All language subtitles for Ripper.Street.S03E07.1080p.BluRay.x264-CREATiVE24

You shot him, Mr. Reid.

The, uh, bearer bonds...

- What of them?
- Where are they?

'Tis, um... a mystery.

Why are you bringing this to me?

Have you really forgot what
the name Theodore Patrick Swift,

your father-in-law, means?

You think, what, Susan
was involved in this?

Does this buy back a life?

I fear for us.

I fear we shall lose each other again.

You saved me.

You're not supposed to
start until tomorrow.

I want to know if I can see it,

see the evil that has
come to roost in you.

Well? Do you have it?

It has made me grievous ill, sir.

That is only to be expected.

Mm.

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_

What awful poison has he given ya?

I beg you, no more of this.

You must to work.

I can't. I won't leave you.

We must carry on as always.

You go to work, as always.

You have your tea, and your smoke,

and you play a hand, as always.

Still you will not tell me?

What bastard had his way with ya?

I will not.

There is too much to lose.

_

Mr. Havelock! Tait's arrived!

Oi. Oi! What the bloody
hell time you call this, eh?

You clock off Saturday,
half the afternoon gone,

now you come in an hour late.

And I've got the governor
in asking why we're behind.

Mary's been ill.

I didn't like to leave her.

You will make up that time.

Mary! Mary!

No.

No. No. No, you must away.

He must not find you
here. He told you! No!

He told you, no.

But I went against him,

after all he's given me. So much care.

And I have brought all
this trouble to his door.

If he should be discovered,
the fault is mine.

Discovered? Discovered how?

You must away.

There must be no more grief,

- lest he be found out.
- I don't understand. What do you mean?

And so I will have ended
it all, all he has built,

This happiness found at last.

A Mr. Currie, chemist...

no longer available to dispense medicine.

It is too soon. You have
not yet recovered, sir.

I am not yet in need
of a chair, nor a nurse.

Oh, indeed? You are perfectly well?

A man lately shot in
the head... of course.

Why on earth you've come back to
this rough old game, I do not know.

You have made your point, Bennet.

Then let us get back to this game.

I will not ask why it is in your
pocket and not yet on her finger.

How?

This, then?

A robbery?

But what's there to rob here?

What chemist leaves a bottle unmarked?

One who is sure of its contents.

This is the last.

Pushed deep, hard,

with fingers... jammed in with... forced.

Made to eat his own money,
then... to choke upon it.

No, that's not what killed him.

One blow to the head
did that for him first.

Heavy weapon, crude, but effective.

This... have you determined its contents?

Pretty potion it is.

Pennyroyal, Spanish fly.

Brings on miscarriage.

So our man here was an abortionist.

But these are home remedies,

two a penny... nothing to kill for.

This is where it gets strange.

This compound of Currie's...
heavy presence of lead.

Brings on damage to the brain,
nerves, abdominal trauma.

This poisoning could be fatal?

Worst case, coma and death.

So, some boy got his girl in trouble,

they saw an end to it,
she got poisoned violently,

mortally even, by this chemist,

who, insult to injury,
charged them for it.

And so he kills the
callous son of a bitch,

takes those notes, every one he
paid, and rams them down his throat.

We must find this girl,
whatsoever her fate.

With her, her lad.

The chemist's book, sir.
There's an apprentice was paid.

He will have gone to
ground. You find him.

Drake, check the morgues
for any more victims.

I shall go to the Obsidian Clinic.

If she has survived, no doubt
she would have ended up there.

Double vision?

- Headaches?
- No.

Yes. Yes, on occasion.

Um, we seek the murderer of a chemist.

Are they severe, the headaches?

Some, one or two, yes.

Uh, this chemist we believe
a practitioner of abortion,

And you, I imagine, would have
cause to treat such a man's clients.

Push against me.

You grow stronger.

Then may I be a policeman for a moment?

No. I do not treat them.

I repair them.

I patch them up.

I apply a piecemeal dressing
to an ever-growing wound,

And the wound itself never heals.

These women come to me for help,

And like any doctor in this city,

I could end their
troubles safely, easily.

But it is illegal,

So I must turn them away
to be mangled and shredded

by these quacks of the
backstreets and side alleys.

And then they come to me after...

and I must make good the wretched work.

And then they come to me again...

pregnant again...

and I can neither treat
them, nor teach them, for to

speak of contraception is
obscene in the eyes of the law.

Forgive me, Inspector,

I am maddened by it.

These particular women,

this chemist's clients,
they were given lead.

Indeed.

I've had four cases of lead poisoning.

I knew nothing of it, then I
read of a case in Sheffield,

A spate of miscarriages,

and lead found in the
water supply the cause.

The women there took to using it,

for lead is easy to procure.

Near death, all four of my patients,

all damaged beyond repair,

for they also suffered
physical procedures,

so many times...

"Procedures," by which
you mean precisely...?

The use of instruments
in internal intervention.

So this chemist, he uses
both instrument and powder?

Yes. This is something beyond.

These women...

would you give me their names, please?

They do not tell me their true names.

They come here on promise of secrecy.

We ask no questions,
else they would not come,

And then there would be
no hope for them at all.

I come to hear your answer.

My answer is yes.

I knew you would not disappoint me.

My favourite pupil... your
courage always delighted me.

I speak only for myself.

My patron, Miss Hart, must be persuaded.

Then we shall discuss how.

Your tough boy put you
out on the street, Rosie?

What did you do, girl?

I've arrived. My bag's unpacked.

What is it you seek?

Papers, tenements,
construction agreement.

You're running.

This room makes me ill.

I believe the contractors take advantage

now Capshaw is gone.

They see me defenceless
and choose their moment.

They mean to take control
of the tenement expansion.

But what can you do?

I did not endure that devil
man to be brought to naught.

I shall master this work.

I shall make a study of
this world, its workings all.

For fangs, I may have
none, but I have a mind,

and it is sharper, its edge
keener, than any tooth, any blade.

First, I must find
the original agreement.

Leave now, lest George
comes back and finds ya.

If he should be discovered...

I am afraid, Edward.

I am afraid.

I don't care what you
and Tait are hiding.

You must have a doctor,
else you will die.

You are apprentice to the
murdered chemist, Currie.

Who would have cause to kill this man?

I don't know anything, sir.

I mind the shop is all.

Two in the morgue, lead poisoning,

unidentified as yet.

Mr. Currie, then, guilty of murder.

I don't know anything, sir!

Chalk dust, cut with lead for
the purposes of miscarriage.

Now, boy, you will tell me what you know.

I mind the shop, sir! That is all.

The women would come, and Mr. Currie would
send them on. I never knew their names.

Mr. Currie would send them
on for their procedures.

Who carried out these acts?!

I don't know, sir. I was
never told such things.

These men, boy, mutilated these women.

They poisoned them.

Some they killed, and some there may
yet be whose lives hang in the balance.

Now you will tell me who these men are.

One is dead, but others remain,

and if one more girl dies in their care,

You are to blame!

I don't know, sir. I
swear, I was not told.

I swear, sir, on my mother's life!

I cannot say what I do not know!

Only the address!

- Yes!
- The address!

Sutherland Buildings, Number 4! Number 4!

Now, then.

One may cut chalk dust with anything...

Sugar, even.

I'd expected this backstreet
to hold a back room.

This is a surgery.

Interesting.

Why have they blacked out the labels?

Multiple visits, multiple
payments, guaranteed profit.

That was my thinking. But
money has been spent here.

Why? To what end?

What backstreet amateur
intent on filling his purse

cares to create such a place?

This is no amateur concern.

This is a... facility.

Why use lead... crude,
violent application...

when you have this?

So a lot of business was done here.

Business that Mr.
Currie was murdered for.

He might have discovered
it, threatened to expose it.

Or was he a liability?

And each of these women
made repeated visits.

They've given their names
here. They trusted these men.

And here...

Their hard-spent coin.

200 guineas, at least there.

A strongbox.

They leave their money in this bag.

Begs a question, does it not?

What, then, do they keep in their safe?

Miss Hart, my mentor, Dr. Rolle.

Madam, you are generous with your time.

I'm under no illusion as
to the demand upon you.

Hm.

I am listening.

Miss Hart,

Dr. Rolle, he is a member
of the Malthusian League.

I'm not aware of it.

It is an organisation devoted
to the education of women

in the matter of contraception.

There is a clinic in Holland
where we offer such advice.

The Dutch, they are much
advanced in this field.

I would give my women
the information they need,

but I would give them more.

I would give them the
help they beg for...

safe procedure.

You mean to offer abortion at the clinic.

Absolutely not.

It is illegal.

The law is an ass.

Recognise, of course,
that there are dangers.

We believe the risk worth taking.

And there we part company, sir.

The demands upon me, as
you put it, are legitimate.

They must be, for I am a
woman in a man's business.

And there is no slack to
the rope that they allow me.

I'm sorry you have had a wasted journey.

Forgive my impudence.

You do not know the man you refuse.

He has, from the first, encouraged me,

My medical education
fraught with prejudice.

Well, I applaud it,

but my answer remains the same.

Jackson, this strongbox...

its contents are a primary concern.

Thomas Yale, single dial,
simple, elegant. Beautiful.

Enough appreciation. Can you crack it?

No.

It's a highly complex procedure.

Well, the Pinkerton, it
seems, is no Peterman.

If I could crack safes the
way you crack walnuts...

with your bare skull, I'd be
riding The Oriental First Class

- to Yokohama right now.
- In short, you cannot gain access

- to this strongbox?
- I didn't say that...

Not when there's gunpowder.

Jackson, you will not damage
the contents of this safe.

You will keep them
pristine. They are key.

Did I say gelignite?
No, I said gunpowder.

Have a little faith.

Be quick at it, then. And
these, these bottles...

What do they contain that
their contents must be hidden?

You have your work cut out, Captain.

Well, it's just as well
I'm out of bourbon, then.

I have something for you
in return, nonetheless.

The strike that killed
the chemist went deep,

and the brain matter's been burnt.

It's a chemical burn caused
by a strong caustic alkali.

The shop was full of chemicals.

No, these are elements
chemists don't deal in.

There's calcium silicate,
calcium sulphate.

It suggests to me, uh,
uh, Portland cement.

Mortar?

The weapon was a tool... a builder.

Sergeant, construction sites.

Yes, sir.

We were called to a disturbance
at a site not long since.

Obsidian Tenements.

Here. Affray.

Mr. Edwin Havelock, accused of
assault, but charges were not brought.

Where is the ledger from the

- Sutherland Buildings?
- Mm-hmm.

Sergeant, Duncan...

Havelock. Mrs. Mary Havelock.

What is affray?

Thilda? Where's Mrs. Forbes?

You are alone?

Well, I-I'm escaped.

You do not go about alone.

You do not wander the
streets unprotected.

Drake, will you go to Obsidian
Tenement to question Mrs. Havelock?

I have business of my own to be answered.

- Yes, sir.
- Come here.

Take this note to Miss Cobden
and bring her back with you.

Bennet!

I wish to inform you of my new address,

for I've left the Morton house.

Miss Susan's taken me in.

I'm now a resident at Obsidian,
should you need... wish to send for me.

You lodge with Miss Hart?
I cannot be glad at that.

She is my friend.

She's friend only to herself
and her own interests.

She has ever been good to me,

- and you've no call to speak as though...
- I would not have you living there.

I must to work. A man has been murdered.

Please, Rose, trust me in this.

I think only of your happiness.

I shall send to you later.
Let us walk out together.

I am police. Inspector Drake.

I seek a Mr. Edwin Havelock.

We fear for his wife, Mary.

He's not married.

You are?

George Tait, sir.

Don't know where he is.
He's been gone all day.

This Mary, then... you know her?

She's his girl?

I do not know his affairs, sir.

You see him,

You tell Mr. Havelock
we're looking for him.

Hello, Mathilda.

Edmund, how is it she is here?

She will not abide Mrs.
Forbes, our governess.

She has escaped her, come
here of her own volition,

unchaperoned, through these streets.

She will, I think, willingly
stay with you again,

if you will watch her for me.

You may always depend upon me, Edmund.

Only do not, I beg of you, presume.

I do not know what else to do.

Whom else should I ask?

You must ask yourself.

Why is it she escapes her governess?

Why come here? Why find you?

It is because she must be near you,

her daddy.

And you must always be with
the dead of Whitechapel.

I cannot imagine what it is
that keeps you here, Edmund,

but you must discard this notion,

however flattering to yourself,

that the souls of this ward
all depend upon your protection.

In truth, there is only one.

Her needs are your only concern.

Her happiness,

her health, her schooling.

Look to it, Edmund.

Mary! Mary!

Shall I die?

Only... I feel peril is close...

and I can't leave George.

Father and mother he's been to me.

You will not die. I've made sure of it.

But there is grief for you.

I shall never have a child more, shall I?

Who were these men?

Who is this doctor who hurt
you? Will you not name him?

Are you the man who's
brought her to this pass?

Mary! Mary Tait! My daughter!

You.

Oh, no... but you had to have her...

George!

No!

You have her then, did
ya?! Show her you did!

You're the man!

Shut your mouth! Both
of you will be quiet!

Sir, a young lady, brought
in, in much distress,

Lead poisoning, haemorrhaging.

This man, a Mr. George
Tait... I've met him before.

Her father, it seems.

Assaults this, a Mr. Edwin Havelock,

Him having seduced the young lady

and brought her to this trouble.

She is too ill to be moved.

Dr. Frayn forbids questioning.

Her life in peril.

Mr. Havelock, we've been looking for you.

Mr. Glynn! Mr. Glynn!
You will explain yourself.

You have trebled your terms.

These dwellings, Mr. Glynn, are intended
for the working poor of our parish,

and you would turn a
profit at their expense.

These sums are extortion.
They are not as agreed.

Nothing was agreed,

for poor Mr. Capshaw,
your sulphurous solicitor,

met his well-deserved fate
long before ink had met paper.

You shook hands on the deal
yourself with Mr. Capshaw.

It was a gentlemen's agreement.

Or are you not a gentleman?

Or does a gentleman take his advantage?

No, I think not.

If I must explain to you, madam,

that it is the very nature of business

to take one's advantage,

then my convictions as
to the fitness of ladies

for the pursuit of commercial
affairs remain unshaken.

I'm afraid, madam, that a contract
unsigned is not a contract.

Find yourself another Capshaw
and desist from this dabbling

in men's work.

No, Mr. Glynn. I shall find no other.

I shall be my own Mr. Capshaw.

And when you meet me next,

you will wish for that
smooth assassin back,

for he will seem a lamb.

Mr. Edwin Havelock, Mary
Tait, pregnant by you,

sought a termination
from the chemist, Currie,

and suffered grievously for it.

The man, Currie, now dead, at your
hand in revenge for her suffering.

What? No.

No, I haven't killed anyone.

Your quarrel with Mr. Tait...
what is the nature of it?

He refused me! He refused me Mary.

I-I asked permission to
court her, and he denied me.

And court her you did and more. You seduced
her and began this whole sorry tale.

I saved her life.

I found her in her own
home, his own, mind,

with the blood running out of her.

But she won't have a doctor.

"No," she says, "or
all will be discovered."

That's her words. So you ask him, right.

You ask him why his precious girl

would rather die than give him away.

Your Bennet, you sought him out?

Do you wonder still at his intentions?

I have no doubt, he
means to make me his wife.

This is a sad smile, indeed.

Mm.

But of course,

as song bird of Blewett's,
she shall sing no more.

She shall be in her
nest, feeding her chicks.

And can a woman not be
a mother and a singer?

I think that must depend on the husband.

Sometimes, I'm more complicated
to think on than the old life.

Mm.

I confess there are times
when I would gladly give up

this grand palace and go back
to the old rotten cathouse.

Mmm!

And enjoy the attentions
of Mr. Fitzroy, Mr. Lloyd?

Those... salty, groping wretches,

so full of their own importance?

All their business, all their dealings.

I... I couldn't understand
a word half the time.

Mr. Nathaniel Glynn.

Do you remember him?

How could I forget?

Which girl did he favour? Remind me.

Lily.

And poor Lily... he favours her still.

The weight of the machine will,

at the same moment,
release the door, I believe.

Did we not pay for that
machine at great expense?

We did, sir.

Horrible clackety racket
of a thing... never use it.

You are sure, Captain Jackson,

This operation will not
destroy the safe, its contents,

this room, and half my station house?

I'm not sure.

Jackson, you will master this paperwork.

- What am I your secretary now?
- You are my medic, are you not?

And this, I believe, is medical work.

Jackson.

Jackson, you will not leave
this room until you have

conned the meaning of these papers.

Be quick at it. For there are two lines
of inquiry that now separate before us.

The quarrel between Edwin Havelock
and George Tait, over the girl Mary,

the victim of Mr. Currie. How their
dispute touches upon his murder is unclear.

But this... this medical facility.

God only knows what
villainy is made there.

We're moving the prisoner now, sir!

Mr. George Tait, sir.

Mary Tait he describes as
his daughter, born 1875.

There's no birth certificate
for a Mary Tait of Whitechapel,

No record of her, nor of him, the father.

Might he have adopted her?

There's no evidence of that,
sir, no legal account of it.

Indeed, I'm hard-pushed
to find much legal account

of George Tait at all.

He has no rate book
for his property, sir.

Indeed, the address he has
given, he calls it Shelley Walk,

but I cannot find the street.

There is a patch of wasteland, Shelly's
Ground, and on it some poor dwellings...

self-made.

He is a squatter.

My belief, sir, is that
you are looking at a man,

as lives his entire
life outside of the law.

Can you tell me, sir?
I'm anxious for my Mary.

Can you tell me how she fares?

We will bring news of her, but she's
not your daughter, as you claim.

Not by blood.

But I've been her
protector for five years,

since she was 15.

You are a brick setter,

Hm? An ordinary man.

Yes, sir.

No, Mr. Tait, not ordinary.

For you do not officially exist.

You are a convict, perhaps.

But I see no mark.

Or an absconder, fled from the army.

Navy?

No, sir.

A convict I never was.

Though a prisoner, surely.

Absconded, fled?

No, but escaped.

I've never sailed the sea, sir.

I've never left the
bounds of this borough.

But I've been to places
I've thought never to see.

I do not like riddles, Mr. Tait.

It stands thus... you
are an illegitimate man

With an illegitimate relation to a girl,

A girl who is alone in this
world and at your mercy.

Let me put this to you.

You took your pleasure off
her, and she fell pregnant,

but the solution to this evidence

of your violation proved
unspeakably brutal,

her sufferings unimaginable,

so in your remorse and your guilt,

you... you killed the man.

Violate?

Oh, sir, you don't know what you say.

Oh, my only thought in life to spare her,

save her from the vile attentions of men

and the sorrowful consequences upon her.

And you would kill for her,

would you, this precious girl?

No, sir. I'm no a killer.

Madam!

You can't come in here.

This is a gentleman's club.

Mr. Nathaniel Glynn,

a works contractor who
reneges on his contracts.

But you will not renege on our contract.

No, you will sign it now,

in front of your fine
friends and associates.

The price is as at first agreed.

Madam, you must leave here at once.

Or should I inform these good gentlemen

of the false terms under which

you have engaged their investments?

The Witham Fields Land Deal, for example.

Hmm, you sold the land at a premium

on the promise of rents of £3,000 a year,

This on the assumption of interest from

the East End Dwellings
Company for the building

- of their model dwellings...
- What of it?

...when you had already
been advised by Mr. Trafford

as to the unsuitability of
the land for construction.

I have the letter here,
dated 2nd of February,

withdrawing their interest.

How did you come by that?

Hmm.

This woman has lost her
wits to come to this place,

to believe she may dictate terms to me.

You may dismiss me, gentlemen,

as a one-time runner of saloon whores,

but I remember many a face in this room.

Be advised that the secrets
you spilled in my stews

to the faceless girls from
whom you took your pleasure...

the boastings and vauntings
you made in your cups...

now belong to me,

to dispense as I see fit.

You have been too much
at the oysters, Miss Hart.

or is it the port wine
has turned your stomach?

Oh, I do not blame you.

I should seek oblivion
myself, if I were you.

State your business.

Theodore Swift.

Your father is my business.

He's none of mine.

He has dissolved his businesses, _

liquidated his assets,

his houses in New York, Newport, Chicago,

swathed in dust sheets, void of life.

If you mean to vomit
again, pray mind my shoes.

I know nothing of it.

Theodore P. Swift...

hounded out of this very life,
forced to wander the boundless seas...

forced to find sanctuary
for his ill-gotten money.

Where, oh, where might
he find safe haven.

He will get no welcome here.

I have no converse with
the man, nor mean to.

He is the furthest,
coldest stranger to me.

But never for long, Miss
Hart, not if he has his way.

Must I stay in here all day?

It's very boring.

What do you make of this...

"A convict I never was, but a prisoner.

I've never left these streets,

but I've been to places
I never thought to see."

What is it?

It is a riddle.

Not a convict, but a prisoner.

A prisoner who has committed no crime.

That's right...

Is it a girl?

I don't think so, my dear.

I have done nothing wrong,

and I'm made to sit in rooms all day,

and doors are shut upon me.

It is why I must escape always.

It's why I must run from Mrs. Forbes.

And I'm always told,

"This is no place for you, little girl."

Donald, Mr. Tait's personal effects.

Ta.

I shall keep hold of this, if I may.

_

You come to restate your case?

Miss Hart,

If you could know the
despair of these women.

To give them some agency,

that their lives should not be
entirely beyond their control...

I would remind you, Miss Hart,

that I once rendered service
to you, unquestioningly,

and in that made myself an
accessory to a black deed

that I have not spoken of thus far.

You need say no more.

My thinking has changed.

I will match your courage, Dr. Frayn.

I will fund this endeavour.

You have taken the wind from my sails.

Y-you spoke so strongly.

Your need to be... legitimate.

Legitimacy...

it is a promise that is a lie.

The promise of inclusion, but it's
true purpose is to exclude, to control.

I am pregnant, Dr. Frayn, and unmarried.

Is it not delicious?

Had I stayed a madam,

I should have done as I
pleased in this matter.

But I wished to be respectable.

It seems I must choose my prison.

These are records of medical procedures.

This is a case study.

It describes four treatments,

each time a different instrument.

But records that at the
end of these four visits,

her bleeding is still not brought on,

for that is not the purpose of this work.

The purpose of this work is
not treatment, but research.

My thinking is this.

A woman comes to this man for help,

but he only pretends to treat her.

Then these are experiments?

These are experiments
upon living subjects,

and unknown to them.

He records here that
he's not yet satisfied,

that he requires more cases,

A greater and larger practice.

Who is this man? Can we
know? He's a doctor, clearly.

I'm ahead of you. Here.

I found this invoice amongst his papers,

an order made to a Dutch
company, Alder Smits.

Grace can wire Tilbury Docks.

Here's some strange reading, Mr. Tait.

Will you hear it?

Yes, sir.

"An inquest was held on
the body of a labouring man.

It transpired that the
deceased, known as Harry Stokes,

was in reality a woman,
named Harriet Stokes...

had for 30 years worked
as a coal heaver."

Strange tale indeed, sir.

"A convict I never was, but a prisoner.

I never left these streets,

but I've been to places
I never thought to see."

You fled the bounds of a woman's life.

You put on a man's clothes.

You were free to do as you please,

go to places you would
not else be welcome.

And Mary... you meant to save her, too,

from the perils of a woman's existence.

But they caught her nonetheless.

The injustice of it,

that she should fall into the
hands of a man like Currie.

And just as you'd built your own life,

so you served your own justice on him.

You are fantastic, sir, in your thinking.

And this little girl...

...who I first imagined
to be your sister...

...is in fact yourself.

And this...

this fine lady, your good mother.

You have unmanned me.

Oh, my mother.

12 children she had.

Year on year,

they ripped their path
through her and into the world.

My father unheeding,
insisting on his rights.

I ask you, who would be a woman?

Who would be a wife?

My Mary, ah...

...I fought to find her the
best husband or none at all.

But he found her out, this villain.

This Havelock, this
wide-mouthed swaggerer.

I saw no quality in him, no patience.

I saw my father in
him, and I told him, no,

but still he must have her.

Oh, such a sweetness in her.

Tenderest heart, now fallen.

She thought to solve it,
that I might never know.

She claimed illness.

Only at the very last did she confess...

I... I could not...

unmake it.

I couldn't go back.

See her through it.

She bore it all alone.

...devastated,

destroyed by these men
she went to for help.

"Tart," he called her...

...the chemist, the man Currie.

After all he did to her,

after all she suffered,

and I battered him for
it. And I don't regret it.

For he'll hurt no girl more.

My only sorrow is that
I didn't kill 'em both.

For you have murdered me!

But I am the man will hang for it!

I must ask you your true name.

Sarah Elizabeth James.

Sarah Elizabeth James...

I charge you with the murder
of Chemist John Currie.

Jackson, Mary Tait,

made barren by these men, this poor girl.

Could her wreck be our answer,
the key to this surgeon we seek?

These... potassium
hydroxide, hydrogen peroxide,

lactic acid... it's a birth control,

but all methods are found wanting...

because the experiments
were to go further.

Beyond termination?

Sir, Alder Smits, Tilbury.

A consignment came in for
delivery to Obsidian Clinic

for the attention of Dr. Amelia Frayn.

Well, then, let us to work.

Procedure I believe I have now perfected.

A significant advance.

The patient suffers few complications.

The treatment is absolute.

W-what you describe here...

it is sterilisation.

We spoke of safe
treatment, contraception,

but you intend sterilisation.

The prevention of unwanted pregnancy
is our common aim, is it not?

I-I thought we understood one another.

If we are to staunch this rascal
multitude, this overrunning,

we must then eradicate
the breeding population.

I would remind you, sir, that
you speak of human beings.

And you would have me believe
that all human beings are equal.

These incontinent men and women...

they can not be taught.
They can not be trusted.

Abstinence, chastity...
these are unknown virtues,

and so they breed.

Poverty, sickness,

a million gaping mouths
demanding to be fed,

and in their hunger...
sedition, rebellion, revolution.

You have neutered these
women against their knowledge,

against their will!

They would not otherwise consent.

And you mean to practice it here,

in secret, in my clinic,

On these women who come
to me as their last hope?

Dr. Frayn.

This man, this Anthony Rolle,

It is he... he mutilated
Mary Tait and others.

I flattered myself, that your interest
in me was a mark of my excellence...

I imagined and ally, at last...

who would stand with me
against the silence obscene

of the medical profession,

but you are nothing but a madman.

Dr. Anthony Rolle,

I will see you in shackles for
the miseries you have inflicted.

If he'd only said yes to me.

I'm not such a wretch as he thinks.

Blinded by hate for him, I was.

'Cause not for that, I wanted you.

If you'd told me, I'd have stood by you.

I'd have done right by you.

He would never have borne it.

And I could never have left him.

Oh, it is cruel.

Must he wear this dress?

Must he be robbed of even his dignity

as he goes to the gallows?

No, it cannot be. T-t-this cannot be.

My dearest girl, forgive
me. I smothered ya.

Oh, my love, it's all right.

Oh, George.

Oh, my George, my father.

You make me this promise.

You live a brave,
bright life for yourself,

whatsoever it may be. You choose it.

I saw a home,

a loving husband,

a child for me, a grandchild for you.

Then you find your joy elsewhere...

You live your life full.

Live free, and live true. Mm.

Promise me that.

No. No!

No!

- Live true, my baby!
- No!

No! No!

No!

No!

I've been practising my hand.

- Are we finished now?
- For today.

Then shall we go to the sea?

You may take your shoes and socks off...

- and walk in the water.
- We shall...

but not quite yet.

We must stay in Whitechapel
just a little while longer.

But I want to go to the sea.

You and I, and the
birds, and the sunshine.

I know, my heart, and we shall, we shall.

We'll not be long now.

I stay to bring all to its conclusion

so that we may both be free.

I must make apology.
I spoke harsh to you.

I have my doubts of Miss Hart,
but they touch not upon you.

Your bond with her is yours alone.

And... I... I thought it my
right, my place, to govern you,

to know better of your
happiness than you yourself.

Rose, I would not be that man,

still less that husband...

if, that is, it is a
husband you seek in me.

I will entrust myself to no other.

Oh!

I believe it was the
first happiness I ever knew

to look upon your face.

Born under a bad sign,
set upon a stark road,

this boy, Bennet.

"Blessed," the name means,

but so oft I felt myself cursed,
bound only for a dismal end.

Rose, I know you've had
some taste of happiness.

No, I-I'm glad of it.
I resent none of it.

Only I shall not rest
until I have made for you

that taste a lifetime.

A perfection.

Oh, Bennet.

That content, and the bliss I now know...

it is... as... sugar water is to honey.

Here.

Now, this is none of
your Edgar Morton stuff.

It is, uh, it is tiny.

It is but a speck of a thing.

My Rose.

How can it be

that this speck of a thing

can hold such a world of joy?

This room becomes you.

Though I guess you were born to
it, huh, to live grand? You...

It's as if I never was.

It is well you are here. I
had thought to send for you.

Well, I await upon your pleasure.

Matthew...

Now...

What does she plan here?

Would she have me believe she's human?

Well, let's see.

These are fingertips,

Where I thought to find claws.

You're determined in your bitterness.

I have reason to be,

though it kills something in me.

I found this.

Remember that day?

You broke a bone in your
corset from laughin'.

Laughter is for fools.

What is this?

Will you never tire of
your schoolboy pranks?

Miss Susan, there is a man.

I did not know what to do.

Theodore Swift.

It was only a matter of
time before you showed up.

But of course.

Father.

Well?

Where's my goddamn kiss?

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