All language subtitles for Poor Things (2023) eng

Ba.

Ba! Ba!

Ba, ba, ba.

Bye.
Ba, ba.

A pile of organs

without the spark of self
from a brain

or the pump of blood
from a heart.

Just a butcher's tray
for a Sunday lunch.

Now, who would like
to reconstruct the organs?

And who can tell human
from animal,

if there is a difference?

Come, come.

You did puzzles as children,
did you not?

Is it just me, or is it
devilishly hard to concentrate

when the monster's talking?

He is
an extraordinary surgeon.

His research
is groundbreaking.

His father founded this place.

Have you
mistaken yourself as included

in this conversation,
Max McCandles?

Your physical proximity to us
does not make it so.

Fuck off, old pal.
Get yourself a suit.

You really think that's
where the liver goes, sir?

Can I ask what is the purpose
of putting them back in, sir?

My amusement.

Mr. Max McCandles!

Walk with me
at the end of the lesson.

Your paper.

You liked it, sir?

It showed signs
of a conventional mind

straining hard
to almost touch mediocrity.

- Thank you.
- I need someone.

- An assistant on a project.
- I would love to.

Are you a religious man?
I believe in God.

Me or the deity?

Humorous, as you're
often known as the...

It is a joke
of my own making.

I do not need it
explicated for me.

The very devil's work.

Have you thought
of growing a beard, sir?

I look like
a big dog in a cravat.

Kids like dogs.

Uh, this job.

Yes. Come.

God! God.

God.

Hello.
Hello.

Bella, this is Mr. McCandles.

Hello, Bella.

Oh. Uh...

Bud.
Blood.

Bud.
Blood.

Blood.
Marvelous.

I'm fine. I'm fine.

What a very pretty retard.

She suffered
a brain injury.

I repaired it.

Her mental age and her body
are not quite synchronized.

Language is coming.

She is progressing
at an accelerated pace.

She is stunning.

I need
to meticulously note

her progression.

You will do this for me?

It would be my honor.

Wee!

Wee!

Yes.
It is exciting, Bella.

"Wee."
I believe she's doing...

Mrs. Prim!

Wee.

Do you not like kippers?

Uh, I am quite partial
to them, actually.

I find them to be, uh,
nice in the morning...

Bella cut, too?

Just dead ones for Bella.

Just dead.

Just dead.

Just dead.

Squish! Squish, squish.

Chog!

Chog!

Run!

Chog.

She... She gathers
15 words a day.

Hmm.

Her coordination
is unstable at best.

In the evenings,
there's progress.

Mm.

Her hair grows one inch
every two days.

- I have a hair diagram here.
- Excellent.

You may go. See you tomorrow.

Sir, where did she come from?

I believe your job
is collecting data.

When I add inane questions
to it, I'll let you know.

"And so, when they returned
from the wood,

"she was reunited
with her Mummy and Daddy.

"That night, for dinner,

"they ate cake
until they were sick.

"They were so happy
to be back together."

You me Daddy, God?

I...
Prim say you not be.

Bella nowhere girl.

Where that be? Nowhere?

You are an orphan.

Your parents died.

Then you cut parents up, God?

No.

They were my friends.

They were brave explorers,

and they were killed
in a landslide

in South America.

They pushed the boundaries
of what was known,

and they paid the price.

But that is the only way
to live, Bella.

They sent you to me
to care for you.

Dead?

I'm afraid so, my darling.

Poor Bella.

But love God.

Sleep here.

No.

Good night, dear Bella.

This, parents.

Peru, yes.

Why you pen book every nut?

I must note down
your nutritional intake.

How many?

Um...

Tell Bella other places.

That's Lisbon, Portugal.

The south of France. The Alps.

Australia.

Far away and dangerous,
in both people and animal.

Bella want look at world.

Just...

Bella.
Hmm?

Bella, I don't think
we're allowed up here.

Let's just...

Bella.

Bella.

No.

Bella, this is dangerous.

Bella.

No, Bella.

God.

Outside must go.

Outside? No, we work.

Cut fingers?

Candles take me.
Candles.

Of...
Of course I can. If...

No.

Yes. Out!

Has she ever been outside?

No.

I have created
a perfectly entertaining

and safe world for Bella.

Now.

Bella.
Now!

- Now!
- Bella.

You know, so many things
outside can kill you, Bella.

Kill dead?

Snakes, carriages,
sharp-faced birds,

earthquakes, inhalation
of toxic grass seeds.

Bella.

Bella.

Bella. Look.

Kill it.
What?

Why you funny thumbs, God?

Once when I was very small,

my father pinned my thumbs
into a small iron case

to see whether he could retard
the growth cycle of bones.

Now, the pain was so great,

to stop myself from weeping,

I would stare deeply
into my other fingers,

and simply by observation,

begin to parse out
the epidemiological elements.

When he came back,

to his surprise,
I was smiling.

Good God.

He was a man
of unconventional mind.

Time to go.

Uh, a storm approaches.

Why must you scare her so?

She's an experiment,

and I must control
the conditions

or our results
will not be pure. Mm!

Stop!
God, we go!

No, Bella.

Bella want walk in ice cream.

No.

Bella wants!

My face. People scared of God.

Laugh at God.

God lovely.

Like dog face.

Woof. Woof, woof!

Quite.

Stop! Me walk.
No!

No now? No never?

Just no.

Ahhh!

Bella!
No!

No! No! No!
Hey! Bella!

No!

Sorry. Sorry.
No!

No! No!

I'm sorry, my darling.

Mother of God.

What did you do to her?

Why are you hiding her?

Tell me what all this means,
or I'll go to the police.

I shall.
For it is a happy tale.

It is rare to get a body,

albeit dead,
but so close to life.

Rigor had not set in.

The body had hardly cooled.

No pulse.

But some electric currents,

so I could have
kept her alive.

But you didn't.

I knew nothing of the life
she had abandoned,

except she hated it so much
that she had chosen not to be,

and forever.

What would she feel

on being dragged

from her carefully chosen
blank eternity

and forced to be put
in one of our understaffed,

poorly-equipped madhouses,
reformatories or jails?

For in this Christian nation,

suicide is treated
as lunacy or crime.

Who was I to decide her fate?

But then there was also,
on my part, a recognition.

All my research
had come to this moment.

Fate had brought me
a dead body,

and a live infant.

It was obvious.

It was?

Take the infant's brain out

and put it
in the full-grown woman,

reanimate her, and watch.

Jesus!

She knows?

No.

Who was she?

No idea.

But would you rather
the world did not have Bella?

Mrs. Prim?
Hmm?

Bella discover happy
when she want.

Uh-huh.

You are a sour face,
but I fix you.

Close eyes.

Oh! No!

Just wait. It takes a moment.

She grabbed my hairy business.

She's sick!

Bella.

Bella have discover
something I must share.

Watch.

- What if put cucumber in me?
- No.

Bella! Bella!

Cease working yourself
immediately.

What?

In polite society,
that is not done.

Oh.

Oh.

Just do not.

What... is that?

My father took out
my oxyntic and pyloric glands,

so I must make
my own gastric juices.

Why in God's name
would he do that?

To discover
what no one knew.

Turns out we need them.
Ideally.

Bella,

you have not eaten.

Do not.

Good night.

'Night.

You know,

I'm actually something
of a romantic, Max.

What?

I believe I see love
between you and Bella.

Uh, I... She is...

Perhaps you should marry her.

What?

I think she loves you.

Oh.

I've seen people
look at each other with love,

as an observer.

Not the subject, of course.
I see it.

You do?

I, um...

I do have feelings for her.

So, you would?

Take Bella out.

Bella...

Um...

I...

Feel funny?

Um...
Do Bella.

I was wondering

if perhaps
you were raising her

to be your mistress.

A dark thought unworthy of me,
I know.

So, you are not laying
with her?

Spermatic ejaculation can only
induce homeostasis in me

if accompanied
by prolonged stimulation

of higher nerve centers

whose pressure
on the ductless glands

changes the chemistry
of my blood

not for a few
spasmodic minutes,

but for many days.

What?

I am a eunuch
and can't fuck her.

To get a sexual response
from my body

would take the same amount
of electricity

as runs North London.

Mm-hmm.
Besides, my paternal feelings

seem to outweigh
my sexual thoughts.

I apologize
for my own dark thoughts.

Not dark at all.

Men's, indeed all sexuality,
is basically immoral.

Not all, sir.

Do you wish
to marry her or not?

I wish to marry you.
Be my wife.

Let us touch
each other's genital pieces.

Uh... No. No.

I do not wish
to take advantage of you.

You are special.

When we are wed.

One condition.

She must desire it also,
I understand.

Two conditions, then.

That one you said,

and you must live here
with me, always.

I will have
a legal agreement drawn up.

Hmm.

Curious contract.

There are several
spelling errors.

Oh. Immaterial to
the legal bindingness of it,

I assure you.

Must be quite a woman
to warrant such binding.

If you'll excuse me,
I need to use the facilities.

Are you five years old that
you can't hold your water?

Weak bladder, sir.

Like my father before me
and his before him.

You may have prostate cancer.
Look into it.

Will do.

Ms. Bella Baxter, as per
your contract, no doubt.

Good afternoon, visiting man.

Want my hat?

Would it suit me?

Yes.

It is foolish good.

I had to meet this woman
who would inspire

such a contract of marriage
that imprisons her.

What you mean?

You shall live here,

travel with Mr. Max McCandles
and Baxter abroad,

but not go forth in the city.

I see.

They love me tight.

I understand why.

I have to pinch you,
to see if you are real.

You will not... Ah.

Who is you?

Mr. Duncan Wedderburn.

Open.

How you get up here?

Shh.

I climbed.

You were watch me long?

Not long.

You did not see me
working on myself

to get happiness, did you?

It is not polites, I know.

Do not care
for polite society.

It's fucking boring.

Destroys one's soul.

God not believe in soul.

I think God's the actual
author of the soul idea.

Godwin Baxter?

That burnt dog.

What is that story?

You are a prisoner
and I aim to free you.

Something in you,
some hungry being,

hungry for experience,
freedom, touch.

To see the unknown
and know it.

So, why am I here, you ask?

I'm going to Lisbon on Friday.
I'd like you to come.

Lisbon of Portugal?

That is the Lisbon I speak of.

God never allow it.

That's why I'm not asking him.

I'm asking you.

Bella not safe with you,
I think.

You are absolutely... not.

May I have a moment
of value time, dear God?

Of course, Bella.

I wanted to tell you big news.

Bella is dizzy with excite.

What is it?

Tonight, at midnight,

I secretly run away
with one Duncan Wedderburn.

What?

You will wish to stop me.

I shall stop you.

You hold Bella too tight.

I must set forth into waters.

We can travel.

You, me, and Max whom,
I will remind you,

you are betrothed to.

I will marry Max,

as he seems right for that,

but first, I shall adventure
on Duncan Wedderburn

who, I think,
cares little of damage to me,

but will be interesting
as well.

I can't let you go.

Kiss me and set me forth.

If you do not,

Bella's insides
shall turn rotten with hate.

Hate?
Hate.

Unpack those bags, Prim.

Godwin has told me your plan.

I do not blame you, Bella.

That man is a cad and a rake.

He has insidious ways

of getting under
a naive woman's skin.

It is mostly his eyes on mine.

And his hands
when between Bella's legs

and whisper words I can't hear

but heat in my body.

Jesus, Bella.

We are engaged.
I love you.

And when I return,
we marriage,

and be happy as two doves
on a branch.

You think I need travel hat?
No!

This will not do.

It cannot!

I'll see
to this man myself.

I will beat
his handsome face

into a porridge
of blood and bones!

Max, you are flushed,

and I am too at sight
of different Max.

I apologize, but I will not
let a man

that I know has nothing
but ill intent in his mind

and nothing for you
in his heart trick you.

I will smash
his fucking head in.

Mm.

Bella? It...

Bella.

Goodbye,
later dove.

I will see you
after grand adventure.

God?

She's gone.

I am having port
for breakfast.

It is strangely delicious.

Why did you not stop her?

She is a being
of free will.

She's now
out there. Alone.

She will be fine.

I'm a fool.
I should have stopped her.

We are men
of science.

This emotionality
is unseemly.

I just hope
she's all right.

You are
the most beautiful woman

I've ever seen.

I will not lie,
I have been with many.

Mrs. Prim said
you were wolf

with scent
of hundred women on you.

She undersells it.

Okay. Oysters.

Have you
had them before?

I have not.

Shuck, chuck
and bubble.

Mm.

Mm.

Rollicking.

Rollicking.

Wait. Bella.

So, nuns and monks

would starch their clothes
with egg whites

and, with the yolks,
make these tarts.

Now, how to eat them?

I will guess
through the mouth.

They must not be eaten dainty flake
by dainty flake,

but inhaled with gusto,
like life itself.

Incredible.

Who made these?
We need more.

No more. One's enough.
Any more is too much.

It's siesta time.

What is siesta?

Why do people
not just do this

all the time?

Well, at the risk
of being immodest,

you've just been thrice fucked
by the very best.

It's probable no other man

would ever bring you
to the raptures I have.

I feel bad for you.

Well, then it will just be you
I do furious jumping with.

Furious jumping?

I love that.

I'm rested.

Let us go again.

Again?

Unfortunately,

even I have my limits.

Men cannot keep coming back
for more.

It is a physiological
problem?

A weakness in men?

Mm... Well...

Perhaps so.

You'd be advised,
if it's not too late,

not to fall
in love with me.

I have very little to offer

in the way
of constancy.

Just adventure.

I see.

Let us sleep.

Taxi, madam?

Good evening...

Duncan Wedderburn.

Bella, where were you?
You disappeared.

I did not.

Nobody can
just disappear.

What?

Can they?
Disappear?

No, of course not.

What the fuck
are you talking...

Where were you?

I wanted a tart and then an adventure
befell me.

I did not know how to return
and then I heard it.

The tram.

I will walk to the noise,
and I found it.

Amazement to Bella.

Explorer bloods in me.

Bella, it's dangerous
to go out without me.

I have
adventured it

and found nothing
but sugar and violence.

It is most charming.

I am fine.

Now, I must lie down and you
must lie down on top of me

and do more
furious jumping.

Kitty.

Did you see the new show
in London by Wilde?

Marvelously witty.

I loved it.

"A handbag."

Bella.

What?

Why I keep it in my mouth
if it is revolting?

I have said that before
to Gerald.

- If you catch my drift.
- Uh...

You are wicked.

Oh. Because
you mean his penis.

Duncan's can sometimes
be salty.

Good God, Bella.

I must go punch
that baby.

Bella.

Your behavior
is unconscionable.

Will you behave?

The food
was cacking my throat,

the baby annoying,

and the woman
boring with words.

You will rejoin
the table

and will confine yourself
to the following three phrases,

"How marvelous!",
"Delighted"

and "How did they make
the pastry so crisp?" Yes?

You are hurting Bella.

Sorry.

Reason does
not penetrate.

Let us go.

Ow.

Are you enjoying Lisbon,
Bella?

Delighted.

Kitty, how is
your dear father?

He's very unwell.

I fear he will not see
the year out.

Oh.
How marvelous.

How did they get
the pastry so crisp?

Good God.

What is it?

From her.

"Me good. Lisbon.

"Sugar tart
lick me all day."

At least I hope that's
all one sentence, anyway.

Do you think they're...
Fucking?

Yes.

Also,

fellating a tram.

Does your head ache too,
Duncan Wedderburn?

And I also am starving
for dinner.

Where the fuck
were you?

Victoria Blessington?

I haven't seen you
for years.

And you still have not,

as I am Bella Baxter,

strange feathered lady.

I apologize.
I could've sworn you were she.

Hmm.

Right.

Shall we?

The steak, the fish,

little caramel
things in pots

that old spotted people
over there have.

I don't want
caramel in pots.

Of course not.
That was all for Bella.

Order at your whim.

You are cross at Bella's
outings and adventures.

And yet we must discover
by whim,

as spoken by Duncan Wedderburn
to Bella Baxter,

day one of Lisbon
love affair.

Touche.

Understand me never lived
outside God's house.

What?

So, Bella so much
to discover,

and your sad face

makes me discover
angry feelings for you.

Right.

I have become
the very thing I hate,

a grasping succubus
of a lover.

I've pried many of them off me
and now I'm it.

Fuck!

You, like me, are a creature
of freedom in the moments.

What do you keep
doing that for?

A man over there
repeated blinks at me.

I blink back.

For polites,
I think.

We are going to dance in town.
Please join us.

I have never
danced in town.

- Duncan!
- Can't!

You're quite mad.

Stop talking as your sounds
make Bella angry!

I will not
stop talking.

If I have something
to say, I'll...

Ouch.

All right.

What's this?

Oh.

A man was
teaching me chess,

and he said he thought
I would probably have

the softest skin
he had ever touched.

And I said, if I did,

it would be
the inner thighs to test,

as that is where the epidermis
is at its most fine.

So we tested,

and it was
the softest ever.

I wondered if perhaps
they're not equal in softitude.

Indeed they were not.

So I made sure to note it,
remembering which was which.

What of the tongue play
you were about to perform?

Is that
not happening?

You...

You are troubled.

Did he lie
with you?

No, we were
against a wall.

Did you
furious jump him?

No...

...he just fast-licked
my clitoris.

I had the heat
that needed release,

so at my request,
it was.

You, too, may
tongue play me,

so I'm not understanding
this complicated feeling.

Are you now crying?

What a confusing person
you are, Duncan Wedderburn.

A liver.

Mm. A small incision

is all that is needed.

I was chloroforming goats
all morning.

I may have ingested
too much.

I am going to venture
to suggest

you are upset
by Bella's absence.

The liters of port,

the sobbing
I hear at night.

Good God, man!
You prattle like an imbecile.

She is gone!

I am a man
of science.

I just need to engage in,
and continue, the project.

That is all. I must go on
to the next thing.

Our feelings
must be put aside.

Do you think my father
could have branded me

with hot irons on the genitals
the way he did

if he could not put science
and progress first?

Branded you?

Let us find a body.

A... A what?

Hello. Good morning.

Good morning, darling.

I haven't been very supportive
of your adventurous spirit.

So I have
a surprise for you.

Get in.

We changed hotels?
Look out the window, Bella.

We're on boat?
Indeed.

You aim to trap
Bella at sea.

I aim to give you
a new adventure.

I suppose it's true
you'll be easier to find.

Come, disrobe me.

Ride me.

And we'll then have
cocktails on foredeck.

Bella.

Bella.

Bella.

Bella!

Blue. Blue. Blue.

Shit on me?

Fucker!

Madam.

When do we stop?

Athens. Three days.

That woman's
on fire, look.

I know you're
upset with me.

Forgive my kidnapping of you,
but it was for love.

A romantic jape.
Don't be such a cunt about it.

I want a drink.
Of course, my darling.

The ship is fun,
a whole world to explore.

Do you love me?
I love you.

Describe the elements
I should be looking for

within myself
to be sure.

You just feel it or not.

So it is no evidence base,
as God would say.

So how judge it
empirically?

What the fuck are you talking about?
Who are you?

You don't know
what bananas are,

you've never heard
of chess,

and yet you know
what "empirically" means.

Bella wants a drink.
I said twice now.

I've never felt
anything like this.

Is this true
for you?

I suppose,
empirically it is.

I'm out of ink.

Oh.

Then ink you shall have,
my love.

Hello,
interesting older lady.

I must touch
your hair.

I also noticed
your hair.

Just like silk on a translucent,
glowing egg.

That is fancy words
that excite me somehow.

I saw you're with handsome
over there.

White teeth
and a hard cock.

Duncan Wedderburn.

His teeth are also hard.
His penis is also white.

Good lay, I hope.
He is my only.

But I find him to elicit
exceptional sensations

throughout my whole body
that leave me yelping happily.

I also wish to dash his body, form,
cadaver, into the sea.

Is this man
jumping on your body?

No, he is not.

I haven't been bedded
in 20 years.

What?

That is terrible.

It doesn't
concern me greatly.

As years
have passed,

what's in between my ears
is my big concern.

What's in between
my legs...

much less so.

A desperate rationalization,
Martha.

Oh, this
is Harry Astley.

Don't take what he says
too much to heart.

He's a cynic.

Madam.

I am Bella Baxter.

I do not know
what this "cynic" is.

Bella.

Ink.

Duncan Wedderburn, I have made friends,
colleagues, comrades.

Harry Astley.

This is Martha.

She is my new friend who has
not been fucked in 20 years.

Is that not
astonishment?

I hope you use your hand
between your legs

to keep yourself happy.

Good God, Bella,
you cannot speak like this.

Polites of society.
I forgot.

Polite society

- will destroy you.
- It will?

Yeah, there...
there's some truth to that.

We all agreed on that.

As to your enquiry on my hand.

Occasionally, yes.

That is much
reassuring news.

We shall all dine together.
Well, actually...

We are all on a ship
and cannot escape,

and there is a world
to enjoy, traverse, circumnavigate.

Or can she not have friends,
Mr. Wedderburn?

Delighted.

Marry me.

What?

I meant to
throw you aside.

A few months and send you packing,
but I cannot.

Say you'll
marry me.

No one's ever captured my heart.
You have.

It is tricky,

as I am engaged
to Mr. Max McCandles.

What?

My hand has taken
by another.

It is a saying I heard,
but did not understand.

You do not take just the hand,
but all, do you not?

You ran away
with me from him.

A recounting
of events,

the point of which
is elusive to me.

You chose me
over him.

For now.

For fun.

I'll fucking
throw you overboard!

So you wish to marry me
or kill me?

Is that the proposal?
No.

Going to the casino.

Uh, that's fine.

She is
coming along.

Let's try again.

Gross motor skills
will develop slowly,

but you will
progress fast.

Felicity.

Not that fast.

I am reading Emerson.

He speaks about
the improvement of men.

I do not know why he does not give
advice to women.

Perhaps he does
not know any.

Try and read
Goethe.

Philosophy is a waste of time,
Bella.

Really?
Say more.

No, no, Harry,
you wretch.

It is integral.

People and society
can be improved.

It is the goal
of all to improve,

advance, progress, grow.

I know this in me,

and I am sure
I am indicative of all.

Trust me, you are definitely unique,
Bella, in all ways.

But this improvement
through philosophy

is people trying
to run away

from the fact that we are all
cruel beasts.

Born that way,
die that way.

It is a dark view
of things, Harry.

Bella...

let us take
the air...

in our cabin.

But these two
are fighting,

and ideas are banging around
in Bella's head and heart

like lights in a storm.

Oh.

You're always
reading now, Bella.

You're losing some of
your adorable way of speaking.

I am
a changingable feast,

as are all of we.

Apparently
according to Emerson,

disagreed with by Harry.

Come, come.
Just come.

You are in my sun.

What?

Come.

Mm-mm.
Busy drinking heavily.

Busy losing heavily.

I must go
meet Martha.

Martha.

She is the problem.

I'll throw that perfumed bag
of flesh overboard.

I dare you.

Martha!

Where is she?

Where are you, fuck.

Where is she?

Where are you going?
She's going over the side.

Oh, marvelous!

I never imagined
being murdered.

How dramatic.

Well, she seems
happy to die.

I'm sorry for getting
in your way.

Oh!

Oh!

Exciting.

Oh... Whoa, whoa, whoa...

Oh! Ooh, ooh.

Oh. Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa...

Hyah.

I'll be in the bar.

You have
made me think, cogitate,

perambulate on ideas
that are wrong,

erroneous
and nonsensically annoying

that lead me
not to sleep.

So...

You say all are cruel.

And I disagree, disavow,

and say no not.

But when with Duncan,

the cruel
just bubbles up in me.

That shows good judgment.

He is a pretty moron.

No.

I do not wish to be cruel.

I must improve
this aspect of myself.

You don't know the world.

And you fear it.

I do not fear it.

Do you want to see
what the world is really like?

I'll show you.

Yes.

Of course.

Do you hear that?

What is it?

Lot of dead babies.
Oh.

Must be hot.

We must go help them.

How will we do that?

We go down there,

they'll quite rightfully
rope us, rob us, and rape us.

And if they were here
and we were there,

we'd do the same to them.

Bella.

Bella.

Bella.

We are casting off,
ma'am.

But I have to go back.

I... I must give this money
to the poor near the hotel,

in what they call a slum.

We're staying
ashore, ma'am.

We could take care
of that for you.

You can?
Of course.

It is generous of you.

They need money.

Everyone does.

Thank you.

You! Get me the captain.

Now we'll find
this fucking thief.

Bella!

We've been robbed!

I... I won.

I won everything

like never before.

And now it's gone.

You've not been robbed.

I took it.
For what?

I took it.

I'm so tired.

Or maybe just my spirit is.

My soul has been buckled,
crumpled,

flattened, Duncan Wedderburn,

by the sights I have seen.

So, no need
for the captain then, sir?

Fuck off before
I break all your teeth.

Indeed, sir.

Where is it?

You hid it for safety.

I was drunk and foolishly
left it everywhere.

What a relief.

I did not hide it.

I gave it to those poor people
out there.

Money is its own form
of sickness,

and all the scarcity of it.

And who am I,

lying in a feather bed,

while dead babies

lie in a ditch?

Duncan.

You what?

I am expecting
a hug of solace.

You...

I need to offer something
to the world.

And yet I have nothing.

Except some money.

It is a bad day
for Bella Baxter.

Where is my fucking money?

I just told you.

I gave it away to the poor.

I thought
I told you to fuck off!

The steward informs me

that you may not have
sufficient funds

to make good
your account, sir.

- Well, I...
- That is probably true.

I gave it all to some nice men

to pass on

to the slum poor.

You'll be put ashore
at the next port

and confined to crew's rations
until then, sir.

Good evening.
How dare you?

"Dead, blind babies

"bit Harry.

"My mouth

"was full of blood."

Poor Bella.

She is a ruin.

- How's your hand?
- It's fine.

I'm sorry.

You were trying
to help me understand.

No. I actually
wanted to hurt you.

Couldn't bear to see

such dumb, beautiful happiness
in someone.

It was cruel of me.

I am not sorry.

If I know the world,
I can improve it.

You can't.

That is the real point.

Don't accept the lie
of religion,

socialism,

capitalism.

We are a fucked species.

Know it. Hope is smashable.

Realism is not.

Protect yourself
with the truth.

I realize
what you are now, Harry.

Just a broken little boy

who cannot bear
the pain of the world.

I suppose so.

Goodbye, Harry.

We get thrown off
in Marseille.

Why do you stay with him?

I always think
it will be better.

'Course you do.

I have heard great things
of the beauty of Paris.

I'll fucking kick
your dog to death.

Fucking...

Paris with no money.

What do you suggest
we do, Bella?

I will get us a hotel.

Do not worry.

Uh-huh. With what?
We have no money.

Is it not
an interesting experiment?

We have nothing.

How will we live now?
I don't know!

Exactly,
that is the experiment.

We are now the poor.

Also, many adventurers
have faced these odds.

Robinson Crusoe, for example.

Selfish, thoughtless,
careless bitch.

I'm not thoughtless, Duncan.

And while it is true
my ability

to think things through to
the logical conclusions is not

strong,

I did help
those suffering people.

I have ruined us,

as you pointed out,

but I do believe my actions
come from a good place.

Shut the fuck up.

I will get us a hotel.

Good afternoon, madam.

Good day, my fresh,
darling English Rose.

Is this a hotel?

We have rooms.

Are you looking for work?

How much is a room?

I'll charge you
10 francs an hour.

You charge them 30.

Everyone's happy.

I see.

Monsieur Chapelle.

Fresh from London.

Enchante. Hello.

Merci.

So, off you go.

At this point, I am confused.

You're not here to work?

Oh, come on.

Lie with him,
let him cock you a bit

and make some nice francs.

I see.

He would pay me for this?

Yes.

If you need money,

it is the shortest route
to it.

I have never been cocked
by another man,

and yet have wondered on that.

And am in need of funds.

It is, I believe,
a confluence of circumstances

I regard as almost fate-like.

Let us do this.

Room 16.

What is your name?

Mysterious.

Should we warm me up
a bit...

Oh.

Merci.

Good day, sir.

Eclair au chocolat?

I've come into some money
and some enlightenment.

You stole it?

You've always said you're
the best bedman in the world,

and I have never
known another,

so I knew not
whether this was true.

But now I do.

And he was terrible

and made ungodly noises
as he thrust himself into me.

And a mere three thrusts,
Duncan Wedderburn,

was all he could manage.

I stifled a laugh,

out of polites, of course.

I took his money.
I thanked him.

I laughed all the way
to buy us these eclairs,

and I thought so fondly,

remembering the fierce
sweaty nights of ours.

You fucked for money?

And as an experiment.

And it is good
for our relationship

as it gladdens my heart
toward you.

My heart has been a bit dim

on your weepy,
sweary person lately.

You are a monster.
A whore and a monster.

A demon sent from hell

to rip my spirit to shreds.

To punish my tiny sins

with a tsunami of destruction.

To take my heart
and pull it like taffy

to ruin me.

I look at you, and I see
nothing but ugliness.

That last bit was uncalled for
and makes no sense,

as your odes to my beauty
have been boring

but constant.

And the simple act

of letting a strange man
ride on me

has erased all that?

Fuck!

You whored yourself.

Which you are now going
to explain to me is bad.

Can I never win with you?

It is the worst thing
women can do.

We should definitely
never marry.

I am a flawed,
experimenting person

and I will need a husband with
a more forgiving disposition.

Cunt!

I can now see
you are not that.

Our adventure is clearly over.

I shall book you
a passage back to London.

You had money

this whole time?

It is God's money.

For emergencies.

It has been a fucking
emergency for weeks now!

I believed in you
the whole time,

that you would rise
to the occasion.

But now I see
that was a mistake,

and there's clearly
something broken in you.

You broke
that something in me!

I feel this conversation
has become circular.

Cunt!

Madam Swiney,
I have examined my situation.

I need sex and money.

I could take a lover,

another Wedderburn
who would keep me

but may require
an awful lot of attention.

Or else
it's 20 minutes at a time,

and the rest of my day
is free to study on the world

and the improvement of it.

Hence, I seek employment

at your musty-smelling
establishment

of good-time fornication.

A woman plotting
her course to freedom.

How delightful.

Come.

Ah, Monsieur Saveur.

A filet mignon.

A prime cut.

Merci.

Bella.

Say "formidable" at the end.

House rules.

Is that smell you?

Formidable.

Merci.

For the smell.

And tea.
Just because tea is nice.

Merci.

It was brutal

in a strangely
not unpleasant way.

Pamphlet.

Read.
What is that?

Une personne qui veut...

Change the world.

Make it better.
A better world.

Then I am that too.

Madam Swiney,

this lineup system,

you really expect me
to go upstairs with a man

even if I find him distasteful

and therefore am sad

when I let him
furious jump me?

That is the way it is,
my darling.

Gosh, you look pretty.

How it agrees with you
to be ravaged.

I suppose so.

Oui.

Oui, monsieur Mersault.
Bella.

So, would you not prefer it
if the women chose,

as it would be a sign
of enthusiasm toward you?

Um, you wouldn't have
the vague sense

that they are
in a state of horror

when you jump them.

Bella is new
and may have a mental illness.

As God, my father, says,

it is only the way it is until
we discover the new way it is,

and then that is the way it is

until we discover
the new way it is,

and so it goes until the world
is no longer flat,

electricity lights the night,

and shoes are no longer
tied with ribbons.

As a socialist,
I agree entirely.

Formidable.

Toinette, you have such
a clever mouth.

Monsieur Mersault
will enjoy it for free.

Go. Now.

Bella, a moment in my office.

You have the most
delicious looking lobes.

Thank you.

I must...

Oh, I am sorry. I drew blood.

Here.

I sometimes give in to myself

when I see beauty,
young beauty.

For one day, my dear,

you will be a wrinkled,
old husk.

And no one will want you
either to pay you for it

or to have it for free.

I still believe everyone would
be happier if we could choose.

An idealist.

Like me.

How delightful you are.

But we must give in
to the demands

of the world sometimes.

Grapple with it,
try to defeat it.

So you believe as me?
Of course.

But some men enjoy
that you do not like it.

What?

That is...
Sick.

But good business.

Come with me.

My grandchild.

Sick and poorly,
and requiring much doctoring.

My choice of giving you choice
will jeopardize the business.

Her health. Her life.

Do you want that, Bella?
Of course not.

You don't? You're so lovely.

I thought you were going
for my lobes.

We must work.

We must make money.

But more than that,
we must experience everything,

not just the good.

But degradation,
horror, sadness...

This makes us whole, Bella.

Makes us people of substance,

not flighty,
untouched children.

Then we can know the world.

And when we know the world,

the world is ours.

I want that.

Now,

go and fuck someone

and bring me 10 francs.

First, I suggest a short quiz.

A quiz?

You tell me
a childhood memory.

Then I tell a joke. Toc toc.

Then a quick sniff,

and if necessary,
a quick douse in lavender oil.

And all of this
will enhance the experience,

making it formidable.

Toc toc.

Toc toc.

Non, I tell the joke.

You the memory.

Mm.
Le souvenir.

When you were
little in Greece,

you fell
from your bicycle?

Oui.

Mm.

Blood.
Down my leg.

Mm.

"Joie." Joy?

You watched the blood
with joy.

Oui.
Knock, knock.

Qui c'est?
Fromage.

Fromage qui?

Cheese to meet you.

You know it.

You smell okay.

Let us fuck.

God gave you a gift,
my friend.

Very inelegant work.

This is what you do
when you're homesick?

You wish what?

My boys are of an age
for education. Sexual.

I will demonstrate.

I see.

At times.

Shall I lay,
bend, astride?

- Let's start simple, please.
- Mm.

To aid things along,

- a finger in the arse.
- No.

Or a slight choking
may do it.

Go home!

Bella!

Madam Swiney
was right.

I am discovering parts of myself
hitherto unknown.

It is a way
to look at it.

The variety of desires
being made manifest is fascinating.

Have you had the man

who puts a wedge
of pineapple in your mouth

and covers you
in dust?

Bella.

I'm almost ready
to forgive you.

I've booked
our berths home,

and I've told Mother
to prepare our wedding bed.

Did you fuck that guy
with hooks for hands?

You did. I know!

I beat the tar
out of that guy.

Duncan. I thought you left.

Back to the ship,
but started to ache and vomit,

so I'm here to save you.

Hello, Duncan.

Go home, Duncan.

Our time has ended.

I look at you
and feel nothing

but the lingering question
of how did I ever want you?

Oh...

And we must go
to the meeting of socialists.

You're whores.

We are our own means
of production.

Go away.

Foot.

Paint, foot.

Very good.

Language is slow
but improving.

Paint. Foot.

Genius.

Can you not be
so cruel to her?

I made a mistake
with Bella.

I allowed feelings
to develop.

There are none for her.

She is no different
to the chicken dog.

Foot.

It is better
this way, perhaps,

and gives some insight into
my father's coolness to me.

It was a necessity
of science.

Good God, man.

Foot.
I do not expect you

to understand,
village doctor.

By the way,
I need you to operate on me.

Shall I put a beating heart
in your monstrous form?

If you have time

while taking...

this out.

I'll remove some cysts
from around the tumor.

No need.
You may close me up.

It has spread.
I see tiny polyps.

I am dying.

How to break it to the patient, eh?

Baxter...

Do not cry into the wound!

You'll kill me faster
with sepsis.

Quiet now.

And close me up.

Find her.

I am closed.

Hot chocolate,
my dear.

And pain au chocolat.

You are my favorite.

I have heard you say that
to the others.

We are a machine you feed

with compliments
and chocolate.

You are my children
I feed with love.

Something terrible
has happened, Swiney.

I feel almost nothing.

My empathy is creeping
toward what I would describe

as contemptuous rage.

This is fabulous.

It is?

You're in the dark period.

Before light and wisdom
come to you.

You must forge through it,

and once on the other side,

you will be grateful
to this moment,

but you must keep going.

I see.

You've got a baby scar.

Mine is with ma maman.

I don't have one.

It is an accident scar.

But you're not the first
to have made the mistake.

Why lie?

I'm not lying.

My Godwin told me himself.

Wedderburn.

Good day, sir.

You wrote
to Mr. Godwin Baxter.

He has sent a demon
at large into the world.

The devil's wrapped
in an alluring body

that cannot be satiated,

and a mind that picks
people apart stitch by stitch

like a bloodied
and burned rag doll

shat out
of an elephant's arse.

Bella.

Where is she?

Who are you?

I'm her fiance, sir.

Obviously, things did not
end well between you.

Did not?

She destroyed me.

Well, we're all masters
of our own ship, sir.

There's that.

I do not like you
or your words.

That Godwin Baxter.

He knew,
and he set her on to me.

He trapped me.

Where is she?

Would not wish her
on my worst enemy.

I shall save you
from her, sir.

Forgive my frustration.
Just tell me.

It does not hurt.

I have no insides.

She hollowed me out.

My soul. My bank account!

I am a bug! A shell!

Shall we sing?

♪ Oh, we are sailors... ♪

It doesn't...

Doesn't hurt.

I do not wish it
to be like this.

You force my hand.

"We're all
masters of our own ship."

You cunting
cunt-faced deadshit.

Please.

I ask you
as politely as I can.

Where is she?

Merci.

The whore is back.

- God?
- Bella!

Max wrote me.

You are ill?
I am not. I am dying.

A subtle difference,

but one I take seriously
as a physician.

You are a sight
and a good one.

You cannot die.

Empirical data
says different.

I missed you.

I now have to lie down.

It is not all sunshine
I bring.

I also bring beady eyes
and hard questions.

Did I have a baby in me?

And if so, where is it?

I see.

Well, technically,
you are your baby.

And also, I suppose
you are your mother.

And also neither.

No memory survives.

No experiences survive.

What do you mean
I am mother and daughter?

You knew and did not tell.

I... did not see
good reason to.

And were too cowardly to.

A bit of that as well.

I wanted
to be with you,

and I was not sure
you would even understand.

And Baxter kind of makes one
a prisoner to him.

And... And I am...

I'm sorry.

Bam.

Bam.

Bam.

Bam.

Bam.

Bam.

Bam.

Who is this?

♪ Bell whore
Bell whore ♪

I see you've
introduced me then, Prim.

I like this one though.
♪ Bell whore ♪

That's enough now,
Felicity...

- ♪ Bell whore ♪
- Ah, f...

Fucker.

Another one?

We missed you.

Monsters.

Oh, fucking hell.

♪ Bell whore ♪

♪ Bell whore ♪

It is hard
to be in the position

where one wants to hit someone

who is already
in obvious pain.

It is a conundrum
for sure.

Would you rather be
a gray slab of flesh

with a fishhook
in your nose?

I will feel good for a second,
but bad for longer, so...

I really had a fishhook
in my nose?

You did.

So, I am your creation...

as is the other one.

Neither of you are that.

She wanders the halls
with a hammer and a song,

and that is not my doing.

And I read your cards
and letters home

and watched you fearlessly create
Bella Baxter

with wonder.

I am finding
being alive fascinating,

so I'll forgive you the act,

but always hate the lies
and trapping that followed.

Understood.

Good to see you.

You too.

Anger, confusion,
and brain dissonance aside,

I missed you.

I arrived home, and I smelled
the formaldehyde,

and I knew what is next.

I will be a doctor.

My surgery is yours.

My father once told me,

always carve with compassion.

He was a fucking idiot.

But it's not bad advice.

He does not
have long.

I know.

You've not mentioned
our betrothal.

Um...

You were much younger.

There is no bind.

I was mesmerized by you,
and Baxter took advantage.

So, you are mesmerized
no more?

I am still mesmerized.

I've been a whore,
you understand?

Mm.
Cocks for money inside me.

You okay
with that?

Does the whoring thing
challenge the desire

for ownership
that men have?

Wedderburn became
much weepy and sweary

when he discovered
my whoring.

I find myself merely jealous
of the men's time with you

rather than any moral
aspersion against you.

It is your body,
Bella Baxter.

Yours to give freely.

I generally charged 30 francs.

Well, that seems low.

Do you believe
people improvable, Max?

I do.

Just as a human body
can be cured of illness,

so can men and women
be cured of aspect.

Will you marry me,
Max McCandles?

I will.

We will need less of
your tongue in the future,

but overall,
most agreeable.

Mm. I...
I will take that note.

And have you been checked
for, um, disease?

I have not,
but I shall.

I'm enjoying this
practical love we have.

Um, but I... I assure you
mine is also passionate.

You are adorable.

You always were.

God, you are walking.

I have taken
five milligrams of heroin

through the toes
for pain,

amphetamines
for energy,

and cocaine because
I am partial to cocaine.

I've come here to walk you
down the aisle.

And so, by the powers
vested in me by the church,

I shall solemnize
this union.

Do you, Bella Baxter,
take this man as your husband?

Did we miss the part about
anyone objecting to this?

Or has that been removed

in some kind
of faux modernization

of the catechism?

Hello, Victoria.

You look well.

Do you refer to me, sir?

A man doesn't normally
introduce himself to his wife.

But if I must...

He is the God of it.

I do not know if he's
in her power or she in his.

'Tis Devil's work at hand.
Look!

He coughs not air
as a normal man but blood.

He has cancer,
you fucking idiot.

Oh.

Duncan.

Do not lay
your eyes on me, demon!

As I was saying,
General Alfred Blessington.

"Alfie" to you.

You really do not know me?

When Mr. Wedderburn
put your photo in the paper...

I remembered
that old bird in the hotel

called you
Victoria Blessington,

and I pieced this diabolical fuckfest
of a puzzle together.

- You are...
- Your dear Alfie.

You left in a state of some
mental addlement and hysteria

over your pregnancy.

On the discovery
of your absence,

I felt disemboweled.

I have disemboweled men
on the field of battle,

and I always imagined a dull,
hollow throbbing,

and that is what
it was like.

There's also a stench,

but that does not apply
as a metaphor here.

But here you are,
my darling.

Here you are.

God.

I have no recollection of you.

I am Bella Baxter.

Hurtful.

But perhaps
you've hit your head,

and these men have clearly
taken advantage of you.

Please go, sir.

- You were my husband?
- Your dear Alfie.

Bella, I'm sorry.

Actually, I would like to go.

What?
Bella?

You have a carriage, sir?

Yes.

Let us go then.

Bella!

Let me go, God.

Max, you will
not stop me.

It is good to have
you back, Victoria.

The servants and I
have not been getting along.

I fear an uprising.

You remember
David, darling?

Allison, look who's back.

You know me?

Tell me about myself.

Was I nice?

Eat.

All your favorites.

Kippers, goose,

tongue, champagne.

I've missed you.

What was the root
of the unhappiness?

What drove her
to leap off the bridge?

You hated the baby.

You called it "the monster."

I see.

I have noticed
a lack of maternal instinct.

And yet I'm happy
to have you home.

How did we meet?

At a ball.

Why did we like
each other?

We shared a love
of good times.

Watch.

Allison, soup!

Rex!

Fuck!
Allison,

we'll have some cheese
when you can.

A love of cruelty?
Mm.

I was not a kind person,
it seems.

Kind? You would never
be so dull, Victoria.

Appalling idea.

Wedderburn says
you were a whore.

- I suspect that was part...
- I was.

In Paris.

I tired of it,
but it was fascinating.

Right.

These kippers
are strangely delicious.

Vinegary or something.

Marriage
is a constant challenge.

Some, we bend to,
some we bend to us.

I will try to
forgive you for the whoring.

Your sexual hysteria
was often out of hand.

And for the killing
of our unborn child.

In fact, when I list the ways
you've wronged me,

Jesus Christ himself

would probably
beat your head in with a bat.

You're blessed
with a forgiving husband.

I've not wronged you, Alfie,

as I do not know you.

Well, you're in luck as
I've had a lot of experience

in the field with amnesia.

Either men who wish to forget
where they were,

or a mortar exploded nearby,

ringing their cranium
like a church bell.

I suggest we stick close to
the house for several months,

maybe a year.

Until you've made
a full recovery.

I will leave at my leisure,

but I am flattered
by your desire to trap me.

You're not the first.

I will have to shoot you
in the fucking head

if you try to leave, darling.

The front or the back
of the head?

The back.

As to be sure
you were leaving

and I was not being rash.

I have missed you.

So, I'm a prisoner?

This conversation
has gone down

an unfortunate route.

I am sure you will be as happy
as you were before.

As I was before when I threw myself
from a bridge?

I suspect you fell
while looking for fish.

Why would you want
to keep me here

if I do not wish to stay?

If one must drown,

let it be
in the river of love.

Mm.

David,

does that pheasant
look stripped to the bone?

It was a misjudgment, sir.

I apologize.

Dessert, darling?

It comes off easy?

Like a button
on a suit.

I saw them do it in Africa
with sharpened rocks,

but had my own
more precise device made.

Do you want
just clitoral hood

or glans as well?

The whole
infernal packet.

It will calm her no end.

This time
we will get it done.

I shall get her sedated

and bring her
to your surgery this evening.

Victoria, darling!

Where are you?

Oh.

Perfect timing.

Martini.

Rather not.

I would, however,
like to leave.

I have found our time
together interesting,

but I've ascertained
why I jumped from a bridge.

I wish to go see
my near dead God.

Adorable idea.

Unfortunately, my darling,

my life is dedicated
to the taking of territory.

You are mine,

and that is the long
and short of it.

I am not territory.

The root of the problem
is between your legs.

I will have it off

and it will not distract
and divert you anymore.

You see, a man
spends his life

wrangling
his sexual compulsions.

It's a curse and yet,
in some ways, his life's work.

A woman's life's work
is children.

I intend to rid you

of that infernal packet
between your legs

and plant a seed in you
straight after.

Let me explain
what has happened.

Victoria, your wife,

threw herself
from a bridge and died.

Godwin Baxter found her,
brought her to his surgery.

He then removed the baby,

removed the brain
from the baby,

transplanted it into my head
and reanimated me.

Ah.
I'll bring you the file.

It's actually
quite fascinating.

However, I will
keep my new life

and my lovely old clitoris,
thank you.

If you'd call
a carriage for me.

They talk and talk,
and yet at some point,

there's nothing left
but to pull a gun.

'Tis the way with women.

Are you giving in?

I'd rather you shot me
in the fucking heart.

I will oblige if I have to.

Drink the drink, darling.

Chloroform and gin.

In some ways,
it would be a relief

to be rid of my questing self.

Sip deeply
and that freedom is yours.

Fuck.

Max?

Max. We have
to get him to surgery.

He'll die if we don't.

Bleeding a lot.

You're fucking dead.

Uh, Bella, if he lives,

I do not sense
he is a man who will stop.

Well, I won't watch him
bleed to death.

But I agree,
he could do with improvement.

I've removed the bullet
and stopped the bleeding.

I have the notes.

I am never happier
than when I'm in here.

Bella.

You're back.

It was just a story
of someone else,

not Bella Baxter.

All my life,
people's eyes looked at me,

horror, pity...

but you.

It's all very interesting...

what is happening.

Merci.

Anatomy exam
is making me nervous.

I've tested you many times.
You know it.

No one knows anatomy
better than you.

Ladies, gin?

Please.

Gin?

We should get some water
for the general.

Felicity,

water.