All language subtitles for Emily.of.New.Moon.S03E06.1080p.WEBRIP-Hallmark

Emily:
Were there omens that day?

Vultures circling,

signs,
portents of doom?

There were none,

save for the thudding
of my own heart.

I chalked it up
to wild excitement.

Dear uncle Malcolm
was coming home from Scotland,

home to new moon
where he belonged.

(Steady, rattling drumbeat)

Who's there?

Why are you here?

(Steady, rattling drumbeat)

Emily:
Please, who are you?

(Steady, rattling drumbeat)

Emily:
What do you want?

Isabel:
Emily and her posies.

They'll be wilted
before father sets eyes on them.

If she had her way,

she'd greet the old goat
with a brass band.

Oh, come now, Isabel.

You baked three kinds
of cake!

Ian:
Yes. And a roast beef

big enough to feed
the whole island.

A wee bit of beef
after an ocean journey

does the body good.

Perks up the blood.

I know he's excited
about coming home.

He said so in every letter.

Isabel:
He did, did he?
Well, he coulda told me.

One measly post card
in the whole time.

Laura: Isabel!

Isabel:
Sailing on the empire,
home in a fortnight.

Jimmy:
Whoa...

Isabel:
Good heavens!

Laura:
Oh my! Quaratine!

Emily: Oh no!
Jimmy: What's this?

Emily:
Those signs!
Jimmy, what's going on?!

Jimmy:
Can we get through here?

Guard:
Not allowed
beyond this point, sir.

Turn your horse around.

No, but we've come all the way
from Blair water.

Orders, medical board,
charlottetown.

Medical board?

Guard:
Didn't ya know?

They're unloading the dead.

Isabel:
The dead?!

Guard:
Them's still alive
goes under quarantine

until further notice.

Emily:

Quarantine?!
But... uncle Malcolm!

(Steady, rattling drumbeat)

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Isabel:
You're a doctor.

You of all people must be able
to find something out.

Laura:
Oh, but we don't know
whether he's even dead or alive.

Ian:
There must be a list.

Dr. Burnley:
Under maritime law
I have no jurisdiction.

Ian:
To hell with maritime law!

Grease somebody's palm.

Is there an epidemic,
and is it spreading?

We have a right to know.

Dr. Burnley:
There will be no epidemic

as long as the passengers
are quarantined

from the rest
of Blair water.

Isabel:
I don't care about
the rest of Blair water,

I care about father!

Dr. Burnley:
But if he's been exposed...

Isabel:
My father and his father
before him

survived flood
and famine.

I will not have him
locked in some dirty shed

with diseased people.

Laura:
Oh, Isabel.
Alan?

Isn't quarantine
the very worst place

to catch the pox?

Dr. Burnley:
But it's the law.

But he's my father.
He's all I've got.

Laura:
We'll find him, Isabel.

I'll wire my lawyer
in halifax.

He knows people.

What bloody use
is a lawyer?

What bloody use
is a doctor?

Ian!
Alan, he-he's just...

You don't understand
the peril!

First thing we must do
is inoculate everyone.

It's the only way to stop
the spread of the disease.

The hair of the dog
that bit you.

Yeah,
the good doctor here

would have us
infect ourselves

with the pus
from open pox sores.

It's the best
and only way.

Isabel:
To give myself a dose
of the disease on purpose?

Over my dead body.

(Sighs)

The answer is no!
N-o!

There's no ifs, ands,
or buts about it.

So quit nagging us!

Don't want you catchin'
the pox!

Emily:
I won't catch it!
I'm as strong as an ox!

Ilse: Me too!
Perry: You can't come!

Uncle Malcolm
would save me

if I was the one
in the quarantine.

Jimmy:
Go home, sparrow.

Ilse:
We can help!

Emily:
It's not fair!

What's wrong?

If something happens
to uncle Malcolm

and I did nothing
to save him...

We can use father's horse,

even if he gets mad at me,
he'll get over it.

He always does.

Let's go!

Perry:

All right,
so this is how it's gonna go.

You're gonna go up there.

You're gonna say
"I'm Jimmy Murray

from new moon".

You're gonna say
"I'm Jimmy Murray

from new moon,

I'm here to buy
a coffin."

No, I'll say...

"I'm Jimmy Murray
from new moon.

I'm gonna buy a coffin."

And go to quarantine shed.
I'm gonna do both.

You are not gonna say that,
Jimmy.

You're gonna say
"I'm here to buy a coffin"

and that's it.

Look, Jimmy.

Why would you wanna go
to the quarantine shed?

Well, why would you?

Because I can't get
the pox.

Yes you can.

No. No, I can't.

Can.
You don't know that.

Because my aunt thom
told me

that when I was knee high
to a grasshopper

I got the cow pox.

That means I can't get it,
but you can.

Besides, one less Miller,
it doesn't matter none at all.

Of course it matters.

Matters much
as any Murray matters.

Now I'm going to that
quarantine shed.

If anybody's gonna get the pox
it might as well be me.

Now you get over there
and get that coffin.

Go on.

I'll flip ya for it.

I'll flip ya for it.
That's fair.

All right.

All right, "heads" you go
to the quarantine shed,

"tails" I go.

No.

Heads you go,
tails I go.

Other way around.

Yeah, all right.

(Coin thwaps onto ground)

That's heads.

It's my lucky day.

It's heads both sides.

Perry!
(Clears throat)

Oh...

I'm Jimmy Murray
from new moon,

here to buy a coffin.

(Muttering)
I'm Jimmy Murray
from new moon,

here to buy a coffin.

(Baby crying nearby,
sickly coughing)

(Sniffs and stifles a cough)

Perry:
Oh jeez.

(Baby cries)

(Appalled murmurs)

Mr. Murray.

Good god.

Mr. Murray.

Malcolm:
Perry Miller.
Is that you, lad?

Oh god.

Oh, Mr. Murray,

I saw your tartan
back there.

It was wrapped...

We did, we thought
you were a goner, sir.

Ach. A wee child
mustna be buried naked.

The tartan
will go to heaven now.

Sir, we didn't know
if you were dead or alive.

Malcolm:
Ach! I haven't caught
the blasted pox in 70 years,

I'll no' be catching it now
in my dotage.

That's what I told
the bloody medical officer,

but no, the old clart
he wouldna listen.

Perry:
Sir, we gotta go.

Malcolm:

Ye don't have a drop
of fresh milk, do ye?

Oh please, sir,
don't be thinkin' about whisky

at a time like this.

Not whiskey.

It's milk for the bairns.

There's half a dozen of 'em
in here.

Ach, there's a wee lad here,

saw his mother
carried out the door

dead as a door nail
before his very eyes.

I know, sir.
That's...

That's why we come.

That's why me and Jimmy come
to get you out of here.

No, no. And leave all these
poor souls to die?!

Oh lord,
I can't take 'em all, sir.

Please, you just gotta
save your own hide.

Guard:
Hey you!

Give us a hand over here!

Oh look, look.
Just do what I say, please.

(Woman cries in the distance)

Ilse:
Emily, look!

(Reigns crack,
carriage rattles)

Emily:
Oh, ilse,
we're too late!

Uncle Malcolm's...

Oh ilse, I can't bear it.

Don't cry.

Guard:
No takin' the coffins
outta here.

Only one place the dead go
and that's pox island.

They can't take him
to pox island.

We have to Bury him
at new moon

by the bones
of our ancestors.

Then there's only one thing
left to do.

Shall I do it alone?

No, ilse,

it's a Murray
in that coffin.

Well, what do you
want us to do?

We can't leave him here.

Guard:
You got no choice.

Those are the orders
of the medical board

of charlottetown.

Pox!

Emily and ilse:
We have the pox!
We have the pox!

(Wild screaming)

Guard:
Get back. Get back.

Emily and isle:
(Screaming wildly)

Guard: Get away from me!
Emily: Please help us!

Get away, you little vix.
Get away from me!

(Carriage rattles)

Hold on!
Come back with that coffin!

Emily and ilse:
(Scream)

Guard:
You, come back here!

Dr. Burnley:
Keep away,
everybody keep away!

(Cacophony of shouting)

Isabel:
Father! Father!
(Cries)

Dr. Burnley:
Jimmy, how could you do this?

After I warned you

the consequences
could be disastrous!

Jimmy:
Well, um...

Laura:
Oh, my lord!

For pity sakes,
stop your belly achin',

the lot of you.

I'm the one with slivers

sticking clear through
to my backside.

Next time I die,

buy me a coffin
with a satin lining, huh?

It's all right,
my lad,

meet your new family.

Say how do ye do,
there's a good fellow.

How do you do?

(Exhales with disgust)

(Lightning crashes,
thunder rumbles)

Isabel:
The idea of bringing a boy
like that here.

What do you expect me
to do with him, father?

You treat him
as one of your own,

that's what ye'll do!

Dr. Burnley:
The child is the least
of your problems.

Breaking quarantine!

You've put everyone of us
in peril.

Laura:
Alan, please.

Jimmy:
My fault.

Perry:
No, it's not his fault.

Look, I had this bogus coin,
you see...

Doctor,
there's no harm done.

I'm as fit as a fiddle,

and so is young Robbie.

Thanks to god
and the angels.

Dr. Burnley:
Don't speak to me of god
and the angels

in the same breath
as the pox.

How many people died
in that shed, Malcolm Murray?

How many - five? Ten?

How many?!

Robbie's mother,

a dozen others all died.

Some at sea,

some in quarantine.

After a bit,
I stopped counting.

Robbie and me,

our luck held,

thanks to good constitutions,
you see.

Dr. Burnley:
It has nothing to do with luck,

or your bloody constitution.

I have no way of knowing

if you're harbouring
the disease.

It takes days
to develop symptoms.

Ian:
Good lord, is it even safe to be
in the same room with them?

Laura:
Oh, but he looks so well.

It can't be as dangerous
as all that.

But it is!

Breathing the air
they breathe,

touching their clothes,
their bedding.

Isabel:
Nonsense.

I-I-It's the germs
on board the ship.

You know the noxious fumes
from the hold

where the poor wallow
in their own dirt.

We're going to scrub
the house

from stem to stern
with lye,

where the disease won't dare
come through the doorway.

Don't be a fool.

You'll have to burn down
the house to kill the pox.

Malcolm:
Doctor, need you be so harsh?

These dear lambs
have risked their lives

to bring me home.

Laura:
Yes. And god will protect us.

Dr. Burnley:
There is no devine Providence
to protect you from the pox!

That's what I'm trying
to drum into your heads.

Laura:
There's no need to shout.

(Thunder rumbles)
Sorry.

I've ordered vaccine
from charlottetown.

It should be
at the general store by dawn.

I'll start
administering it there

first thing in the morning.

Ian:
Doctor, a word.

This vaccine of yours,
is it safe?

Is it possible to die
from it?

There are cases of death,

but few compared to those
who perish from the pox itself.

Mostly it's fever and aches.

Ian:
Oh, I've heard worse.

Encephalitis,
blood on the lungs.

Dr. Burnley:
Those are rare.

So those who only sicken
and don't die,

they're the lucky ones?

It's the only defense
we've got.

Ah.

I beg you,

don't talk these people out
of saving their own lives.

I'm a gambler, doctor,

and even I don't like
these odds.

Laura and I will not
be taking your vaccine.

Laura doesn't have
the strength

to fight illness.

(Whispers)
I'm her husband.

I'll decide
what she does.

(Thunder rumbles)

Emily:
You can ride the hobby horse
if you'd like.

It's very old.

Archibald Murray built it
for my mother

when she was born.

Do you miss your mother?

My mother died too.
A long time ago.

Her name was Juliet.
What was your mother's name?

Robbie:
Kesia burns.

Emily:
Kesia.
That's so beautiful.

What about your father?

Robbie:
He was a sailor.
Died in a storm.

And you're Robbie burns.

After the poet?

That's what
my mother said.

Well, it's an honour to be
named after a great poet.

Guess what?
I write poetry too.

Here,
in my Jimmy book.

It's not nearly
as good as his,

but you can read it
if you like.

Don't read so good yet.

Well, we'll fix that.

You'll go to school
and learn lots of things.

Here, lie down.

I'll tuck you in,

read you one
of my latest poems.

You have to promise
not to laugh,

because it isn't so good
yet.

"The lonely hunter,"
by Emily byrd starr.

"The trumpet's call
o'er Dale resounds.

The hunter's horn,
the cry of the hounds,

the men in jackets
golden bound..."

I thought that was
a rather nice touch -

resounds, hounds, bound.

Then there's found,
frowned, and pound,

but they're not nearly
as romantic as...

Poor little tyke.

Oh, he's the sweetest
little boy,

and he's an orphan
exactly like me.

Well, he's not exactly
like you, Emily.

What do you mean?

Well, he's different.

No he's not.

We both lost our parents.

Well, I-I-I mean,
you know, his colour.

Oh that?

Aunt Laura, I never saw
dark skin before.

Isn't it glorious?!

Like beautiful
chocolate velvet.

I'd love to have skin
like his.

Emily,
you must never say that.

Why? A nubian Princess
with skin of dusky brown.

Emily, please.

Don't talk like that
in front of the others.

But why?

Just don't.

Now, come downstairs,
let him sleep.

Emily!

I was just going
to give him a kiss.

I know, but you know
what Dr. Burnley said.

There's danger.

You're not making any sense,
aunt Laura.

We kissed uncle Malcolm,
why can't we kiss Robbie?

Emily,
please come.

(Thunder rumbles,
lightning cracks)

(Door creaks open)

Father?

Father?

Brought you some warm milk
to help you sleep.

Malcolm:
Did ye put a wee drop in it?

Of course not.

Pity.

Then take it away,

I'm all tuckered out.

Oh father,
you've been gone half a year

and now you turn
your back on me?

Listen,
I've made a resolve.

When I finally
got your wee post card,

which I waited for

the whole time
you were gone,

by the way,
but never mind.

I said to myself,
"when my father comes back,

we're going to make
a fresh start, he and I."

But...

Now you've come back
with that boy.

What of it?

What of it?

What do ye mean,
"what of it"?

Ach, daughter,

it's a grand big house,

there's plenty of room.

The wee fella hasn't a soul
in the world

to care for him.

(Thunder rumbles outside)

Malcolm:
Besides,

I've grown attached to him.

Attached?

Malcolm:
Aye. I never had a son,

a lad that could carry on
the Murray name

after I've gone.

The Murray name?

Mmm.
Adopting the child,

yes,
it has crossed my mind.

Oh. You're joking.

You're trying to unnerve me,
father.

Come on now,
you've had your fun.

Malcolm:
Daughter, I'm serious.

(Lightning crashes,
thunder rumbles)

It'll be good for me.

And it'll be good for you
as well.

Someone to comfort you
in your old age.

In my what?
(Scoffs)

It wasn't enough

I had to contend
with a jezebel.

Now this... this insect?

This abomination?

I'd rather you'd stayed
in Scotland

than to come back here
with some coloured boy

and yammer about adoptin' him.

Malcolm:
Shut your mouth, Lucifer,

or I'll tear your evil tongue
from your head

and feed it to the crows!

(Tense exhale)

Isabel:
Ugh!

(Chuckles)

Ah... that's better.

(Door opens)

(Door closes)

(Wind blows,
bird chirps)

Ian:
Laura!

Oh!

Where's burnley?

Oh, is that what
you think?

Oh, don't be a fool.

Well, I wondered
where you were going.

You had no business
following me.

I'm a jealous husband.

Here,
share this with me.

Here.

What?

(Laughs)

To wives clever enough

to make their husbands
jealous.

Yeah.
(Chuckles)

(Coughs)

(Chuckles)

(Laughs)

Oh.

(Glass splashes in water)

I used to come here
as a child when I was...

Frightened or worried...

It always soothed me.

Ian:
Laura,

Dr. Burnley wasn't wrong,
you know?

I gave him a bit
of a hard time.

There are dangers involved
with the vaccine

and I saw no reason
to expose ourselves.

But they used the vaccine
in england

during the epidemic,

and again in Montreal.

And there are those
who feel

that it prevented
an even worse outbreak.

But Isabel listened to you.

You-you weren't thinking
of the children -

of Emily and that boy.

That boy is none
of our concern.

I am so confused
about all this.

I don't understand you.

I don't understand myself.

Well, that's why
I couldn't sleep.

Emily said things,

and I think perhaps
she was right.

I mean, of course,
she's just a child,

but she doesn't see
a difference.

It's as if his colour doesn't,
doesn't even matter,

chattering on about
chocolate skin

and nubian princesses...

Emily is a fanciful child.

She doesn't understand
the way the world works.

I'm confused.
Colour or not,

they are still
innocent children.

(Exhales)
If anything...

If any of them got ill?

I... I would never
forgive myself.

Do this for me, Ian.

Tell Isabel
that you spoke hastily,

that you've reconsidered,

and that perhaps the children
should have the vaccine.

Even if they sicken
from it?

Some will die,
you know?

Do you want that
on your conscience?

No.

I'm appealing
to your good judgment.

The best defense
isn't the vaccine,

it's leaving.

We'll go to Boston,
stay as long as necessary.

And before you know it,

the threat of the disease
will run its course,

and then it will be safe
to return.

You want me to leave
my family in danger?

I can't do that!

Ian.

If you want me to treat you
as an equal,

then stop playing
female games.

Deep down inside

you want to run
just as much as I do.

It's only human nature.
Admit it.

You want to feel safe,

you want to feel free
from the fear of illness.

Yes, I do.

That's all I ask.

(Steady, rattling drumbeat)

Shhh.
(Hushed whispers)

(Inaudible whispers)

(Steady, rattling drumbeat)

Violet:
Well, I didn't do it
on purpose!

How was I to know
there was glass

in the damned
fool package?

I ain't a mind reader!

An entire shipment
of vaccine ruined...

First come first served.

Mrs. MacDonald:
By rights I shoulda
had the first dose!

Oh, oh my lord!

It's all wet.
Why is it wet?

I thought it was a pill
like Lydia pinkham's.

They've sent us
wet cow pus,

straight from filthy cows!

Mrs. Eldritch,
your talking about matters

beyond your comprehension.

Oh, am I?

Rhoda!
Wipe this up fast,

cow pus loose in the store,

infecting the merchandise.

I never should have let you do
your dirty business here.

Dr. Burnley,
I'm terribly sorry,

but we can send
for more.

The mail's going out
tomorrow morning.

It's too late.

I'll ride to charlottetown
myself.

With any luck,

I can be back
in a day and a half.

Mrs. MacDonald:
Figures, them mucky-mucks
in the city

hoggin' it all
to themselves!

Me and mikie here,
we was first ones in line!

Violet:
Oh, consider yourself lucky,
Mrs. MacDonald.

Takin' a pill's
one thing,

but rubbing yourself
with cow pus,

oh that's another.

No siree,
count me out.

That's for sure.

Rhoda:
Aunt Violet,

I'm sure Dr. Burnley
would not vaccinate us

if it was harmful.

Violet:
Oh is that so?

People hush it up,
but word gets around.

Woman over in carmody,
she took the cow pus,

next thing you know,
she's got horns an' a tail,

down on all fours,
mooin' like a crazed animal.

Mrs. MacDonald:
Count me out, doctor,

I've heard enough.

You mustn't listen
to superstitious nonsense,

Mrs. MacDonald.

Between my monthlies
and the lumbago,

I've got enough trouble

without growing horns
and a tail.

Good day to ye.

(Hum of chatter)
Mrs. MacDonald, wait!

(Carriage rattles)

Hurry up, Emily,
ye'll be late for school.

Is my father up yet?

No, he's, um,
he's havin' a sleep-in.

Isabel:
I suppose those lovebirds
aren't down here either?

No. They're out
havin' words

about goin' to Boston
or something.

Good.
I hope they go.

Two less mouths
to feed.

Come on.
Come on, Emily.

Emily:
Finish up, Robbie.

You don't wanna miss
your first day at school.

I beg your pardon?

She said he don't wanna
be late for school.

A word with ye, dear.
Hurry up.

That boy is not setting foot
in my classroom.

But I promised him.

There are schools
for his kind,

in the bog,
in charlottetown.

They separate us from them
for a reason.

What if people
were separated

because their eyes
weren't the right colour?

It's not exactly
the same thing, is it?

It's mean
as second skimmings!

You can't send him to the bog.
I'm telling uncle Malcolm.

You'll do nothing
of the kind.

Grand visitor arrives,

thinking he can tell us
how to live our lives?

James Murray, would you kindly
stop giving the boy

half the food in the house.

And when you leave today,

you take him
and drop him off at the bog.

Do ye hear me?
That!

I've had enough
of your lip.

Otherwise we'll drop you off
at the bog with him,

see how much
you like that.

I'd like it anywhere
except with you, you old bat.

What did you say?

Jimmy:
Said she can't
find her hat.

School.

(Pointer taps on table)

Isabel:
Question.

If 16 sacks of whole wheat
flour cost $4.20,

and 12 sacks of white flour
costs $5.30,

how many sacks of flour
can you buy

for $8.00 dollars?

Would anyone like to hazard
a guess?

What, do ye think I'm here
for the good of my health?

I'm here for your good,

for the good
of your pocket books.

I mean,
if you go into a store

with 8 hard earned dollars
in your wee fist

and you don't know
how to divide,

the shopkeeper's
going to Rob ye blind.

(Horse whinnies outside)

What are ye all...?

What on earth is going on
out there?

None of ye move.
Do ye hear what I say?

Jenny:
Look at the bog boy
with the idiot Murrays!

Find him in a coal pit,
did ya?

You shut your gob,
you snot-nosed pig.

He'll no' be going to school
in the bog.

He'll be learning his lessons
here with the others.

Take a seat now,
Robbie my lad.

I promise you there'll be
no more trouble.

Understood, daughter?

All right,
you may sit there.

Now, if 16 sacks of whole wheat
flour costs $4.20,

and 10 sacks of white flour
costs $5.30 -

you will note,

that the brown flour
is much cheaper than the white.

Yes, but everybody knows
that brown is healthier.

(Carriage rattles)

Children: (Chanting)
Bog boy, bog boy, bog boy,
bog boy, bog boy, bog boy...

Robbie:
Leave me alone, mikie!

Children:
Bog boy, bog boy, bog boy,
bog boy, bog boy, bog boy...

(Fighting grunts)

Children: (Chanting)
Beat the bog boy!
Beat the bog boy!

Beat the bog boy!
Beat the bog boy!

(Fighting grunts,
children chant)

Beat the bog boy!
Beat the bog boy!

Emily:
Stop it!

Perry:
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!

Isabel:
Stop it, all of you!

What are ye sayin'?
What are ye doin' to him?

You wretched little boy!
Look what you've caused!

Stop.

Child:
Why don't you just go home,
cry baby!

Emily:
Robbie, wait!

(Water sloshes)

I'd get Dr. Burnley

but ilse said
he went to charlottetown.

He doesna need a doctor.

'Tis the Marquis of queensbury
he needs.

On your feet,
my Bonnie lad.

'Tis time you learned
to defend yourself

like a true highlander.

Emily:
You're teaching him
how to box?

'Tis a sorry thing,
Lassie,

when a man must resort
to his fists.

Now, Robbie,

first, you offer
the hand of friendship.

But, when all else fails,
up yer fists, my lad.

Up higher, higher,
higher, higher.

Protect yer wee chin.

And a jab, jab, jab
and a right to the jaw

and the bullies'll soon
leave ye alone.

(Chuckles)
Now once more then.

A jab, jab, jab...
Right to the jaw.

Now you do it to me then.
Come, come, you do it.

Yes!
(Laughs)

(Weeping)
'Tis a sorry bitter lesson,
my son.

One that my own father
taught me

when I was no bigger
than you.

(Bagpipes play)

(Hushed chatter)

Can we be friends,
mikie MacDonald?

You talkin' to me?

I am.

The day I'm friends
with a bog boy

is the day
hell freezes over.

(Children gasp and chatter)

Isabel:
What are ye doin' now?
Fightin' again?

Father,
what have ye been up to?

Malcolm:
Help me.

Emily:
Uncle Malcolm!

Isabel:
Father? Father?

Oh my goodness.

Oh, he's boilin' up
with a fever.

Emily:
Oh. Oh, uncle Malcolm.

Dr. Burnley:
It's the pox.

Exactly as I feared.

Isabel:
We cannot leave him like this.
He's burning up with fever.

Dr. Burnley:
I've done all I can.

There's the rest of you
to consider.

If you refuse to isolate him
I can't protect any of you.

Isabel:
It's that boy!

He brought the disease
with him.

I knew it!

Dr. Burnley:
Isabel,
for an intelligent woman,

the nonsense you spout
never ceases to amaze me.

Laura:
I-if we isolate him,

where could we put him?

Dr. Burnley:
I'm afraid this
is just the beginning.

I plan to set up a hospital
at my office.

Isabel:
What, and have me traipse
back and forth

the livelong day
to your house

to treat my own father?

He'll stay right here
where I can keep an eye on him.

Dr. Burnley:
Exposing the rest of you.

Ian:
Laura, let's leave for Boston
as quickly as we can.

If you like,
we can take Emily.

Do it, Laura.
But get inoculated first.

Now don't start all that.

I'm not having her purposely
infecting herself.

Ian:
Isabel, I'm afraid the odds

have taken a decidedly
different turn.

Laura:
The vaccine,

you brought it
from charlottetown?

I tried.
There's a panic there.

They've run out themselves.

Sent to Montreal for more,

but we'll never
get it in time.

There's even talk
of barricading the roads.

And throwing up
something terrible.

Oh good lord,
we'll all be trapped here.

What do we do?

Make our own vaccine -
from diseased cows,

just as they did
in the old days.

Ian:
But that'll take time,

and finding cows
with the pox?

Perry:
No, no, wait a minute,

we got bluebell out in the barn.

Now she's been ailing
for a week.

Jimmy's with her right now.

Dr. Burnley:
It's cow pox all right.

A full-blown case of it.

I was milkin' her
a while back.

Started feeling
real poorly -

had a headache,

lucky for you, Jimmy.

It doesn't always work
and it isn't always mild,

but you gave yourself
a genuine case of the pox.

Milkmaid's disease.

Well, I'll be!

Same principle
as inoculation.

Get a little of this pus...
On a scratch

and there you have it.

Does that mean you can't
get the real thing?

Dr. Burnley:
A good chance he won't.

Just keep scraping
bluebell's sores every day

like I'm doing now,

then bring it to my place.

We'll inoculate
the children first,

then the adults.

Bluebell...

You're a hero now.

Yes, you are.

Uncle Malcolm?

Malcolm:
Uh...

Do you feel terribly sick?

I'm sweating like a hen
laying square eggs.

Emily:
I'll get you out a cold cloth
and put it over your forehead.

No!

Dr. Burnley said...
Nobody near me.

Emily:
At least let me open
the curtains.

I don't see how a stuffy room
is better than fresh air

and sunlight.

Emily, lass.

Emily:
Don't talk.
You'll use up your strength.

Did I...
Did I do the wrong thing,

bringing wee Robbie
to this house?

You mustn't ever
think that.

He's the dearest boy
and he loves you so.

And besides, I've always
wanted a little brother,

now I have one.

A little brother.

You'll take care of him?

Always and forever.

(Exhales)

Then I can die easy.

No! You can't die,
I won't let you!

You're strong,
you're a Murray.

You have Murray blood
running through your veins.

(Sickly coughing)

Emily:
Cousin Isabel, come quick!

Isabel:
Go on, move child, move!

Keep him out of my sight!
Father, what is it?

(Hum of chatter)

Dr. Burnley:
Be brave now.

Remember, you're setting
an example for the others.

Ilse:
But you know how much of a...
(Pants nervously)

Coward I am.

Done.

Already?
Mm-hmm.

I didn't even feel it.

Mrs. MacDonald:
Let me by.
My boy's got the fever.

(Clack of bodhran drumstick)

Mrs. MacDonald:
Doctor, doctor,
mikie has the fever.

Ya gotta give him the cow pus
right away.

Ilse, get the others
out of here, quickly now.

Now, let's have a look.

It's too late
to inoculate him.

Ilse:
No! Wait!

Stop! Wait!
(Children shout)

Ilse:
Mikie MacDonald got the pox,
and now everyone's scared,

but if they don't get
the vaccination,

it'll spread like wildfire!

Laura:
Oh, Ian,
we have to do something.

Ian:
Wait! Come back.

All of you come back!

Now Mrs. Bowles and I are here
to be inoculated.

We were leery just like
you were at first.

We know there's a risk,

but it can't be worse
than the disease.

Now if we don't
take this chance,

there could be an epidemic,

and we'll all be dead
in a fortnight!

Ilse:
E-everyone stay calm.

I'll tell my father
you're here.

Mm, so don't be afraid,
it's just a little cut.

I hardly even felt it.

It's him!
He was on the ship!

He brought the plague
on our head!

He's not even sick!

Ilse:
Wait, oh wait, please!

Ian:
Everyone stop!

Ilse:
The vaccine will help you!

(Leaves rustle,
wind blows)

(Steady, rattling drumbeat)

Children:
♪ ring around the rosy
pocketful of posies ♪

♪ "ashes, ashes"
we all fall down! ♪

♪ Ring around the Rosie
pocketful of posies ♪

♪ "ashes, ashes"
we all fall down! ♪

(Hammer taps)

(Lock rattles)

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Ilse:
Could you please help me
with this?

(Scalpel clanks against jar)

(Crying)

(Sniffles)

Father?
Some cold roast beef?

Oh, just set it down.

Father, you can't go
all day without eating.

You're always thinking
about other people

and not yourself.

Even Isabel Murray
got inoculated.

What about you?

There isn't time to tend
the sick, let alone...

Father, I won't take no
for an answer.

Roll up your sleeve.

You're right,

you're absolutely right,
ilse.

Ilse:
All right now.

All ready.

Be brave.

There we go.

Well done.

I'll need your help
tomorrow.

We'll start bringing
in the worst cases.

Sheets, towels,
fresh bedding every day,

burn the infected clothing.

(Sighing heavily)

I wish I believed in prayer.

Emily says
you don't have to believe.

Just pray anyway.

Dr. Burnley:
On the off chance
there is a god

hiding up there
in the clouds?

A god who brings the pox
on little children?

A god who gave you the brains
to be a doctor,

so you can fight disease?

You make it sound
so simple.

Ilse:
I'm not smart like you,
father,

but what hurt
could a little prayer do?

I couldn't go on without you,
ilse burnley.

Don't worry,
you're stuck with me.

No one else in the world
would want me except you.

Emily:
Cousin Isabel,
I was wondering,

could I please have the dollar
great aunt Nancy sent me

for my birthday?

No, you may not.

It's put aside
for winter boots.

I can live without boots.

You see, Robbie,
he's got the aches.

Dr. Burnley said to expect it
from the inoculation.

He said there's
something new,

it's called salicylin.

They have it
at the general store.

The answer is no.

The way your feet
are growing,

you'll be whining
for the boots come winter

and I won't have the money.

Please, cousin Isabel.

Uncle Malcolm may benefit
from it.

They say it helps
bring down the fever.

Oh, fine, fine.
Take it!

Money wasted on quackery!

Mind you bring it
straight back to me.

I'm not givin' any to the boy
until father's improved.

Why are you so miserable?

Uncle Malcolm would never
deny Robbie medicine!

He's only a little boy,

he never did anything
to hurt you.

What do you know about hurt,
hmm?

You and that boy
stealin' my father's heart

with a snap of your fingers -

do ya think that
doesn't hurt me?

You think I'm made
of stone?

I've got a father
who turns to mush

at the sight of any cat
or dog that he sees.

But for me,
his own flesh and blood,

not a decent word,

not a speck of kindness.

Cousin Isabel...

No.

You've never wanted me here,
any of you.

You've always hated me.

No.

Jimmy:
Orphan asylum?

Malcolm will wring
her neck!

He's too sick to stop her!

Orphanages are horrible places;

they starve you
and beat you.

Lord knows what they'd do
to a bog boy.

Don't say that!
It's hateful!

Robbie!

What you doin' there?

Where you goin?

Hey, Robbie.

Robbie, you know
I didn't mean that.

Emily:
Perry!

Jimmy:
Get it.
Ah, there we go.

Emily:
There's no sign of him.

Perry and Jimmy:
Robbie!

Perry:
Oh lord, we need help.
Go get Isabel.

I'm gonna go search the woods.

Jimmy:
Robbie!

Cousin Isabel!

He's run away
and it's all your fault!

He knows about
the orphan asylum.

Isabel: No.
Malcolm: Asylum?!

Father!
Father, you mustn't.

You she-devil!
You've driven him away.

No. I didn't mean to,
I didn't mean to, father.

Malcolm:
You've driven him...

Isabel:
Father, sit down!
Father...

I'll never forgive ye.
Never!

Father, I'll find him,
I'll find him.

I'll find him, I promise,
and bring him home.

I promise.

Robbie!

Robbie!

Robbie!

Robbie!

Laura and Ian:
Robbie!

Laura:
Ian, where could he be?

Let's try that way.

Robbie dear?

Where are you, dear?

Robbie.

Oh, Robbie.

Robbie.
(Gasps)

Och, there ye are.

Robbie, come home now,
all right?

Come on home.

No!

Help!

Help!

Help!

Help me!

Hold on.

Help!

Isabel:
Robbie, no!

Robbie!

Don't move!

Robbie:
Please help me!

(Screaming)

Robbie:
Help!

Robbie: Help!
Isabel: Oh god!

Robbie!

Isabel:
(Sobbing)

(Steady, rattling drumbeat)