All language subtitles for the.great.s01e09.720p.web.h264-trum

And every town has a school.

And two bars.

All subjects...
taught to women...

children... serfs...

...whoever.

- Oh, fuck!
- Yes!

Yes!
Yes!

I'm so happy you know.

I hated that you didn't know.

It is a relief to know you again.

I thought you'd try
to talk me out of it.

What, that you, a 20yearold
who's been in Russia six months,

with the aid of a drunken General,
an angry maid, and a nervous bureaucrat

is going up against the violent machine
that is Peter's empire. No.

Of course not. I think it would be great.

I knew it.

You do not believe in change.
You're doing it.

That's what I believe.

Could I talk you out of it?
No.

But I thought it'd be fun for you to try.

All right.

Mm...

It's hard to fuck when you're dead.

That was chilling.

Despite its halfhearted nature.

The future, Leo.

For once, think of the future.

I have trained myself not to.
You know that.

Try.

Oh.

Oh, mm.
Well?

I grew a beard and wrote an opera
where fat women chase tiny men.

And us?

I glimpsed us.

And the hope of it was
a little too much to take.

Together. Free.

Feel this.

My blood is roaring,

and rushing me to where I belong.

You are extraordinary.

So true.

Help me?

Of course.

All right, let's begin. Orlo, brief us.

- Could I have a moment first?
- Drinks, anyone?

My special mule concoction.

I've some walnuts, as well.

I'm trying not to drink,
but that mule thing intrigues.

Leo knows, but that does not mean
he's part of this.

He is, Orlo.
And his skills are what, exactly?

His skills are many. Trust me.

I mean coup skills.

He has many unique ideas,
and he is a regional noble,

which may be useful.

Please do the briefing.

Uh, right.

The regions.
Uh, we need the regional strongmen

on her side immediately
she is installed.

I think the main targets and Rostov,
Gorky, and Raskolnikov.

Gorky? He's from my region.
Marvelous chap.

Well, kind of cranky.
But a lot of that's an act.

In fact, at the horse show.

They are all here for the aristocrats'
monthly meetings with Peter.

We must win each of them.

- I'll do Gorky.
- Aah.

I'm not sure you have the right skills

for a delicate negotiation
such as this, Voronsky.

If you'd let me finish my horse show
anecdote, you'd see that I do.

Snacks and drinks
may be your natural role.

Orlo, don't be rude.

Oh, is, uh, is factual rude?
I didn't know that.

I'm old friends with Rostov.

All right. Marial will take Rostov,

Leo and Velementov, Gorky,

and Orlo, you take Raskolnikov.

We get to the regions.
The military, we have.

I will address the group of senior men.

All will say they're in,
as I will command them,

but some will peel off
and betray us to Peter.

That is why we do it at the last minute.

That seems cynical, Velementov.

Perhaps Catherine should speak
and inspire them all.

We thought of a slogan.

Oh, that was great.

You say it.
No. You.

All right. "Once Russia is in her cup",

and will be reborn, like a newborn pup."

Sounds... less good than it did.

Maybe it's the way I said it,
or that one needs to be naked, as we were.

Can we stay with Velementov?

When they turn, what do we do?

Fucking kill 'em all, and prevail.
Yeah. Great. Drinks.

Indeed. The mule kicks pleasantly.

If we can stay on point.

Everyone has
When do we kill Archie?

CATHERINE and MARIAL: What?

He is no supporter of Catherine.
I suggest at some point,

I should shoot him in the heart.

What the fuck are you talking about?

Marial, just
VELEMENTOV: The heart.

Head is good, but I've seen many
live quite full lives with head wounds.

Not so many with a blownapart heart.

Catherine?
Velementov, he's Marial's friend.

So? I will kill many friends in this.

Russia is bigger, is it not?

If we're not all prepared for that,

then we need to abandon the plotting
and increase the drinking.

You fucking touch him and I will
stab you nine times in your fat face.

Enough. Of course
Russia is bigger than any of us.

Archie, I can deal with.

When Peter is killed,
he will be practical,

as he is a political animal.

He will strike a deal with me.

We have our tasks.

Secrecy is paramount.

No one can name me
in the getting of these men.

We are all embarking on
something extraordinary.

Each of us must be connected, loyal,

full of love and passion for our goal,

and trust for each other.

It will be hard, but we will prevail.

For Russia. Huzzah.

Mm.

Mm.

Good luck.

I will... wait, I suppose.

We will reconvene when you are all done.

Okay.

Ah, yes. Drunk, no doubt. Fucker.

I'd pray for him, but he's an infidel.

Oh, well. Better get a new one.

Your bodyguard dies,
and you think nothing of it?

Well, I'm sad, of course.

Should I say a few words? Uh...

Poor Nick, from...

Tartar Land?

Dead too soon. Hmm.

Politically, I mean.

You were poisoned
a few months ago, darling.

I still shake when I think of it.

But thankfully you did not
when you cut Ivan's throat.

I did not enjoy that,
and I do not wish to be there again.

I appreciate your concern,
but you're overreacting.

This fountain is a death trap.
Leontov died in it last week.

- Hmm.
- Hmm.

- Hmm.
- Hmm.

Everyone stop hmming.

The people love me more than ever.
I just won the war.

Why do you want to ruin that?
My darling, I don't!

Huzzah to you!

Your father would be smiling down
from the clouds.

Indeed. A lovely thought.

However, you would do well
to take his view on these things.

We used to fuck out here
like depraved cheetahs.

And as we lay there and the heat
dissipated from our raw, spent bodies,

he would say,

"You're never safe," he used to say.

"It's always coming."

Are you fucking kidding me?

I am happy, and a hero, and we are
celebrating my greatness this week.

And I would like you to
make it to next week.

Elizabeth counsels wisely.

If perhaps darkly.

She is always sticking pins in me.
It will not do. They love me.

It is a flaw for a leader
to want love so much.

Fuck you.

I'm sorry, darling.
I couldn't quite hear that.

I said...

sorry?

I'm taking his wind pipe flute.

MEN
Peter! Peter!

Victory is ours!

Huzzah!

You know what that is, Orlo?

Happiness at the ending of the war, sir.

Love, Orlo. That is love,

you bloodless, lobcocked eunuch.

I cannot be lobcocked
and be a eunuch, sir.

They are contrary
Shh! Shh.

Let me listen to this.

Ha! Aah!

We may just have to take matters
into our hands regarding Archie.

I, I, I thought the same.

Marial will be in her ear,
and she has a soft heart.

Happy to kill the cunt.

Me, too.

Done it before.

Oh, yes. Yeah, yeah.
You killed a soldier. Right.

I haven't heard the story
for a day or two.

What are you two fishwives
gossiping about?

How much the love of God
flows from your heart, Archie.

I imagine a gushing river.

Right.

Of course you were.

Fiftyone. Count Rostov.

Emperor.
I bring you the peaches from my region.

Fuck. Look at your face.

Oh, you weren't wrong, Rostov.

Fucking hell. Look at your face.

Does your wife still fuck you?

Occasionally me.

More often, another.

Poor fuck. Well, can't blame her.

You look like you fell in a fire.

Gentlemen, I said,

he looks like he fell in a fire.

Grigor has a beard.

Stubble. He forgot to shave.

And this is bruised.

Nature is as mercurial as humans.

We need a new viaduct built in the river
to divert water.

Boring. Yes, of course. Do it.

Rostov,

next time, bring your wife to court,

and the Emperor will
make her happy for you.

Eat her like a ripe peach.

Grigor. Rough.

But not unfactual, so...
huzzah.

Brilliant.
Well done, Grigor.

Fiftytwo. Gorky.

Gorky. Have you ever seen his nipples?

What?

He has absurdly large, uh, nipples.

I shared a swim with him at his dacha
and I look over, and...

and they're like jiggling dinner plates.

Gorky, my old friend.

I wish to talk about the mink
killing quotas,

which I seek to increase.

And I wish to see your nipples.

Right!

You could suckle a village.

Let me see them in motion.

- Jump up and down.
- Jump up.

Alexi Rostov.

Marial.

Ooh, it's good to see you.

Even like this?

You always made the women's hearts race.
This will not change anything.

It is your eyes that do it, Alexi.

You're still a maid. That prick.

I am.

Come and have tea with me.

And by "tea" you mean double vodkas?
Of course.

Count Raskolnikov.
Hungry as ever.

Chekhov thinks I have a parasite.

It loves pork. Clearly.

Mm. Want some?

Oh, kind, but no.

Could I stretch your mind a little?

Orlo.

I'm a great lover of, uh,
hypotheticals.

How many pigs can a parasite
eat at a sitting?

If I was six inches taller,
would my life be different?

Did the man I killed have children,
and was he a good father, or a shit one?

Orlo, get to the point before
I get to the trotters.

And I saw you, and I thought,
what if there were a new leader installed?

Would someone like Raskolnikov
hold his region for them?

I mean, you would, of course, need to know
their beliefs and philosophy.

Two million rubles, and my port.

What?
I don't want anything to do with it,

and I don't want to know anything.

But if it hypothetically happened,

that would be what I needed.

And you don't care what they believe in.

I need them to believe giving me
two million rubles and a port...

is a good idea.

I can do this alone.
As can I.

Ah. Gorky.

Apologies for
what happened in there, Gorky.

Your nipples seem completely normal
and appropriate to me.

The Emperor's will.

Well done on your victory in Hango.

- How are Masha and the children?
- Annoying.

And how is the Empress' pussy, Leo?

It is the state of Russia
that concerns me more.

Russia is as it always is. A delight.

Huh. And a disaster.

Perhaps it could be just the former.

We think it could be better.

We think it could be led better
if it were led by someone different.

We have that someone.

We... we have the military.

A coup!
Fucking hell.

A new start, Gorky.
I know you're a curmudgeon,

but I also know your romantic heart.

When you hear her talk
of Russia, your heart Her?

Oh, Jesus Christ, Leo.

I didn't say her. I really didn't.

Her name may not have
been on your lips,

but I expect, this morning,
her pussy was.

Not interested.

Fascinating, all the same.

He knows it's her. Fuck.

What do we do?
Get a rock.

Uh, Gorky?

I was... just, uh, one more thing. Um...

I, I, I forgot to

Aah!

Aah!

One more.

Fuck.

Not ideal. Let's go.

Mm.

I hoped it was that kind of drink.

I remember it fondly.
As do I.

Mm.

Firstly, I wish to tell you something.

I have a friend who...

believes in change.

Changing Peter.
The Empress, perhaps?

Oh, never said that.

If it were to happen?

I would hang balloons
from every fucking tree in the region.

Tell your friend I am in.

Do you fuck me for that?

I fuck you because I want to fuck you.

- Yes?
- Yes.

If your philosophy stretches
to blackmail,

two million rubles, and a port,

then Raskolnikov is ours.

Mercenary pigeating pig.

Agreed.

We have Rostov.

You look... relaxed.

Indeed.

- It is mostly my fault.
- Agreed.

What is?
We had to kill Gorky.

What?
I let it slip that it was Catherine.

Did anyone see you?
No.

This is bad.
We do not know that, Orlo.

It is a random killing in a court
that has them often.

If it is read like that.

I will make sure it is.

No one do anything else!

Okay?

What? Sorry.

I was thinking about Grigor.
So was I!

No, he has to shave his beard off.

I don't want to be a prick about it,

but it is a bad look,
and unfair on others.

I know.
Why is he doing it?

I He thinks it looks good.

He is fucking handsome,

but we all must pay a price
for the unity of court.

Mmhmm.
You know, especially at the moment.

You shoot your shot in her,

and I will be very,
very disappointed in you!

I said stop fucking her!

Is there something you want?
It's coming.

Gorky's dead.

Where are you going? I have to
stop him thinking there's a coup.

If he does, he'll be ready for it,
and it will be harder.

I'm sorry.

It's okay.
Not really. I messed it up a bit.

It's just frustrating,
relying on everyone.

I do not think it will go perfectly,
but...

just that I will have my hands
on the mechanism.

Faulty human mechanism, unfortunately.

Are you all right?

Killing a man.

You must be devastated.

I've... killed before.

What?
This is Russia. It happens.

It's not my thing, but... it happens.

Right.

Go.

And I'm sorry, again.

I'll make it up to you.

Best to wait it out.

As a child, he was always
smashing something.

Aah! Fuck!

A toy... A footman...

What is wrong?

Tartar Nick's dead.
Drowned in the fountain.

Like Leontov.
That fountain is cursed.

That's exactly what I said.

And now Gorky's dead.

Elizabeth thinks I should
be worried about it.

That they're always coming.

Which is a saying of my father's,
and not hers,

and it is annoying that she uses it,

as well as annoying that she
reminisces of his cock

in her various holes when I'm right there!

No. You just won the war.
People love you.

Exactly! That's what I said!

You are quite marvelous nowadays.

Catherine, you have a heart of snow.

Cold?
Pure.

You're not a political animal,
and that is fine.

But his bodyguard is dead,

and now Gorky,
his father's best friend, is dead.

- Best friend?
- He kept it quiet.

He used to hide friendships,
so people would be led the wrong way.

That's actually very clever.

You know, I have stopped the war,

given them art and science for a time,

let them draw donkeyfucking
cartoons of me,

and still they come after me.
What do these fuckers want?

So ungrateful.

Who could want anything more?

That is why it does not make sense
that anyone is up to anything.

It is coming.
You both need to understand that.

All right! Fuck it.

If it is this, then it is this.

I do not get to choose the Emperor
I wish to be.

These fuckers make me choose
to be the Emperor I have to be.

So be it.

Leadership is a cruel master.

We will torture everyone at court.

What?
Man, woman, and child will be tortured

until someone confesses.

Hopefully we find them early,

as we do have a banquet
celebrating the war this evening.

That is an appalling idea.
You can't hurt people like that.

I can. We torture people all the time.

Loosen a person's ball bag,
it seems to loosen their tongue.

Oh, dear God.

It is a flaw to need their love,
but I will take their fear instead.

I need to know if there is someone,

so this will find them efficiently,
and speedily.

So it's actually
a great idea.

You are women, and this is men's things.

Surely suspects could be deduced
over a very, very,

very long period of investigation.

And only then should you act
as if there is a coup.

We're doing this.

The court could do with reminding
how benevolent and fun,

and warwinning I usually am.

And they should know that I could be
a fucking prick if I wished, instead.

He's not seriously gonna do this.

He is. I'm 3:30, you're 3:15.

Shit! Arkady, we're on the list.

Me, too!

Fucking hell! We're loyal. His friends.

Why would he...

He can't torture everyone. It is mad.

I don't mind a little ruthless.

But it does seem illadvised.

Must you watch?

Technically, I do not have to,
but I enjoy it.

Hmm. Nothing.

It does not always bloom directly, though.

He is to torture everyone.

I heard. Drink this.

We are not on the list.

I know. Everyone but us.

And Catherine. And Elizabeth.

He really loves us.

I know.

When my father used to gamble,
I watched the men and their cards.

The good gamblers played
the cards they were dealt.

The bad went mad waiting for an ace.

Hoping.

You've been dealt a complicated woman.

And hand.

But you must play the cards
you've been dealt. Humph.

I love you with all my heart.

And soul.

If there is such a thing.

Haven't seen much evidence
of it around here.

Oh. I feel a bit
Groggy? I know. Jordansk.

Wha...

What are you do...

So you all have to hold fast
during torture.

Remember our glorious future,
and hold to that day.

I, I'll, I'll just say it.
I'll, I'll spill my guts.

I have a low pain threshold.
Um, a medical condition, I think.

If they go for my balls,
I'm not completely trustworthy, either.

What are you talking about?
True. They come for your balls.

All bets are off.

We should practice some pain management.

Fuck!
Are you drunk, Velementov?

A tiny bit.
What's, what's in these mules, Voronsky?

Ooh, uh, some vodka.

Can you.

Leo, what are you even doing here?

Have you not fucked up enough already?

I mean, this, this is life and death.
Not drinks and... fucking snacks.

Well, I just killed someone,
so I'm well aware of that, Orlo.

And if I didn't kill him,
we'd all be dead by now.

Well, if you hadn't told him it was her,
you wouldn't have had to kill him.

You all need to
We need to fucking go kill Peter,

before this starts
and he gets too prepared.

Marial might be right. I'll get a rock.

I Everyone stop.

We are not killing anyone.

We are not ready.

The pieces are not in place.

We will not fail because we panicked.

It's called responding to circumstances
as they happen.

No.

We need to get him to believe
the threat is over.

He will not stop
until he finds the plotters.

We need to find him one. Or some.

We need a scapegoat.

Fuck! Guards!

Remember, think of our glorious future,
and not the searing pain in your balls.

I thought word "searing"
was uncalled for.

They do not inspire confidence
in victory, our comrades.

They will. Just need aligning.

What do you seek here
without asking entrance?

Uh, it's me!

I was worried for your safety.

Come on.

You have a lot of guards.
Indeed.

Fucking come for me,
you'd die a lot first.

We will confine ourselves together
until it is safe.

Emperor! Archie.

- Yes, I'm in here.
- Right.

I am to begin the interrogations.

Indeed.
Fucking shake their souls, Archie.

Will do.

I see a fruit bowl through there.
Toss an apple over, will you?

Uh, right.

How are we supposed to enjoy the picnic?
I can't judge their looks.

What is fucked about this job is
you never fucking know.

You know, my father always used to be
hyper wary. Hyper scared.

And I told myself,
in this, I would be different.

And instead,
I'm a prisoner in my own palace.

I suppose you never know,
when you are king,

whether loyalty and love is true.

Exactly. How does one live unsure
of the love others have for them?

It is difficult.

It is fucking cruel.

It's how I used to feel about Mother,
and now I feel it again.

You just need to find the plotters.

Let your feelings focus your action.

That seems smart.
Your hair is golden in the sun.

Like Archie, perhaps.

The Church is a powerful entity.

And they do not like
your freethinking ways.

He is often disdainful and does
occasionally get yelly at me these days.

He called me evil.

And put his fingers inside me.

And put the raven in my room.

And does not fuck.
That can do things to a man.

Indeed.

I suggest for safety, you place Archie
under house arrest immediately.

We will find a malleable bishop
in his group

who will send his forged sermons,
sign his name to them,

and at some point,
when you have found a loyal replacement,

kill him,

and we can go back to normal court life.

Brilliant.

Once, you gave me a twig
and were a doeeyed fool.

Now you want to kill the Patriarch.

Huh. I have never wanted to
fuck you so much.

I care for you. That is all.

Huzzah. Let us go.

Where?
See if you're right.

Oh. This looks great.

Yes. We have five stations
going at the moment,

working from left to right.
We have fingernails,

face eels, uh, medical chair, various,

and then a kind of mental torture.
They walk in a small circle,

knowing a brick will drop on them
at some point,

and they can save themselves
by confessing.

Or not. And finally, uh, Colonel Tolsten
just beats the shit out of them.

Arkady. Hi!

Help me!

Oh, my God.
Any confessions yet?

Not yet, but early days.

Can someone mop the blood up?
Someone could slip!

Archie!

You're up.
Uh, no, I'm last.

- 4:45 on the schedule, sir.
- Uh, fuck that. Now.

- What?
- Or is that a problem? Hmm?

If so, we should discuss why it is.

Delighted.

He doesn't seem in much pain. Come on.

Do your worst.

Are you plotting against me?

You have my love, and God's love.

I lay my pain before you
with ecstatic joy.

Tolsten,

put your back into it.

More!

Harder!

Rip his fucking eyes out!

How precise do you want me to be?

Out in one, or are pieces okay?

It's not me, but if you wish it,
my eyes are yours.

Use them to see the truth.

You'll give me your eyes? Nice.

I guess it's not you.

Uh, Smolny.

You're next.
Remove your shoes and wig, please.

It's my turn.

If you don't mind me jumping line,
Count Smolny.

That'd be good, actually. Of course.

What are you doing?
You're not on the list.

Everyone's loyalty should be tested.
I am next in line to the throne.

A point I was about to make.

What are you doing?
The court cannot think I'm part of this.

I know you are loyal.

It is best. The court must see
you are being fair to all.

I suppose so.
Trust me.

Where would you like to begin?

Fingernails grow back.

Fingernails.

Why are you betraying the Emperor?

I am not
PETER: Stop!

Aah!
So sorry.

I was already in motion, Emperor.

Enough.
No.

I will move to the brick.

You are pretty.

I wonder if you still will be
with mushed bones in your face.

Beauty is that which glows from within.

He'll break your head open.

It's you!

No.

Hey. Ddon't throw that.

Catherine. Enough.

Oh, Arkady, you look rough.
Come with me.

Tatyana, Smolny, I've arranged snacks,
drinks, and treatments.

What a day, huh?

I can still see those eels
stinging my face.

Do I look terrible?
Beautiful.

Aloe vera. Arkady, razored and salted.

Give it a good washout
and some vodka on it.

Smolny. You look all right.

I've had a hot probe in my ass.

We have some cushions laid out.

We are all as one today, realizing
the Emperor's love for us is thin.

He must test our loyalty.

Fucking eels on my face, Arkady.
I know.

Perhaps instead of testing our loyalty,
he should just inspire it.

Some leaders would.

Aah! Cheese toasts!

Come on. Sit down. Sit down.

It hurts?
It does. Indeed.

I should go to my apartments and rest.

No. It is safer if we're together.

It's just hard not knowing
what is going on out there.

That is the thing with being a leader.
You give orders,

and you hope the fuckers carry them out,
but you don't know.

We will cease worrying.

The torture will cough up the enemy.

In the meantime,
I could play violin for you.

No. But thank you.

Well, what will cheer you?

Let us get Grigor and George up here.

That is a good idea.

As I worry on Grigor.

He is strange.
And he could do with cheering, too.

Hmm.

Uh, your "hmm" being...
Is that a yes or a no?

I think it's a grand idea.

Are you going to watch?

I don't mean to impose.

If you wish to continue,
I can just sit quietly and wait.

Oh. I bet you can.

I remember you as a young rake
about court.

Fucking Lady Svenska's
brains out one week,

and Colonel Svenska's the next.

I was lost in the darkness.

As I hope to be, shortly.

What is it? I'm roused, and I need
Can she...

It is immoral, I redundantly point out.

You know, as a young girl in church,

I was fascinated by the icons
of the saints bleeding.

What's it called?

Stigmata.
Exactly.

And then at 14, my blood came in,
and I thought I might be a saint, too.

Perhaps all women are saints
with their monthly stigmata.

Amusingly heretical.

Peter is becoming erratic.

I worry on it. It will be destabilizing.

I know. I.

It is always coming,
as you rightly pointed out.

It'll never stop while he's in power.

What are you driving at?
And be careful where you drive.

He is who he is, and it is a rocky road.

Regions are unhappy, military's unhappy...

Someone comes for him,

and so possibly for us, too.

In terms of replacements,

uh, Catherine is a progressive.

But she does not understand the country.

She has a good heart.

You are a progressive.

Mostly in your bedroom.

You understand the country.

Its need for stability, and...

you'll cut a throat,
when a throat needs cutting.

You worry too much.

He will prevail.
He has his father's blood.

The country is going Galina!

Be gone when I turn my back, Archie.

We should just kill him
while she's trapped in there with him.

I know she won't.

All this strategy and waiting
drives me crazy.

I should just go do it.

You know, I thought about it this morning
before I went in to see him.

Just step forward and snap his neck.

I would love to see that.
And now he's heavily guarded.

His hallways. Outside his quarters.

He has a secret entrance, though.

Really?
The Empress told me of it.

Take me.

Seriously?

Did you know I have
a secret gift, Grigor?

What's that?

I can see into people. Their heads.

Mm.
And you know what?

When I look into yours,

I can see you want to kill Peter.

What?

It makes sense. He didn't torture you.

He doesn't need to.

He tortures you every day.

No.

No, no, no, no. I love him.

He fucks her.

He eats fruits various
from your wife's cunt on a daily basis.

I can actually tell the season
from her scent.

"Oh, quinces are in.
Stone fruits arrive.

Is that... raspberries?"

No one would blame you
if you just took that knife,

walked over to him,
and stabbed him in the heart right now.

What are you saying to him?

Do you want to kill the Emperor, Grigor?

You are funny. You are very funny.

You fucking German bitch! He is unwell.

I'm just trying to find the threat
to my husband.

I need proper food.

There is a buffet set.
Oh.

You are very sweet, but Grigor loves me.

You are more than
what's between your legs.

Did you just call me a dumb whore?

I more implied "smart whore."

Ooh! Ouch!

Fucking corset! Are you hurt?

No.
Dammit.

I work the corridors of selfinterest
using what assets I have.

Just like everyone in this fucking place.

What if it was not a place where
a woman had to have a coy smile,

and a pliant cunt to survive?

I would say send me the address of
such a land, and I will load my carriage.

I will see you later, Lady Marial.

Kill the cunt.

Ooh. First pears of the season.

Mm.

I hate the way you eat pears.

You are acting fucking weird,
and must cease it.

I am holding my mind together
with both hands and much fucking effort.

I do that for you.

And every time you fuck George,
a piece of me burns.

Right. So it actually bothers you
that I fuck George.

Wow. Well, I'll stop fucking her, then.

Or maybe just... twice a year?

I need to tell you
something strange has happened.

Catherine.
You haven't noticed Catherine's eyes?

Her hair? It is very gold, like the sun.

And she thinks like me.
So often today, she says it,

and I am like, "Exactly!"

And she cares more whether or not
I die than I do. It is.

You love her.

Hilarious, Grigor.

I would love it if you did.

Let us take them food.

Rostov.

Rostov. What the fuck?

Rude fucker.

Who else is in this?
Just me.

Give me the chance, I'll kill you all!

Clearly
you're not getting that chance.

Learn to read a situation, idiot.

Fucker.

All for a beard.

You all right?

Of course.

- Huzzah.
- Humph.

The plotter is found.

You did not join us, my dear.

I froze. Apologies.

She is a beautiful mind.
Not a hard fist.

She's not quite a Russian.

Could have been worse. You next?

After the break.

They can't find a ball clamp,
so that's helpful.

Ah, shit.

They found it.

Setting it to extrasmall,
so, uh, probably you.

I have power and influence
in this court, and it grows.

So, mark my fucking words.

They come near my balls,
my eyes, or my cock,

I will pick their lives apart after this,
increment by increment,

until they have nothing. They are nothing.

Everyone they love is in pain.

Pain that is not over in 15 minutes,
but lasts years.

Fuck, yeah. Lay that on 'em.

Here I go.

It's over. They found him.

What is it?
Just need to, um...

Rostov.

Were you involved in that?

Um...

You knew about this?

Marial, are you mad?
I am.

I can't be a servant anymore.

What was the plan?

Kill Peter.

Take over himself, I think.

And you thought you'd get
your stuff back like that.

Girl, think!

I am too shaky to think.

If you knew about Rostov,
and what he was doing,

you should have betrayed him
to the Emperor!

You'd be Lady Marial right now.
He'd be just as dead as he is.

Right.

I hadn't thought of that.

Well...

God lights the way for me,

so that I can see all the angles
and permutations.

Does it hurt?

It's nothing. Everything heals.

Tell that to Rostov.

They descended on him in a millisecond.

No fear. Just fury, and savagery.

You sound almost impressed.
Fucking monsters.

It just struck me.

How ready they are to act.

Half my day was sending others to act
on my behalf, and hope it went well.

Apologies again on the Gorky thing.

No. I've seen how you acted.

I must be that.

This is Russia.

Until you build a new one.

So now you believe in a new one.

Coming around to the idea.

Stop.

Oh. Evening.

We are free. The guards can surely go.

Ah, yes. They smell rank, as well. Go.

Tonight, we feast on lobsters,
with hog and sage bread sauce,

with Dom Perignon. Mm. Marvelous.

Oh, shit. They look angry.

They do, indeed.

Well. What a day.

I suppose we all learned something today.

Bloody flesh hurts when salted.

Brilliant, Leo.
It is good to laugh about it.

I thank you all for your loyalty,
and we will celebrate it.

- The plotter is dead. Huzzah!
- Huzzah.

Uh, okay. Uh, well...

Uh, enjoy the hog. Um...

Pear soufflé, for dessert.

First pears of the season.

Okay.

I look at you all...

and my heart breaks.

For your pain.

For your sorrows.

But I also see, externally...

signs of what we all carry inside us,
every day...

and is normally unseen.

Wounds.

Pain.

Hardships.

Betrayals.

And also love.

For today, you are all as one.

And when you look at each other,
recognize it.

Understand, we are all Russians.

In our pain, and in our sorrows.

In our simple hopes for less pain...

and less wounded future.

For a future where our hearts sing,

and rush with joy at the country we build.

One where we trust in each other,

knowing we are bonded
by our love for Russia.

And our joy in a brand new future.

Huzzah.

Huzzah.

Huzzah!

You were marvelous at cheering them.

It looked as if the torture
may have got them down.

Humph. Good night's sleep
and they'll be fine.

You could have mentioned me
in your speech.

I didn't? I was sure I did.

Ah, think nothing of it.

Goodnight.

You know, I'm a bit sad
that our confinement is finished.

That is sweet.

Um...

I have odd feelings...

for you.

For me?

It is strange, but...

I may love you.

I want to touch your hair, and...

Goodnight.

Goodnight.