All language subtitles for Grantchester - 01x03 - Episode 3.BluRay.English.orig.Addic7ed.com

Don't feel obliged
to say yes.

Say anything you want
to us.

Honestly,
we can take it.

Amanda didn't even want to ask
in the first place.

Because I know
how busy you are.

It's worth a shot,
don't you think?

Just ask.

How would you feel about
marrying us in Grantchester?

It would be my honor.

See?

You have no idea
how much this means to us.

As you don't live
in my parish,

I will have to make
an application

to the archbishop.

Whatever it takes.

And as your priest,

I have to ask...

He's gone all serious.

You're entering into this
with your eyes open?

Marriage is not something
to be taken lightly.

Well no, we're not
taking it lightly, are we?

No.

It's such a relief.

You've got no idea.

Morning!

Uh... just a minute!

Hand-holders
in the sitting room.

Thomas Owen's widow
in the kitchen.

The tap in the churchyard
has given up the ghost,

causing no end of grievance
for Miss Sheppard.

You've forgotten,
haven't you?

Forgotten?

This cannot go on,
Mr. Chambers.

Sorry!

Leonard!

I can't tell you how long
I've waited for this.

I look forward
to brisk walks,

quiet reflection,

and evenings by the fireside
with your good self,

fiercely discussing the status
of the priesthood.

Welcome home, Leonard.

You're to keep
your room tidy

and clean up
after yourself.

Hand-holders,
Mr. Chambers!

Cupboards are
for clothes.

Shelves for books.

Washing and ironing
will be extra,

especially if you want
your dog collars starched.

Meals are provided.

It's a lot easier
now that I've come

to the end
of my ration book.

It won't include much fish.

Don't go getting yourself
involved.

Involved?

Crime, women, drinking.

We've had enough of it.

The church and the parish

will be his only concern,
Mrs. M.

I'm sure everything
will work out beautifully.

Have you been a curate before?

No.

Then everything'll
be a surprise to you.

She isn't one
to mince her words.

I can tell.

Uh...

That man in there,
Arthur Evans.

He's a rotten apple.

Mr. Finch.

Mr. Finch!

We very much hope
to be married.

We've resolved
to be married.

Resolved.

That's right, Arthur.

We're resolved.

I understand we've only known
each other a few months...

Seven months.

Seven months since I...

...started work
at the chemist's.

When you know,
you know, don't you?

It would be my honor.

You're both
entering into this

with your eyes open?

Marriage is not a decision
to be taken lightly.

We don't take it lightly,
do we, Is?

I'm sorry.

If you have any misgivings...

It's not her
with the misgivings.

Mum?

You have a visitor.

Hello, Mrs. Livingstone.

How about
some nice soup?

She came to you?

Soft girl.

She wanted guidance.

The church.

Always meddling
in people's affairs.

It's my job to help.

It's yourjob to meddle.

Why do you believe
in it all?

Clever man like you.

My sister's the same.

I never understood it,

this blind acceptance.

It's called faith.

To the point,
Mr. Chambers.

I'm sure you must
have a point.

Your daughter's in love.

What does a bachelor
know of love?

I know enough.

Toiling away in that place.

No wife, no children.

What a waste.

They're not getting married.

What are you so opposed to?

Arthur Evans.

He's trying to do me in.

It's a little on the hot side.

I love him, mum.

You don't know him.

If it is a mistake,
it's Isabel's to make.

You do not know him.

I can't stay here.

I can't breathe.

Oh...!

This is what she's like.

This is what I have
to put up with.

When I was little,

she used to pinch me
when I slept.

She said it was
because she was scared.

She wanted to check
I was still breathing.

You should've seen the bruises.

I love him.

Mum?

Mama?

I'm sorry.

Mum?

I... I'm sorry.

Oh, well.

I'm not sure
even Jesus himself

would have a way
with your mother.

I'll visit again
tomorrow.

Every day, I'll...

I'll bore her to tears
if that's what it takes.

There'll be a way, Is.

There's always a way.

Thank you.

Mr. Chambers!

Miss Sheppard.

Have you heard?

The tap.

Begonias are in an awful fix.

I do like my displays
to be perfect.

Flowers
make people happy,

don't you think?

Medicine for the soul.

Were you visiting
my sister?

Attempting to, yes.

Oh, dear.

Remember: the tap.

The tap, absolutely.

Feet!

I know, I know!

Is there anything
I can be doing?

Anything that might require
my attention elsewhere, perhaps?

I'll be with you
in just a minute.

What did he want?

The rotten apple?

I'd say that was almost
certainly none of your business.

I know a bit
about rotten apples.

I was married to one
for 20 years.

It's your standards.

They're slipping.

Leonard...

How about you start
on your sermon?

You're preaching
on Sunday.

Sunday?

As in... Sunday?

Just speak
from the heart.

You can't go far wrong.

Oh, for God's sake,
it's one pint.

I'm not drinking.

Spoilsport.

What's this?

It's from Hildegard Staunton.

The German?

Geordie!

"Dear Sidney,

I hope this letter
finds you well."

That's debatable.

"It's been some time
since I saw you last

"in those sad,
long days

"after my husband's funeral.

"I miss Cambridge

and find my thoughts
stray to you often."

You sly old dog.

Will you write back?

It's too soon.

And, in some ways, too late.

Oh, bollocks.

Be straight with me, please.

Sometimes in life,

you just have to get on
with things.

It's a wife you need,
not a dog.

Adog is all
I was offered.

That new fella of yours...
the pansy.

He's just made
an entrance.

You are needed.

As a matter of urgency.

Mr. Chambers...

Is it my sister?

Gladys, perhaps
you should come upstairs.

Oh, dear.

No.

No, I...

I don't think so.

Wake up, mum!

Isabel...

Wake up!

Stop it.

Wake up, mum!

Wake up.

Wake up!

Get down, Sandy! Get down!

Morning!

How's Isabel?

Sleeping.

Finally.

In regard to what
we were discussing...

The wedding?

We'll not make
an announcement

before the funeral,
obviously.

You'd like to go ahead with it?

As soon as possible.

If you can keep it
under your hat until then.

Of course.

To announce it now
when we should be in mourning,

well, it wouldn't look right,
would it?

Rotten to the core.

I'm not getting
involved.

Tea, Mr. Finch?

I say let the world
go to hell,

but I should always
have my tea.

Yes, please.

Sidney...

It's very much
a first draft.

I'll be brutally honest.

Well, perhaps not brutally.

With regard
to Mr. Evans...

The church
and the parish

will be my only concern,
Mrs. Maguire.

I hear you've got yourself
a rotten apple.

He had something
to do with it.

I know he did.

You just have to look at him.

I'm sorry we've wasted
your time.

No, you haven't.

Arthur Evans.

There's no record of him.

Using an alias,
most likely.

And no one uses an alias
unless...

They're a rotten apple.

What do you think to him?

I'm supposed to give people
the benefit of the doubt.

You don't trust him
any more than I do.

Mrs. Livingstone thought that
Arthur was trying to do her in.

Her words, not mine.

She never said that.

How awful.

You have to give people
the benefit of the doubt.

I don't.

I have my parishioners
to think about.

Daisy Livingstone
was your parishioner too.

It's a delicate matter,
Dr. Robinson.

There's no such thing
as a delicate matter

as far as I'm concerned.

Mrs. Livingstone.

Ah.

The delightful
Mrs. Livingstone.

What was the cause of death?

Complications resulting
from breast cancer.

So you believe she had
a pressing appointment

with her maker?

I think she lived longer
than she should have.

Out of sheer spite.

Is there a chance
Mrs. Livingstone

was, uh...

...helped on her way?

As far as I'm concerned,
she died of natural causes.

So you found no reason
to think otherwise?

Um...

Mr. Fielding's
not doing so well.

Ah, thank you, Betty.

Sidney, myjob is to state
the cause of death

to the best of my knowledge.

How are we today,
Mr. Fielding?

Not too bright, Doctor.

Give me a minute,
I'll be right with you.

So you signed off
on the death certificate?

I saw no reason not to.

I had dealings
with this coroner before.

He's retiring, thank God.

Utterly useless.

"Intent."

That's all the self-important
bastard ever has to say.

No, the question
as I see it, Inspector,

should always be
of intent.

Good afternoon,
Mr. Jarvis.

Good afternoon.

And in this case,
there appears to be none?

None whatsoever.

Good afternoon,
Mr. Jarvis.

Good afternoon.

I don't want to appear
impolite, Mr. Chambers,

but I'm not quite sure
how this matter involves you.

Are you questioning
my intent,

Mr. Jarvis?

Well, it's just that

we don't often see
the likes of you

in these less than congenial
surroundings.

You didn't perform
a postmortem?

She's been dying
for years.

And the body's
been released?

Well, I sincerely hope so.

The cremation's
this afternoon.

Bloody hell.

Well, that's that then.

Bloody, bloody hell.

If you're to marry them,

you have to put them
through their paces.

Give them advice.

Of course.

Well, perhaps
while you're at it,

you could ask Mr. Evans
a few pertinent questions.

Mother put herself down
for a cremation with the co-op.

No point dragging it out

when we've got the wedding
to think of.

Who was with her
when she died?

No one...
I was out.

I know that sometimes
when those close to you die,

it can often be a relief.

I thought it would be.

She wasn't a kind woman
at the end of her days.

She wasn't a kind woman
full stop.

Still.

She gave me life.

Such as it was.

Arthur...

I will not make the woman out
to be a saint.

We all know

the truth of it.

We found mum's will.

Left everything
to her sister.

She despised
Aunt Gladys.

Despised us even more.

Excuse me.

Daisy Livingstone?

I've come to pay
my respects.

She isn't here.

She was cremated.

Did you know her well?

Many moons ago.

I know she wasn't
a great believer,

but she always wanted
to end her days here.

Under the oak,
she said,

so she could keep an eye
on everyone.

Always liked to keep her eye
on everyone.

Well, thank you anyway.

Cornflowers.

My sister loved them.

It seems a shame

that she wasn't buried
under the oak,

like she wanted.

Oh, dear.

It is a shame, isn't it?

You didn't think
to press the matter?

I wasn't consulted.

Dear Izzy, she's had
such a lot to contend with.

It simply
slipped her mind.

Sidney.

I don't suppose
you had any notes?

My sermon.

Oh, uh...

No, none.

None whatsoever?

Uh, it was very...

Uh...

...pithy.

Excellent.

You have allayed my fears.

Reporting for duty, sir.

Amanda!

Guy's caught up in London.

I promised to tell him
everything verbatim.

I'm even taking notes.

Oh, no...

Oh no, no, no, no, no...

Oh dear, what?

There are tensions
between Kantian

and Utilitarian ethics.

Which brings me back to my
original point about Kant.

Which brings me back, in turn,
to Luke 6:31.

"And as ye would
that men should do to...

"you...

...do ye also to them likewise."

Which brings me back again...

in turn...

to one of the most fascinating
and major alternatives

to the categorical imperative:

Jeremy Bentham's
means-end theory of morality.

Utilitarianism.

You said it was pithy.

In truth, I didn't
have time to read it.

I thought we were supposed
to set an example.

Lying is, after all,

immoral.

Is it immoral if we do it
to preserve someone's feelings?

You were doing it
to save face.

Yes, thank you,
Mrs. Maguire.

In future, I'll read
your sermon ten times.

Adozen times.

Perhaps a little less
philosophy might help.

I like philosophy.

Wisdom isn't always
to be found in books.

I like books.

They're so much less terrifying
than people.

Not all of them
are truly terrifying.

Apart from Mrs. Maguire.

Take Dickens with you.

He always gets
people talking.

If things get tricky,

he's an excellent excuse
to leave.

If one does something wrong
for the greater good,

isn't it a slippery slope?

Where does one stop?

It's a grey area, Leonard.

Poor Leonard.

Poor, poor Leonard.

What is Jeremy Bentham's
means-end theory?

Are you sure you're happy
to take the wedding?

I didn't quite know
how to tell you...

The Archbishop has turned down
your application.

Outsiders getting married
in the church,

it's against protocol,
apparently,

and he's a stickler
for protocol.

Well, if he's a stickler.

It was a silly idea anyway.

Tell me more about
your dead old lady.

I think the daughter or her beau
helped her on her way.

Why would they do that?

So they could get married.

Couldn't they wait?

Apparently not.

Well.

Then there is one possibility
that springs to mind.

Marrying in a hurry,
as quickly as they can.

Oh, for someone
so intelligent,

you're being terribly dim,
Sidney.

Someone's been gossiping.

No one's been gossiping.

Aunt Gladys.

If your mother
wanted to be buried,

why go against her wishes?

Because she never let me
when she was alive.

That's all there is to it.

You don't believe me.

I believe you're not being
entirely honest.

Forgive me, Isabel, but...

...are you pregnant?

At my age.

Arthur said
he was over the moon.

That's where I keep
the housekeeping.

There was
over three pounds.

My jewelry's gone too.

Where is he?

Last night, we had
a restaurant booked.

I waited ever such a long time.

Dickens,
what are you doing here?

Dickens!

Come here.

Sidney!

Miss Sheppard?

The door was open,
so I just...

I didn't think.

Everyone's been so kind.

People have welcomed me,
a perfect stranger,

into their homes
without a second thought.

So I just went in.

I've never seen
a person dead before.

No bruising.

No sign of a struggle.

If this was murder,
she knew her attacker.

Well, it's possible.

Death would've been
instantaneous.

Heart failure, I'd say.

Caused by what?

Well, poison, maybe.

What we have to consider here
is the matter of intent.

Thank you, Mr. Jarvis.

Doctors and vicars:
the only professions

where you're at everyone's
beck and call.

Even when you're attempting
to have a night off.

You wouldn't have it
any other way.

Neither would you.

She's calmer now.

Isabel.

Miss Livingstone.

We found this
in your aunt's house.

Nothing else appears
to have been taken,

just the photograph.

Isabel.

The photo.

Do you remember
what it was?

Me when I was a baby.

Me and my mum.

"He'll break your heart."

That's what she said.

"Men are bastards.

It's what they do."

I should've listened.

Now she wants to throw
her boyfriend to the wolves.

Changed her tune pretty quick.

Her mother's will...
the house, the money.

It all went to the aunt.

And now she's dead,

what's the betting our Isabel
inherits the lot?

Uh, Arthur Evans...

Or Smith...
Grant...?

Whoa, just take
your time, Atkins.

We found his car.

I think he's left Isabel
to face the music.

I want him found.

So you think they're
in on it together?

Arthur and Isabel?

What happened to giving people
the benefit of the doubt?

Sir!

Gotcha!

Stay down.

Jesus!

All this for a bit of cheap
jewelry?

I marry for the money.

I take what I can
and move on.

I don't hurt people.

I don't kill.

So.

How'd you do it?

Bit of poison
in the cocoa?

No.

Poison you stole

from your work
at the chemist

and it's nighty-night?

I wouldn't do that.

Maybe Miss Livingstone
did it, then.

You in on this
together?

That girl's a good girl.

Don't you dare bring her
into this.

You're fond of Isabel.

Anyone can see that.

I feel sorry for her.

You know she's having
your child?

Maybe it'll be
the making of her.

Maybe now that bitch

of a mum's gone,
she can be happy.

Will you tell her...

...it wasn't all lies?

Will you tell her...

Never mind.

There's this bloke.

Old fella.

Been hanging around
for a couple of days.

Honest to God.

Maybe it's him.

Maybe it's him
you should be looking for.

There was an old man.

He came to the church
after Mrs. Livingstone died.

I saw him last night too.

Well, that's not proof,
Sidney.

Fingerprints
on the frame, sir.

They don't match
Arthur Evans.

Father of all,
we pray to thee

for those whom we love
but see no longer.

Grant them thy peace.

Let light perpetual
shine upon them.

Isabel.

Mr. Evans wanted you to know
how sorry he is.

He really did love you.

Tell me, Mr. Chambers,
what do you know of love?

Didn't fancy the wake?

Too many people to avoid.

I, um...

I used to be
a choir boy here.

Sang the solo at midnight mass
every year

till my voice went.

Place doesn't change,
does it?

The world keeps turning,

but Grantchester
stays the same.

Why I had to get away.

How did you know
the sisters?

I went to school
with them.

Snow White and Rose Red,

that's what we used
to call them.

One as soft as snow,
the other prickly as a rose.

You couldn't just, uh...

Thank you.

When I won't come to church,

you bring the church to me,
is that it?

Well, these are the prints
from the photo frame.

And these
from your silver cup.

Chalice.

Looked like
a silver cup to me.

They match.

The old fella was with
Miss Sheppard the day she died.

It's enough
to bring him in.

Right, where we headed?

What's the address?

But you got his name?

Uh, he used to be a choir boy,

if that's any use?

It's no use at all.

No.

Feet!
I know!

I've neglected my duties,
my standards are slipping.

Can I just have a cup of tea
and drink it in peace?

Jack.

This is Mr. Chambers.

He's usually
quite pleasant.

Daisy was a wild girl.

My goodness,
you made a handsome couple.

This was before she was married,
of course?

Before Isabel?

Why did you come back,
Mr. Chapman?

This is from
Miss Sheppard's.

She gave it to me.

There was no Mr. Livingstone,

was there?

Isabel's yours.

Daisy was shipped off.

Came back a year later,

ring on her finger,
little one in her arms.

I wasn't looking for a family.

Not then.

You were just
a boy, Jack.

So...

Isabel has no idea
you exist?

I wanted to...

...to see the world.

I'm afraid I didn't look back.

Until now?

Gladys wrote.

Said her sister
was dying.

That she was sick too.

But there was time
to make things right.

Miss Sheppard was sick?

Cancer.

In the breast,
same as her sister.

Gladys was fine.

I left her to visit
an old pal of mine,

but, well, she was fine.

Well, if that's the case,
we won't keep you for long.

Now you've gone
and done it.

I wasn't prepared,

I don't think.

The constant knocking
at the door,

the people to talk to...

No quiet reflection.

Not a bit of it.

If I'm honest,

I wasn't prepared
to see death.

No one ever is.

I don't know
how you do it, Sidney.

There's no mystery to it.

I thought about giving up
endless times in the beginning.

I did, honestly.

But for every funeral,
every sick child,

every tiresome knock
at the door,

there's a wedding
or a christening

or a quiet chat
by the fireside

about the status
of the priesthood.

It's life we deal in,
Leonard.

The good, the bad,

all the grey areas
in between.

Not so good
with the grey areas.

It's how we face them
that matters.

And running away
isn't really facing them at all.

Sometimes in life,

you just have to get on
with things.

Do we know for sure?

His penchant.

For the opposite
of the opposite sex.

What business is it
of yours or mine

or any-bloody-one
when it comes to that?

Thank you.

How long's this
self-restraint gonna last?

Because frankly,
you're no fun anymore.

What's this?

Be a busman's holiday
for you.

It poses the question,

"Can something
which is not virtuous

ever truly be justified?"

Can it?

No, not really.

What happened
to Jack Chapman?

We'll let him go.

Having a cuppa with an old dear
is not an arrestable offense.

My money's still on the girl
and her fella.

Postmortem came back.

Potassium chloride.

So how are you
finding things?

You made any... friends?

Not friends, exactly.

Everyone's been
very kind.

Very welcoming.

Maybe that's where the old Bill
are going wrong.

Dog collars,
that's what we need.

He does this
from time to time, excuse us.

There was no sign
of a struggle.

Tell me something
I don't know.

Arthur Evans.

Mrs. Livingstone
did not trust him,

and yet there was no sign
of a struggle.

There was no sign of a struggle
at her sister's either.

Exactly.

They let them in.

They trusted the killer
with their lives.

It's open.

Mr. Jarvis.

We're closed.

Unless you want to be arrested,
you're very much open, mate.

Here.

And again.

Jesus Christ.

You signed
all of these off?

Yes.

So many, and you never
thought to question

the causes of death?

He's a good man.

Afine man.

His intent...

Oh, shut up.

Bloody fool.

Will it hurt?

Not a bit.

Dr. Robinson.

No!

Let him do it!

I can't live like this.

Please...

Let him do it.

How many people
have you killed?

Society has to trust

that a doctor knows what is best
for his patients.

You have to trust that.

How many?

I have relatively
uninformed opinions

about the police force,
about theology.

I leave that to you.

I don't know
about your worlds.

I don't expect you
to know about mine.

But when people die,
our worlds collide.

And when they're killed...

Sidney, you've sat
with the dying.

Many times.

And you, Inspector.

Sometimes people are ready.

Sometimes they hold on
and suffer.

Terribly.

I have seen how debilitating
an illness can be.

Then you understand.

No, I don't.

You're a compassionate man.

How could you not?

You've seen Mr. Fielding.

He is suffering.

He wants to die.

I'm sure there were many

who cried out for you
to do something.

You must've felt that
you were relieving their pain.

That they were at peace.

They were with God.

But that can
neverjustify...

God?

I have never seen God

at the bedside of someone
in agonizing pain.

It's an extraordinary
thing.

In those final moments,

I don't think faith makes
a blind bit of a difference.

I do what is right.

So was it right when you killed
Mrs. Livingstone?

Was it right when you killed
Miss Sheppard?

They were old.

They were dying.

They were living too.

You've killed.

You were both soldiers.

You both fought.

It was your duty
to take lives.

And it is your duty
to save them.

My conscience is clear,
Mr. Chambers.

I doubt even you
could say that.

He's a crackpot.

Seems sane enough to me.

The most insane often do.

Do you believe?

What?

There's everjustification
for killing?

Do you think I'd be in this job
if I thought that?

What about war?

War's different.

You know it's different.

Did you kill, Geordie?

What do you think?

One for the road?

It's good to have you back.

It's threadbare,
but it's clean.

Cheer up that gloomy room
of yours no end.

I don't know what to say.

It's the nicest thing
anyone ever gave me.

Polite,
and he hoovers.

If only all men
were like him.

If they were,

there wouldn't be much chance
for the human race.

What do you mean by that?

Oh, uh...

Nothing.

Hand-holders,
sitting room.

This is all rather mysterious.

Why the summons?

Well, there was
a bit of confusion.

The archbishop
granted your request.

You could've lied.

We wouldn't have been
any of the wiser.

I hear we're in
for a treat.

Leonard's second coming.

Kant once wrote,

"By a lie, a man annihilates
his dignity as a man."

Our good friend Immanuel
wasn't one to mince his words.

He saw things
in black and white.

He didn't dwell
on the grey areas.

But who amongst us
can honestly say

that we haven't lied
for good reason?

Who amongst us can say
we live a truly good life?

And that's not to say
we shouldn't try.

We should all continually try
to be the best we can be.

To escape the sins of our past.

To be accepting
of our little foibles.

And of others.

We can't run away
from who we are.

We must turn
and face the truth head on.

Sometimes in life,

it's betterjust
to get on with things.

Dear Hildegard,

It was a wonderful surprise
to hear from you.

I can understand you
missing Cambridge.

Perhaps one day,
you'll come out for a visit.

We could take a boat
out on the Cam.

I'd like that very much.