All language subtitles for Outlander.S06E03.Temperance.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-NTb

Previously...

Been drinking more than usual lately.

He's taken a notion

that he should have
been there to defend us.

That bastard.

I'm fine.

Lift your skirts.

Damn hand!

I have considered the matter,

and I will undergo your... operation.

What am I gonna do without you,

with another bairn coming?

- Un nain.
- What did he say?

Means he's a dwarf.

He's beautiful.

Amy McCallum's husband died a month ago,

and she was left with two young bairns.

So you decided to pass along

Chief Byrd's request for weapons.

I'm recommending we do as they ask.

The Cherokee will have their guns.

♪ Sing me a song ♪

♪ Of a lad that is gone ♪

♪ Say, could that lad ♪

♪ Be I? ♪

♪ Merry of soul ♪

♪ He sailed on a day ♪

♪ Over the sea ♪

♪ To Skye ♪

♪ Billow and breeze ♪

♪ Islands and seas ♪

♪ Mountains of rain and sun ♪

- ♪ All that was good ♪
- ♪ All that was good ♪

♪ All that was fair ♪

♪ All that was me ♪

♪ Is gone ♪

♪ Sing me a song ♪

♪ Of a lass that is gone ♪

♪ Say, could that lass ♪

♪ Be I? ♪

♪ Merry of soul ♪

♪ She sailed on a day ♪

♪ Over the sea ♪

♪ To Skye ♪

Sync and corrections by btsix
www.addic7ed.com

There he goes!

- Hurry up!
- He's floating.

- He's floating!
- Come on!

He's headed for the rapids!

There he goes!

Oh! It's Mr. MacKenzie!

There they are!

Come on! We'll catch them this way!

Oh, no!

Wait for me!

The basket!

Look! There's the basket!

Oh, no! The waterfall!

Right, ye wee bastards!

Whose idea was this?

Don't you dare run!

You shouldna touch him, sir.
You'll burn yourself.

Yeah.

They wanted to see if he'd float.

And he did; that must
mean he's the devil's seed.

Ma and Da said so.

He floated because he was in a basket.

I baptize thee Henri-Christian.

In the name of the Father and the Son

and the Holy Ghost.

You hear that?

His name's Christian.

He belongs to the Lord.

You trouble him again,
and Satan'll pop up

and drag you straight
down screaming to hell!

Germain!

Well, he's safe and dry and sleeping.

He wasn't hurt.

All is well, then.

"Well?"

I should drown the
lot of them in a well.

If they'd harmed a hair
on his wee head...

And you.

I turn my back for one moment.

I thought he was sleeping in his basket,

- and you were just...
- It was a test.

Seems their parents
told them that children

like Henri-Christian are...

a demon-born,

that the water rejects their wickedness.

Thank God they didn't try
to take him out of his basket, then.

They were afraid to touch him.

They thought he'd burn them.

And you believed this?

You think your brother is a demon?

I thought they'd leave us alone.

Oh, you know better than that!

Oh, just...

I'll talk to them.

Fergus, don't let it bother you.

Find your associates.

Tell them they're
expected in my parlor before supper

to receive a punishment.

I'll go with you, lad.

Fergus.

In the mountain villages of France,

a dwarf child would
be left for the wolves.

We wouldn't let that happen here.

We'll surround Henri-Christian
with love,

protect him,

and make sure he gets
treated like everyone else

so he'll grow up happy and...

And after he's grown?

Will he have a happy life?

Marry?

Provide for a family?

I don't see why he couldn't...

or why he can't be educated

or learn a trade,

be able to work at something.

Ah.

Something.

With respect, milady,

you have never seen the life of a dwarf.

And you have?

Oui...

à Paris.

The house itself had girls,
of course, and even children.

They were the bread and
butter of the establishment.

But there are always
those who desire the exotic...

and who will pay.

So every now and then, the Madame

would send for those
who dealt in such things,

Le Maître des Champignons.

The Master of Mushrooms?

The Dwarf Master.

Les chanterelles,
we called them, the females.

The male, they were les morilles...

exotic delicacies valued for the rarity
of their twisted shapes...

the strange savor of their flesh.

But they were not badly treated,
les champignons. They were of value.

The master would buy
such infants from their parents

or collect them from the streets.

I knew one of them quite well.

Luc, he was called.

We'd sometimes work together,

pickpocketing wealthy customers.

I found him one day in the alley...

with his throat cut.

So the Madame sent
the doorkeep to fetch the body

and sold it to a physician...

to cut them up,
to sell their parts for divination.

I'm so sorry, Fergus.

When I met you and milord,

I found a world beyond a brothel

and vowed never to
return to such a place.

That my son might
find himself in such a life...

You can't think that Jamie or I,

that-that we would
allow such a thing to happen.

No, you will not, milady,
but you will not live forever,

nor will milord nor I.

But the child will be a dwarf forever,
and that's my fault.

I wasn't there to protect my wife,
and he was beaten in the womb.

His condition has
nothing to do with what happened.

You have to believe me, Fergus.

It wasn't your fault.

I'm a physician. I know.

Fergus! Fergus!

Mr. Christie.

I've been waiting for some time.

Wasn't sure how long you'd be.

Some of the youngsters
put my grandson in the river

to see if he would float.

You know, I hope you've not been
encouraging this kind of nonsense.

Mistress Fraser,
I assure you I have not.

I am an educated man.

I'm sorry that such a thing occurred.

Is the child well?

For now.

Well...

I'll speak to the boys
and their parents.

They know I disapprove of superstitions.

It's all right.

My husband's handling the matter.

How can I help you?

It's been long enough.

My other hand is healed.

It is time.

Well, good.

Well, come inside.

I'll prepare the surgery and the Ether.

Ether?

I have agreed to the operation,

but I will not allow you to
employ your potions upon me.

Well, why not?

It is the devil's work to use such...

I thought just
Highlanders were stubborn as rocks.

Stubborn as rocks?

- Mr. Christie is refusing to...
- Mistress Fraser insists...

God wants him to have the surgery,

but the masochist is refusing the Ether.

"Masochist"?

Well, it's a word for...

people who prefer to suffer pain.

You always were an awkward bugger, Tom.

Ye must do as you please.

I can tell you from experience,
it does hurt a great deal.

She means to cut into your hand.

- I know that.
- Aye.

But you have no notion what that's like.

I have.

Claire healed my hand years ago.

Hurt like the devil.

Hardly shows now.

You don't want to suffer like that

if there's a choice about it,
and there is.

And I have made my choice.

Please dinna tell my ma.

I'm not here to
speak to your mother, Aiden.

My business is with you.

Mr. Fraser wants you and
your friends from this morning

to come to see him before supper.

Otherwise, he'll come round.

He will talk to your mother.

Stay with Aiden.

Mistress McCallum!

Oh, thank you, dear Lord.
You sent the minister.

What?

I'm not exactly that, you know.

Aye. Well, maybe not exactly, sir,

but we enjoyed
your sermon this past week, and...

please, can you help?

Lizzie Wemyss brought me some milk.

I went to dip a bit out for Aiden,
but...

well, if it's no'
a devil that's got into it,

it's something else.

It's haunted, sir, I'm sure of it.

Oh!

It's just a wee bullfrog.

Well, not exactly wee.

But he's friendly.

Miss Wemyss watches
over a number of lads on the ridge.

My guess is, one of
them was playing a trick.

Why?

Why has God brought me here?

Well, we must trust...

that He has a plan of some sort...

even if we don't know what it is.

To bring us all to
this terrible place...

take my husband from me,
and leave me to starve?

It's not such a terrible place.

And it doesn't rain as
much as it does in Scotland.

I'll never see it again...

Scotland...

will I?

I can't say.

But I won't let you starve.

That's all I can promise you,
but I do promise it.

Oh, this is wonderful!

It's a muckle wheel.

I'll be better with some practice.

You made this?

Evan Lindsay helped.

He knows which wood works best.

I'll work twice as fast.

Then I'll have more time for the bairns.

No more!

Hey. Hey.

No more fighting,

or no more vroom until tomorrow.

Yes?

Good boy. Go on.

Why do you call them "vrooms"?

Uh, it's a sound

that Jem makes
when he's playing with them.

I wonder if Roger's having any luck

rounding up the boys from this morning.

I'm not sure what good it'll do.

It's the parents who need thrashing.

I did expect them home by now.
Fergus too.

I told Da we'd come
round with the bairn and Germain

for whatever punishment he'd thought up.

And...

Fergus promised me he'd stop drinking.

Good.

I'm sure Fergus will be here soon.

Yeah.

It will get better.

You'll see.

Thank you.

Here.

You might want to bite down on this,
for the pain.

I'd rather say my prayers.

At your convenience then,
Mistress Fraser.

- Hold still, man.
- Oh, God!

Jamie, the bucket.

You may experience some nausea,
Mr. Christie,

and if you do, you can vomit there.

Shall I stop?

No.

A shame to waste that much Whisky.

"The right hand of the Lord is exalted."

Aye.

"The right hand of
the Lord doeth valiantly."

That's appropriate, no?

Go on.

"You shall not die, but live,

"and declare the works of the Lord.

"The Lord hath chastened me so,

"but He hath not given
me over unto death.

Open to me the gates..."

"Of righteousness.

"I will praise thee.

For thou hast heard me."

- "God is the Lord..."
- The Lord!

"which hath showed us light."

- Aye!
- "Bind the sacrifice with cords

even unto the horns of the altar."

You must not move.

I need both my hands.
I can't hold yours.

I was only coming to ask
Mistress Fraser something.

Seeing as my father's in there.

Well, all the more reason to go in.

Ye're Auntie Claire's apprentice.

She called me her apprentice?

Well, that's why you've
been hovering about here

all the time, is it no'?

To learn the ways of a healer?

Yes.

Don't let my father hear you.

He doesn't like me to see him suffer

or to offend my
delicate female sensibilities.

You seem strong enough

to stand the sight
of a wee bit of blood.

And you'd be helping to make him well.

He's more worried about
the health of my eternal soul.

Prefers that I keep my mind on that.

Well, rather than lingering out here

like two souls in limbo...

I'll walk with you home?

I'm not Catholic,
so my soul won't be in limbo.

But yes, you may walk me home.

"The Lord is my shepherd.

"I shall not want.

"He maketh me to lie
down in green pastures.

"He leadeth me beside the still waters.

"Yea, though I walk

"through the valley
of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil,
for thou art with me."

"Surely goodness and
mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life."

Aye.

Ah. Ooh.

It worked.

You'll have more motion
once the wound has healed

and I've taken out the sutures,

but yes, it worked.

I would like you to stay
here overnight in the surgery

so I can keep an eye on you.

Aye.

Why would your father ever be worried

about your eternal fate?

I'm flattered
you don't think he should be.

But why not?

Are we not all sinners, Mister...

It is Fraser, isn't it?

It's Murray.

My ma's a Fraser.

And aye, we are all sinners, but...

a young lass like yourself?

Surely ye've done no wrong.

- Looks can be deceiving.
- Mm.

I suppose, if my ma could see me,

she'd be worried
about my eternal fate as well.

My mother
was not so spiritually inclined.

What do you mean?

She was hanged as a witch.

Hanged?

When?

I was very young.

I hardly remember.

I'm almost home now.

My brother will be home as well,

and he'd not be pleased to
see me walking with a young man.

Aye.

Of course.

'Tis my understanding...

you wicked wee scoundrels

were eager to play
with fire this morning.

There, nice and hot.

I've half a mind to burn ye myself.

Since you're growing men
who mean to learn by doing,

there's a choice:

touch the bairn...

or the poker.

Go on. Make yer choice.

You go first.

I dinna want to.

He's a sweet lad, is he no'?

Ye can see that he is.

See there, ye made him laugh.

He likes you.

Good.

See? I told you he wasn't a demon.

Is it true, what Mr. MacKenzie said

about the bairn belonging to the Lord?

I certainly wouldn't argue

with what Mr. MacKenzie said about that.

But whoever else he belongs to,

Henri-Christian belongs to me.

Best you all remember it.

Aye, Mr. Fraser, sir.

Now, help yourself to bread
and honey and be on yer way.

Henri-Christian also belongs to you,
Germain.

He's your wee brother.

He needs your protection.

You understand?

Yes, Grandpère.

Go on.

Papa, I'm so hungry.

Papa!

I'm really hungry.

Shh, shh, shh.

Dinna fash. Your ma's here now.

Have ye been neglecting the bairns?

How much drink have ye had?

If I'm still talking, then not enough.

Maybe I need another.

You promised me ye wouldna.

You're so much better than this,
my love.

I've seen what drink'll do to a man.

I watched my mother put up with it.

Me and Joanie suffered because of it.

And so help me God,
I willna put up wi' it again.

So please, Fergus...

tell me how to help ye, please.

You can't.

I'm the one who's supposed to help you,

to provide for you and the children,

to protect you and the children.

Then thank God Henri-Christian
was wi' me this evening

and that he drinks his mother's milk.

What does that mean?

You think I'd let any harm come to him?

Well,
it's fine job ye'd do in that state.

You can't protect
anyone when you're drunk!

You're right.

Only I wasn't drunk
when I failed you before.

I can fight for us too.

The burden is not only on you.

I can protect us as well.

Not against men like Lionel Brown.

Aye, I can.

And I did.

Let this be a comfort to ye,
Fergus, for I mean it to be.

Lionel didn't die.

I killed him.

What?

What did you say?

He threatened me.

He threatened all of us.

He said he'd burn
the house down over our heads.

So I filled a syringe
with water hemlock,

and I stabbed him in the neck.

You killed him?

I was worried it would haunt me.

But it doesna.

An evil man is gone,
and no harm will come to us.

I don't need a woman to protect me!

But I do need a drink.

Thirsty, are you?

I hope that's quenched it.

Now leave!

I said leave!

I am the man of this house!

Well, then you can come
back when you're acting like one.

You promised me, Fergus Fraser!

And I will have a whole man

or none at all.

What would you have
done if they'd chosen the poker?

I would let them have their punishment.

I hope they go
home and tell their parents.

Aye.

On the other hand, if their parents

think he's demon-born,

I'm his grandsire, and ye're his granny,

what does that say about us?

It says you're of the devil yourself.

What's wrong, Sassenach?

Nothing.

I, um...

I'm going to go downstairs,

look in on Tom.

Mistress Fraser.

Mr. Christie.

You're slightly feverish.

Here.

Easy.

Just want to see how your hand's doing,
that's all.

Throbbing a bit.

Keeping me from sleep.

Why do you never
wear a proper kerch or cap?

Why should I?

'Cause every pious married woman should.

"And every woman
who prayeth or prophesieth

"with her head
uncovered dishonoreth her head.

For that is just as if she were shaven."

Are we back to Saint Paul again?

Ever occur to you that man had

quite the bee in his bonnet about women?

Besides, I'm not praying right now.

I want to see how this does overnight

before I risk prophesying about it.

- It looks like it's doing...
- Your hair.

There's a great deal of it.

There is a great deal of it.

Eh.

You should, um,
move your fingers regularly

to prevent the muscles
from contracting while it's healing.

It will hurt at first,

but you must do it.

Here, let me show you.

If you take your other hand and you...

stretch out that joint,

you should feel the
pull go down the palm.

That's what's needed.

Here. Try it.

Mr. Christie, are you hungry?

A little, I suppose. Aye.

I'll fetch you something.

You should, uh, keep
trying those exercises for a bit.

Aye.

Oh, hello, cat.

Don't you be thinking
any of this ham is for you.

I might be able to rustle
up some milk for you, though.

Here.

You were thirsty.

You should let that rest now.

Don't want
the wound to start bleeding again.

Is there someone else in the kitchen?

I heard you speaking to someone.

No, it was just the cat.

And no, he's not my familiar.

It's just a cat.

It's only slightly less
ridiculous talking to him

than talking to myself, is all.

Mm, I told you, I am an educated man.

I do not think you are a witch.

Oh, you don't?

So don't you believe in witches?

There are witches in the Bible,
you know.

I did not say
that I do not believe in witches.

I do.

I said I don't think you are one.

I'm very pleased to hear that.

I want to apologize to you...

for my behavior this morning.

It's quite all right.

I can see how
the idea of being put to sleep

might seem peculiar.

I don't mean that.

I meant that...
I could not keep myself still.

I wouldn't expect anyone to keep still

while I cut into their hand.

Not even your husband?

He said you'd healed his hand for him.

He didn't squirm when you did it,
though, did he?

Everyone's different.

You wouldn't expect
any man to do as well as him.

I know that.

That's not what I meant.

Yeah, I've stitched wounds and set bones

for many men.

Nearly all the Highlanders.

They were terribly brave about it.

You know your husband
bears the stripes of flogging.

Yes, of course.

Oh, but do you know why?

Yes, I do.

But you don't.

Not all of them, it's true.

He arrived at Ardsmuir
with a great many stripes.

But-but I know he earned more

while we were in prison together.

He claimed a bit of tartan.

It was forbidden.

Do you know why?

It wasn't his.

An old man's.

It was an act of extraordinary courage.

Incomprehensible.

How he could do it, you mean?

Not how. Why.

Well, he would do
anything to protect one of his men.

Is that why today...
his presence here...

does he think I'm one of his men?

'Cause I assure you, I am not.

I'm sure he doesn't.

I'm sure it was simply
an act of kindness.

And he would do the
same for any stranger,

as you would yourself, wouldn't you?

Mm.

Good night, Mr. Christie.

Mm.

How was Tom?

He-he seems to be
doing quite well, actually.

Is Tom afraid of women?

Or...

was he just afraid of sinning,
I suppose?

He seemed so uncomfortable
with me touching his hand

or-or touching him at all, really.

I was like that, too, after Ardsmuir.

It was shocking to be touched,
especially by a woman.

It would be weeks, ye ken,

we wouldn't think of it.

We were always starved, cold,

worn to the bone.

Every now and then,
something would change.

The fog of exhaustion would lift.

A story someone told, maybe,

a letter from someone's wife or sister.

Sometimes it came from nowhere.

But you'd wake to it in the night,

in the dark,

like the smell of
a woman lying next to you.

Memory...

longing...

need.

Some men would reach out to another,

sometimes to be
rebuffed by shouts or blows,

sometimes not.

And Tom?

No. Hmm. Tom turned inward.

I was lucky.

You helped pull me back
from the darkness.

He was already at Ardsmuir

when you arrived, wasn't he?

And then you both left at the same time.

When the prison was closed, aye.

Tom was transported to the colonies

to serve his indenture.

Why?

Malva...

she would be 18, wouldn't she?

Wouldn't Tom have still been at Ardsmuir

when she was conceived?

Maybe he remarried
when he arrived in the colonies.

Hmm.

Did any of the men ever touch you?

No.

No one would ever think to touch me.

I was their chief.

They loved me.

None would think ever to touch me.

Did you ever want them to?

No.

I hungered for the touch of a hand.

Only that.

I longed for it.

More than food, more than sleep.

Though I longed
most desperately for sleep,

for-not only for the sake of tiredness,

but when I slept... I dreamt of you.

My brother tells me
you're a fearsome hunter.

Aye. I suppose.

Keeps me well fed.

As I used to say
when my father would ask me

what I must do to
avoid the fiery pits of hell,

"Be sure to eat well,
and take good care not to die."

Well, your father is, uh...

Must be difficult to
live with the burden

of such high expectations.

Hmm.

And sometimes I think
people make mistakes

and do the wrong thing,

but perhaps for the right reasons.

I suppose your uncle
doesn't mind much what you do.

That you've markings on your face

or that you're not...
a Christian, I suppose?

Hmm.

No, I dinna ken
what I am or what I believe.

But I'll always have
a home with Uncle Jamie.

And he'd give me
the coat off his back if I asked him.

- Or wi'out askin', either.
- Hmm.

He loves you as his own son, then.

Aye.

He's given me some
land of my own to farm.

Must you pay him rent for Quarter Day?

No, not yet. Havena been farmin'.

You know,
I dinna ken if my place is here,

with them, or for how long.

Where else would it be?

He must think you
very worthy and capable.

Aye.

Man o' worth.

Do they mean something?

That I've done much that I'm proud of

and much that I regret.

- You've lived, then.
- I have.

There's no sin in that, I suppose.

No.

None at all.

What has it been, a week now?

Oh, that's healing nicely.

Good.

You've been doing your exercises.

Yes.

Yes.

I look forward to
having its use returned to me.

Hmm.

I've been having trouble sleeping,

so I come down and read for a bit.

- I find it helps.
- Mm.

Do you read novels?

Uh, yes.

Have you read Tom Jones before?

No.

My wife, she read novels.

But I did not approve of it.

Then.

I threw them all away.

Can't imagine
she was very pleased about that.

She was not.

So what changed your mind?

Ardsmuir.

You know, we had no books there,

but Mr. Fraser was accustomed

to recount the stories he had read

to the other prisoners.

Not Tom Jones but others.

And I saw that fiction was perhaps not,

as I had thought,

merely an inducement of idleness

and wicked fancy, a confection of lies.

Surely there's
a difference between lying

and telling a distracting tale.

Oh, it was distraction, to be sure.

In such conditions,
distraction is, uh, not evil,

while it is, of course, more desirable

to escape into prayer.

Of course.

But... it drew the men together.

You would not think that such men...

Crofters,
Highlanders... would find themselves

in sympathy with such situations.

They were...

they were starved, cold,

covered in sores,
separated from their families,

yet they could take comfort

in never having
suffered such vicissitudes

as had befallen these imaginary beings.

Would you like to borrow it?

Oh, no, no, I couldn't.

Please. I insist.

It will be a good distraction for you.

And I will come and
retrieve it in a few days

when I come to check on your hand.

Well, then, uh, I must thank you.

I... meant to say

that Richard Brown

came by our settlement this morning.

He offered us the protection
of his committee of safety,

should we have the need of it.

I hope you refused him.

That man is...

he's not to be trusted.

Please, come in.

Good day, lass.

Oh, Mr. Fraser, you startled me.

My father is fond of mushrooms,

so I was looking for wood ears.

What will yer father do when ye've wed

and left his house?

He'll need someone
to do for him, I expect.

I dinna mean to be wed anytime soon,
sir.

We'll manage well enough.

No?

Surely ye've suitors.

The lads swoon after
you in droves; I've seen them.

Please, sir, ye'll say
no such thing to my father.

I willna.

I was only teasing, lass.

Is your father so fierce, then?

- I thought you knew him, sir.
- I did.

I'm getting acquainted with him again.

Have ye enough wood ears there?

I saw a great many
yesterday up near the green spring.

I'm going that way. I could show ye.

You're very kind.

Thank you.

Your brother, Allan,
will leave home, too, I suppose.

Maybe go down the coast.

I ken he's not a farmer at heart, is he?

No, he's not. He grew up in Edinburgh.

You have the same
mother, your brother and you?

Of course.

Born in Scotland? Or here?

Am I such a curiosity to you, sir?

'Twas Scotland.

But I dinna much remember it.

Some say this place is like it, though.

Do you think so?

Something like it.

Some parts.

The Great Glen, the forest.

- Mm.
- Aye.

It's very much like this.

But there is no peat, o' course.

- No heather.
- Mm.

That's the biggest difference.

The mountains...

Here we are again, Quarter Day.

Thank you, Miss Wemyss.

I must drink this before Mr.
Christie sees

and chastens me.

What auld Tom doesna
ken willna hurt him.

Lang may yer lum reek. Slàinte mhath.

Slàinte mhath.

You sure you dinna need any help,
Miss Wemyss?

Kezzie and I could
pass some of that ale round.

Oh, aye, as though every cup I give ye

wouldna go straight
down yer own two gullets.

I'm no fool, Josiah Beardsley.

We'll keep watch, then.

Make sure no one steals a sip uninvited.

If you want to be helpful,

go and fetch me another barrel of ale.

Good health.

It's good to get a rest
from the children.

Mm, Mrs. Bug was happy to watch 'em.

The state of him.

Come. Come.

Padraic MacNeill.

Ah. Well done, sir.

Keep this up, and ye'll have enough

to feed a family of five.

Now, where are yer two wee scamps?

They'll be off making
mischief somewhere.

Gone lookin' for sweetmeats, no doubt.

Evan Lindsay. Ye've had a good year.

Aye, Mac Dubh.
My crops have been blessed.

Time the good Lord
blessed ye with a wife

to spend all that money on.

Perhaps He'll introduce
me to yer sister,

since ye're spoken for.

Careful now.

She's far too young for the likes of ye.

And she's in Scotland, forbye.

Oh, yeah.

You look nice.

I think we should set
Evan up with Lizzie.

What do you think?

If he can get past Josiah
and Kezzie Beardsley, that is.

What do you mean?

You haven't noticed?

They're very protective.

Your mother says
that they follow Lizzie around

like two puppies.

More like two wolves.

There you go.

They've just gone to get some more.

I'll send over a recipe if you'd like.

I'll get Mrs.-Mrs.
Crombie to have a look at that.

There's a wee bit left for you.

Whatever you want to say to me,

you might as well say it.

You've been staring at me all morning.

Staring at me like you stare at my son.

Have you never seen
a man with one hand before?

Or a dwarf?

Are we so hideous?

Hideously drunk.

But as to your son,

I think "grotesque" may be the word.

But you tell us...

if you can bear to look at him yourself.

- Oh!
- Hey!

- Fergus!
- Fergus!

This madman attacked me!

Did you see what happened?

It was her fault, mostly.

She shouldna ha' said
what she did about the bairn.

I saw him throw Whisky in her face.

Oh, surely it's a curse from God

for a child to look that way!

How dare you?

Drink is the devil's juice.

Isn't that what you always say,
Mr. Christie?

Well, the lad's father's
barely seen without a cup.

The Frasers have
opened their doors to us.

We will respect them
in the eyes of the Lord,

with pity...

and kindness.

Mr. MacGregor.

What's happened?

As we all settle in this new land,

so far from the soil in
which many of us were born,

I want to reflect on the words

"thou shalt love
they neighbor as thyself."

I feel compelled to tell
a story about a helpless child

who was floated down
a river in a basket.

His name was Moses.

Pharaoh ordered that all Hebrew boys

be thrown into the Nile and drowned,

an edict that nearly killed the child

that would later lead
God's people to freedom.

It was fear that made him do it.

For months,
Moses' mother kept him hidden,

risking her own life,

until he was too big to hide.

She placed him in a basket

in the River Nile and prayed.

She entrusted him to God,

in spite of her fear.

Many of you are parents.

To what lengths would you go

to protect your innocent children?

You never know what
you'll be willing to do until...

Fergus!

No, milord. Let me be.

No!

Let me die. This is the only way.

Marsali and the children need you.

This is for them.

Marsali can marry again,

find a man who can
provide for her and the children,

protect Henri-Christian.

I cannot.

You can.

You know damn well I can't.

Roger saved him.

You protect him.

I'm nothing.

I'm useless.

Useless?

You kept this family
together while I was at Ardsmuir.

You helped me at my print shop

when I was grieving for Claire.

With this one hand,

you made some of the finest
Whisky ever passed my lips.

You will do so again.

Ye're the only one who can show yer son

what a "useless" man like ye can achieve

and how proud he can make his father.

Ye dinna ken.

But it's you, not what you do

or... give or provide.

It's you we need...

to come home.

I'm not who I once was, milord.

I don't know if I can be that man again.

You can.

You will.

I'm sorry. Never again.

Major MacDonald.

Mr. Fraser, Mistress Fraser.

I come bearing gifts.

Your letter requesting
guns was well-received.

And it appears the loyalty and readiness

of the Snowbird Cherokee

couldn't have come at a better time.

The Boston Tea Party.

Oh, so you've heard.

An inconvenience, certainly.

Imagine the King will view it

as an act of outright aggression.

Where would you like them?

We'll, uh, store them
in the corncrib for now.

What does it mean, Sassenach?

It's starting.

The storm, the war...

it's almost here.

Sync and corrections by btsix
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