All language subtitles for Black Sails S03E05 XXIII.DVDRip.NonHI.en.ANCHRBY

Silver: Who are they?

Flint: Maroons. Escaped slaves.

They must have a camp upriver.

Ben: She is everything here.

Priestess, governess, warlord.

She's not to be underestimated.

Spain. What did you
have to promise them?

That I would secure the
remains of the Urca de Lima's gold

and return it to Havana.

Vane: You set aside
some of the gold?

- She did.
- How much?

- Eh.
- You don't think there's any way

we can challenge that
blockade directly, do you?

Teach: We're working on
something to even the odds a bit.

Get her inside!

Flint: I wonder if the
pardons are the victory

and that the most
enlightened thing that I can do

is let this be the
end of Captain Flint.

The pirates must be eliminated.

Madi: Why not consult Father?

Your father aids us from
his position in Nassau.

- Please, come with me.
- Lower your weapons. Now!

No, no! No!

Flint: I saw a dead dog

lying in the grass
when I was young.

She was an old bitch in life,

but just a pup in death.

I remember seeing the
first flies set on her eyes.

How strange it was
that they looked so alive

and yet did not move.

That was the first moment

that I wondered what this
moment would feel like.

Miranda: James, you resented me

because we were so close...

and I threw it all away.

If you join me now,

what if I resented you
for the same reason?

Flint: What would I
be throwing away?

You can't see it yet, can you?

You are not alone.

Who is that?

That is the king.

Wind's in our favor.

Should be arriving in
Ocracoke in three days' time.

My fourth wife, Constance...

A sweet girl, bright,
but she had her notions.

Cricket in the house
means good luck,

a moth in the house, bad.

And the bed... Jesus, the bed.

No hats on it, no
brooms near it,

nor any clothes in it
that were worn outdoors.

Any violation of this
brought great misfortune.

I mean, for an
otherwise sane woman,

she had these pockets of complete
and thorough madness within her.

Although it's been six years
since I've seen her face...

to this day, if I...

If I see a broom by a
bed, I... I have to move it.

What the fuck are
you talking about?

A woman has that
power, God-given,

to leave her marks on you.

And it's far harder to
dispose of the marks

than the woman who left them.

You think I'm having
second thoughts

about leaving Nassau?

That that is the mark
Eleanor Guthrie left on me?

I know it is.

And I know that
you're conflicted

about what you have left behind.

But the question is
whether you can cling fast

to the truth we both
hold in our hearts,

the truth that makes
us of the same mind.

And what truth is that?

That a lion keeps no den.

Because the savanna,
all the space within it,

everything that walks
and crawls upon it

belongs to him.

When I talked like that, they
all looked at me like I was mad.

They never understood.

There's hardly any of us who do.

Man: Sails!

- Three masts.
- Colors?

Spanish.

Signal the fleet.

Set a course to pursue.

It was never a rule.
No one ever decided it.

It was just something
of an understanding.

Spanish ships are to be avoided.

Yeah, for fear of
reprisals against Nassau.

I suppose that's one less
thing to worry about now, then.

Give us the room.

They say you are dead.

They say you were defeated
by Captain Hornigold.

They only truly ever have
half the story, don't they?

Yeah.

It's fallen. Hasn't it?

A pardon was offered,

and it brought down our defenses

without a shot bein' fired.

Did no one put
up any resistance?

Not even Vane?

Obviously he took no pardon,

but it was all he and Captain
Teach could do to escape.

Teach?

Teach was there on the island?

He was. But he and Captain Vane

slipped away with most
of the men and ships

that might have been willing
to resist the occupation.

I wonder if ever a war

so loudly anticipated
ended so quietly.

How?

How did you do all this?

Before the Rosario
raids, there were warnings,

whispers that Spain
intended to retaliate

against Richard Guthrie
and his growing pirate empire.

I could not leave my wife

and daughter in harm's way,

so I secured them passage here.

It was smaller
then, disorganized,

but it was far more remote
than other camps like it,

safer.

They agreed to
take my family in,

and I agreed to
offer them support

from my position in Nassau.

Of the hundreds of slaves
killed by the Spanish soldiers

during the raid, no
one even questioned me

when I suggested that my wife
and daughter were amongst them.

Not even Eleanor.

When Richard
Guthrie left the island,

I was left to oversee
his business,

but the scrutiny of
wearing the crown

made secrecy difficult
and travel near impossible.

Once Eleanor was
ready to assume control,

I encouraged it so
that I might manage

the survival of both places

outside the scrutiny of either.

For as long as I have known you,

you've been two
wholly separate men.

Until now.

Now I can no longer do that

which I am needed to do.

Now my wife, my daughter,
and all who live here

are in the gravest of danger.

They must find a way to
steal what they need to live.

They must learn
the skill fast and well

lest it lead them to
be discovered here.

And they will
need help to do so.

Your help.

A partnership?

He said that?

With Nassau gone, they've
lost a vital supply line.

We would go out on the
account... Hunt for them,

using this place as a
hidden base for operations.

However, he acknowledged
that he lacks the ability

to ratify any such arrangement.

He has authority here, but
he doesn't have the final word.

The queen.

Her concerns about our
trustworthiness remain.

He said that he would arrange for
me to appeal directly to the queen,

try and convince her
that we are worthy allies,

and that given
the fall of Nassau,

we are partners well matched.

They have a home with
no means to supply it,

we the other way around.

And what if you
can't convince her?

I will put the
case as best I can.

But if I feel that it
isn't happening...

Then I get in close to the queen

and make it clear

that either everyone
on this crew is released

with a guide to take them
safely back to the beach,

or the queen dies
within days of the king.

Even if you could get to her
without being killed in the process,

even if you could get
the knife to her throat

and convince them to let us go,

you would never
get out of this alive.

Told you once lived here.

For a short time,
when I was very young.

Before my father
moved us to the interior

and the opium traders
claimed it for themselves.

Home to a smuggler,
den to opium fiends,

salon to a pirate king.

Suppose I'll fit right in.

Before any of that, it was home

to a long line of governors.

It will remember.

Yes, well, let's hope I
don't fit in too well with them.

Man: Sir?

For your signature.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

What is that?

Petitions to the Lloyds,
attesting to the fact

that the damage to the
"Willing Mind" last night

was no fault of ours
and thus insurable.

A month from now,
somewhere in Cornwall,

a clerk will be asked to
draft a letter to Charles Vane,

asking for his
version of events.

And they'll withhold
payment for years,

awaiting his response.

Between you and I, if
there were ever a moment

in which I sympathized with
the desire to tear down the flag

and declare myself in open
rebellion against the Crown,

it's when dealing with
the insurance company.

He isn't coming back.

Charles Vane is no longer
a part of Nassau's story.

You know that, yes?

Man: My lord.

Do you have it?

Excavation of the
northwest tunnel is complete.

After significant work
to... Do you have it?

The main vaults are
secured, as are its contents...

A sizable fortune
in Spanish gold.

Thank you, Captain.

The Commodore will
take control of the structure

and ready the gold
for transport to Havana.

Wait.

Any news from the fort as to
Captain Rackham's whereabouts?

I'm told he and Anne
Bonny fled before our arrival.

Their... their
whereabouts are unknown.

Why?

Spain may be appeased, but
the street is still an open question.

If you want me to help
you play that game,

I need to know where
all the players are.

I see.

And when do you
presume this game begins?

It already has.

Next man.

- Sir.
- Your name.

Fowler...

I am once again a citizen
of the British Empire.

Mm-hmm. Congratulations.

- And your profession?
- Sailmaker, sir.

Thank you.

Next man. Name?

It's done?

I do solemnly swear.

Signed my name, and my
account with the law is now square.

A few hours ago, any
magistrate in the Empire

would have hanged
me without hesitation.

Children would have cheered,

women would
have taken comfort...

One less villain in the world.

Men would have looked on in awe,

wondering what
adventures and mischief

they'd missed in their
lives that I'd lived in mine.

And with the stroke
of a pen, it's all gone

as if it never existed,

rendering me nothing more

than a humble tavern bookkeeper.

I sincerely hope this doesn't
diminish your attraction to me.

- Man: Move aside.
- Man #2: Coming through. Step aside.

When weeks went by

with no news of your sentence
having been carried out,

I assumed an arrangement
had been reached

to carry it out privately

or a deal had been brokered

to commute your execution
to a long prison stay.

I suppose I should
have seen this,

that somehow your
grip on this place

would be too strong
to be denied by a king,

his laws, or even your death.

In the winter, the sun drives
hard through those windows.

You'll be blinded there lest you
keep them shuttered all day long.

I had the desk where
it was for a reason,

though I suppose you
haven't been here long enough

to know how to
sit in that chair.

So here you are,

and I do not imagine
you came to decorate.

The governor is going
to announce today

the formation of a
governing council.

12 seats.

Six filled from his ranks,

six filled from merchants
native to the island.

It will signal the
governor's clear intent

to give the people of
New Providence Island

a meaningful say
in their own futures,

and we would
like you to bless it.

I am sorry. Are you
offering me a seat?

No. The six names have
already been chosen,

and yours is not among them.

I own title to more of the
street than you ever did.

I earn as much legitimate
income as you ever did.

I have no enemies
and strong friends.

I am the one they
all come to here

to make peace between
them when no one else can.

You are a pirate.

Excuse me?

The first thing he
asked me to do

was to identify pirate
ringleaders on the island.

Organizers.

And you named me?

Undermined my reputation
with him before he...

You abetted the practice.

You signed articles,
for Christ's sakes.

You held a share
in an active crew.

What I have done so
thoroughly pales in comparison

to what you did before me.

And I lost everything for it.

I lost everything.

Remember that when
you sit in that chair.

You were wise to come to me.

If I remain silent
about this council

or, worse yet,
oppose its formation,

it will sow all manner of mistrust and
apprehension amongst my colleagues.

For if I can be so easily
discarded, who next?

Which is why you
won't remain silent.

Really? Why?

'Cause this is important to him,

that the street understands

that his intentions are genuine

and he means to be a friend.

If you undermine that,

he can make life
very difficult for you.

You should know

people do not speak
to me that way anymore.

Be smart.

Was I on that list?

That night before
you were taken,

when you made
the first of your lists

of those you
wanted to see dead...

Mr. Stayton, Mr. Atz,
Mr. Featherstone,

Jack, Anne...
was I on that list?

No.

The night I was taken,

did you inform Hornigold
where he could find me?

No.

Ellers.

Ellers: Captain?

Get me some rum.

You think that this is
something you can ignore.

It isn't.

I said I would hear him.

How is that ignoring anything?

You said you would hear him.

I need you to listen.

I understand that you think
that Flint is the answer to all of it.

I would like to tell
you that I agree

if for no other reason than to
appease you so you can rest.

But in the state that you're in,

the one thing I swear I
will not do is lie to you.

I will hear him.

I will look in his
eyes while he tells me

that he can be trusted
to be a partner to us.

But if I for a
moment doubt him...

Do you trust me to
make this decision?

Of course I do.

Shall I come back?

Come.

Rest.

Did she listen to you?

No.

You?

I removed one of them
from the cage last night,

spoke briefly with him.

Why?

You're my father,
and I love you...

but I do not know you.

Those men, they are your life.

I wanted to know
it, at least a little.

I will be all right.

You're against it.

An escape plan that involves

the certainty of
losing our captain

in lieu of potentially
getting a powerful ally.

"Potentially" being
the operative word.

And if he tries and
comes up short,

we may lose our only shot
of gettin' out of here alive.

This would seem
to be no choice at all.

Maybe, though you seem
awfully eager to get rid of him.

'Course I am.

We propped him up because
his strength as a captain

was the thing that was
gonna keep us alive.

But now his death
becomes that thing.

I understand that
you've made gains

towards a rapport with
the captain in recent days,

but if he wants to sacrifice
himself so that we might go free,

I mean, that might be
the first selfless thing

he's done for our benefit
since we've known him.

I'd ask you not
to get in his way.

Open.

Teach: Charles.

My lord.

I think you know who I am.

May we have a word
in private, please?

With everything
I have sacrificed

to be a part of Nassau's future,

please understand,

I cannot endorse a
version of that future

in which I am still on
the outside of it looking in.

You want a seat on the council.

You say you want to
be a friend of Nassau.

Well, I am Nassau.

You question whether I
deserve this friendship.

It is a fair thing to ask.

So I suggest, like the
longest lasting of friendships,

the one that lasts to the grave,

I substantiate my worthiness

to enter into it with a dowry.

For obvious reasons,
that is only a sample.

There are several
thousand more behind it,

assuming we are able to
reach an agreement here today.

These are profits
from running a tavern?

Eleanor: Jesus. It's
from the Spanish gold.

Money you held out
from the fort... your share.

Not as far as you know.

Not as far as Spain knows.

As far as anyone knows,

the entirety of the Spanish gold

was captured today
in the fort by your men.

And this?

This comes from nowhere.

That is its virtue.

No covenants, no conditions.

No history.

Just an unexpected
investment from a loyal resident.

An investment so
substantial, I might add,

it would dramatically,
if not definitively,

improve your
prospects for success.

And what exactly would
you want in exchange

for this investment?

An end to this conversation.

An end to questions
about my past

and a new beginning
in which we all agree

there is no history
in this place anymore,

only a future in which
you and I are truly friends.

Billy doesn't give a
shit if you die tomorrow.

But I suppose you
knew that already.

You know, the
strange thing is, I...

I should be with Billy.

Until most recently, I'm quite
certain I would have been.

Unbothered by the
idea of trading your life

for the rest of the crew's.

And yet, for some reason,

right now I am bothered by it.

But I understand it.

I understand the allure

of ensuring that no
one will ever think you

the villain you fear you are.

What a waste, it seems to me,

knowing it doesn't
have to be this way,

knowing the man who talked me

into giving a shit
about this crew,

why, he could talk those
people out there into anything.

If he wanted to.

Jesus.

Billy.

I have great respect
for your husband,

and I know what
he wants me to say...

That you have no choice but to
use me and my men to hunt for you,

that I am your only
means of survival.

But let's be honest.

If that is all I can offer you,

then my men and I are dead
before the sun rises tomorrow,

because you know there is
always a choice to be made,

and you don't trust me at all.

So...

let us assume that I can
offer you something better.

You have hidden in
this place for a lifetime,

hidden from the harsh realities

that lie beyond this veil

that you have constructed here,

but the moment that
that shot entered his belly,

that veil began to unravel,

and sooner or later,

you are going to have
to confront these realities,

chief among them
being that England takes

whatever, whenever,
however it wants.

Lives.

Loves. Labor.

Spirits. Homes.

It has taken them from me.

I imagine that it has
taken it from you.

And when that veil
drops altogether,

they will come for more.

You're suggesting
that you could help us

prevent England from
taking these things?

No, I am suggesting
that we help each other

start taking things back,

and it starts with Nassau.

Flint: You cannot stay here.

This camp's
secrecy is its virtue,

but that secrecy is going.

Nassau is defendable.

Nassau can supply itself.

Is that not exactly
the sort of place

that could replace this?

A place that you could settle?

Settle? Governor Woodes Rogers

holds Nassau Town
with a full company

of British regulars.

He holds the harbor
with a small navy.

He holds the men on the
street with his pardons.

Woodes Rogers has
an inoperative fort,

responsibility for an
administrative nightmare

that isn't going away just
because he wants it to,

and an island full of hunters
that may be placated for now,

but could be awoken.

That I could awaken.

How do you propose to do that?

They pledged to follow me
when they thought I was alive.

They turned when
they thought I was gone.

So I will come
back from the dead

and lay claim to what I am owed.

Let's say that by some miracle

we could dislodge the
British from Nassau.

I could not possibly hope to
defend it with my numbers.

Your numbers?

For every man in your camp,

there are thousands
somewhere in the West Indies

living under the same yoke,

chained in fields,
pressed on ships,

sold into indenture.

When they see a sitting governor

protected by His Majesty's Navy,

deposed by an alliance
of pirates and slaves,

how many consider
joining that fight?

How many thousands of men

will flock to Nassau,
join your ranks,

and help you defend it?

What does a colonial power do

when the men
whose toil powers it

lay down their
shovels, take up swords,

and say, "No more"?

Bring down Nassau,

maybe you bring it all down.

Teach: Spanish intelligence.

They'll carry files
from station to station,

relaying information up
the chain of command.

Looks like this
was a heavy load.

What do you think they
could have had in there?

Well, it could be inventories
for silver shipments.

Could be treasure
fleet schedules.

Could be private letters
of the goddamn king.

Could be anything.

Captain. Your name's in here.

What?

The reports from the Bahamas.

English operations in the area

and a dossier on
the new governor.

Part of an invasion plan

in case they decide to go in.

No, this isn't remotely a plan.

It's just someone's
notes. Fragments.

Is there anything
of value in it?

Not unless we have an
interest in invading Nassau,

which I don't think we do.

Do we?

No, we don't.

Ellers: Governor hasn't
even been here that long.

How do they learn anything
about him so quickly?

Well, same way they do all the
British governors in the Americas.

They have a spy in his office.

What are you thinking?

At the end of every great
achievement that has ever been,

I imagine one looks
back and is reminded

of the one moment when
good fortune reached out

and gave the thing its blessing.

I think this is the equivalent

of five years' worth
of tax revenue

without an ounce
of the resentment

that traditionally
comes with it.

I've felt fortune's other
hand so many times,

the one that takes
instead of gives,

had it snatch away victories

that by all rights
should have been mine.

That feeling I know too well

and still bear its scars.

This...

This feels different.

What happened that time?

How did you get that scar?

Combat with a Spanish
galleon off the coast of Mexico.

We had routed her.

By all rights, her colors
should have been struck.

And they were, just
minutes after the event.

But in that moment,

one of her stern chasers fired a
shot at the most implausible angle.

Nothing more than the
desperation of a dying thing,

but that shot hit
us right at the helm.

When the smoke cleared,
my brother was dead

and I had this.

Though I suppose it's some
strange irony that if he hadn't died,

it wouldn't have made for
nearly as interesting a book

and I probably wouldn't
be here right now.

I'm sorry. Were you summoned?

Please forgive me.

This is so foreign to me.

I... I don't know how to do it.

About six months ago,

I was approached by a man
who introduced himself as John

and said his employers wished

to monitor your operation
to retake Nassau,

said they had a vested interest.

I assumed this had something
to do with your investors,

which seemed
perfectly legitimate.

They offered me a
significant amount of money.

I said... yes.

It turns out the man's name
is Juan Antonio Grandal

and his employer is the
intelligence department

of the Casa de Contratación.

Upon our arrival, I
received a query from them.

It said the department spies

had learned of a
series of transactions

to exchange a
significant portion

of the Urca de Lima's prize gold

for more portable commodities.

An attempt to walk
away with their money

without them knowing of it...

a scheme they
find most insulting.

I was then asked if you had yet
learned of this converted cache.

So standing outside
the door just now,

I found myself faced
with two choices...

Report what I had just heard,

that you are considering
keeping this money

and know that Nassau will
likely burn for it and me with it...

or I could open the door

and warn you of the full
scope of the danger you face

if you do not return the
entirety of the hidden cache

along with the
gold from the fort.

I cannot even begin to imagine

what would motivate
you to tell a lie like this.

So let's assume for the moment

that you are telling the truth.

I will see this money secured

and return it with the rest of
the gold in a matter of hours.

You'll relay this
to your contact.

No.

No?

Why not?

The department has estimated

the approximate total
value of the cache

based on the scope of
the exchanges involved,

and that is only half of it.

I've been thinking
about our plan.

Yeah?

A skiff to Port Royal,

connect with your
acquaintances there,

purchase ship, hire crew,

make way back to the continent,

at which point the
money will be secure

and we can establish
whatever future we choose...

The plan.

Yeah?

Yeah, there's a
problem with the plan.

- It was your plan.
- I know.

But I'm afraid I might have
overlooked a critical step,

something I'm
not prepared to do.

What step?

We'd need to change our names.

Eventually, the
money will protect itself.

It'll hire guards,
it'll make us friends,

it'll shield itself with
investments and partners,

but as long as it is
in its current form,

it is as vulnerable
as a newborn babe.

To protect it, given the
attention our names will draw to it,

we'll need recourse to the law.

And at the moment, the
only thing the law wants

with Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny

is their necks in nooses.

To have that protection,

we'll need to assume
new identities.

So we change
our names for a bit.

- Who gives a shit?
- I do.

A little bit. I do.

With everything I've
lost in recent days,

I can't afford to
lose the name, too.

Not when it is so easy to keep.

- No.
- Just listen.

Are you out of
your fucking mind?

Charles was the only
one they singled out.

They could have
mentioned us. They didn't.

They had pardons for
unrepentant murderers back there.

If that is the case, then there
are certainly pardons for us, too.

Jesus Christ, Jack.

It'll take us half
a day, if that.

We walk into the tavern,
we sign our names,

and then not only are we square
with the law, our money is, too.

We did it. We beat
the fucking game.

Walk another half
mile, we get in that boat,

and we win.

And you wanna go back?

Then this... you stay.

Maybe it's better that way.
You can watch the money.

I'll return within a few hours.

We'll be on the
water by nightfall.

I'll meet you here.
Stay off the road.

No more than a few hours.

Promise.

Mate.

I'm going to admit
something to you.

Please don't take
this the wrong way...

but I didn't think there
was a chance in hell

that was actually going to work.

Me neither.

Thank you... for
opening that door.

So what happens now?

Now we marshal
whatever resources we can,

as many ships as we can muster

and allies to sail them,

men resolved to defy the pardon

and ready to join a war.

Now we go find Charles Vane.