All language subtitles for Renegade.Nell.S01E04.720p.DSNP.WEB-DL.DD5.1.Atmos.H.264-playWEB_eng

Oo-er missus.

- That was Herne the Hunter.
- Who?

When Herne rides again,
it heralds the death of the monarch.

I'm beginning to wonder

if you've been sent to the planet
for something special.

The beast was slaughtered,
beheaded by Nell Jackson.

Poynton?

Lady Sofia Wilmot.

I dabble in things
that most people are frightened of.

You want me
to kill my own father?

- Let's split them up.
- What did you say?

Hyah!

Thomas.

- You fiend.
- Murder!

- Liar.
- Leave me alone!

Thomas!

George's been shot!

- Do you know him?
- Isambard Tulley.

No bail at any price!

It's a plague village.

We're gonna scrub this table clean.

And then I'm gonna get that bullet out.

How?

George just got a fever.

She's burning up.
I need to get her to a physician.

Read about her,
Nelly Jackson.

Whoa.

- I won't be long.
- I'll get some supplies.

Yeah. And a news sheet.

You got some lolly?

I was certain it was open
on a Wednesday.

Never mind, Duncan.

I expect we'll be passing through
again on the way to Edinburgh.

- Aye.
- Aye.

Depends where we get the coach from.

I believe.

Oh, hello.

I need a surgeon. It's urgent. Is he in?

- Yes, dear. Come in.
- Lovely.

Henry, it's the Duchess of Argyll
traveling up to London.

- Her sister's been shot by a highwayman.
- Your Grace.

You might not be the right person,
but perhaps you'll advise me.

I've removed the bullet myself,

but my sister's feverish,
and I fear the wound might be...

not right.

Oh, that is a possibility.

You see, when a bullet goes in,
it takes things in with it.

Clothing. Dirt.

And if those things aren't removed too,
then, yes, death can occur.

So...

So the wound needs to be reopened?

Well...

Who's the best person here
to deal with it?

Oh, you won't find anyone else.

All the younger surgeons are off
with the army in Europe.

If I can just remember
where my bag might be.

Henry, here.

Oh.

- Take care, Henry.
- I will.

Ah. Ah!

MacGregor.
Help Mr. Tuplow into the carriage.

Aye, Milady. May I put this basket
on the carriage with you, Milady?

Or else it will go everywhere.

Certainly. Certainly.

- Great. All in.
- Yes, thank you.

Great, great. Ooh.

And MacGregor,

do try and remember to address me
as "Your Grace."

Oh, oh, sorry, Your Gra--

I can't-- Don't know what came--

I wish...

I wish I knew what to do.

"Ointment.

to cure...

wounds to the flesh."

"What, wool of bat,

fairy's fingers, cuckoo's bread."

Where am I meant to get fings like this?

"An old maid's nightcap,
beggar's buttocks,"

Nice.

"Devil's dung and a few blind eyes."

Yeah, obviously,
because they're easy to come by.

"Cuckoo's bread.

Fairy's fingers."

Wasn't this terrible highwaywoman,
Your Grace, who shot your sister?

Uh. The one that's in all the broadsheets.
Black Nelly. Blue Nelly.

Wild Nelly Something. Um...

Jackson.

Oh! Nell Jackson. Yes. No.

Well, it might have been.

- Apparently, she's, uh, fearsome.
- Is she?

Well, they say she can take
on 10 men at once.

And if you look directly into her eyes,
she can turn a man to stone,

or jelly or, um, I don't know, something.

Medically, of course, it's not possible.
But, uh...

she's obviously upset somebody.

She did have a certain feminine-inity
to her.

But no, she wasn't fearful.

Not at all.
She was really rather polite, in fact.

But she shot your sister.

Well, I think it was an accident, really.

And she didn't actually steal anything.

But she held you up.

Yes, yes, but I think...

I think she...

- Oh, are you all right?
- Oh.

Sorry. Just, just for protection.
Nothing to worry about.

Yeah, I think she just wanted a chat,
mm-hmm. Blather.

She, she didn't relieve you
of your weapons, then?

No. No.

Did you not try to shoot her
after she shot your sister?

No, she was off!

And, you know, I think her gun
went off accidentally, to be honest.

And I think,
I think it must have upset her

because the last thing she said
when she went off was, "I am innocent.

I never shot that fella, that Lord.

- What they were all accusing me of."
- Did she?

Uh. Something along the lines
of that? Yeah.

- Good heavens!
- What?

Does that say?

"Isambard Tulley captured in Slough."

I-I... I can't read the little print
without my magnifier.

- Um, can you read it to me?
- No, I can't read either.

No, not without ma wee spectacles,

- which I've lost.
- Yeah.

I think they're somewhere here, but...

Sorry. Is that what,
is that really what it says?

Yes.

- Here, just what...
- Uh.

"Isambard Tulley captured in Slough.

This reporter can confirm
that the infamous villain

and scourge of the great city of London
and surrounding area,

Isambard Tulley was conveyed
in chains to Newgate Prison

at a quarter to midnight from Slough,

where he was captured
by a party of thief-takers."

You, get up.
You're coming with me.

Is he being released?

No, sunshine. He's a dirty Jacobite.

He doesn't like the queen.
He wants her off the throne.

- So, guess what?
- What?

He's being hanged.

- Where are we going?
- I'll tell you when we get there.

Get in. Get in.

What's this?

You obviously know someone in high places.

Yes. Yes, I do.

Thank you very much.
Which is why I am not Isambard Tulley.

- You keep telling yourself that.
- Who lives here?

You do. Like I said, you obviously
know someone in high places.

What about these?

"And I am loyal of the Lords
throughout whole generations.

For the Lord will judge his people

and he will repent himself
concerning his servants.

The idols of the heathen
are silver and gold,

the work of men's hands.

They have mouths, but they speak not.

Eyes have they, but they see not.

They have ears. But they hear not.

Neither is there any breath
in their mouths."

"For the Lord will judge his people

and will repent himself
concerning his servants.

The idols of the heathen
are silver and gold."

Where have you been?

London.

- Not to see Poynton.
- Poynton, yes.

- You shouldn't bother with him. He's--
- What?

What is he? Thomas?

He's dangerous. Poisonous.

Listen.

You need
to pull yourself together.

You need to believe in your own innocence.

Otherwise, this isn't going to work.

Thomas, look at me.

You didn't...

kill Father.

Nell Jackson did.

That is our truth now.

But I can only protect you
if you stop indulging in this weakness.

Do you understand?

Good.

So...

- Poynton is going to move in here with us.
- Why?

He's had some kind of fit of apoplexy
and he needs to recover.

I don't want him here.

Nonsense. He's fond of you,
and he can help us.

But right now, we can help him.

I'll continue to employ Jarrold

to pursue Nell Jackson
in the more usual manner.

But Poynton...

What he can do is, is extraordinary.

- He's coming to us tonight.
- Sofia...

Poynton knows it was me.

What?

It was him that put the idea
in my head to do it.

- How? Thomas. He wasn't there--
- No. Before I...

I used to tell him things like...

that I was short of money
and that I needed my inheritance.

And he would say things like,

"Well, Thomas, what stands
between you and your inheritance?"

Yes, but...

- he surely didn't mean--
- Oh, he did. He did, Sofia!

I was cajoled into believing
that killing Father was an option.

And he put that idea in my head.
And if he hadn't...

Then, it would never have happened.

Thomas, you...

I told him it was Jackson
and he believed me.

He's on our side.

Whatever conversations you've had
with him in the past, he believed me.

You, you must believe it too.

Thomas...

Do you understand nothing about...

Don't make me disinherit you.

You're going to face the consequences
of what you've done.

You turn my stomach.

Ah.

Oh, thank you.

What is this place?

Well, we think it's an old plague village.

You've been hours!
I thought you was never coming back.

Ah, Daisy.

- Is he a surgeon?
- Yes. This is Mr. Tuplow.

My lady's maid will show you
where my sister,

the Lady Georgiana is.

She's in here.

- Devereux is in Newgate.
- What?

Can't you read?

Oh.

Nelly? Where's Nelly?

Nelly? Who's Nelly?

It's my name.

Yes! Same as the highway lady.

Now, Lady Georgiana.

Mr. Tuplow is here to examine your wound
and to make you better.

Better than ever before.

Why are you talking funny?

- What's that slime?
- Oh, it's...

Just some herbs and stuff.

That's meant to be good for flesh wounds
and that.

Right.

Right! Right. Carry on.

Uh, the ointment has bought her some time.

Oh.

But the wound is livid.

As I suspected,
there is still corruption within

- and unless it comes out--
- And you can fix that.

And then?

And then.

- Yes.
- Yes.

The corruption may have
already spread to the blood.

So? What?
That's it, there's nothing you can do?

No. I'm saying,
if I open up the wound again,

there may be a chance
that I can save the child's life.

But you may have to accept

that even after we put her through
the trauma of the procedure.

That...

This is the child's allotted span.

If she dies...

It's all my fault.

So, can you please do everything you can?

Please?

Certainly.

What's in this?

Just, um, wool of bat.

Couple of fairy's fingers.

Cuckoo's bread, uh, a few blind eyes,

an old maid's nightcap,
and beggar's buttocks.

- Mm.
- Oh, um, and some devil's dung.

- So not much. Just that.
- Good.

Now...

Lady Georgiana,

I'm going to have to open
that wound again,

because I think there's
a little bit of dirt in there

that needs to come out,

and you're going to have to be very brave.

When it's all over,
we're going to use this ointment,

which is going to help you heal.

Now, how does that sound? Hmm?

- Yes, sir.
- Good girl.

Can you help get Lady Georgiana
onto the table, please?

- All right, Lady Georgiana...
- Didn't know you could read.

Take it slow.

I can't.

Here we go.

Something happened today
when you were gone.

Yeah, what?

I think... I think I...

And it's something
I've been aware of for a while.

I think I can see or feel things
other people can't.

What do you mean?

I think I'm magic.

Right.

Visiting.

Lady Eularia Moggerhangar.

Oh, God.

Oh, I knew it was you.

Eularia, how delightful.

You need to get me out of here.

Most people stand up when I enter a room.

Ah.

It isn't as easy as it looks.

- You're an idiot.
- Yes.

But, look, it isn't me.
I'm not Isambard Tulley.

Do you realize they'll hang you?

Unless I choose to pull a few strings?

Why would you choose not to, best beloved?

Why would you choose not to get me out
of this hideous misunderstanding?

You were arrested in Slough.

Oh, well, I, I didn't know it was Slough.

I was just trying to get from A to B.

And if being in Slough isn't ugly enough,

oh, word has it that you're in the company
of some grubby highwaywoman.

Um, no?

Word has it that you
and this whoever-she-thinks-she-is

posed as a married couple

to cheat money out of a couple
of old farts in a game of hearts?

- Where have you got that from?
- Oh, I don't know. Do you know?

Uh, maybe I invented it
because I've got nothing better to do.

Or maybe I misunderstood it because
my brain doesn't work properly anymore.

Now, I'm so old.

Or maybe it's because
it's in all the blasted news sheets!

Oh, the guttersnipes. What nonsense!

But your papers aren't saying it's me,
though, are they?

Your papers aren't saying
Charles Deveraux is Isambard Tulley.

No, of course, not.
Well, not yet, anyway.

Oh, my God,
it would make a marvelous exclusive.

Eularia, my love.

You are wrong.

Ah! But you once told me you were
when you were in your cups.

I laughed.
I didn't believe you. But now, well.

Do you know I wouldn't mind that so much?

One has to have a little amusement.

But to be strolling around
the countryside with a strumpet.

Please know that I am this close...

to calling off our engagement.

Eularia, I am not Isambard Tulley.

Nor have I been in the company

of any grubby highwaywoman.

Mm!

Then, who is she? This Nelly Jackson?

Who?

You know,
I thought you'd been giddy lately.

I am not sure I know
what you're talking about.

Well, if you haven't heard
of Nelly Jackson,

then, you're the only person
in England who hasn't.

She's been selling more
of my newspapers than you have.

Oh. Her! Oh, um...

Did they catch Nelly Jackson?

No. She's obviously got more
about her than you do.

So, to sum up,
unless you tell me the truth,

there is very little
that I can do for you.

All right! All right!

So I was just passing through
what I now realize was Slough

on my way back up to London
from a weekend shooting things

in the country
when my horse needed baiting.

Right? So I stopped, not intending
to be more than five minutes.

And then, suddenly there it was,

right in my face, a pistol.

Then, she made me go with her
and, and, um, pretend to be Lord...

Uh...

Somebody or other and play hearts
with Lord and Lady can't remember.

But to be honest,
it seemed harmless enough.

I didn't know her intention
was to fleece him.

And then, suddenly,

in burst all these men telling me
I'm Isambard Tulley,

and I'm outnumbered
and tied up, and thrown in here.

No, no. That's...

Not ringing true.

Tell you what, I'll leave you to it.

No, Eularia.

And when you do decide
to tell me the truth,

then I'll decide whether
or not to move heaven and earth

- to get you out of this hellhole.
- That is the truth, Eularia.

And they'll be taking you back down
to the disgusting bit when I'm gone.

Hmm.

I only hired this suite for five minutes
so I could visit without vomiting.

No, Eularia!

Come along, Valerian.

No! No!

Eularia!

Eularia?

Keep warm by the fire.

I wonder if you might drive me back
to High Wycombe, young sir.

I've no idea how we got here.

And Mrs. Tuplow will be anxious
if I'm not home before night falls.

- I'll sort the horses.
- All right.

Wait. Money. How much would you like?

I, I usually charge a guinea.

Oh, well, I've only got gold.
Will that do?

It... It's not stolen, is it?

Mr. Tuplow, good heavens, no!

I'll waive my fee this time.

No, please take it.

Seriously it won't be missed.

Not by anybody.

Because the stuff I've took,

it's all from people who have more money
than they know what to do with anyway.

Please.

I'll walk you to your carriage.

Um. Thank you. Mr. Tuplow.

Ooh. Um. Take care of her.

In two or three days, she'll be past
the point of danger, hopefully.

Well, you'll know by then anyway,
one way or another.

- She's a brave little thing.
- Yeah, well.

Sometimes you don't get
any choice in the matter, do you?

- You just have to be.
- I understand that.

Listen, I never shot
that toff in Tottenham.

It was his own son that did it
after he shot my--

Our father.

And I know that sounds unlikely,
but it's the truth.

And it's why we're having
to live like this.

What could I do?

No one's gonna believe the word
of someone like me against the quality.

You need to find a magistrate...

- I know.
- ...who will listen to you.

And then protect you
until you can be fairly heard in court.

Where?

Even if I found one who would listen,

he'd probably be too frightened
to stand up to the powers that be.

And even then,
I'd never get a fair hearing.

My elder brother...

You have an elder brother?

Yes. He's a magistrate.

Wow.

In Oxford.

You should look him up.

Tuplow. Jeremiah.

He has an address in Hollywell Lane.

I will write to him.

All set.

Seriously?

Good luck, Your Grace.

You there, Billy?

Hmm. Yeah, I'm here.

You all right?

Yeah, I'm all right. Are you all right?

Yeah,

I'm all right.

Can I see?

So this is the plan. I'm going to Oxford.

- Why?
- Youse are all staying here.

To see a magistrate,

because George can't go anywhere
or do anything for three days.

So on, it's Wednesday today,
Thursday, Friday, Saturday, on Saturday

I'll be back then and we'll set off
for Uncle Jack's in Abingdon.

But Mr. Devereux said that was a bad plan.

Yeah, well, Devereux's in Newgate.
So, what does he know? Yeah.

Which is why I have
to head back up to the city after that.

He's only in there because of us.

Well, me. So I'm gonna spring him.

How?

No idea.

I hope I haven't frightened Thomas away.

He's gone to London for a change of scene.

I'm afraid he's taken all this very badly.

Ah.

But...

It will be a great privilege
and pleasure for me

having someone so intelligent to talk to.

You can't begin to imagine
what it's like being blessed

with a good intellect,
but having no use for it.

Hmm.

I want to learn everything

you can teach me
before you're obliged to go back.

I need Jackson dead.

I'm tempted to think that fate
has thrown us together, Sofia.

And it's delightful to me
that you are so open to the dark arts.

I'm tempted to think you have
more potential for it than I ever did.

Really?

Hmm.

So...

I must tell you something important.

Do you recall asking me
why I conjured Herne?

You said, it was a private joke
with the Queen.

I didn't want to make her laugh.

I wanted to terrify her.

Are you...

...a Jacobite?

Sofia, I will teach you everything
I know about the arts

so that you can bring this
Jackson woman to justice.

But in return,
I need you to be my acolyte.

I need you to do things
that I cannot do anymore.

What?

What things?

- The Queen is a traitor.
- You are a Jacobite.

She has squandered
the authority of the crown

and handed it blithely to Parliament,
to the people.

Before we know it, the most ordinary men,
uh, carriage drivers, carpenters,

people like Nell Jackson's father
will be able to vote.

And then how long before Parliament itself
is made up of such people?

It's unthinkable.

So...

What...

What would you have me do?

The rightful monarch of this country
is James Francis Edward Stuart,

who currently resides ignominiously
in the French court.

In a few short weeks,

he will sail with an army across
the channel and...

Invade.

I've known the boy since he was an infant.

He trusts me above all others.

When he becomes king,

I will become
his closest personal adviser.

Sofia, half of Anne's own Privy Council

is made up of men
who feel exactly as I do.

I had hoped to conjure Herne
to accompany him the young king.

So people would be in awe of him
with this strange,

supernatural creature beside him.

Will you help me?

Will you help England?

If you did, I have no doubt
with your wit and intellect,

you would be offered a place
of great significance

in the court of James the Third.

I would see to that.

I also have something to confess.

Jackson didn't kill my father.

Thomas did.

Did he?

Did he.

Well, she was there.
And it was because of her.

And I...

for a multitude of reasons,
went along with it.

To protect him. To protect myself.

Because if anything happens to him,
I, I shan't inherit Broadwater.

What are you thinking?

Sofia, none of this matters.

You were right to tell me.

But you and Thomas made the right choice.

- Did we?
- Yes.

People like us have the burden of rule.

People like Nell Jackson are dispensable.

You made exactly the right decision.

How clever of you both.

I should like to see Thomas,
once I'm recovered.

Convince him to return home.

This is the best place for him.

He tried to tell me that you convinced him
to murder our father.

Oh...

Grief does terrible things to a person.

And Nell Jackson.

Hmm.

We must deal with Nell Jackson.
Briskly. Lay the matter to rest.

I'll formulate a spell.

Let's see
if you can execute it.

We'll do it together.

Mm.

- Mr. Tuplow.
- Mm?

There's a Captain Argyll to see you, sir.

- He says he's expected.
- Ah!

Yes, yes. Show him in.

Documentation with the magistrate,
that's right.

Ah, Captain Argyll.
Come in, come in.

Well, yeah, but-- No, but--

I never even said nothing or anything.
But the thing is, right?

This is going back to the same night
I come home.

This is when he starts kicking up
a rumpus, this Blancheford. Thomas.

But he'd already been pestering
my sister for weeks beforehand,

and he shot a fella's horse earlier
that same day.

But it was only Nathan Halliday's,
and none of us like him,

because he once put his hand
up Roxy's friends sister's skirt,

and he said he didn't even like her.

So, why would he? And then her dad
went mad like it was all her fault.

And we was all like, "What?" and then--

Um... Aah.

Oh, sorry. Where was we?
I've gone off on a tangent.

Um...

Oh, yeah. So, that night, this Thomas,
he had, like, a whip and there was this--

Puddle. Sorry, Mr. Tuplow.

Mr. Tuplow?

Mr. Tuplow?

♪ Mr. Tuplow ♪

Mister...

Mr. Tuplow.

Mr. Tuplow!

What's the matter? Is there some...

Oh!

No!

- Is he?
- Mr. Tuplow.

Ah.

Mr. Tuplow.

Oh.

- Murder! Murder!
- What?

Murder!

No, no, no, I didn't. No, I didn't.

- It, it was not. And I was just--
- Murder!

Fetch a magistrate, quickly!

Out of my way!