All language subtitles for bss01e06

That gentleman
and his daughter,
the money they took,

ain't never coming back.

We're going to recreate
my father's system here
without my father.

A consortium with all of you
sharing in the profits.

I'll do that the moment you
lift the ban on Captain Vane.

Charles Vane is an animal.

You have until dark
to come to your senses.

Do you have some problem
with us holding onto
that whore?

It's up to us
when we're done with her.

Hunting the Maria Aleyne
was never about money.

It was an execution.
Good men will die

for some hidden agenda,
the Barlow woman's agenda.

Boston is more forgiving
of one's past.

With my family's assistance,

one might find
a new life there.

Captain Bryson sailed
the Velasco route

for 10 years
and was never boarded.

He's in a reinforced hold.

There's no way to get
the guns off the boat.

Anybody we send down
there is just gonna get
cut to shreds.

Mr. Guthrie's orders
were explicit.

No matter what,
I was to make sure that
you were on this ship.

"I sent a message
to the captain of
the Scarborough.

I told him where
he would find you."

Good God,
the Scarborough!

How far have we drifted?

Not far.
A few miles.

Fucking Scarborough's
out there, Billy.

I can feel it.
Just waiting for
a whiff of us

so she can set
those guns ablaze.

Lars is almost ready.

He'll have that bunker
open in no time.

Four hours till sunup.

If we can't get
those guns before then,

Flint will let us
leave, right?

Here you go.

The wick's fast,
so don't light her

until you're right up
to the bunker.

Get it through
the murder hole
and then take cover.

The vanguard will
be right behind you.

While Bryson and his men
are choking on the smoke,

we'll bust down the door,
take him out,

grab our guns
and be on the way home.

Did he say
anything to you?

About what?

Bryson slipping off
with our guns is one thing,

but bringing
the Scarborough with him?

How did he even know
the navy was around?

Richard Guthrie
must have been involved.

No shit.
Do you think?

Where I get confused
is that Richard Guthrie

was supposed
to be under guard at
the Barlow woman's home.

Isn't that what he told us?

I mean, what do we
really know about her?

She shares
his love of books?

Isn't it about time we start
asking some real questions?

Billy, not now.

Please.

He wants you to take it.

To place it in the hole
above your head.

To signal to pirates.

He says if we help them,

they'll bring us back
to their home.

No.

He says--
I know what he says.

He says in Nassau
a slave can be free,

get a job and a wage.

Maybe for him.
He's strong.

A few others.

The rest of you,
don't kid yourself.

You are cargo,
in Nassau or otherwise.

You would decide this
for us all?

This has nothing
to do with you.

We have a chance to be free.

I don't care.

There are weapons
on this ship

the pirates plan
to return to Nassau,

weapons that are very
dangerous to someone I love.

No matter what happens
to me or to you,

those weapons
must not be returned.

Time has come for us
to tell those

who are aiming
to make us slaves

they are no longer welcome
in this place.

Not any longer!

Fuck 'em!
Fucking bastards.

No fucking longer.

Two hours.

Two fucking hours
she's been holed up
in there.

Well, I for one think
this is a good sign.

What?

Clearly she's taking
the decision seriously.

I'm sorry, you think
it's a good sign she's
taking this seriously?

I can't even-- Jesus.

What I believe
Captain Lawrence
meant to say

is that as long
as it takes for Miss Guthrie

to emerge from behind
that door and lift the ban
on Captain Vane--

a decision which,
a few hours ago,

she said would be taken
over her dead body--

then Captain Hornigold
over there

walks away from our nascent
shipping consortium,

killing it in its cradle.

He withdraws his men
from the street,

at which point
Captain Lilywhite
and his mob

are free to burn
everything in sight with
the Guthrie name on it.

All of Nassau will,
most likely, descend
into fiery mayhem

from which we will all
be lucky to escape alive.

Every moment that
that door remains closed

is a moment that Miss Guthrie
is considering that outcome

as a viable,
even preferable
alternative

to merely swallowing
her pride.

I don't know.

Perhaps you need
to have a little bit
more faith in people.

I'll take the good news
to Captain Lilywhite.

Let him know
he can stand down.

Good news, everyone!

The cunt's knuckled under.

We're back in
fucking business.

You hear that, eh?

So what's this now?

She don't want no one
touching the whore.

What the fuck's your problem?

Another step
and I'll show you.

Mr. Hamund, permit me
a moment with our friend here.

Talk some sense
into her, Jack.

Before she goes
and does something stupid.

Tell me
this is not happening.

Tell me you weren't
about to fight Mr. Hamund
over that fucking whore.

Don't call her that.

It would appear that
I've failed to appreciate

just how deeply
this situation
has disturbed you.

But if you're intent
on following this course
of action,

then I suppose we should
do our farewells now

because I don't think I can
stomach watching the men

throwing you into
that tent as well and having
their way with you,

which is where I fear
this story ends

unless you pull
your shit together.

Captain says no light.

I know.

"To the Honorable Justice
Addington Thomas,

Massachusetts Bay Colony.

I petition you
under the advisement
of your friend

Mr. Richard Guthrie

to bestow your favor
and influence.

You may know
Captain James Flint

by reputation

through stories
of his past misdeeds,

but you might not know
of his desire to repent.

He is a good man,
a decent man,

eager to renounce
his transgressions at sea

and seek life
in a part of the world
willing to accept a man

humbled and penitent.

Were such
a thing possible,

would such a place exist?

It is with this very hope
that I write you today.

I've enclosed
a bill of exchange

for £500

to be spent
at your discretion

toward procuring whatever
permissions necessary.

I only urge speed.

He is caught
in a dangerous plot
with wicked men

who will most certainly
kill him when they learn

of his betrayal."

Jesus.

"Believe me, your obliged
and faithful servant,

Miranda Barlow."

Get me another plan.

Fuck.

I need to talk
to you now.

I found it
in Bryson's cabin.

It's from
the Barlow woman.

She wants a pardon
for Flint in Boston.

She says we're gonna
kill him when we learn
of his betrayal.

And?

It says betrayal.

I can see that.

What do you want me to do
about it right now?

I know about
the Maria Aleyne.

What?

I know Flint killed
those people for her.

I know Morley saw it
and brought it to you.

And I know
you did nothing.

He played games with
his crewmen's lives then.

He's doing it again now
and he knows he can
get away with it

because we're
protecting him.

Because you
are protecting him.
Enough.

If you want to go to the crew
with this, be my guest.

But I will do everything
in my power to frustrate you.
Know that.

How can you say that?

Because we're in
fucking battle right now

and I will not undermine
his control of what is,

frankly,
a shitty situation

based on a letter
written by a woman

neither of us know
a thing about.

Just promise me that
when we get back to Nassau,

we will deal with this.

Everything all right?

Fine.

Billy's come up
with our next move.

It's three hours
till sunup.

Perhaps you'd like to share it
with the rest of us.

Pastor Lambrick.

It's later than
I'm comfortable
taking company.

You shouldn't be here.

I live here, Pastor.
Or hadn't you noticed?

Mr. Underhill agreed
to take Mr. Guthrie in.

Mr. Guthrie spun
such a tale for him.

He said he's been
bribing the Lords Proprietor
in London for years.

Said he planned
to use that fact

to extort preferential
treatment from them

when England reasserts
her rule here.

He promised wealth
and prosperity.

Even promised to see
Underhill declared governor.

And that was it.

How nice for Mr. Guthrie.

It is nice.

He now sleeps safely on
Mr. Underhill's plantation

behind two dozen
of the most brutal overseers
in the New World.

Behind walls and guns
and swords.

I need no protection.

Mrs. Barlow,

Mr. Guthrie has betrayed
Captain Flint.

And you've helped him
to do it.

If half of what I've heard
of Captain Flint is true,

he will not react
to your betrayal kindly.

You do not understand
any of this, Pastor.

Then help me understand.

Help me, because I cannot
in good conscience

walk away from here
believing you to be
in such peril.

All right.

Good evening, cunt.

If I wanted to kill you,
I'd have done it already.

What a piece of shit
you are.

Nose in the air.

Spoiled cunt
playing at our business.

Pains me being
this close to you.

Should tell you how
fucking desperate I am.

Desperate for what?

Your help.
Beg your pardon?

Your friend
on the beach.

She fucked us
and that needed answering.

But then that night,

she told you
to go fuck yourself.

Should have toasted her.

If she had a cock,
we probably would have.

What Hamund's been
doing to her...

ain't right.

What do you want me
to do about it?

I've tried to help.
She didn't want it.
Now my hands are tied.

I can't--
You could kill him.

I'd do it myself,
but the men saw us feuding.

I go near him,
I'll have them
all at my throat

and no one at my back.

Now's the time.
Captain's gone.

Don't know how long for.

Wait, gone?
Gone where?

I don't know.
I don't much give a shit.

Left alone on a skiff
this afternoon.

But if he returns,
he'll be another one
standing at Hamund's side.

If you're already
suspected by the men,

what's to say they
don't suspect you no matter
how Hamund were to disappear?

What's to say that suspicion
doesn't lead to questions?

And what's to say those
questions don't lead to me?

You fucking coward.

Why? Because
I've used my head

before making this mess
even worse?

'Cause for all your shit,
all your posturing,

you won't lift a finger
to help her.

I didn't say that.

You said my plan
was too dangerous.

Your plan isn't
dangerous enough.

Eight men
left on your crew.

Eight men
who support Hamund.
You said it yourself.

We kill him,
they all become threats
to both of us.

It's foolish.
Then what the fuck
would you suggest?

You want to kill Hamund,

then you have
to kill them all.

They disappear
all at once tonight

with neither of us
implicated.

There's eight of them.

Their guard is up.
It's impossible.

It's not impossible.

We just need
a little help.

I don't know
how else to say this

except no.

I suppose
there's fuck, no.

Or fuck you.

I think you
misunderstand.

I wasn't asking you
to help me.

I was granting you
the opportunity to help me.

But now,
because of your tone,

I'm disinclined
to be so generous.

Beg pardon?

Now you'll beg me for it.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

All those days ago
when you first proposed

this arrangement
of yours to Flint--

remaining with his crew,
holding onto the last
piece of the schedule

to ensure you weren't
disposed of--

when he asked you
what's to stop him
from killing you

when all's said and done,
do you remember your answer?

No, but I'm guessing
you do.

I believe you said,

"We might be friends
by then."

I'm sorry,
what are you driving at?

You've spent enough time
with the man now.

Does he strike you
as the type of person

who would ever
under any circumstance

leave a loose end
like you walking around?

When I took your advice
and lifted the ban
on Charles Vane,

I became the center
of all commerce on this
island again.

Someone you don't want
as an enemy.

Someone Flint doesn't
want as an enemy.

The way I see it,
I may be the only person
in this world

who can dissuade him
from killing you.

I had a very
different life

before I came here,

a life I shared
with my husband.

He was a special man,

a man of ideas...

about the world,

about the order
of things.

Writers, artists,
men of science--

they'd fill our drawing room
night after night

to talk and argue.

Sometimes just
to listen to him.

In some ways
he was like you--

a shepherd
to his flock.

He would have loved
to have met you.

Me?

You think I can play
devil's advocate.

Thomas would have played
that game with you

from dusk until dawn.

And everything
you hold sacred,

he'd leave in tatters.

Not from malice or hate,

but from love.

From a desire to see
the yoke of shame

lifted from your shoulders.

You think I am ashamed?

My husband
and I were happy.

But in London,
a happy life

can often be
a very dangerous thing.

Something that other people
simply cannot abide.

Thomas learned
that lesson all too well.

Captain Flint was
Thomas's closest friend.

And after his death,
he saw fit

to spirit me here
for my own safety.

Flint brought you here?

You're right,
I don't understand.

I just told you.
Captain Flint is
my deliverer.

There's nothing more
you need to understand.

Why are you here?

I'm concerned
for your safety.

It's late.

You knew I'd be alone.
It's inappropriate.

You're not here
because you want to
protect me, Pastor.

You're here because
you want to fuck me.

I'm sorry.
We dangle?

Four men suspended
over the side.

Axes, augers, charges.

It's a rapid penetration
to get a charge through
the hole.

Cause disruption,
distraction

while we move on the bunker
through the hold below.

Saw Avery try it once.

And it worked?
I said I saw it tried.

Volunteers?

Paxton.

Bobby.

Dooly.

Logan.

Something wrong?

Even if we do
hack through,

we'd be dangling there
like bait on a string.

It's suicide.

We don't have time
for a debate, Mr. Logan.

Now I gave you an order.

And what happens when
those orders get us killed?

You send in four more?

Billy, tell him
I'm right.

Mr. Logan...

fall in.

Billy, tell him
I'm right.

Captain--

Mr. Logan makes
a valid point.

Unfortunately,
now is not the time.

Anybody else
got a point

they would
like to make?

While we are in battle,

the captain's orders
are the law.

That is what
we signed up to.

That is what we agreed.

Now the order's
been given.

Heed it!

Captain!

I can't believe
I didn't see it before.

It was staring us
right in the face.

Those cannons aren't
the only thing Bryson has
locked down there with him.

38 slaves.

You think they put that flag
there as a signal to us?

Well, it wasn't there
three hours ago.

And if not us, I couldn't
tell you who they are
trying to signal.

Seven, eight...

nine priced over £100.

That's nine strong men
ready to fight Bryson
from below.

Yeah, well, you're presuming
those nine men

will choose to take up arms
and join in a fight

they couldn't possibly know
or care less about.

Given their
current situation,

my presumption
is that there are no
nine men on earth

who wouldn't jump
at the chance for
a little fight.

What, you got
a better idea?

Well, how do you imagine we get
them out of their chains?

You will never
see them again.

What?

This person you'd give
your life to protect,

give our lives
to protect...

whoever they are,
you'll never see them again.

You must love them
very much,

but I do not think you
have thought this through.

You don't know me.

And you don't know
what you're talking about.

I know that if we reach
our destination,

we may never have another
chance like this.

There is no way.

You and I,
we are both in this hold,

but we are not
in the same place.

How many times must you
have told yourself

that you're special?

That your master
thinks you're different
from the rest?

Maybe you're right.

But I know those men above
better than you.

And when they put you
in these,

they don't mean
to let you go.

You have a chance
to go home again,

yet you just sit there.

Maybe you're right.

You and I
are not the same.

What the fuck
is going on down here?

Sir.

It's this one.

Heave!

Together, lads.
And...
Heave.

What do they think
they're doing?

Come.

Heave!
Again!

Heave!

Put your back in it, boys!

Secure the hold, Mr. Hayes.
Something's wrong.

Excuse me.
Mr. Hamund?

Who the fuck are you?

My name is John Silver.

And I have
a proposition for you.

I've heard your crew has
been freed to hunt again.

And I understand with
Mr. Rackham out of favor,

you're the man the crew
now looks to.

Seems our paths were meant
to meet in this moment.

Me with something to sell,
and you with means to use it.

Piss off.

I was the whore's partner,

the one who stole
the page from Flint

and then tried
to sell it to you.

You're that new one.

The cook they took on.
That I am.

But perhaps not for long.

This is where I think you
and I can help each other.

The night the exchange
was meant to take place
at the wrecks,

I lost the schedule
to Captain Flint.

But I escaped
with my hide intact

and my anonymity.

I've remained
with the crew since then,

but I believe now
I've tempted fate
long enough.

Flint departed,
I remained.

My intent--
to sell the page again

and leave Nassau with
something to show for it.

Seeing as we theoretically
already had a deal,

I thought your crew was
the logical place to start.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

You just said Flint
has the schedule.

He has the page
the schedule is written on,

but I saw that page.

I think there's a good chance
I can remember most of it.

For the right price.

Are you a fucking lunatic?

What's to stop me
from killing you

for getting us
into this mess?

Wait.

I am willing to give
a steep discount on our
original agreement.

We don't have any fucking
money left, you shit.

Rackham lost it
chasing you.

I fail to see
how that's possible.

Mr. Hamund.
May I help you?

You told us you lost
our pearls in the wrecks.

5,000 pesos worth.
Isn't that right?

Yes.

Because now I'm told
that you gave half our pearls

to the whore up front

before you ever
left for the wrecks.

Which would mean
that half the pearls
never went to the wrecks.

They was on the whore
when your bitch reeled her in.

Leaving us to wonder

where the fuck
are they now?

I don't know where you're
getting your information from,

but I can assure you,
it is mistaken.

She threw that whore
in the tent

long before we got to her.

Yes, but the whore
had no pearls.

Neither I nor Miss Bonny
would be so stupid as to
steal from you.

And even if I were, I would
certainly never be so stupid

as to trust a whore
to act as escrow.

Someone is lying to you.

If you tell me who it was,
I might be able to help you
figure out why.

I'd tell you, Jack...

but I don't see
how that much matters

seeing that we found these

in your tent just now.

Look at you now.

Where's the fucking
rest of them?

Buried.

By the wrecks.

Darling.

I'm so very
disappointed in you.

I believe
I'm entitled to this.

I've arranged
a room for you.

I don't imagine I'll be
doing much sleeping

till I know this is finished,
thank you very much.

Thought I'd wait it out here,
if you don't mind.

Heave ho!
Pull!

Come on!
That's it!

Heave!

All right, lads,
coming over.

Coming over.

Okay, that's good.

I certainly didn't expect
to find you down in the hold.

Not after you betrayed
Miss Guthrie on behalf
of her father.

Our agreement was I would
stay behind to protect
Eleanor from you.

You think what
she and I hope to achieve

for Nassau is impossible.

That I'll be
the death of her?

I lost six men
chasing down this ship.

Nearly faced another mutiny
all over again.

If I had any sense,
I'd throw you to my crew.

Take the pressure off me.

But I'm not gonna do that.

I'd rather prove you wrong.

Billy.

Stow the guns
in the lower hold.

Favor the starboard.
Of course.

Right, Billy.

What?
Afraid I got loose lips?

Please, son,
I am on your side.

You've got to believe that.

Then get some answers.

Come on!

Heave!
Heave ho.

That's it.
Hold on.

Lend a hand, mate.

Perfectly good
stash of powder here.

You all right?

She saw us.

The Scarborough
had to have seen us.

There's still
great guns in the hold.

At least three
or four more.

There's no time
for delay.

The guns we've unloaded
already will have to suffice.

Cut us loose!
We're getting out of here.

Come on!

What the hell is that?

It's the Andromache's
spritsail brace.

It must have blown loose
during the explosion.

That's two knots or more
it'll drag us down.

Earlier...

when you and Mr. Gates
were having words,

you mentioned a letter.

What was in it, Billy?

Billy!

What was in it?

I think you know
what was in it.

Oh, shit!

Hard to starboard.
Bring us about.

Man overboard!

Man overboard!

It's Billy.
He fell.

Billy!
Billy!

Any sign of him?

We can't turn back.

She'll tear us to pieces.

Ambush, I presume.

Nothing out there but men
with pistols and swords.

I imagine those pearls
didn't just materialize
out of thin air.

With whom did you
scheme this?

The cunt.

Somehow I'm not surprised.

Decent fellow, Slade,
as far as I know.

Never raised a hand
against the whore.

A factor I hope
you considered before
you decided that he

and six other men
who stood by our captain
in his darkest hour,

men he considers
his brothers,

be lumped into the cost
of assuaging your offense
in this matter.

God damn it, Anne.

Do I not deserve
a say about this?

You had your say.

Now I'll have mine.

This way.

You know,
when I first met you,

I pegged you
for an easy mark.

But now,
between you and Flint,

I'm not certain who
I should be more afraid of.

I saw you earlier.

After you lifted the ban.

You were angry.

Not just about Max.

Those men out there,

they made you admit
you were wrong.

They made you feel weak.

I think you felt compelled

to let everyone
on this island know

that in this place,

no one fucks with you
and gets away with it.

Thank you

for what you did for me.

I didn't do it for you.

Old Jim Carver.

Sebastian Frakes.

William "Bones" Manderly.

Huzzah!

I hope you're pleased
with yourself.

I see. We won't be speaking
of this again, I presume.

Well, before we close
the lid on this and put
it in the ground,

one last question
if you will,

just to satisfy
my curiosity.

When you
and Miss Guthrie were
plotting this little coup,

when she asked you,
"Well, shit, Anne,

what makes you think
old Jack will go along
with this plan of ours

and not plead
the truth to his men

as he's most certainly going
to feel duty-bound to do?"

What did you say?

I told her given the choice
between them and me...

you'd choose me.

That's very
fucking touching.

And the captain?

The two of you come up
with some idea how
to deal with him

when he returns and finds out
about all this?

You don't know
where he's gone, do you?

He ain't coming back.