Original subtitles

This is my new wife, Len.

From the shipwreck.

I wish I had been on it.

Now, the duck roll is set.

Please.

Oh.

I might have understand you are leaving.

I'm going to leave you alone.

I'm going to leave you alone.

I might have understand you are leaving as well as it.

Sir?

To go to sea.

Where is your parrot?

I hope you have no designs on bird Raymond.

My con here is quite scorched, sir.

Well, sir.

There's nothing.

People manage without arms and legs. I shall not miss an eye.

It is repairable.

I went to the stem, sir.

I'm... I'm sorry.

Shh!

You mean tis ye, hath we ended doluth ere cycles?

I... I...

Excuse me, that'll be Dr. Fogarty for Mr. Septuot.

You may feed bird Raymond in nibble or two, if it shall please you.

Please, sir.

Forgive my widowed ally, Dr. Fogarty.

Only Mr. Septuot Finch tossed a beaker of hot milk at me upon her wedding night.

Heaven's for fen, but an accident for sure.

It is now but a cave of crumbs.

Might I?

Take a gandam.

My crusty old socket is really of no importance.

It is Mr. Smithild that needs thee.

Her bowler's been silent for over three months now.

Well, let us hope this day for rapid conversation.

I can smooth her trunk manually to cajole the lolling bowlers.

Or, failing that, I have my scoot and claw.

I'm tied in the house.

I'm tied in the house.

I suggest you retire.

You further board my bird.

I'll get more or mistress.

Another fine day.

I do believe that Mr. Spring has thrust thee shiny snare to above the frost.

Oh?

Excuse me.

You do not like Mr. Spring.

Right on!

Fogarty!

Quick, retrieve my bird air, he pettishes.

Come Raymond, come boy.

Come by.

Shh, shh, shh.

I have thee.

I have thee.

Thank you, Doctor.

You have a wonderful way, Doctor Fogarty.

Doctor Fogarty.

I'll show you to Mr. Smitteltz room.

What make you, Doctor?

More cushions for prayer.

Jeff does slay in his daughter.

One double episode.

It is the nativity.

Oh, well.

Brother Joseph has confirmed so.

Oh, very good.

Hm.

Brother Joseph is a much refined man, and it would please me if we might indulge his cultural bent a little.

Now dinner tomorrow, I shall sing, and Dorothy shall be on crumb hall.

That sounds wonderful.

What will you do, Mistress?

Me?

Well, what would Arabelle have done?

What would she not have done is perhaps Mother Question.

She was fluent in harpsichord, tuba, flute and a drum.

She could sketch like Rubens and paint like Botticelli.

Key Marksman and chair jumper.

And as a sprinter, she could outrun any negro.

I could perhaps demonstrate my embroidered.

Maybe take a request for a scene and then recreate it.

I hardly think Brother Joseph would be dazzled by some slow-moving wall hell in.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

You wait.

Amen.

Amen.

Oh! Oh!

I thought you might like me to join you.

Oh!

Do you know what I should really like?

No, sir.

My bubbly milk.

When did he learn?

Yes, sir.

Perhaps you might secure your top and most button.

We'll not do it ever.

Parsons wife parading out wears like some cock-hung with shaver wound.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Oh!

Oh!

You have been wanting to see Mr. Sarabas' room for a while now, Mom.

No. No, no, Dorothy.

You need only a vest instead of poking about like a pig in a pastry.

Oh.

We keep everything exactly as was.

They look lovely.

Oh, my fancy I can smell her.

She wore this for croquet.

Was she good at croquet?

Oh, it was as if she'd grown the mallet from her wrist.

Oh.

Oh, honeymoon underments.

This housed her breasts.

Her nipple tense.

Still there.

Oh.

Oh.

I sometimes wonder if the dead come back to watch the living.

If she watches you and Master Edmund.

Oh! I fancy I saw her. I'll just then.

In here.

Oh.

It still holds the whiff of her end, please.

Oh, Rebel had the most wonderful scent. Like a fallen angel.

Oh. She sounds perfect.

You mean you want this room?

Sorry? Oh, no, no.

I should have known. That was why you came in here.

No, Dorothy. I'm perfectly in here.

No, no.

I shall have your things moved in here, both ways.

Then...

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Look, Jesus is going home.

Forgive me, sir.

Mr. Tylen insisted that she be moved to her about three hours.

This hour?

I should not wish to be moved to Narabelsville.

I think these do not pile in gratitude at all my slumber savage night.

Dorothy.

Is something wrong, sir?

Helen does not now wish to be placed in Narabelsville.

No, sir.

Mr. Tylen does not now wish to be placed in Narabelsville.

No.

First she wishes it and now she does not wish.

No, no, no.

She begged that we move her.

Old Ian has new popped, his polioed leg with all the shifting in nervous.

I am quite at a loss, mum.

Tossed from moment to moment like a pancake on a butt.

Good day, Mr. Tylen.

Good day, sir.

You're painting madam.

I should not disturb you.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Tizunia, an ugly dog.

Tizai that disturbed you.

May, sorry, but you have not.

On Tuesdays, I gather bluebells for the sick and the needy

and check the woods for injured wildlife.

But please, may I?

Yeah.

It is a most promising rendering.

I myself paint.

Quite a standard.

I wanted to paint this for Edmund.

I wonder if I might simply adjust the perspectives of whisper if that would not insult you.

No, no.

I should be most obliged.

It is important to hold the brush tenderly as one would a lady's finger.

Vince.

Feed it some colour.

Then let it take you.

Once it will.

Oh.

Life has taken a curious turn for you, ma'am.

One minute you're bound for a leper colony, the next year, the new mistress of Hundaby.

Yes.

I am blessed.

Or cursed.

What do you think of this for dinner tonight with brother Joseph?

This lemon sunny gown with the white frothing under skirts.

He must miss the sun and sea, do you think?

I have laid your dress for dinner, ma'am.

Oh.

This pocketed smock with less garish hue offers a more flattering silhouette to a lady of your...

shape.

Master Edmund has a loathing of bright colours, and if ma'am wishes not to embarrass her husband by dressing as a clown on this most important evening.

Yes. Yes, yes, silly me.

Dorothy, can I help at all?

I wish to expand my duties here's mistress and...

Dorothy.

I so want us to be friends.

There is one thing I suppose.

Yes, yes, yes, anything.

Bird Raymond needs his supper and his soil tray will want emptying whilst I, for me, master Edmund's, Jasmine Grimbath.

I hate you.

How's Ruth?

Not well.

What is this we're eating, Dorothy?

I do enjoy it.

Stubborn crunch.

About a lamb's face is so there are twelve more in the pot.

Diddle, diddle, dumpling my son John went to bed with his trousers on, one shoe off and one shoe on, a diddle, diddle, dumpling my son John.

He had put me in mind of the tribal dancers of Fiji.

Done, Mr. Celen. Join us.

Diddle, diddle, dumpling my son John went to bed with his trousers on, one shoe off and one shoe on, a diddle, dumpling my son John.

Fine, come on, Dorothy.

Thank you, brother Joseph.

Mr. Celen, what have you in store for us?

Well, I've captured the house in watercolour. Oh, it is nothing, but...

I have taught him a new trick and it is most of you, Mr....

Mr. Celen.

I have, uh, taught him a new trick and it is most of you...

Mr....

Is he escaped?

Or is this the trick, because Raymond learnt to pick a lock with his big, very good, very good.

I knew he was a clever fellow, very good.

Raymond!

Well, I found him at the sleeve or don't be bricks.

I hear much merry rompers, isn't he? I have the nine cheese platter, brother Joseph.

Hey, hey, hey, hey. Raymond is gone. Raymond!

Give us brother Joseph. I'm sure he's quite near.

Raymond! Raymond! Who was lost with him?

Who was lost with him? Very good.

Mr. Celen. Yes, but I locked the cage. I'm sure I did.

What business had you with my bird?

Only to feed him to help Dorothy.

I've seen you with Raymond. Loth him. He does not much care for you either.

No, no, no, we're firm friends, Edmund.

I can vouch that Mr. Celen did insist on on feeding him, and I did ask that she,

empties Trey poor might to still pile Ty with his runny and soil.

Raymond!

Raymond, boy!

Oh, my...

I've come and go to home.

Oh, my...

Oh, my...

Oh, my...

Oh...

Oh!

Oh, please...

Good!

Oh...

Oh!

Oh! Oh, my...

Oh! Oh, my...

Oh, my...

Oh...

Oh, my...

Oh...

Oh...

Dear...

Dear, I should make hist.

I'm sorry.

You're a chucking wuss.

Brother Joseph, he's a wuss.

Well, you're Father Joseph of course.

My wife will be punished, but he won't

have to deal with the cheese.

It is at nine cheese platters.

Come to bloody crackers.

Nene, it is late for a cheese.

Brother Shae!

Hello!

Where is the boy, Busser?

Hello!

Hello!

Hello?

Hello!

Hey!

Busser!

Annie! Annie! Annie!

He saved me!

His name is Jeff.

He's from the ship.

The Bethany Rose.

But did swim to shore.

Poor soul.

He may remember you, mistress.

Oh, of course.

Jeff, this is Alan Blone.

From the ship.

To Elizabeth.

From John till death.

You are not Alan Blone.

You are not Alan Blone.