All language subtitles for The Crimson Petal and The White - 1x01 - Episode 1 (HDTV) en

This programme contains scenes
of a sexual nature.

London, 1874.

Keep your wits about you.

This city is vast, and intricate,
and you do not know your way around.

You imagine, from other stories
you've read, that you know it well.

But those stories flattered you.

You are an alien from another
time and place altogether.

You don't even know
what hour it is, do you?

Nor do most where you're going.

Here people go to sleep
as soon as the gin takes effect.

You've allowed yourself
to be led astray

and there's no hope
of finding your way back.

Elizabeth? I brought candles.

I won't need 'em.
I'm not a pretty sight.

You look all right. Christ, Sugar.

Don't you never blush?

What happened?

Two of 'em.

Wouldn't walk all the way back here.

"How about a quick
soot-arse in the alley?"

Never stopped laughing.

I'm going to hunt them down
and kill them. Course you are.

Like all the ones
who ever done you mischief.

Tomorrow I'll be cold meat.

They'll toss me in the river.
They won't.

I won't let them.

Eels will eat out my eyes.

No-one'll know I ever lived.

I'll know.

You again?
Who have you come to rescue now?

I brought Elizabeth
some calf's-foot jelly.

Too late.

She's dead.

Fly... Fly now...

Fly!

It's from my hat.
She struck at me with...

Curlew? Doctor Curlew's
been sent for.

Oh...

My dear Mrs Fox, please, this way.

It is we who must apologise.

The party ended prematurely.

I'm afraid my sister-in-law
brought it to a halt with a most
unfortunate turn.

Oh, poor Agnes.

I think it best for me to...
see you home.

I'm sorry, William.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

No need for that.

Am I still your little girl?

Yes...

Of course you are!

Always.

Don't touch me. No.

No, of course not.

You know very well Agnes is delicate.

Our current financial woes place
an intolerable strain on her nerves.

It's hardly surprising that
little incidents like this...
Little incidents?!

She knocked a woman's hat
clean off her head with a poker!

She could have had her eye out!

She felt trapped, she said.

Next thing
she caught sight of the stuffed bird
on Lady Bridgelow's bonnet

and believed it
was about to take wing.

She sought only to free it from its
yards of net. Can you hear yourself?

An erroneous impulse, certainly...

..but a generous one at least,

and given our current
financial circumstances...

If you want your circumstances
to change, you know what you have to
do. Turn your mind to the business!

I gave you this year's accounts a
month ago, have you looked at them?
No! I have tried!

I do not have a flair for business!

I am not like you!

I'm a writer!

What have you written?

A small pamphlet.

Not yet published.

Dear God.

Father, if you were only
to sell Rackham's... Sell?

..and invest the proceeds,
we could all live quite comfortably
off the interest!

Your allowance was somewhat reduced.

You may now consider it
altogether withdrawn.

You go ahead, you be your own man.

At your own expense!

But, sir...
Write your way out of that! Sir...

Sir?

Why, pray, was the vintner unable
to make this delivery in person?

How did it come to pass that
I had to ask you to collect
the claret, Christopher?

He says, "Tell Mrs Castaway
it's cos of Christmas."

Oh, Christmas!

What is Christmas?

It's the day Jesus was born.

Who's Jesus? He died for our sins.

Evidently unsuccessfully,
since we're all still paying.

One squirt of slime from the man,

one fishy egg in the woman,

and behold -

they shall call his name...Emmanuel.

Got some bear's grease for ya.

Thank you, Christopher.

All alone, is it? No gent in tow?

Elizabeth is dead.

Gone to a better place.

Huh, always said
she would, didn't she?

Huh!

Who's next?

You?

Me?

Be sure and carry a knife
in your bodice from now on.

I'd never have the wit to use it.

Watch your dress.

You don't want to spoil it. A lot
of trouble you go to for clothes
that only stay on five minutes.

Excuse me, ladies.
I would be honoured to preserve your
image for all time! For all time?

No, thank you. Go on. Why not?

I'd rather not spend
an indefinite future being passed
from hand to hand by strangers.

Wouldn't have minded being
remembered for eternity, that's all.

Elizabeth asked me
to put her in my book.

Thinking the same, I suppose.

I used to love it
when you read your book to us.

But I wondered...

whether you ever thought of
putting a bit of good fortune in.

Like a miraculous rescue!

No.

It's a book of hate, Caddie,

to wreak revenge on every pompous
trembling worm who taps at
Mrs Castaway's door!

BILL!

Oh! Bodley, Ashwell.

What HAS happened to your hair?

Ah, it... It was supposed to
look like Matthew Arnold.

I'm actually pleased it doesn't,
I...I think his latest work
to be overrated.

Come on, old chap,
let's get you a drink.

So, we're quite worn out by
the research for this book.

And, do you have a title yet?

The Efficacy of Prayer.

It's ironic.

Yes.

Is there any hope of finding
a publisher for such a piece?

There's a thundering call these days
for books that destroy the fabric
of society. Speaking of which...

how goes the great work?

At its own pace.

Mmm. Oh, well...

don't let the book
consume you entirely.

You're a virtual recluse these
days, and such opportunities lost!

Opportunities?

Lucy Fitzroy. Only 14. Oh!

Wields a vicious whip
at Madame Georgina's.

An absolute fizgig!

But the one we're just
dying to have a crack at is Sugar.

Sugar? Over at Mrs Castaway's,
a very high-class house.

Of course, one can never get her. I
begin to wonder if she even exists.

The most intriguing reputation.

They say she never disappoints.

That'd put ink in your nib, now.

It should never be necessary to
ring a doorbell more than once...

..especially if it is...
one's own...

Letty.

How is Mrs Rackham?
Well, sir, I believe.

Doctor Curlew is with her.

Mr Rackham?

We're short on coal.

The delivery never arrived.

I've changed supplier.

Our fellow was becoming
quite erratic.

Mr Rackham?

Curlew.

Please.

Well, she's tolerably lucid, but I
expect a full collapse very shortly.

Really?

I had been thinking she seemed
rather better. Then you're deluded.

Rackham, every time I visit her,
she has to fight that much more
strenuously to compose herself.

She finds your visits very stressful.

Perhaps I...
I do understand that having Agnes
temporarily committed...

Committed! ..would cause you personal
pain and social embarrassment.

But I have seen other men
wrestle with the same decision and,

believe me, once they have made it,
they are relieved beyond words.

'The most intriguing reputation.

'They say she never disappoints.

'SUGAR: The jewel
in Castaway's crown.

'Sugar.

'Pay for cotton, but lie in silk.

'Beg, borrow or steal
to buy my services.

'Seek me out at the Fireside Inn.'

How do I look, Clara?

Beautiful.

The doctor...
says I'm not to read any more.

He...he says it excites me.

Well, he doesn't know everything.
No.

You've been a very naughty boy!

So, you never told us what it is
you do, what line of business?

Business? Er...
there's a word I've no time for!

No, I am a writer,

novelist, critic.

What's your name? I might've heard
of you. I very much doubt that.

You ladies don't, if you'll
excuse me, look like readers.

I know more than you might expect.

I've had Charles Dickens. Ain't he
dead? Not the bit she sucked on!

Who's that?

Is that who you're waiting for?
Him and half the fools in 'ere.

Hey, Sugar! Writer, he says!

Waiting for ya.

All his life, I don't doubt!

Good evening, Mr...

Hunt.

With an aitch.

Er, George Hunt.

And you are...? Sugar is
all there is to my name, Mr Hunt.

Sugar.

I do hope you haven't been
waiting too long with
the Three Witches for company.

The Three Witc... That's Macbeth.

You must forgive my appearance.
This foul weather plays havoc
with my hair.

Oh, mine too!

I had it cut. It was supposed
to look like Matthew Arnold.

It doesn't. Be thankful.

I think he's rather overrated,

but I'm sure you know much better
than I.

No! I agree.

Absolutely.

Give me Ruskin, any day!

If it is Mr Ruskin's prose you're
referring to, then I quite concur.

Spare me his poetry.

In verse he's a major minor.

Tennyson's latest work, pure whimsy.

It's whimsy, it's whi...whimsical.

It's... There is a poet,
James Thompson.

James Thompson?

Yes, James Thompson,
who in his latest work

is truly...breaking new ground.

The City of Dreadful Night?

You know it?

The world rolls round
for ever like a mill.

It grinds out life and death
and good and ill.

It has no purpose, heart, nor mind,

nor will.

These are dark notions
for a beautiful young woman
to take to heart.

My life can be dark sometimes.

Kindred spirits, like yourself,

are difficult to find.

Your lips are like feathers.

Shall they help you take flight?

Welcome to Mrs Castaway's, sir!

The use of the room
will cost you five shillings.

There can be good wine
waiting for an additional two

but what happens up there,
and for how long,

is for you and Sugar
to put a value to.

Here's ten shillings.

Send up some wine.

You're tired, Mr Hunt.

I haven't been sleeping.

I go to bed at night...

..and just lie awake.

Well...we shall have to take
good care of you.

Strong ale at the Fireside.

'He woke from
his dreamless drunkard's sleep...

'and found her poised
to cut his throat.'

Good morning, Mr Hunt.

Morning?

I've slept so long?
Well, you were very tired.

Yes, I was. I believe it's...

Miss Sugar, I have suffered
a most regrettable, most shameful
loss of control.

Throw off your wet things, Mr Hunt.

At once.

That is quite beyond...

I can't expect you...
Your things, please, now.

This really is...

Lie back, now.

All will soon be set to rights.

Poor baby.

Uhh! Uhhhh!

I have taken up an
unconscionable amount of your time.

Not at all.

You are a very
interesting man, George Hunt.

I shall look out for your books.

Er, Miss Sugar...

No Miss. Just Sugar.

My name is not, erm...

Please just call me William.

Forgive the deception,
but a man has a reputation to uphold.

And what's in a name? Indeed!

That's actually a line from...
Romeo And Juliet.

Also...you may struggle
to find my work in published form.

Writing is not my sole occupation.

Well, of course.

Why would a man with your
unquenchable curiosity,

your Renaissance grasp of the world
and its wonders,

limit himself to just one sphere?

Surely you would bring the same
originality of mind

and fixity of purpose to anything
you were about?

All turns to art in
the artist's hand.

Mrs Fox,

I must apologise again
for our last encounter.

You found my brother and I
at our absolute worst.

Oh, I doubt that.

And I perhaps owe you an apology.
I was much preoccupied that night.

Ah, I put your reserve
down to good manners.

I had that afternoon visited
a bawdy-house

to see a girl plainly not
long for this world.

Good L... That's not uncommon,
there's a trade in sick girls.

I once complained to a madam that one
of her employees could barely stand.

She told me standing was
not mandatory, that I looked

a bit peaky myself, and would I
like to lie down in the spare room.

A most sly and
licentious suggestion.

Do I look ill to you?

Not at all.

Better, Letty, much better.

Though you might
tidy yourself up a little.

Fixity of purpose.

I am going to get well.

Even if it kills me.

Agnes, dearest.

They've really pushed the boat out.
I hope you have an appetite.

What a happy coincidence it is
that you've come down today.

Coincidence?
I am ushering in a new regime.

Including a review of the staff.

The household is out of hand.

And it's not just today,
the rain makes the servants
skittish, of course.

I've observed this so often,
I mean to write a short piece
for Punch on the topic.

The fact is, servants look to
their mistress for guidance,

and a return to overseeing them
might be good for you, dear.

Can't...can't they just
sort it out among themselves?

I mean, isn't that what you
always used to talk about?

Socialism?

There is a difference between
socialism and the staff running amok.

I wonder if Henry will come after
church? I like him, don't you?

Henry lately seems to spend his
Sundays in the company of Mrs Fox.

Dr Curlew's sister, the widow?
You don't mean...

No!

God, no!

And Mrs Fox is far too preoccupied
with her beloved Rescue Society.

Mrs Fox rescues people?

Prostitutes, dear.

A pointless crusade, if you ask me.

It doesn't seem to have occurred to
her that many of these girls

enjoy their work.

Are you quite all right, Agnes?

Would you like...

Clara!

Letty, Janey! Mrs Rackham?

Mrs Rackham.

Clara, send for Dr Curlew at once.

No, no. No, Mr Rackham.

Do as I ask!

All turn to art in an artist's hands.

All very sudden, this
change of heart?

A revelation of
Damascan proportions, sir.

I am a new man.

And I'm expected to jig for joy
and slap a fat cheque on the desk,

is that it?
No, I wish to prove myself, father.

If I may?

I have brought my...

..unquenchable curiosity
to bear on the Rackham accounts.

Why, William.

What a pleasure to see
you again, and so soon.

I brought you something. Really?

Something I forgot
to give you last time.

You spoil me.

Oh, Mr Hunt!

Oh, Mr Hunt! Oh, Mr Hunt!

Oh, Mr Hunt!

Oh, Mr Hunt!

Oh, Mr Hunt!

My name is William Rackham!

Ahh...

I never thought I'd see the day.

You're too late.
Sugar don't wait for no-one.

Will you consider it?

Exclusive patronage of Sugar by me.

No.

What? These matters are complex.

We have a small house here.

If a third of what we
offer is unavailable,

where does that leave us?

Then there are other complications.

Such as? Our bond of
mutual regard with The Fireside.

Surely you, who are so
appreciative of Sugar's merits,

can see she is a draw there.

These are details.

It's the principle of the matter that
I'm concerned with. The principle?

Whether Sugar herself would agree?

Might she come down?

It is her future at stake, after all.

There is another thing
you haven't allowed for.

You don't consider the possibility
that Sugar might prefer -

forgive me - she might
prefer variety?

Well, we shall let her decide.

Why, Mr Hunt, what a pleasure.

Mr Hunt...

has a proposition for you, Sugar.

So I understand.

If I may.

What none of us understands is,

outside of your arrangement
with the house itself...

..what will you pay Sugar?

I will pay her
whatever makes her happy.

Well, Mr Hunt...

I am willing.

What time is it?

You don't need to take in
copy work any more,

or whatever it is you do
to get yourself in such a mess!

You know, Rackham's does
manufacture a product for dry skin.

But I'm a slave to
Atkinson's Bear's Grease. Oh!

Your life is going to be
very different from now on.

I hope some things remain the same.

Your men work on the Sabbath?

As do I!
Not enough hours in the day, Henry.

Did you know that there's an octave
in perfume as there is in music?

Anyway, how can I help?
Do you ever think of mother?

No.

You were very young when
she, erm...passed on.

Henry, she ran off with another man.

She abandoned us.

I am conscious, sometimes,
that we lacked

growing up any, erm...

Female society.

You know, of course, of Mrs Fox's
efforts in the, erm...

in the darkest recesses of the city?

Well, I thought that
her practical support

might be well-supplemented
by my more, doctrinal approach.

My problem, though, is this -

if I am to minister to, erm...

..fallen women...

..how shall I recognise them?

Yer 'ands any better?
This bear's grease is miraculous.

How's yer book?

You know, I taught myself to read.

I could teach you.

Don't need it.

Mind yer back!

My hand is yours for a shillin',
sir, and any other part for two.

Please, cover yourself up.

Your body parts are
not yours to sell.

They belong together, and
the whole belongs to God.

My 'ole belongs to anyone
that's got two shillings, sir.

Listen to me.

I want you to see these
two shillings as an act
that's no longer necessary.

It's in lieu, which is to say,

whatever you were about to do,

please, I beg you, don't.

"Please," he begged,
tugging at the silken bonds.

"Let me go. I am an important man!"

"So tell me, exalted sir,

"where is it your pleasure to
have this blade enter you?"

Sir.

You're late.

Hard at work, Mr Rackham?

And I brought you something.

A couple of my friends produced it,
it's called The Efficacy of Prayer.

"Bodley and Ashwell."

Oh, how perfectly childish.

Have they nothing better to do?

No, nothing.

Whereas you... Exactly!

How is the business? Splendid.

And your rivals?

Is the competition stiff?

Well, Pears and Yardley
are unassailable.

Rowland and Rimmel are
in good health.

Nisbett is ailing, perhaps fatally.

I'm sorry, is this terribly dull?

All this talk of business? Dull?

Who understands better than I the
connection between commerce and art?

On which subject, I've been thinking
about this Rackham's catalogue.

"Lavender foot balm.

"Are malodorous feet
your Achilles' heel?"

I know, I know.

It was written years ago.

Father's work. Hardly elegant.

So why not rewrite it?

It's early days.

I'm not sure Father's ready.

It's time for you to lead,
not follow.

Let's make the business
worthy of the Rackham name.

William Rackham, that is.

What would I do without you?

Mrs Rackham?

Oh, you're awake.

Yes. I mean to take breakfast
downstairs this morning, Clara.

Have you remembered
that Mr Rackham is away?

He has gone to Dundee.

So you'll take breakfast alone?

I think I shall find it
easier that way.

I feel so light this morning,
Clara, I can't tell you
what a relief it is!

After breakfast,
I shall work on my dresses.

The season is almost
upon us, after all.

Would you bring them for me?

Clara, with, erm...

..with the season so close,
there are certain, er...

skills I will need to re-master,
such as, erm...

..going outside, and, erm...

walking unsupported.

I was, I was thinking
we might try later.

If you feel up to it.

Perhaps after
Dr Curlew's been round?

But surely...

Surely he isn't coming today?

No, I'm...

I won't see him, Clara.

I simply won't.

Chepstow Villas.

I'm sorry you have come
all this way

because, unfortunately, for you,
I am quite well.

You're looking very pale to me.

That may be the face powder,
mayn't it?

Have I not cautioned you
against the use of cosmetics?

And did you not tell me that
you had disp...

Disposed of it, yes. So I did.
So it cannot be that.

But I am too tired to be examined.

Your tiredness may in itself
be a symptom of illness.

You examine me every week.

What harm can it do to leave
it undone just this once?

Only a madwoman would willingly
let her health decline...

I am not a madwoman!
Which is why I ask permission,

rather than obliging you as I would
an asylum inmate.

Clara? Should I stay?

No.

The pain lies entirely
in the resistance.

Little more.

Little more.

Good.

Thank you.

The dresses will be hard
to mend, don't you think?

I don't think we can
mend them.

I dream, you know, Clara.

Dream?

Of a place. Not...

Not a place with a physical
dimension, but one that does exist.

Full of nuns,

so gentle they might be angels.

I wish they'd send for me.

My God.

William Rackham.

You'll keep me
better than you do now.

Wait, wait!

My angel...

come at last.

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