All language subtitles for Alias.Grace.S01E03.Part.3.1080p.NF.WEBRip.DD5.1.x264-NTb

I want to speak to you about
an account I read of Grace at the asylum.

It paints her as a gibbering madwoman...

shrieking like a phantom...

and running around like a singed monkey.

Have you developed your own theories
regarding her sanity?

I have been proceeding
with the utmost caution.

Have you asked her
what she remembers?

She remembers her life
before arriving at Mr. Kinnear's

with a vividness
and mass of circumstantial detail

that indicates the problem is not
with her memory in general.

Are you acquainted with a family
called Parkinson in Toronto?

He died some years ago,
and the widow returned to her native land.

She was an American like yourself.
She found the winters too cold.

That is unfortunate.

Grace's first situation
was with the Parkinsons.

She had a friend, a fellow servant,
called Mary Whitney.

You may recall this was the false name
she gave when escaping.

In any case, this young woman died...

under abrupt circumstances.

When Grace was sitting
next to the body,

she said she heard
her dead friend speak to her.

Let me in!

An auditory hallucination,
of course.

It is not at all uncommon.

I myself have attended
a great many death beds,

and, especially among the sentimental...

it is counted a mark of dishonor
not to have heard the deceased speak.

If an angel choir is also audible,
so much the better.

This hallucination was followed
by an episode of fainting and hysterics,

mixed with what would appear
to have been somnambulism,

after which there was a prolonged sleep
and subsequent amnesia.

So she has a history of such lapses.

Let's not jump to conclusions.

She herself is at present
my only informant.

It would be most useful

to approach the time of the murders
with her now,

given that she is speaking
about her amnesia.

I must reiterate, my methods take time.

It is most crucial not to rush it.

I suppose
it's still the shock.

So kind of you to make dinner again.

You're so much more caring
than my husband ever was.

♪ Rock of ages ♪

♪ Cleft for me ♪

♪ Let me hide myself in thee ♪

♪ Let the water and the blood ♪

♪ From thy riven side which flowed ♪

♪ Be the sin the double cure ♪

♪ Cleanse me from its guilt and power ♪

I did not know you could
sing so well, Grace.

You have a... a beautiful voice.

Thank you, sir.

I used to have more occasion for it.

Grace, I noticed that the guards
were quite rough with you.

Does this happen often?

Yes, sir.

They prod and poke at me.

They say filthy things
and I can't get free of them.

That is unjust.

I will speak to the governor about it.

I wonder what has been causing
your loss of sleep.

What makes you say that, Grace?

You have dark circles under your eyes.
You haven't slept a wink.

Well, I slept well.
Thank you for your concern.

Oh, a parsnip.

Not one I would have selected.
Has an orange tint, which means it's old.

-Does it remind you of anything?
-There's "Fine words butter no parsnips."

-It's also very hard to peel.
-They're kept in cellars.

Oh, no, sir.
Outside in a hole in the ground.

They are much improved
by being frozen.

Shall I continue where we left off?

I've forgotten just where that was, sir.

The death of Mary,
your poor friend Mary Whitney.

Ah, yes. Mary.

She was buried in my best nightdress.

And she didn't look dead in the least,
but only very pale.

And all laid out in white like that,
she looked just like a bride.

In sure and certain hope

of the resurrection to eternal life
through our Lord Jesus Christ,

we commend to almighty God
our sister Mary

and we commit her body to the ground.

Earth to earth, ashes to ashes,
dust to dust.

The Lord lift up his countenance
upon her and give her peace.

-Amen.
-Amen.

She was put with the Methodists
on Adelaide Street,

off in the corner
right next to the paupers,

but still within the churchyard, so I felt
I had done all for her that I could.

I saw death in Mary's eyes,
but then hindsight is always accurate.

I will pray for her.

It was hard for me to believe
that Mary was truly dead.

Grace, come. Have a seat.

Come, come.

Grace...

-Do you know the man?
-Ma'am?

The man...

Mary.

I do not.

I'm going to ask you
to swear on the Bible

that, even if you do know,
you will never divulge it.

And if you can swear that,
on the Bible,

I will make sure that your wages
are increased immediately...

and that if you should choose
to leave the house,

I will give you a good reference
for future employment.

I never had fault to find
with your work, Grace.

Mr. George Parkinson
did not seem in any hurry

to get back to the United States
and his education.

Excuse me, Mother.

- Grace.

So sorry about your friend, Mary.
I know you were very dear to her.

George.

Grace, please be more careful.

Grace, open the door.

Grace, it's George. Let me in.

Grace, let me in.

Open the door.

Lock or no lock, sooner or later,
he'd find a way of getting in.

Once you're found with a man, you are
the guilty one, no matter how they get in.

As Mary used to say, some masters think
you owe them service 24 hours a day

and should do the main work
flat on your back.

As I've said, sir, she had
a very forward way of speaking.

Oh, Nancy, this is Grace.
Nancy's an old friend.

-She's visiting from Richmond Hill.
-Lovely to meet you, Grace.

I must be going.

I need to get to the dry goods auction
before Clarkson's store closes.

Will you look at the pretty muslin
I got last time.

Now, what would a housekeeper be wanting
with a dress like that, Nancy?

You always had such fine tastes.

Do you have a long road to Richmond Hill?

No, I did not take the coach into town.
My master drove me in.

Do you know where Richmond Hill is?

Up Yonge Street past Hogg's Hollow?

I'm in want of another servant
to help me with the work.

Mr. Kinnear, my master, is a gentleman
of a fine Scottish family.

He's not married, so there's no mistress
of the household to carp and criticize.

Would you be interested in the position?

I'm lonely for female company
and I don't like being

a single woman alone with a gentleman,
as people will talk.

Oh, I'm not sure.

Mr. Kinnear is a liberal master
and he shows it when he's pleased.

You'll be making a good bargain
and stepping up in the world.

What are your wages at present?

-Two dollars a month.
-I will pay you three dollars a month.

Well, that is more than fair.

Wonderful.

Here's some money for you to take
the coach to Richmond Hill tomorrow.

- I myself will meet you by the inn.
- Grace.

I'm sorry to steal your best help, Sally.

You just said such glowing things
about my new girl.

Little did I know you'd be
taking her from us.

I'm not sure it is a suitable position
for a young girl like you.

Why not?

Nancy has always been kind to me
and I don't like to talk.

A person has to take her own chances
and the least said, the soonest mended.

I don't know anything for certain
so it would not be right to say more.

But I do feel I have done my duty
in saying as much as I have

because you have
no mother to advise you.

I didn't have the least idea
what she was talking about.

Have you heard any harm spoken
of Mr. Kinnear?

Nothing the world at large
would call harm.

It was like a puzzle I could not guess

and it would have been better for all
if she had spoken more plainly.

But the pay was higher than anything I'd
had before, which weighed heavily on me,

along with my need to get away
from Mr. George Parkinson.

And what weighed even more heavily
on me was Nancy Montgomery herself.

She resembled Mary Whitney,
or so I then thought.

And I'd been depressed in spirits
ever since Mary's death.

And so I decided to go.

The journey up Yonge Street
to Richmond Hill

was more uncomfortable than I expected.

-Never look behind you.
-Why not?

Because the past is the past
and regret is vain.

Let bygones be bygones.
You know what became of Lot's wife.

Turned to a pillar of salt.
A waste of a good woman.

Not that they aren't all the better
for a pinch of salt.

See that there? Montgomery's Tavern.

That's where Mackenzie and his band
of ragtags held their seditious meetings

and set out to march down Yonge Street
during the rebellion.

William Lyon Mackenzie?

One of them was shot in front of it,
trying to warn the government troops.

They burnt it down afterwards.

Some traitors were hung, but not enough.

That cowardly rascal Mackenzie should be
dragged back from the States.

He ran off, leaving his friends to swing
at the rope's end for him.

I could tell by the smell of his breath
it was just as well not to provoke him.

And so I said nothing.

William Lyon Mackenzie was a hero to Mary.
It was hard to say nothing.

-Where are you staying?
-What you don't know won't hurt you.

Why don't you come in
for a glass of whisky for old times' sake?

-Would your name be Grace Marks?
-Yes.

-Is this man a friend of yours?
-No.

-The lady does not desire your company.
-She is no lady, she's a whore.

I am Thomas Kinnear, your new employer.
I've come to fetch you.

You've not been in town five minutes

and you've managed
to attract gentlemen admirers.

-They are not.
-Not gentlemen or not admirers?

This is Charley.

So, up you go, Grace.

Do you mean me to sit in front?

We can hardly have you riding in the back
like a piece of luggage.

I was not used to sitting beside
a gentleman like him,

but he didn't seem to give it
a second thought.

And there we were,
driving up Yonge Street,

just as if I was a fine lady.

What did Mr. Kinnear look like?

He had a gentlemanly bearing, sir.

Is that all?
You did not observe him very particularly.

I did not wish to gape at him, sir,

and I needed to turn my head
because of my bonnet.

I suppose you've never worn a bonnet, sir.

No, I have not.

I expect it is confining.

It is that, sir.

Hello, Jamie. This is Grace Marks.

Come from Toronto.
I found her at the inn.

Jamie lives nearby and helps us
around the farm from time to time.

Hello.

Is it big, Toronto? Is it very grand?
I've never been there.

Grand enough.

I could not find it in me to answer
properly about Toronto,

because right then I was bitterly sorry
I'd ever left it.

I heard her laughing.
She had not given me one word of greeting.

McDermott. Take Grace's things
to her room.

Something squeezed tight about my heart.

When I close my eyes...

I can remember every detail of that house
as clear as a picture.

I could walk through every room of it
blindfolded.

Strange to reflect...

that, of all the people
living in that house,

I was the only one of them left alive
in six months' time.

Though at that moment I had no feeling
about it and only wanted a drink of water.

Eventually Nancy gave me
a proper tour of the house.

There's no separate laundry room,
but the things for washing,

the coppers, the washtub
and the scrubbing board,

are present in the summer kitchen.

We don't keep a pig.
They're too clever for their own good.

Mr. Kinnear's old dog Fancy died.

I'd feel easier with a dog about the place
to bark at strangers.

There's a trap door under here
to the cellar.

I thought it was an odd place

as the kitchen would have been
more convenient,

but the kitchen
didn't have a cellar under it.

Go on, Grace.

Of course.

The cellar stairs were
too steep for comfort,

and the cellar was divided
into two parts by a half-wall,

the dairy on one side,
where they kept the butter and cheeses,

and on the other side, the place
where they stored the wine and the beer

and apples and the cabbages
and beets and potatoes--

-Yes, Grace, but...
-Yes, sir?

I understand what is stored in a cellar.

Of course.

There's a window down there, but you
should always take a candle or a lantern.

It's dark below and you could trip and
fall down the stairs and break your neck.

We did not go down into the cellar
at that time.

Nancy, who was now all smiles,
showed me to my room.

She had on a very handsome pair
of earrings,

which I could tell were real gold,
and I wondered how she could afford them

on the salary of a housekeeper.

I could see there was no love lost
between McDermott and Nancy.

He's more surly than ever.

He can suit himself and welcome.

It's a smile or the open road for him,
or more likely the bottom of a ditch.

I am very glad to see you, Grace.

You must be very tired after your journey,
it's very fatiguing.

Why don't you rest
and start work in the morning?

I liked being early to rise.

That way, I could pretend for a little
while that the house was all my own.

Mind your manners or I'll wring your neck.

Would that be me you're addressing?

No, it would not.

I could tell what he had in mind,
and it was not original.

I did think it unusual for a housekeeper
to be learning the piano.

But of course I said nothing.

And then everything went on very quietly
for a fortnight.

-Yes, sir. More or less quietly.
-What is "everything"? How did it go on?

-I beg your pardon, sir?
-What did you do every day?

The usual, sir. I performed my duties.

You will forgive me.
Of what did those duties consist?

You were not making a joke.

You really don't know.

Men such as yourself do not have
to clean up the messes you make,

but we have to clean up our own messes
and yours into the bargain.

In that way, you are like children.

You do not have to think ahead or worry
about the consequences of what you do.

But it is not your fault.
It is only how you are brought up.

And then?

Then I collected the slop pails
and rinsed them out.

With a pump, you have to pour some in
before you get any out.

Mary Whitney said that was how men
viewed the flattering of a woman

when they had low ends in view.

Mary Whitney was not proper,
but she was honest.

So that's how you rinse out a slop pail.

Well, of course I went to the privy first
to empty it.

I went to the privy and emptied
the slop pail, and so forth.

And so forth?

"Really, Doctor," I thought,

"if you didn't know what you do in
a privy, there really is no hope for you.

What I did was, I hoisted my skirts
and sat down above the buzzing flies,

on the same seat everyone in the house
sat on, lady or lady's maid.

They both piss and it smells the same,
and not like lilacs neither,

as Mary Whitney used to say.

Some of the pictures were of duchesses
from England and high-society ladies

in New York and the like.

Never let your picture be in a magazine
or newspaper if you can help it,

as you never know what ends

your face may be made to serve by others
once it has got out of your control."

But I did not say any of this to you,
Dr. Jordan.

And so forth.

"And so forth" is all you are entitled to,
I thought.

Just because you pestered me
to know everything

was no reason for me to tell you.

Good morning.

-Good morning.
-Is the tea made?

Yes.

I'm scarcely alive in the morning
until I've had my cup of tea.

Mr. Kinnear will take his upstairs.

He'll want a second cup
when he comes down.

I will take it up.

At Mrs. Parkinson's, the housekeeper
would never carry the...

It was beneath her position
and a job for the maids.

Of course.
I only took it up when short of help.

I've got into the habit of it lately.
Go ahead.

Your tea, sir.

Yes. Bring it in.

Thank you, Grace.

There's beautiful eggs this morning, sir.
Would you want one for your breakfast?

Yes. Thank you, Grace.
I'm sure it will do me good.

Mr. Kinnear wants an egg
for his breakfast.

I will have one also.

He will have his fried, with bacon,
and mine should be boiled.

We will have breakfast together
in the dining room.

He requires me to keep him company.

He does not like to eat alone.

-Is Mr. Kinnear ill at all?
-No. He just likes to be fussed over.

I wonder why he never married,
a fine man like him.

Some gentlemen do not have
an inclination for the married state.

They are very pleased with themselves
and think they can get along without it.

-I suppose they can at that.
-Certainly they can, if rich enough.

If they want a thing, they pay for it.
It's all one to them.

-His nightshirt needs to be aired out.
-Yes, I was just about to.

And his dressing things
are not to be laid out like this.

This is how he likes them.

And you'll need to polish
the silver backs every week.

At Mrs. Parkinson's
we did it every three days.

I don't care, as you are not
at Mrs. Parkinson's.

His folded shirts ready for wearing
go on this shelf.

What is this picture of?

It's Susannah and the Elders,
which is a Bible subject.

I know my Bible backwards
and forwards and this is not in it.

-Yes, it is.
-It is not.

You're not here to argue about paintings
but to clean the room.

Are you two discussing theology,
and so early in the morning too?

It is nothing to be bothered by.

I should like to know
what you were discussing.

It does not matter.

Well, Grace, I can see Nancy wishes
to keep it a secret from me,

but you must tell me.

I...

I was wondering if this picture is
of a biblical subject as Nancy says.

No. No. Strictly speaking it is not.

-The story is in the Apocrypha.
-What might that be?

You are very curious
for such a young person.

Soon I will have the most learned
maidservant in all Richmond Hill.

I'll have to put on a display,
like the mathematical pig in Toronto.

The Apocrypha is a book where they put
all the stories from biblical times

they decided should not go in the Bible.

Who decided?
I thought the Bible was written by God.

It's called "the word of God"
and everyone terms it so.

Perhaps God wrote it, but men wrote it
down, which is a little different.

But those men were said to have been
inspired by God,

which means He spoke to them,
told them what to do.

Did they hear voices?

Aye.

I was glad to hear that someone else
heard voices too,

though I didn't say that.

In any case, the voice I had heard
that one time had not been God's,

but Mary Whitney's.

-Do you know the story of Susannah?
-No.

She was a young lady who was falsely
accused of sinning with a young man,

by a group of old men, because she refused
to commit the very same sin with them.

She would have been stoned to death,
but luckily she had a very clever lawyer

and he was able to prove
that the old men were lying

by inducing them to give
contradictory evidence.

What do you think the moral is?

That you should not take baths outside
in the garden.

I think the moral is
you need a clever lawyer.

This girl is no simpleton after all.

Ooh, I found a shirt cleaned
and put away with a button missing.

It's very aggravating
to put on a clean shirt,

only to discover you cannot do it up
properly because of a lack of buttons.

Please mind that does not happen again.

You did not clean my shoes
properly this morning.

Watch yourself.

Grace. You look tired.

Sit down with me and have a cup of tea.

I cannot risk waiting on laundry.

This time of year, there could be
a quick change in weather.

All right.

When you have it all hung up,
let's have a cup of tea then.

There is a great pleasure
to be had

in a wash all clean and blowing
in the wind.

The sound is like the hands
of the Heavenly Hosts applauding,

though heard from far away.

And they do say that cleanliness
is next to Godliness.

And sometimes, when I have seen the pure
white clouds billowing in the sky

after a rain, I used to think
the angels themselves

were hanging out their washing,

for I reasoned that someone must do it,

as everything in Heaven
must be very clean and fresh.

But these were childish fancies, as
children like to tell themselves stories

about things that are not visible.

And I was scarcely more than a child
at the time...

though I thought of myself
as a grown woman.

Excuse me. Excuse me, Grace.

-Yes, hello, Jamie.
-Are there any errands to be run?

I'll have to ask Nancy.

If I'm sent into the village and there's
anything you want, I'd fetch it for you.

Thank you, Jamie.

Jamie. Come inside
and I'll tell you what we need.

And you must come back later
and bring your flute.

He plays so beautifully,
it's a pleasure to hear.

Do you enjoy dancing?

Why do you ask?

I saw you dancing.
You are a good dancer.

Maybe I am and maybe I'm not.

Tell me about your life
before you came to work here.

-Who would care about that?
-I would.

All such stories are of interest to me.

Me myself I've always been a scapegrace.
Never one to lick the boots of the rich.

-Do you have a mother living?
-Whether I do or don't, it's all the same.

She had a bad opinion of me,
told me I was going to the Devil.

She could be dead for all I care.

Deserted the army and stowed away
on a ship bound for America.

When I got to this country, I enlisted as
a soldier in the Glengarry Light Infantry.

Didn't they have a bad reputation?
My friend told me.

Didn't they burn down farmhouses
during the rebellion,

turn women and children out into the snow?

Yeah, and they've done far worse besides.

Some things they don't print
in the papers.

Then the rebellion ended
and the regiment was disbanded

and I heard about this position.

I thought I would be working
for the gentleman himself, but not so.

A woman is set over me instead.

One who never gives me a moment's rest
from her tongue.

Do you have a sweetheart?

A pretty girl like you
might be expected to have one.

I do not, and I do not have
any inclinations that way.

That is a pity, but there's a first time
for everything.

You need breaking in like a colt
and you'll go as good as the rest.

I'm the man for the job.

I'll thank you to keep such
offensive remarks to yourself.

I am not a mare.

I didn't mean it.

It's all in fun; just wanted to see
what sort of girl you might be.

What sort I'd be is no business of yours.

Remain where you are.

I would rather have good butter
than a curtsy.

Always busy I see, Grace.

Yes, sir.
The Devil finds work for idle hands to do.

I trust you do not mean me.
My hands are idle enough,

but not nearly devilish enough
for my liking.

Oh, no, sir, I did not mean you.

It's very becoming
for a young woman to blush.

How is the butter
coming along, Grace?

-Where is Mr. Kinnear going?
-To Colonel Bridgeford's.

His wife is away so he can visit safely.
When she's home, he's not well received.

-Why not?
-She considers him a bad influence.

- Why? What has he done?
- Well, he was packed off to the colonies

-to get him out of the way.
-Why?

The usual reasons, I suspect.
Debt or women.

There. The butter's coming.

I don't like it down here.

It always smells of earth
and mice and old vegetables.

I suppose most cellars do.

Perhaps it could be given
a good airing out someday.

What on earth is he doing?

He just does that sometimes.

He says it's for exercise,
but he just wants to be admired.

You should not pay any attention.

So there I was pretending
not to watch, and there he was,

pretending not to be watched,
as women and men often do,

and he was the sort of man you knew you
shouldn't look at, but you looked anyway.

Jamie! You brought your flute!
Grace, fetch Jamie a mug of beer.

I'll have one too.

I didn't know you had monkey blood.
You was leaping like one.

When the cat's away, the mice do play.
Nancy always likes her little parties.

I'm sure the Walsh boy will be screeching
his tin whistle soon.

That is right, and I will give myself
the pleasure of hearing it.

-To my mind, that's no pleasure.
-You can suit yourself then.

I didn't mean to offend you before.

I've been so long around rough men
whose manners are not the best.

I'm inclined to forget myself.

I don't know how to speak.

Forgive me and we can be friends.

Is forgiveness not ordained in the Bible?

And there we were, in a kind of harmony.

And the evening was so beautiful,
it made a pain in my heart,

as when you cannot tell
whether you're happy or sad.

And I thought that if I could have a wish,
it would be that nothing would ever change

and we would stay that way forever.

But the sun cannot be stopped in its path,
except by God,

and he has done that only once

and will not do it again until the end
of the world.

I thought, if I could have two fireflies
on my ears for earrings...

I should be going home.
My father will be looking for me.

...I would not care
about Nancy's gold ones.

Grace, make sure you lock
all the doors and windows.

And will you sleep with me tonight?

I'm afraid when Kinnear is not home.

♪ Come all you fair ♪

♪ And tender girls ♪

♪ That flourish in your prime ♪

♪ Prime ♪

♪ Beware, beware ♪

♪ If you're good and fair ♪

♪ Let no man steal your time ♪

♪ Time ♪

♪ Let no man steal ♪

♪ Your time ♪