steady on.
- Hi, guvnor.

Well, I'm a free man, for what good it will do me.

Not a penny to me name,
and nowhere to lay me head.

But we'll get by, Phil.
We'll stick together like we always do.

- We'll find something.
- You don't have to.

- Now, Mother.
- Listen to me, George, you don't have to.

Because you're coming home with me
to Chesney Wold.

I had a little word with Sir Leicester.

"No one knows horses like my George,"
I told him.

"Well," he said,
"he can come and help look after mine."

I'm coming, too, guvnor.
His Lordship gave the word.

There we are then.

I expect you would be
wanting to thank me, George.

Thank you? For what?

Well, if I hadn't wrongfully arrested you,
none of this would have happened, would it?

You'd never have seen your ma again.

And you'd have still been
swimming over your head in debt and misery.

Oh, George, no! Let him go this minute.

- Beg your pardon, Mr Bucket.
- No hard feelings, George.

- All in a day's work.
- Come on then, George.

Before you get into any more trouble.

- Mr Bucket, a lady to see you.
- All right, Constable.

Oh, Lady Dedlock?

This is an unexpected pleasure, my lady.

Take a seat, why don't you?

- Can I rely on your discretion?
- I think so, Lady Dedlock.

What am I required to be discreet about?

I told you that I was going to see Mr Tulkinghorn
on the night of his death.

You did.

Will I be called as a witness
at the trial of Hortense Jaboulet?

It's possible, my lady.

I should be grateful, very grateful,

if my name could be kept out of the case.

- Yes, I daresay, my lady.
- I do not ask this for my own sake.

- Is that a fact?
- My husband...

- Sir Leicester Dedlock, Baronet.
- ...is not in good health.

If the family name were dragged
into the public prints,

the shock might be too great for him.

Things might come out
that were better kept quiet.

Things that are nothing to do
with the case? Hmm?

That is possible.

I agree with you.

The evidence against Mademoiselle Jaboulet
is solid as a rock.

She's confessed to it. She's proud of it.

All because he said he'd help her to a position,
and then changed his mind. Bang!

- We don't want to confuse the jury, do we?
- No, Inspector.

Whatever Mr Tulkinghorn may have known
or not known,

he's taken it with him to the grave.

Rubbish. Rubbish. Rubbish. Rubbish.

What you looking so pleased about,
you Beelzebub beast?

I've half a mind to skin you and roast you.

What's that?Judy, shake me up.

Shop's shut.
Whoever you are, we don't want your custom!

Get out of it. Sling your hook. Last warning!

- It's only me, Mr Smallweed.
- Didn't you hear what I said?

Get out. Sling your hook before I pepper you.

That's not very friendly, Mr Smallweed.

You see, I've been thinking
about the advice you gave me.

About what's going to happen to me now
and all that.

Do you think I care what happens to you, Clamb?

I'm not the District Providence Society.
I'm a man of business.

Yes, I understand that, Mr Smallweed.

Business is what I've come about.

Fifty-fifty?

Ah.

- Sorry to be back so late. Were you anxious?
- No, not anxious.

But I missed you, Esther. And where's Ada?

Still in London.

- But where is she staying?
- Come sit down.

She's staying with Richard in his lodgings.

They are married.

They have been married for weeks,
and she never told me about it till now.

So....

They're married.

I always thought it would come.
It's just...come a little sooner than I thought.

Is that all you can say about it?

- Are you not angry with them?
- No.

If they are happy, I am happy.

Of course, I shall miss Ada
as I have missed Rick these long months.

But they live in that damp, poky little place!

And Richard looking so ill and wasted.

Well, they're together. I expect that matters
more to them than anything.

- And we are together, too.
- Yes.

Well, well. Our little household's thinning fast.

Things haven't turned out quite as I imagined
they would when you first came here.

No.

I don't suppose things ever do turn out
quite as we imagine them.

But I hope you think
they have not turned out too badly.

No. No, of course not.

Carstone, are you there?

- I see you are engaged.
- What is your business, Mr Woodcourt?

No business at all. I thought we might
take a walk together, Carstone.

As you can see....

As you observed, Mr Woodcourt,
Mr Carstone is engaged at present.

Perhaps another time.

Yes. Right. Very well.

He looked wretched,
but quite set on staying where he was.

And Mr Skimpole was there?

Oh, yes, large as life.
Making himself very much at home.

- I don't like that man.
- Nor do I. I never did.

But Mr Jarndyce has always
had a soft spot for him.

He's coming here this evening.

- You remember Jo, the crossing-sweeper boy?
- Of course.

When I found Jo in the street, half-dead,

he told me you looked after him at Bleak House
when he had the fever.

Yes. But he ran away.

No. He was taken.

And Inspector Bucket told me
it was Skimpole who gave him away.

For money, of course. And because he was afraid
of catching the infection himself.

Tulkinghorn wanted the boy moved on.
And Skimpole was all too happy to help.

Not caring whether the boy lived or died.

I think I shall speak to Mr Skimpole about this.

- Out, out. Closed for business.
- Hello, Mr Smallweed.

Kenge and Carboys. Mr Guppy, the ladies' man.

Well, I know what you're after.

- Do you, Mr Smallweed?
- I do. These.

Well, yes, Mr Smallweed.

As a matter of fact, my client is still interested
in acquiring the letters.

She was good enough to tell me so
only yesterday.

Well, she can't have them. So there!

That's very short-sighted of you,
Mr Smallweed, if I may say so.

- My client is a person of considerable means.
- So is mine. With knobs on. Ha!

That's jiggered you. Well, who is it then, eh?

Use your noddle, Mr Ladies' Man.
Never mind the wife, I'm selling to the husband.

Sir Leicester Dedlock, Bart.
How's that for the highest bidder?

And nothing for Guppy of Kenge and Carboys.

Now, go on, sling your hook. Out, out, out!

All right, all right.

Mr Guppy to see Lady Dedlock.
Matter of extreme urgency.

Well, you can't. She isn't here.

Sir Leicester and Lady Dedlock have gone down
to Chesney Wold.

Right.

Miss Summerson. Delightful.
And looking as lovely as ever.

And a busy bat who'll do little tasks,
I have no doubt. Is Mr Jarndyce not at home?

He will be here in a little while.

Then we shall just have to amuse each other
until he comes.

- Perhaps I might help myself?
- Why not? You always do.

What keen observation.
Indeed, here is the world and its delights.

And here is Harold Skimpole to partake of them.
Will you join me?

Mr Skimpole, I want to talk to you
about Richard Carstone.

- Dear Rick.
- Ada is very anxious about him.

She thinks your visits do him no good
and I agree with her.

I want you to promise to leave him alone.

My dear Miss Summerson, far be it from me
to go anywhere where I'm not wanted.

Richard is ill. And he is poor. He is penniless.

There is no more to be got from him.
You and Mr Vholes have had it all.

Well, I'm bewildered, Miss Summerson.

If my friends choose to lend me money,
what am I to do?

- You seem to forget what a child I am.
- Yes, I do know what sort of a child you are.

When that poor boy Jo was lying at Bleak House,
ill and near to death, you took a bribe.

How much was it? £5? To betray his whereabouts.

- Can you deny it?
- A bribe, Miss Summerson?

I don't even understand the meaning of the word.

Oh, yes, I think you do.

And what do you think Mr Jarndyce would say
if I told him how you betrayed his trust?

Betrayed his....

Betrayed his trust?

No, no. You've lost me there.

These are matters that Harold Skimpole
cannot possibly understand.

But I do sense a certain something
in the atmosphere.

And, do you know,
I think I might take my leave now.

Do give my apologies to my dear friend Jarndyce.

Perhaps we might not be seeing
so much of each other in the future.

And to my dear friend Richard and his lovely wife.

And coming to your excellent self,
Miss Summerson....

No need to pretend, Mr Skimpole. Goodbye.

Skimpole, sorry to be late.

- Just going, in fact.
- Oh.

Events.

Events, people and so on. Goodbye.

Odd.

He's an odd man.

Mr Guppy, my lady.

Mr Guppy, you are all wet.

Yes, milady. A thousand apologies.

I tried to get a cab at the station. No luck.

Walked all the way. Ran part of it.

Calm yourself, Mr Guppy.

Have you brought the letters?

I beg Your Ladyship's pardon,

but no, I have not.

Were they destroyed?

Smallweed's got them.

- Who is Smallweed?
- He is a man, my lady.

I believe he is coming here
to make mischief with them.

- I see.
- I thought you ought to know.

He don't stop at nothing, Smallweed don't.

I came as quick as I could to tell you, milady.

I'm sorry I could not be of more service.

Thank you, Mr Guppy.

Wait there one moment.

Fortnum.

Fortnum.

There is a man named Smallweed.

He is not to be admitted
under any circumstances. Is that understood?

I'm very sorry, my lady.
I've just shown him into the library.

Well, Mr Smallweed, what can I do for you?

That's very civil of you, sir.

Very civil.

That's a gentleman, that is. Shake me up a bit.

That's enough, you poll-parrot.

- Mr Smallweed....
- You don't know me, sir.

I was a client and a good friend
of Mr Tulkinghorn, deceased.

I was useful to him and he was useful to me.

Now, I've come into some letters

that belonged to a man
who went by the name of Nemo.

A law-writer.

These letters was from his sweetheart,
his little lovey-dovey,

and very tender they was, too.

Mr Smallweed,
I don't understand how this concerns me.

What if I was to tell you
that his little lovey-dovey signed herself

Honoria Barbary?

- What?
- Ain't such a common name, now, is it?

Ah!

Concerns you now, doesn't it?

Honoria Barbary, as was.

Lady Honoria Dedlock, as is.

And her sweetheart Nemo,
real name Captain Hawdon.

And the child she had by him
that he never set eyes on.

This is the most preposterous nonsense
that I have ever heard.

I'll hear no more of it. Fortnum. Fortnum!

Wait a bit. Wait till you see the writing.
Here, have a look at this.

Take them over to him, Judy.

Show him them. Don't let him touch them.

How about that then, Sir Leicester Dedlock?

You ever seen a hand like that before?

- Sir?
- No.

No. Go away.

- What do you want?
- £500.

I had thought of selling them on the market
to the highest bidder.

But then I thought you'd like to keep it private.

Well, do you want them or not?

I come a long way today,
and my bones have been all shook up.

£500, yes or no?

For your lady's honour, and your family's honour.

Mr Tulkinghorn, he was very keen on that,
and I'll bet you are, too, eh?

So what do you say?

Very well, Mr Smallweed.

What did I tell you, Judy?
A true copper-bottomed gent.

Let's shake hands on it.

Steady.

Mrs Rouncewell, are you there?

Mrs Rouncewell, would you have the goodness
to ask my lady to come down to the library?

My lady has gone out, sir.

- Gone out?
- Yes, sir.

If you please, sir. She left this for you.

You know my secret now,

and, of course, our life together is over.

I will encumber you no more.

I hope you will be able to forget
the unworthy woman

on whom you have wasted
a most generous devotion,

and who writes this last adieu.

Please, sir, don't tire yourself.

I came as quick as I could. She's gone, then?

Give him the slate. Maybe he can write a bit.

I'll do me best, sir.

Left your clothes behind.

And your jewels.

Did you take any money?

Hello, what's this?

Esther.

He's fretting something terrible.

Tell him Bucket's on the case,
and no time to be lost.

- My guess is she's gone south.
- But where?

That I don't know.

But I do know where to start.

Miss Summerson, you'll excuse me being direct.

This is a matter of life and death,
and time is short.

The fact is
I know that you are Lady Dedlock's daughter.

How?

Let's just say I've known for some time.

How isn't important.

I'll need your help, miss.

Lady Dedlock has gone missing,
and I fear for her life.

Has she tried to see you, miss?

No notes, no messages?

No, no. Nothing at all.

I wouldn't have expected it.

The last time I spoke to her
she said we would never be able to meet again.

She may do yet.

I believe her to be in a desperate state, miss.

And people in desperate states often do
go back on things they've said previous.

Well, I'll put the word out about her,
and search in the usual places.

What do you mean by the usual places?

Tom-All-Alone's, miss, to start with,

and then the river.

Desperate folk very often seem to find
their way there. The doctor will tell you that.

- I want to come with you.
- I wouldn't advise it, miss.

She's my mother.

My lady, what's the matter?

Oh, look at the state of you.

I was hoping to see Esther Summerson.

I went to Bleak House, but it was all shut up.

I was hoping you could tell me
where I might find her.

I think they're all in London, my lady.

But I don't know where.

London.

Won't you stay a while and rest?
Come and sit by the fire.

No. No, thank you.
You're very kind, but I must go on.

At least wait until your clothes are dried out.

My lady, stop!

Looking for a lady.

A lady.

Know what that is?

Dark, about the size of this lady here.

Has she been seen?

Come on, wake up!

Looking for a lady.

What, sir?

Any....

No, sir. No news yet.

But Mr Bucket's on the trail, sir.

And there's none better at finding folk,
whether they want to be found or not.

What is this place?

This is where they bring the drowned of the river.

Man.

Woman.

Not her.

Man.

Can't hardly tell what this one is.

Too long dead for us, anyways.

Man.

Man.

Woman.

Not her.

Poor creature.

Well, I'm stumped. I have to admit it.

We've covered all the hotels, the hostels,
the sixpenny doss houses, even. Nothing.

Please, miss. A boy brought this for you.
He wouldn't wait. He ran off.

Thank you.

- Whose writing is it?
- My mother's.

"I have wandered a long distance,
and I know that I must soon die.

"I have done all I could to be lost.

"I have nothing about me
by which I may be recognised.

"Farewell, my dear one.

"The place where I shall lie down,
if I can get so far,

"has been often in my mind.

"Forgive me."

Why didn't I think of it?

Come on!