All language subtitles for Hunderby - S01E04 - Episode Four

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Original subtitles

Thus I, Matilled, suffer a pinch of hand to be, leave my state in its entirety to my

only son, Edmund, suffer a pinch of hand to be.

From the sole condition that a child be born to him within a year of my death, if no heir

to Hundaby is born within this year, the estate shall be sold up and the proceeds lavished

on an underwater monument to the drowned dead of the Bethany Rose.

Emma, I might not remember. Dorothy, Dorothy Mealous.

No.

Now our goodly sisters Dorothy and Betty would have me remind you that this month's healing ring is to be held here today at noon.

And finally we do humbly ask our Father God that myself and my wife be blessed with a child before the year is through.

He's going to pray for the guidance of our Lord's gentle fist.

For every child is born filthy savage, smeared in Satan's fishes.

Come come down to Walter's mouth. There has worked to be done.

Sorry. These balls are quite big.

I shall lump, prepare myself upstairs.

Bitty was up three nights rendering that beath.

Perhaps mistress does not want a child so very much.

I do. Perhaps mistress wishes us all to be castrum under her.

No, no.

OK.

FAILING!

Tough game!

Edward!

Edward.

What?

Didn's a lot in there.

Their!

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

And one to the let.

Oh.

When in the end.

When to at the end...

Publombsal.

Which, unfortunately, pollkey

among us,

First, that sicketh sucker.

You again.

We do beseech the father-god to unleash from Paul David, the evil ones that have eaten

all of his hair.

We humbly ask thee to fill each and every hole of poor David's demon-dented scalp

with a bounty of your holy fur.

Heal him.

Heal him.

Heal him.

Heal him.

Heal him.

Heal him.

Still nothing.

Has Ruth?

Not well.

There's much clumping here.

Perhaps you've been burdened of late.

I must confess the contents of my mother's will were most unexpected.

Ah, yes.

How goes the creation of your son in here?

May I speak plainly?

Of course.

I fear my wife may be, um, abnormal.

Below.

In what way, brother?

I have no idea.

Within her head, can no.

Kind of grow.

It's not unlike a dangling bell.

Ah, yes.

My wife, Ruth, has oft mentioned this.

It is said to send women mad.

You may recall a smithers' sisters.

Lord, and spinsters of pretty butlaine.

I, sir, both were said to have these bells below, and were quite unable to leave theirs

alone.

May God rest their souls.

They would itch at them like mice at a wall, squealing and hooping as if Satan himself

were riding their lungs.

Yes.

Perhaps their murder was a blessing in disguise.

Well, Belle or No, Belle, too often to my attempts at congress with her, then leave me with a flomping

flute.

With Ruth, sigh oft times, place a pillow gently or her face.

Conjure up a more stimulating scene.

Something else?

Or someone?

There's no harm in it.

Dear brother, for marriage is lengthy.

Yes.

Clean her genius haters would.

So her babe grows panned and food, making art and giving room strong and fat.

And her love is not a good thing.

Art and giving room strong and fat.

And ready to boom, boom, boom through her thighs.

Boom, boom, tears in her eyes.

Ah, it's just a lane.

Oh, Esther, excuse me.

My two was teary after my first time in Dorothy's ring.

And have you been at all healed?

No.

But since God saw fit to mow me down on my wedding night and leave me numb from face to foot,

I must believe that I have been chosen as a continuous beacon of suffering.

I'm sorry.

Oh, but dear her lane, I am certain your womb will ripen all the more for having been

Dorothy's holy hand upon it.

Oh, thank you.

I truly hope so.

My husband's fortune depends on it.

I should dearly love a child.

Also should I.

But alas, there's no shame to be unwed.

Oh, no.

God blessed me with the most steadfast and saintly husband.

Oh, I shall near give him a child.

No, any.

What a pleasure.

Yet he terries with me day on day, year on year.

And only death shall tear us as under.

Oh, Graham.

Doctor Foggess, here's your.

Yes.

Come now, slug legs.

This work to be done.

The day you could pull test out.

Oh, literally your kuchies.

Oh, right.

This is my husband's.

Mr.

Oh, Graham.

Spurgeon.

Don't rape.

My favourite.

Oh.

I have taken the liberty of furnishing a nursery.

In readiness for an heir.

Oh, thank you, Dorothy.

Baby should sleep in silence for 14 hours straight through.

If he can be heard crying,

his because Satan's cambered into his cot

and his best left to fight it out.

Well, you suddenly have the woman's touch.

There we are, ma.

Biddy's battered bonemons, two tougheny nipples for suckling,

with a marafat ointment to grease your shoot.

Thank you.

It's yours, ma.

Yes.

I must have dropped it.

Elizabeth, ma.

A middle name.

Too short for Elizabeth.

And the...

pregnant-backed gentleman.

Hey, of course, he's my brother.

He died a leper,

hence my mission to the leper colony.

Well, let us pray that this family humps

does not surface in your own child like some great and welcome.

Well.

Ah, hello.

Oh.

Brother Joseph has suggested a biblical scenario

to enliven our somewhat fruitless conjunctions.

You shall be playing Job, the Hessian Wednesday second,

Tony Nickabocker.

Yes, if you dom those and then take up a prayer position,

then I shall join you presently as...

Jehovah.

Raining down punishments from on high.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Even as Joe butte made a cushion.

Now you are a true gentleman's villager.

This liver is suture complexion very well.

Coffee bean and velvet custard.

Oh, no, no, no.

The silken stockings go on before the bridge, is it?

Mm.

Don't I say...

How is a man to enjour his egg with you flapping a...

...or he ragged his face?

I thought you would wish to know that as time is trickling away,

Sir Satan's jam hath once again burst her bristled bond.

Good day, sir.

Matt, put your cheek.

Tis...

...bruzy.

She is most clumsy.

Tis like living with a...

...bull in skirts.

A lard salvesor, called the public.

It is not her face I wish you to examine a doctor but her womb.

Sure, my womb is well, sir.

Then why does it weep, Ellen?

It's a month upon a month, it's vicious red tears.

I insist, doctor, that you investigate her uterus in a minute.

I believe my hand may be a little warmer than the pincer.

Yes, please.

If you could flop a whisper more, as would a...

...basking frog.

I trust Tizor, as it ought, as other ladies might be.

Indeed.

I, uh...

...had the honour of attending the last lady of Hundaby.

I rebel.

Yes.

Her womb was quite flaccid and thin.

Which it was mad at me is very firm and...

...oh, springy to the touch with a...

...moist neck.

And a withy canal.

Oh.

You've born a child already.

I would be most appreciative if you would allow me to tell Edmond of this...

...in my own time.

Of course, madam.

You need never know, if that be your will, that you are fit for many more.

You may know that.

Thank you.

The child was not a union of love, but...

...of brutality.

I was ravished by a humpback and...

...did birth a hairdo-run that died.

It is a blessing, madam.

But would surely have ended up a full-grown simpleton.

Oh, how's your whole?

Let me stun these salty rivers from their knives.

Madam, I...

...I too have a secret.

Yes.

It was I...

...it was either crippled my wife Hester.

You.

It was an accident, of course.

The night before I went in...

...I realised I did not laugh, they're not truly.

No.

And so I sought to drown my fears in drink.

The crits and doctors.

I guzzled till dawn.

Took off for the woods upon my horse, Roland, with half a mind of riding myself into a tree.

Still I passed out.

Green gill, the top is silk and rump.

And the faithful fellow to guide me home.

But near my dwelling...

...I came to with such a jolt that...

...I kicked poor Roland hard.

And in his zester transformed me.

Hence he saw not Hester coming out to greet me.

No!

I mowed the poor last down.

To this day she...

...nosed not to as I...

Well, Foggy, I most revived at...

...news of my wife's fecundity.

Yes.

Perhaps I already hear the echo of tiny footsteps in your...

...meaty cavern.

I know not, sir.

If I may, I should like to examine you also, sir.

To confirm that all is well with your seed.

I have not yet fooled.

Dr. Vaugatie.

If I can be of any assistance, Dr. Vaugatie.

Will I have you paddling about in my seed?

Dorothy.

I have to be found out!

I'm here!

Honey! Honey!

Honey!

Oh no, Miss!

Dr. Vaugatie, he knows of my past.

Of the child I bought John within.

Miss!

It would not be the first queer child wanted these walls.

I'm sure he will not tell.

And what if he does?

Does not as if you killed anyone.

I know what will cheer you up.

Why don't you and I go and play with Susan?

Yes!

Well, it all seems well.

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

Ah!

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