All language subtitles for Harlots.S02E05.WEBRip.x264-ION10

‐You have an instinct
for violence,

I can see that in you.

‐A Spartan does not blunder.

‐I have a hostage,
her own daughter.

‐You work for me
when I tell you to.

‐Mrs. Quigley is a bawd.

Lord Dodds is
the Lord Chief Justice.

‐Miss Anne Pettifer.

‐I prefer a riper fruit.

‐I need your assurance
that you'll stand up

in a court of law.

‐Do I have your word?
‐You do.

‐Miss Lydia Quigley,
you're under arrest for‐‐

‐(gasps)
‐Get out!

‐She has the Lord Chief Justice
between her thighs.

‐We need to fight like her.

‐We're a five‐headed beast now.

You just tell us
when to roar.

(theme music)

♪

We'll stab out her eyes
with a moldy old post.

(cackling)

‐Throw her in a slurry pit,
step on her head.

(soft music)

‐Could always get
the King's elephant

to sit on her.

‐Shit on her.

(cackling)

♪

‐You're a brave slut,
Emily Lacey.

We'll look out for you.

‐Let's hope that's enough.

♪

‐Suddenly gone
very cold in here.

‐Please keep your voices down.

(giggling)

‐I'll do better than that.

I'll go home.

To my Will.

(giggling)

(panting)

‐Ride hard, my stallion!

Faster, boy, faster!

(driving music)

(giggling)

(moaning, groaning)

♪

(moaning, laughter)

The race is won!

‐You are exquisite.

‐And you, my good sir,
are a powerful steed.

(chuckling)

I hope we may ride together
often.

(chuckling)

♪

‐Morning.

♪

Girls.

I need you to go
on a molly hunt for me.

(giggling)

Prince Rasselas.

Do you know him?

‐That pretty boy
with a look of the East?

‐That's him.

I need you to find him.

Look everywhere.

Covent Garden,
Sodomite's Walk,

all the molly houses.

Tell him I want to see him.

We'll pay if we have to.

‐Go on.
‐You should not admit

such an unnatural creature
into this house.

‐We admit much worse.

‐Tell Mr. Hunt
you made it yourself.

‐That's a lie, Mother.

‐You need not wear your cap.

‐Sounds like you're trying
to marry her off,

Mrs. Scanwell.

‐He is a man
of sound convictions,

with a good salary
from the crown.

‐I like your thinking.

You should come and work
as a pimp for us.

Eh, Fanny?

‐She's just trying to do
what's best for her daughter.

Like all of us.

‐Fanny.

Don't do that again.

Don't insult me
in front of Mrs. Scanwell.

‐What about my baby, then?

You've said she has to go
when she's weaned.

And if she goes, I go.

Who'll be your best girl then?

‐What's in your tea
this morning, eh?

I wouldn't dream of
parting you from each other.

No more stomach for it.

‐Thank you.

Think the justice
will act, Mrs. Wells?

On the button that we found
in Kitty's hair?

(dark music)

♪

(soft snoring)

♪

‐I'll not sleep on the chaise.

‐Can you forgive
my cockeyed notions?

‐We must show...

that Golden Square
thrives once more.

I think it's time
for our annual audience

with the goddess Vesta.

‐Can I play Vesta again?

‐Don't be silly, Ann.

Charlotte is our goddess.

You may organize
the rituals of the virgins,

while I find us a real one
to sacrifice.

♪

‐I'll come with you.

I want to know
how the best bawd in London

snags a virgin.

‐To what purpose?

‐To learn.

To be like her.

‐I wonder if you have
the stomach for it.

‐Try me.

(dark music)

‐Hmph.

♪

(snorting noises)

‐Go away, Emily Pig.

‐But I love Emily Pig.

‐You should love
a little piglet like me.

‐Oh no.

‐Why not sail
on Nell's fulsome tides?

Or we could just have a poke.

‐You have her.

I'll take the little one.

‐Cherry, would you like
to entertain this gentleman?

‐I'm entertaining Charles.
‐He can spare you.

Get up, Emily!

Your house is busy.

(sighs)

(shouting, clatter)

‐Help! Someone,
my cull's gone mad!

Get away, maggot!

I'll mash your face in!

‐Nell!

‐Help!
‐Nell!

(sounds of struggle)

‐Charlie!

‐What?

(sounds of struggle)

(thud)

‐Tie him up!

Charles, go to the tavern,
fetch William North.

Go, go!

My children!

(tense music)

‐You're lucky this knife's
not for you.

♪

(thudding crash)

‐Get out!
‐Move!

♪

(shouting)

‐This is it, Nance,
it's started.

(hooves clop, dog barks)

‐Where's North,
where's North?

North!

Harriet.

Bad men.

♪

Wait!

♪

‐It's plain as day
what your ma's up to.

‐Don't.
‐Why?

Make a good match.

You can sing hymns together

‐before humping.
‐Stop it.

‐Miss Scanwell.

I expect you've heard by now
about Mrs. Quigley.

It seems I have met with
the limits of the law.

‐If you concede that,

what is your purpose?

(exclaims)

‐Think she likes you.

(door slams)

(panting, gasping)

‐Twittering turd!

Who sent you?

‐The Duke of York.

(exclaims)

‐You insolent bollock bag!

Who hired you?

(groaning)

‐The bawd! Quigley!

(grunting)

Quigley sent us.

(tense music)

♪

(hooves clopping)

(street noises)

♪

‐These people want honest jobs.

‐They think they do.

But who really
wants to be a drudge

for six pounds a year
when they can live in splendor

at Golden Square?

‐The virgin will come willingly
if you pay her enough.

‐But she'd lack the reticence

so prized amongst our gentlemen.

You know my standards.

Secure me a pretty maid
and be sure to test her

about her virtue.

‐You show me.

‐If you really want
to be my apprentice,

I insist you try.

♪

‐Who was your first?

‐A stable boy,
chosen by me.

‐How many men
have you had since?

‐I'm a harlot.

I don't keep count.

‐How many have
given you pleasure?

‐Only you.

‐Well, that makes me
your true first.

(gasps)

♪

‐Do you seek work?

‐Yes, ma'am.

‐What's your experience?

‐Keeping house
with my ma, mostly.

Will I be free to go
to church on Sundays?

‐No.

We're a godless household,

you should seek somewhere else.

‐Why have you let her go?

She could be positively regal.

‐She wanted to go to church.

‐Oh.

Tell them what
they want to hear,

just get them through the door.

‐You are more artful with words.

♪

‐We'll do it together.

♪

‐Where have you gone to?

‐I was thinking about Kitty.

Who killed her.

‐These things befall the weak.

‐You think it was her fault?

‐There are hunters,

and there are prey.

Killing is an art.

A killer has
a certain nobility.

A superiority of character.

‐I thought killing
was a desperate act.

‐Quite the contrary.

It is the preserve
of a select few.

(street noises)

(indistinct chatter)

‐I had a friend
who liked faro.

‐You are a tasty piece,

but we do not wish to hear.

‐She's dead now.

‐Were her brains in her udders,
like yours?

(laughter)

‐That's the man.

‐Could I have a word, sir?

‐Can a gentleman
not play cards in peace?

‐If you would
step over here with me,

we can...t‐t‐talk in private.

‐I don't want
to t‐t‐talk at all.

‐Then I will apply for a warrant

and come to your house.

‐Outrageous!

This is meant to be a refuge.

Who let this dismal man in?

‐I will not tolerate
the consumption of alcohol,

nor any liaison with young men.

‐The smell of drink
makes me sick, ma'am,

and I've never
so much as kissed a boy.

‐Oh.

Well, I'm sure you'll fit
right in.

(dark music)

(street clamor)

‐The truth is always best.

‐Do excuse me one moment.

I wish to give alms to the poor.

‐...and the truth,
and the life.

We must not lie
to each other.

I smell ratsbane.

‐You will taste it
if you fail to do as I ask.

‐I have no fears for my life.

‐What of Amelia's?

What life could she expect,
I wonder,

if it were known
she spends her days

tuft hunting
with her black whore?

‐What hell broth do you spew?

‐One of your daughter's making.

I want you to go
to Justice Hunt

and to tell him
that Margaret Wells

is forcing girls
to work in her house

against their will.

Tell him how it sickens you,

how you cannot bear
such cruelty

even for one day more.

‐She's a good woman.

Your mother.

‐She's not my mother.

♪

‐There.

Such deeds are so bracing
for the soul.

(door slams)

♪

‐Is that him?

(groaning)

‐Rasselas?

(exclaims)

‐Who in Lucifer's name are you?

(bell tolling)

(clears throat)

‐Mr. Hunt.

‐Ah.

Um, for you,

in return for
the delicious gift you left,

with an apology,
I fear I upset you earlier.

‐Oh, I apologize.

I was‐‐I was harsh.

‐Then we make
an apologetic...p‐p‐pair.

Would you take a walk with me?

‐Um...

(lively music)

♪

(huffing, puffing)

‐Come on, Charlie!

‐Put some chops into it!

‐She broke her word!

I will not let her scare us.

She will feel
the sting of my tongue.

‐You stay away from her.

‐Keep your fists up, big man.

(knocking)

(thudding punches)

‐Come to crow?

‐I've come to help.

‐You helped me once before.

‐Deserve that.

(grunting)

What kind of mother
attacks her own son?

‐Concentrate.
‐You leave him alone.

You promised me protection.

‐You're not helping,

keeping the son in the house.

How did she find out so soon?

‐Not from him.

He's my only shield
against her.

‐Shame he's a useless prick.

You need a bully.

‐Get soldier boy in there.
‐I can't pay him.

I've got repairs to make.

‐I'll pay.

Till you're sorted.

‐Guilt money.

(soft music)

I'll take it.

♪

And stick a musket
up Charlotte's ass.

What is she doing
in that house?

‐She stands to lose
more than any of us.

♪

‐Not from where I'm standing.

♪

‐I'm the eldest of five.

My mother cried
when I left.

But she'll be pleased
when I send money home.

‐And where is home?

‐Langley
‐Ah!

London must be overwhelming.

‐Well, it would be,

had I not met such kind people
so soon.

I look forward
to repaying your faith

with hard work.

‐Well, we're very lucky
to have found you.

(tense music)

♪

‐I have dedicated myself
to the law,

but discovering
its imperfections

leads me to question

‐my whole life.
‐Oh, please don't.

‐You do your best.
‐But I...I can do better.

Your goodness is a standard

by which I wish to be measured.

‐I am not good.

‐But you have
transformed Violet.

Given the right position
in society,

you could guide
so many others.

(stammers)

Would you be my wife?

(soft music)

You could keep me steadfast.

I could keep you safe.

♪

(stammers)

This is, um, too sudden,
I see.

♪

Please.

I ask...only
that you think about it.

♪

(clears his throat)

‐You'll answer the door
and gauge the culls.

‐And come running
if we start screaming.

‐Does this mean
I get favorable terms?

‐No terms, no touching.

‐You're one of us now.
‐Like a big brother.

You can teach me to fight.

‐That's not fun.

I'd rather teach you
some things

I learned in France.

‐We know it all.

‐Was it worth running?

‐I feared the same fate
as your girl.

‐A life lived in fear
is not life worth living.

‐What do you want of me?

‐I want you to be my eyes
in Golden Square.

(approaching footsteps)

‐Rasselas!

‐Amelia!

(soft music)

‐Where have you been?

‐There must be some good in you

to be missed so.

♪

‐She will fit in well.

‐What if she doesn't want to?

‐Why wouldn't she?

Virtue is a hindrance
to a woman.

After tonight,
she can climb.

(dark music)

♪

I'm proud of you.

Your mother was never
strong enough

to help with new girls.

You surpass her in every way.

♪

What do you want, Charles?

‐No true mother would
attack her son's home.

‐And no son of mine would be
such a dull‐headed dupe.

‐We had an agreement.
‐Which your treacherous

trollop broke,
she tried to have me hanged.

‐You're lying.
‐Am I?

Go to the justice,
ask him yourself,

and get out of my house!

‐How can I stand at an altar
and vow before God

to worship his body?

‐I always follow my heart

and live in penury for it.

‐Amelia.

A word?

Alone.

I do not like
the company you keep.

‐He's my friend.
‐He's a sinner.

‐Jesus taught us
to go among them.

‐But not to become one.

I know.

I know the grubby little
secret you have

with Violet Cross.

♪

I met Mr. Hunt.

God has put him in your way.

He asked me for your hand.

‐I can't marry him.
‐You will marry him!

♪

I have given my life
to you, Amelia.

I ask that you do this
in return.

‐But I don't love him.

♪

‐Love.

♪

Mr. Hunt will save us.

Your black whore
will drag you down.

♪

‐For God's sake, man,

first you interrupt my whoring

and then this warrant arrives.

‐Lord Liddington has been
implicated in a murder.

I'm sure you'll agree
there is a distinction.

‐He is the son of
the Earl of Hovingham.

‐There is evidence.

This was found
on the murdered woman.

It matches a jacket
worn by...

‐Lord Liddington.
‐Did you find it?

‐No, one of
the victim's friends.

‐Have you seen
the matching jacket?

‐No.
‐So...

you want to raise a warrant

on the strength of a button

and the word of a whore?

If there is anything in this,

you must find
plausible evidence.

And stop harassing the nobility.

(door slams)

(birdsong)

‐I feel sick.

‐It's not your crime.

‐It will be if I don't save her.

Entrapment, rape, ruin.

‐Then let's go
to the Justice now.

‐I'm implicated in all of it.

And he won't want
a repeat of last night.

We have to get the girl to him.

‐How?

(sighs)

‐We need someone trustworthy

to bid for her

and take her from the house.

Do you know of anyone?

‐I don't trust a single soul
in my circle.

‐Then I must go to my ma
on Greek Street.

She'll find someone.

Here. It's over 100 pounds.

I've known men
bid 200 for a virgin.

Add to it if you can.

Ma will too.

‐You trust me to do this?

(tense music)

‐Abigail.

♪

That's the girl's name.

A sweet thing,

untarnished by our world.

♪

Help her stay that way.

♪

(horse snuffles)

♪

(hooves clopping)

(knocking)

(indistinct shouting in street)

‐Miss Scanwell.

Come in, come in.

Please.

Dare I hope you...

...have an answer for me?

(soft music)

‐Yes.

My answer is yes.

♪

My mother's keen
for it to happen soon.

♪

‐My dear.

♪

‐This is my most
prized possession,

acquired from
the furthest reaches of Greece.

The dagger of a Spartan warrior.

The Spartans were
a superior race.

They killed their lessers,
the Helots,

as a rite of passage.

‐What made them lesser?

‐Their blood.

‐Have you ever used it?

♪

‐I consider myself a Spartan.

♪

Does that scare you?

(music intensifies)

♪

I'm a Spartan too.

♪

‐You want money.

‐I always want money.

‐Is Charlotte Wells
blackmailing you?

‐She saw me out riding naked

and threatens to ruin
my reputation.

‐What's left of it.
‐I'm a grown woman.

I should have free access

to the money Father left me.

‐You are ludicrous.

Cavorting with a harlot,
letting her fleece you.

It would be reckless of me
to give an imbecile like you

your own funds.

You need me to take care of you.

‐You're not fit
to take care of anyone.

‐You see? You're disturbed.

Attacking your devoted guardian.

‐Just give me a hundred pounds

and I will leave you in peace.

‐Is it the bawd
who blackmails you,

‐is Charlotte...
‐Give me my money!

‐I'm getting warmer.

♪

That's all you get
till you start telling me

some truths.

♪

(knocking)

♪

‐You have been elusive.

‐The new justice
is hanging my kind.

‐And persecuting mine.

Your cheek looks hollow.

‐I lost my dear boy.

‐So did I.

Hmph.

We're hosting a communion

of Vestal Virgins this evening.

Stay.

Be our honorary eunuch.

(intense, driving music)

♪

(sniffing)

♪

‐Come again.

You're welcome anytime.

Fanny, how you getting on
up there?

♪

He only paid
for half an hour!

(cackling)

♪

(deeply inhaling)

♪

(deeply inhaling)

‐"The prince hacked his way
through the forest

and climbed to the tower

where the beauty lay sleeping."

Much like your todger.

♪

‐You lost?

‐He had a good old sniff
of my fundament,

but he didn't want
to touch it.

(cackling)

‐Margaret.

Girls.

‐I'm Lady Isabella Fitzwilliam.

Charlotte sent me.

She's contrived the means
to trap the viper Quigley.

‐And what's Quigley to you?

‐A perpetual menace.

(tense music)

♪

‐And what does Charlotte
want us to do?

‐We need to buy a virgin.

♪

(door slams)

(approaching footsteps)

‐Webster's needed
in Greek Street.

‐He's only been here a minute.

‐Well...

I'll be your bully tonight.

Mags has other plans for him.

♪

(door slams)

♪

‐What are you doing
skulking in here?

‐You scared of Nancy?
‐Scared of you.

Why did you give evidence
against my mother?

‐Not sure that I did.
‐Don't lie!

‐She threatened to kill me.

‐Then you should have
come to me,

instead of plotting
with the Wells woman

and that virago out there.

‐I know. I know.

I'm sorry.

You're my shield.

You'll protect me
against her, won't you?

♪

You have to.

I need you.

‐I can't trust you.

♪

‐Then trust this.

There's a little Quigley
growing inside me.

♪

(exotic music)

♪

‐Welcome, gentlemen,

to the sacred Temple of Vesta.

Behold her chaste priestesses,
the Vestal Virgins,

as they prepare the way
for the goddess herself.

Praise Vesta!

Goddess of the hearth

and bringer of good fortune.

♪

Make your sacrifices,
gentlemen,

that you may approach her.

Enchanté.

♪

Sent especially for you
from Greek Street.

♪

‐Got your story straight?

‐I think so.

The lads'll be outside

when you bring the girl out.

(indistinct conversations)

‐You sure he's up to it?

‐Chance to play the hero.

He'll love every minute of it.

(funky, rhythmic music)

♪

‐You seem agitated,
for a goddess.

‐I'm waiting for the moment
that girl awakes

and screams the house down.

‐Have confidence.

She will remain in a stupor
all evening.

♪

What swarthy stranger is this?

Welcome, sir, you're new
to Golden Square.

‐Oh, I'm long overdue.

‐Why, Mr. Webster.

So glad you could come.

‐You know this gentleman.
‐In every sense.

‐He's obscenely rich.
‐(gasps)

‐What is your business?
‐Coffee beans, madam.

Only the finest.

Miss Wells knows
of my rarefied tastes.

(laughter)

I can see why
she invited me.

‐Then, please,
enter the Temple of Vesta.

(chuckling)

♪

‐Will you frolic with me?

‐It smells funny.

‐It relaxes the mind.

Like laudanum.

‐My ma's against all that.

She won't take on girls that
have anything to do with it.

‐And you always do
what your mother tells you.

Even if she'll never know.

(deeply inhales)

♪

‐Excuse me, sir.

‐Have I wandered into heaven?

‐Very close, we hope.
What a delightful surprise.

Please enter our temple
of sacred virgins.

‐I wished only a word.

‐I'm at your service,
Your Lordship.

‐Are you blackmailing
my sister?

‐"Blackmail" is such
a vulgar word.

I am a keeper of secrets.

‐And you keep hers?

‐Who would ever trust me
if I gave anything away?

(she chuckles)

‐Can you not keep away from me?

‐I am relentless.

‐My demons are all put to bed.

‐Surely you are too young
to have demons.

(soft music)

‐Perhaps I am a demon.

♪

‐What did you mean earlier

when you said
you were a Spartan?

♪

‐The same as you.

‐You've killed?

♪

‐With one stab.

♪

‐Who?

♪

‐I can't say.

Your sort stick together.

And I know really,
I'm a Helot.

♪

‐You killed a superior
in class?

♪

‐Superior in stupidity.

♪

‐Sir George Howard, perchance?

♪

‐Shh.

♪

‐Audacious.

You are indeed a Spartan.

A worthy consort.

♪

(cymbals tinkle)

‐Gentlemen!

What you see before you
is artifice.

The real virgin lies upstairs,

as chaste as the day
she was born.

(murmuring)

She offers herself
as a sacrifice

‐to the highest bidder.
‐May we see her?

‐She is a timid creature.

Shy, quivering, expectant.

In beauty, she more than matches
Vesta's retinue.

‐The rites of Vesta take place
but once a year.

‐I will never understand
men's desire for a virgin.

‐It is like
taking the first bite

of a pristine piece of fruit,

and the pleasure lies
in feeling the flesh give way

and the juices stir.

(cymbals tinkle)

‐Who will open the bidding
at 50 pounds?

(murmuring)

‐Surely a man like you
would prefer a real woman

like me.

‐Fresh fruit cleanses
the palate.

‐Do I hear 60, gentlemen,

or is the field clear
for the marquess?

(dramatic music)

♪

‐Do I hear 70?

Eighty?

Ninety?

One hundred?

‐They'll have no money
left for me.

‐100 from the marquess.

110 for our untouched pearl.

120.

130.

140.

150.

160.

170.

180.

‐Two hundred pounds.

‐A most generous bid
from the dark gentleman.

♪

‐What are you doing?

‐You can't have her.

♪

‐Do I have any advance on 200?

‐I want you

more than ever.

♪

‐200 pounds, gentlemen,
our final offer.

Sold!

‐Well done, good sire.
‐Congratulations.

‐They'll be here soon.

We'll have to go to Hunt's.

And then Charlotte can
get out of that hellhole.

That bitch Quigley
will be buried forever.

(he chuckles)

What?

‐I'm home.

‐I will pay more
to dally with her

in my own lodgings.

‐She's like a newborn lamb.

She needs the security
of the familiar.

‐He's paid enough
to take her to China and back.

‐This should make up
the difference.

‐Ah!

‐Where did you get
that necklace?

‐I won it.

‐At cards.
‐Hm.

It belonged to my grandmother.

‐He won it from your sister.

I was with her.

‐The woman you won this from,

what did she look like?

‐I was with her.

I saw her take the necklace off

and throw it in as a stake.

‐Why such protest?

It's a simple question
for Mr. Webster.

(chuckling)

‐I drunk a lot of wine
that night.

‐Ah.

‐I don't remember.

‐You don't doubt me,
do you, Mrs. Quigley?

(laughter)

‐This man is a liar and a thief,
put him out.

‐I won that girl.

Get off me!

(scuffling)

♪

‐Why won't you listen to me?

‐Your Lordship,

you win the virgin by default.

Please return this necklace
to your sister

with my apologies.

‐He wants me,
not the girl.

‐An unsullied virgin
or a deceitful whore.

I think on this occasion,
you lose.

‐Would you excuse me
for a moment? Charlotte.

♪

‐I'm so sorry, I don't know
what that was about.

Shall we carry on as we were?

♪

‐You're right.

I haven't the stomach for it.

I want to spare the girl.

‐There's more to it.

I've been watching you
with that imposter,

you're plotting something.

You, him, Lady Fitz.

‐I want to get the girl out.

Lady Fitz knows nothing of it.

‐Hm.

♪

Liar.

♪

(lock clicks)

♪

‐Lydia.

Lydia, I'm telling the truth.

(banging on door)

Lydia!

Can't you let me out?

♪

(ambient music)