All language subtitles for black.sails.s02e01.720p.bluray.x264-demand

Is this English soil?

It was once.

Now it ain't.

- Whose is it?
- Ours!

When the King
brands us pirates,

he means
to make us monsters,

for that's the only way
his God-fearing,

tax-paying subjects
can make sense of men

who keep what is theirs
and fear no one.

I'm not just going to
make you rich.

I'm not just going to
make your strong.

I'm going to make you
the princes of the New World!

Urca de Lima,

the largest Spanish treasure galleon
in the Americas.

Total cargo of 5 million
Spanish dollars.

A page was torn from the log

with the Urca's course
and schedule.

- Where's the page?
- You're looking at it.

I took drastic measures.
Your schedule is up here.

Our mutual friend
tried to protect you.

You left anyway. Why?

How did you feel
when she threw you aside?

Eleanor, wait.

I'm so sorry
he did this to you.

He didn't do this to me.
You did.

You betrayed your brothers
for a woman,

so the street
will know what you did,

and you'll never sail
beneath the black again.

Thank you for what
you did for me.

I didn't do it for you.

My husband and I were happy.

Captain Flint
was Thomas' closest friend.

And after his death,
he saw fit

to spirit me here
for my own safety.

Thomas' wife had begun
a torrid affair

with her husband's
closest friend.

And upon
discovering the affair,

Thomas went mad with grief.

Given the facts at hand,

the lover is none other
than our friend Captain Flint.

Found it in Bryson's cabin.
It's from the Barlow woman.

She wants a pardon
for Flint in Boston.

She says we're going to kill him
when we learn of his betrayal.

Earlier when you and Mr. Gates
were having words,

you mentioned a letter!
What was in it, Billy?

I think you know what was in it!

- To starboard!
- Man overboard!

- It's Billy! He fell!
- We can't turn back.

We're going to recreate
my father's system here

without my father.

A consortium with all of you
sharing in the profits.

There is a place
not far from here

where you could be feared
and respected once again.

I went out there,
surprised Captain Hornigold's men.

We took his fort.
Fort controls the bay.

The bay controls the commerce.

I control the fort,
so I will be your partner.

- You're lying to them!
- If no one knows, everyone wins.

I believe in this place.

If there's anyone
who can do what's necessary

to make it something better,
it's you.

- Sails!
- Is it the Urca?

She's a Man o' War!
Spanish banners!

That ship is an escort.
It's the only explanation.

I'm taking the Ranger
and I'm leaving.

I think it will be awhile
before she sails again.

In the meantime,
you and I have been charged

with provoking
this whole mess.

Told you I was certain

about my information
regarding the Urca.

Unfortunately, you and I failed
to take into account the weather.

The Urca de Lima
wrecked at sea last night,

dashed by the storm.

Are you certain this is wise, sir?

Stories I hear about the raiders
in these waters,

their brutality...

Cui bono, Mr. Fogg.

These men profit nothing
from blood.

They profit from cargo.
And they profit most

when that cargo
is least costly to win.

Those stories you've heard...

tools of the trade,

self-applied
by the pirates themselves,

intended to separate us
from our cargo

by surrender
rather than sword.

These are men, Mr. Fogg,
not monsters.

If we behave
rationally and civilly,

so will they.

Down to the well, move!

The ship is yours, sir.

Our manifest.

Everything that would be
of value to you

is accounted for,
and its location in the hold.

Eight barrels, marked "JP,"

forward hold, port side.
Mr. Neustadt, step to it.

Pardon me, Captain.
May I ask,

are you one of the pirates
that calls the port of Nassau home?

Three barrels, tea...

I'm a recent arrival to Nassau.

I only ask inasmuch
as it's become

something of
a fascination of mine.

They say the reality of the place
is far more interesting than the myth.

The business there is so efficient,
so enlightened,

that all trade is managed
by a teenaged girl.

Tell me, is that true?

What is it?

Ashe.

As in Lord Ashe.

Then let's get on with it.

Everyone up!

Oh, no, please.

Go ahead!

Oh!

Mercy, please...!

I'd like to thank you

for the orderly surrender
of your ship.

It's truly amazing to me
how many men in your position

lack the sense to do the same.

Ordinarily I would
return the courtesy,

relieve you of your cargo
and be on my way.

But your ship is about
to yield a prize

of far, far greater value
than our wildest expectation,

a far greater prize

for which I'd rather not
leave witnesses to the taking.

Please, please, sir.
I have a wife and a son.

Hell of a prize, Mr. Meeks.

Hell of a prize.

Captain.

Captain.

Captain, before we're seen...

Don't call him that.

Well?

Well what?

The crimes you've committed
against your crew are undisputed.

The only reason the sentence
hasn't been carried out

is that I've been
delaying the vote

in hopes that you might help me
find a way to get that gold,

or as much of it as possible,
off that beach.

Why would I do that?

Because if you do,

I'll personally guarantee
your sentences are commuted.

You'll guarantee that, will you?

You underestimate
your men yet again.

They will hear reason,

especially when it comes
from a voice they can trust.

The men feel they're entitled
to leave this ordeal

- with something to show for...
- Fuck those men.

Fuck them
for their shortsightedness.

Fuck them
for their ingratitude.

And fuck them
for siding with a cowardly,

sniveling shit of a mutineer.

There are over 100
soldiers on that beach,

sworn upon their lives
to protect that gold.

In a matter of hours,

they'll dispatch teams
to search for threats.

In a matter of days,

they'll locate our wreck
and our camp,

and they will kill
every last member of your crew.

And they'll deserve it,

none more so than you.

Bring them back.

We'll ready the nooses.

Wait.

The Urca's gold is secure.

A full complement of soldiers,

reinforced batteries...
18-pounders, all of them...

and men who know
how to use them.

There's no way

of approaching that beach
from the land.

Why the fuck
are we listening to him?

Yeah, why?

We should be cutting
your goddamn tongue out

for all the lies you've told us.

Gentlemen!

No one is angrier
about Mr. Flint's crimes than I.

Which is why
you must trust me

when I ask you to hear
what he has to say.

And even if it weren't
for the soldiers,

even if it weren't for the guns,

there's a fucking warship
watching over every inch of the bay...

a fucking warship

that has already killed
half your number,

a fucking warship
that would prevent any approach

to that beach via the sea.

There's simply no way
of stealing that gold.

But there might be
something else you can steal.

The fucking warship.

What?

Too many soldiers
on the beach, which means

that the watch on the ship
is spare.

Two men approach quietly,

evade a handful of sentries

and eliminate the watch
on the mainmast.

Now at this point,

while the sun is failing

but before
the night watch arrives,

an assault could be made.

That ship is your only
means of escape.

And that ship
is your only means

of taking anything of value
out of this ordeal.

And once it is
in your possession...

- Enough of this.
- Once that ship is in your...

- Do none of you remember his crimes?
- Mr. De Groot!

Once that ship is in your possession,
you will be invincible!

Now the risk

falls almost entirely
on the first two men out.

I would volunteer
in exchange for your pardon.

That leaves one man to go.

One volunteer...

I'll do it.

I'll... I'll go.

Then let's put
Mr. Flint's plan to a vote.

All in favor?

Aye! Aye! Aye!

The ayes have it.

Whoa.

Lord Thomas Hamilton?

Ah.

Are you the liaison
sent by the Admiralty?

I am, my lord.

They say it started
with a man named Henry Avery.

Sailed into the port
of Nassau,

bribed the colonial governor
to look past his sins,

encamped his crew
upon the beach,

and thus began the pirate issue
on New Providence Island.

Where and when
will it all end?

I suppose that's where
you and I come into the story.

As I'm sure you're aware,
my father the earl holds great sway

amongst his peers
in Whitehall.

He has asked for the assistance
of Her Majesty's Navy

in pacifying the island
to which he holds title.

He was assured that this request
would be considered

- a matter of the utmost importance.
- Undoubtedly, my lord.

Then perhaps you can tell me
why they decided to send you.

Beg pardon, my lord?

A number of your superiors
are former schoolmates of mine.

I canvassed them
about your reputation...

the son of a carpenter,

no record of any
formal schooling,

and yet more literate
than any three boys I knew at Eton.

You are a rising star

with a bright future
in the Admiralty.

You can understand my concern.

Not really.

Perhaps my lack of education
is showing.

I intend to accomplish
something here, Lieutenant.

I intend to save Nassau
before she's lost forever.

And I cannot do that
with a partner

who might be more concerned
about advancing his career

than he is about
realizing this goal.

- You want to save Nassau, my lord?
- Very much so.

Then perhaps my job
is to make certain

you know
what you're getting into.

You can go in now.

I'll go get us some rum.

Where the fuck
were you today?

Here.

You wanted to be a partner
to the consortium, did you not?

You wanted to take
Hornigold's seat at the table?

Then that means you assume
Hornigold's responsibilities,

first among them...
turning up for the fucking meetings.

Is this really what
you came up here for...

scold me for truancy?

This morning somebody
killed two watchmen

and stole 500 pounds' worth
of cargo from the warehouse.

Sorry to hear that.

Don't be sorry.
Do your fucking job.

And what job is that exactly?

Hornigold provided security
for the consortium's operations.

And you'd like me
to fill that role for you now?

If your friends aren't capable
of protecting themselves,

then I argue they aren't
worth protecting.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

You were the one who decided
you wanted to be a part of this.

To protect the bay.

But to play the role
of constable

for the benefit
of Captains Naft and Lawrence?

Your problem isn't with me.

Your problem...
you need stronger partners.

I had stronger partners,
you shit.

What are you doing
down there, Eleanor?

Corporate charters?
Mandatory meetings?

The woman who stole ship and crew
out from underneath me

has no appetite for any of that.

I think that's why
you're so frustrated with me...

because you know all this,
because you know I know this,

and because you know
you are so much more like me

than anyone you've ever met
in your entire life.

Jesus Christ, enough.

Stop telling me
what it is you think I think.

You sound fucking ridiculous.

Do you know what it is I want?

I want to figure out a way
of selling everyone's shit here

for more tomorrow
than I did yesterday.

I want to establish a future here
that isn't measured in months.

And I want you to show up for a meeting
when you're fucking told.

- Can't leave yet.
- Watch me.

You haven't asked me
the question yet.

You haven't asked me
if I'm gonna let him in...

Flint.

Am I going to permit him
to enter the bay

with his Spanish treasure?

Assuming, that is,
he returns with it at all.

Be very careful, Charles,

because at a certain point

I will remove you from this place,
no matter what the consequences.

You'd do that?
For him?

How is it you see
such a partner in him

- and such a villain in me?
- He wants what I want.

Are you quite certain
about that?

Let's put it to a test.

Let's say I do separate Flint
from his gold when he returns.

And let's say you and I split it.

What?

Mm, see?

Not so easy.

Think about it...
I kill Flint,

give you half a fortune,
and then no more Naft,

no more Lawrence,
no more compromises.

You could do
whatever you like.

We could do
whatever we like.

How important is Flint
to you now?

Fuck you.

Fuck you, too.

Once the mainmast watch
has been eliminated,

hoist your signal.

If there is no signal
before the reinforcements

for the night's watch
depart the beach,

I'll assume failure
and begin our escape down the coast.

What if the signal is in time?

Then we'll launch our assault.

There is something
about which I want to be very clear...

even in success

you will be expelled
from the crew, cast out.

Are we understood?

You shit.

Um, beg pardon?

I needed a fighter,

someone I could count on
to make a difference on that ship.

What the fuck
were you doing volunteering?

I'm sorry,
I'm a little confused.

Why wouldn't I volunteer?
If we're to try and...

Hang on.

You're serious
about taking the ship?

What the fuck did you think?

I thought this was how
you intended to escape.

Sure, it would be a few days
of walking or so to St. Augustine,

but at least
we'd have a chance.

You really mean to board that ship.
Jesus Christ.

I'm not doing it.

I don't need to return
to Nassau.

I am happy to find
some other place to survive.

St. Augustine is that way.

It's at least a week on foot,
Tequesta tribes in between.

I doubt you'll survive
to see sunrise tomorrow.

How are you even
gonna get out there with one arm?

What is this exercise
intended to prove, Lieutenant?

You want to understand
why piracy flourishes

in the West Indies.

I'm about to show you.

Have you seen one of these before?

I'm afraid I haven't, no.

Who is he?

Davey someone-or-other.

High seas piracy, treason,
so on and so forth,

same as the last,
same as the next.

He's being asked
if he wants to confess,

beg forgiveness in the eyes of God
and Queen Anne.

Suck my cock!

I assume that was a "no."

So this is the lesson...

the pirates
of New Providence Island

are incorrigible,
dedicated to mayhem.

To attempt to address
this subject

is doomed
to defeat from the outset.

It's not him
I wanted you to see.

No mercy!

Take him all the way to hell!

It's them.

Civilization needs
its monsters.

You think Whitehall wants piracy
to flourish in the Bahamas?

No, I don't think they want it,
but I think they're aware

of the cost associated
with trying to fight it.

And I think
that that sound travels.

You're an educated man,
my lord,

but I think it
worth reminding you

that in most cases
a man trying to change the world

fails for one simple
and unavoidable reason...

everyone else.

Do as I say when I say,

or I'll kill you myself.

Well, that was easy.

Hurry up!

I will fucking kill you.
Shut up.

For crying out loud!

That's 10 minutes
I've been waiting.

Just a moment's peace,
my friend.

Surely you can empathize.

Jack Rackham.

The crew killer.

That's right.

Jesus.

What happened?

Same as yesterday,

though it would appear
things have escalated.

When I came here, I had nothing
but my name and my wits.

A man in a place like this

surviving on those
two things alone...

he suffers indignities,

slights, ridicule.

But I overcame it.

I used the wits
to build the name.

I became quartermaster
to a crew

that struck fear into the hearts
of many, many men.

Jesus Christ,
what's become of my name?

They pissed on me.

Tell me who did this.

So you can murder them all?

What a wonderful idea.
Why didn't I think of that?

Tell me, though,
how many men do you think

you can safely lure
into the wrecks to their deaths?

Unfortunately, I'm afraid
eight won't cut it,

as I am pariah to just about
every able-bodied man

on this fucking island!

They pissed on me.

I will send someone upstairs
to tend to him.

He is angry,
but this will pass.

Stay the fuck away from me.

- Wait.
- You almost got us killed.

- Almost. Almost.
- For a fucking bauble.

It's a boatswain's whistle.

Look.

Doesn't it make more
sense for us

to prompt
the lookout to come down,

than for us to go
up there after him?

You are truly amazing,
you know that?

We're both better off now
than we were two minutes ago,

yet you're angry about it
because it didn't happen your way.

Might you consider
for a fucking moment

that your distrust of me
is completely unwarranted?

I warned you about Billy.
Was I right?

I found you
over Mr. Gates's body,

and did I do anything
but defend you?

When you were sinking
to the bottom of the sea,

who do you imagine it was
who dragged you onto that beach?

Brace yourself,

but I'm the only person
within a hundred miles of here

who doesn't want
to see you dead.

But this is the rate I can offer you
for this material.

If it's unsatisfactory,
feel free to go elsewhere.

This is absurd.
There's absolutely

nothing wrong
with the cargo itself.

What's going on here?

Ma'am, these goods
were presented for consignment,

but your man here
refuses to pay full freight for it,

owing to the condition
of the barrels they're in.

Put up a fight, did they?

Once we were on board,
the crew turned, gave us no choice.

There was no malice in it.

Mister...

Meeks, ma'am.
Quartermaster of the Fancy.

Mr. Meeks, do you have
any idea what happens

when a marginally reputable
cargo ship enters a civilized port

and attempts to unload 50 barrels
full of cargo covered in blood?

This material all must be unboxed
and reboxed into clean containers

before I can even think
about shipping it out.

Between you and I, which of us
should bear the cost of that?

Whatever happened on that ship,
it was a costly fuck-up.

But it wasn't my fuck-up,
and I'm not about to pay for it.

Ma'am, I must beg
your understanding.

My crew is new to this place.

Going forward, we'll certainly keep
this issue in mind.

Mr. Meeks, who is
the captain of the Fancy?

Ned Low.

Please relay to Captain Low

that it is his responsibility
to manage the taking of prizes

to avoid situations like this
in the future.

If there are any savings
in the repacking of these goods,

I'll be sure
to pass them on to you.

Good afternoon.

Madam Guthrie.

You wished to speak with me?

Sit.

Do you know Captain Hallendale
of the Straight Arrow?

Yes.

Not terribly strong or daring,

but knows how to manage a prize,
reliable in that way.

Sorry, what has this
got to do with me?

The Good Fortune
was captured yesterday

but by a different captain
who found her first,

beat Hallendale to her,

and then, instead of managing
her surrender,

he put her entire crew
to the sword.

I give Hallendale a lead.

Hallendale spends
all his time in here.

And somehow that lead

ends up in the hands
of a fucking maniac.

Madam Guthrie,
isn't it just as possible

this is a rather unfortunate

but not at all implausible
coincidence?

I sold it.

To Captain Low.
He paid 90 pieces for it.

- Why would you do...?
- Why wouldn't I?

Valuable information walks in the door,
I should let it walk out?

Why?
Because it bothers you?

Stay out
of my fucking business.

Consider this the only warning
you're ever gonna get.

- You fucking ingrate.
- Now that's not helpful.

You mewed and whimpered
in that fucking tent

till you had me
all turned around.

Got me thinking you were
some helpless thing they was beatin' on.

I get you out,
and you pull this shit.

- Starting shit without telling us.
- Let me explain.

- Don't you fucking talk back to me.
- All right.

Either she's on her back,
or she's out on the streets.

But if it ain't one of the two
come tomorrow,

I'm gonna deal with it my way.

I will be very honest with you.

I could torture the two of you
to find out who you are,

how many more of you
there are

and what you're hoping
to accomplish here.

I could find it out
and you would both suffer.

But today is your lucky day,
at least for one of you.

My commander arrives

to relieve the watch
in less than an hour.

I need this matter
resolved before then.

So neither of you will be here
when he arrives.

One of you will tell me
what I want to know,

receive this gold as reward,

be escorted to the beach
for your escape.

And the other will be
quite dead.

My name is John Silver.
His name is James Flint.

We came here to steal the gold
from the treasure galleon,

but he was deposed from his captaincy
by a man named Dufresne,

who is now waiting

with the rest of our crew
in longboats.

You'll likely find them
behind the promontory to the south.

I believe there are 32 of them.

You fucking...!

Su�ltalo.

Sorry.

Huh-uh.

Shoot this one.

He'll get to the pistol.

This one has more scars...
more fights.

You've got a better
chance against this one.

Not if he shoots me first.

Then beat him to it.
Do it, quickly.

So I actually
have to fight him?

Well, what the fuck did you think
was gonna happen?

Do it! Do it!

Bolt the door.

Table.

So what now?

They'll have to
converge through the door,

roughly a dozen of them,

and three pistols
at our disposal.

And then what?

Ah!

Hold your fire.

Mr. Logan,
weigh the anchor!

We must get underway

before they loose those
cannons on the beach.

Up the braces! Up the braces!
Unfold the canvas!

Come on!

- Return fire!
- Return fire!

Cannons are loaded!

Get us underway!
Get us underway!

Prepare to take fire!

Incoming!

...the fucking island.

She's feeding me
to that Guthrie cunt

and there ain't no telling
what else she's up to.

Now get the fuck out.

All right. Fuck!

You have absolutely
nothing to worry about.

Though I would recommend
avoiding her for a while.

Get the fuck out.

If we are all going to
make something of this place,

perhaps it is
in everyone's best interest

that you and I find a way
past all of this,

past your anger towards me.

I'm not gonna warn you again.

Your anger...
it is understandable.

You killed your own crew
to free me.

You suffered indignity
in my defense.

Perhaps that is enough
to warrant your feelings.

But perhaps there is
something else underlying it,

something hiding in a place
not even you can see.

Perhaps...

we would do well to...

bring it into the light.

What the fuck do you
think you're doing?

Huh?

Ma'am.

May I buy that for you, miss?

My bar.
Thank you anyway.

I confess,
I knew it was your bar.

Just a gesture for a pretty lady.

You must be new here.

I am, in fact.
How could you tell?

I don't fuck customers.

Everybody here knows it.
Now you do, too.

A sound rule.

Unfortunate for me,
but sound nonetheless.

Still, it is unthinkable to me

that someone this beautiful
is forced to spend her nights alone.

What's your name?

Ned Low.

You met my quartermaster
Meeks this morning.

From what I understand,
we were shortchanged

a fair amount on a prize haul

owing to the condition
of its containers.

I understand
Mr. Meeks told you

The episode on the Good Fortune
was a case of self-defense.

I apologize for that.

When I heard he told you that,
I knew instantly

that a woman of your stature
would see right through it.

And if you're anything like me,
you simply cannot abide a liar.

So I thought if I came here
to tell the truth,

perhaps we might reach
a more favorable outcome.

The truth is,

I'm not a particularly
skilled captain.

Navigation is foreign to me.

I have no gift for politics.

So what am I good at?

This is going to sound
absurd, but...

I make the men feel better
about themselves.

See, every man here
has served under a captain

who uses violence
to achieve an end...

to terrorize, to advertise.

When the men see that,
they can spot the lie.

They know that that captain is,
in some part of his soul,

sickened by his own actions.

And the lie infects
everyone who sees it.

But with me,
when the men see me slaughter

the crew of the Good Fortune,

when they see me
cut out a man's tongue

from his mouth for lying,

when they see me burn a boy alive
in front of his father's eyes,

they know,
they can see it in my eyes...

there's no lie there.

There's no secret remorse there.

I simply don't have it in me.

At any rate,
I hope that clarifies things

and illustrates
why it is only fair

to compensate my men fully
for their latest haul,

as it was an honest haul
taken by an honest captain.

I intend to be here some time.

It would be a shame
to make enemies of each other

over such a small
amount of money.

Get out of my place.

I say get rid of him.

It's very lucky.

I rather envy you.

I remember what it was like
the first time I met him.

There's a feeling one gets
when in the presence

of the truly great men.

It's something
quite indescribable.

I imagine you're
having it as we speak.

"Indescribable"
is a good word.

You question
my husband's motives?

Not on the least, ma'am,

though I may question
the outcome he's likely to achieve.

The game he is entering into
is a brutal and unforgiving one.

- Piracy?
- Politics.

What's your name, Lieutenant?

McGraw...
James McGraw.

Great men aren't made great
by politics, Lieutenant McGraw.

They aren't made great
by prudence or propriety.

They are,
every last one of them,

made great by one thing
and one thing only...

the relentless pursuit
of a better world.

The great men don't
give up that pursuit.

They don't know how.

And that is what makes them
invincible.

17 yea votes against 15 nays.

The crew has commuted
your sentences

by the narrowest of margins.

You will both be
transported back to Nassau,

at which point
you will be removed

from this ship permanently
and without severance.

There'll be no further
negotiation on the matter.

You were right,
for what it's worth.

Beg pardon?

If your interests and mine
were adverse to each other,

there's a good chance
I'd cross you to save myself.

Then why didn't you?

Because at the moment

I don't believe our interests
are adverse to each other.

I don't believe
you did any of this for a pardon,

or a passage to Nassau,

or to be able to walk away
from anything.

I think you intend
to reclaim your captaincy.

I think you intend
to take control of this ship.

And then I think you intend

to return to that beach,
armed to the teeth,

and seize every last
ounce of gold off of it.

And I think you're going to need
my help to do it.

Tell me I'm wrong.