All language subtitles for The BASTARD Executioner - Ep. 05 - Piss Profit (720p AMZN Web-DL)

(electricity crackling)

FX presents.

The Bastard Executioner.

Previously, on The
Bastard Executioner...

At this very moment,

our king is deciding the
fate of Ventrishire.

But I must ask that

you allow me to give counsel

before making decisions that
could lead to deep regret.

The baron always
gave me his ear.

I am not my husband.

Where's the baroness?

Regretfully, on her way to Windsor.
She's the one

who pleaded for this visit.

As you know, when His
Majesty calls, all...

must answer. She
left but yesterday.

Welcome.

Piers Gaveston.

Trusted advisor to His Majesty,
King Edward the Second.

The king has requested that you
join him for his midday meal.

He is most eager to discuss
the future of Ventrishire.

The rule is in the hands
of a frivolous king.

There are only...

two things that would
trump such a decision:

An heir of Ventris...

Or marriage to an
appointed noble.

You are quite aware

that I'm already married?
I am told

that the Lady Trula's
consumption grows.

You are indeed bold.

This wasn't wolves.

SOLDIER: You have been placed
in custody of the court

to determine guilt.

Guilt of what?

(yells)

No, please!

Please, no! No!

(grunting)

(grunting in pain)

(thudding)

Ventrishire will be
divided into thirds,

two territories going to
the neighboring shires...

The coastal area with a castle

will fall to my authority.

Please, keep the gown
as our gift for your...

loyalty and patience.

I'm afraid the gown
will soon be of no use,

nor will the decree of division.

I am with heir.

This needs washing in private,

away from my other vestures.

Yes, Baroness.

Is there anything else in
need of washing, my lady?

No.

The linens are unstained.

I know I've put

a heavy burden on
you, dear Isabel.

I'm afraid that

nearly two weeks of thought

has given me no better sense of
how to carry out my deception.

Perhaps it's not a
deception at all, Love.

You carry the proof
in your basket.

Proof of but a single day?

Every fertile field needs a
serving of more than one seed

to bear a good harvest.

Are you suggesting
that I open my...

fertile field to seed sowing?
As you know, my lady,

to offer advice is
above my status.

Mm.

A hardened rule you
would never break.

Isabel...

thank you.

I am, and will always be,

in your service, Lady Love.

(sighs)

Your morning meal, Chamberlain.

On the table.

Taking to your new duties?

Yes, sir.

Very well, thank you.

And?

And...

I am learning much.

And?

And, um...

You are in my debt.

Yes, in debt.

Thank you, Chamberlain.

(indistinct conversations)

Crush this mixture into powder.

Stir in the egg of
the red starling.

You must lay the paste thin

over the scabs.

And who is this gentle soul?

LUCA: Luca Maddox, good woman.

Sweet calamus.

Thank you.

(indistinct, overlapping
conversations)

Wait here.

Is it not a risk,

selling your remedies here?

Your physicker requested I come.

He was weary of getting
lost in the Black Oaks.

And I suppose your
hooded protector

might scare away good trade.

Yes.

He waits in the coves.

And your brothers...

how are they?

As any man would be,

trapped in a hole,
lock-kneed for 12 days.

Your oils ease their pain.

Helps them drift
to some comfort.

And you?

How is your pain?

It seems no prayer
gives me relief

from the horror that
plays out here.

I wish I could give you a remedy

for your struggles, Wilkin,

but you know in your heart...

I know nothing in
my heart anymore.

JESSAMY: What is that thing?

This one...

this one has a crippled heart

from so many dreadful memories.

Yea.

She's not tried to hurt
the boy or herself

but that one time.

Use gentle caution, Wilkin.

Her angry ghosts push her

close to madness.

* Born with a heart

* That could ache
more than beat *

* The mind of a killer

* The soul of the meek

* Flock with no shepherd

* Is a vulnerable game

* I can live without a hearth *

* Without love

* But I do need a name

* Father, do you burn

* If your hand is in fire?

* Does your head
spin with rage *

* When fooled by the liars?

* King of the kings

* Do you feel any pain?

* Do you feel any pain?

Come on, let's go.

Keep walking.

Here. Go.

(bell tolling in distance)

Drink in haste, brothers.

I'll deliver more
if I have time.

I hear someone coming.

(door creaks open)

The hour brings the
change of guard.

Allows us a few minutes
to speak openly.

Go be young somewhere else, boy.

Come.

What matter begs sending
away the innocent?

One that concerns us all.

I am in need of your
skill and confidence.

We've learned that when you
speak of serving the many,

it's only you that
reaps the bounty.

CORBETT: The fate of Ventrishire

hangs by a French thread.

Baron Pryce senses our weakness.

He woos the king's favor

in the hope that Edward
will grant him the land

that was once his.

TORAN: And what skill of ours

can halt this noble
boot-licking?

His Majesty has a passion

for religious relics.

Pryce possesses an ancient Bible

or scroll... some
rare holy thing

salvaged from a
cave off the Nile.

It travels to Windsor today.

The baron's gift of devotion

to our swayable king.

And you want us to
seize the relic.

Make it a gift to you.

Not seize it.

Destroy it.

The risk of possession
is too great.

Bring down the guards,

set the wagon afire,

burn the Bible and all the other...
boot-lickings inside.

WILKIN: Killing soldiers

and destruction of noble goods

is no lesser risk.

The blame will fall with the
rebels and the thieves.

Pryce will not have suspicion

if there are but charred
remnants that leave no clues.

TORAN: And we're tradesman.

We've no reason to risk
death and blasphemy.

I would hope

protecting Ventrishire
and the rule of our...

baroness would be reason enough.

But...

if you need greater cause...

To comfort murderers

with provisions is
a breach of law.

You must have some concerns
for their welfare to risk

serving your own
time in the coffin.

They are not murderers.

I decide what they are.

You deliver the pain
of that decision.

These men were found
down trail of the body

and unwilling to give true name.

That weighs the
scale with guilt.

WILKIN: But if we
burn your Bible,

you'll offer a different fate.

They will be released
from their coffin traps

and their sentences
reduced to servitude.

Slave of the court.
They will work off

their crime.

(scoffs)

Then let them wither

in their holes until
we find another

of greater guilt.

We will do your harsh deed.

Leave within the hour.

Wait for Pryce's caravan
off the pond trail

to the south of Heaven's Eye.

And what of the prisoners?

I will draft the bondage letters

to Lady Love, and
she will sign them.

Complete your task and they
will see the morning sun.

Your man grows more disturbed
with each new day.

Be mindful that he does not
become a complication.

You should be mindful
as well, Chamberlain.

Since the baron's death,

you've guzzled this new
power like sweet mead.

Men never make sound
choices while drunk.

(chuckles softly)

(door creaks, closes)

(townsfolk chattering
in distance)

May I get you anything
else, my lady?

Baroness, anything else?

Yes, Isabel, I may need you
to fetch me a second meal.

Perhaps a third.

It appears that I need to
expand my girth with due haste.

Shit.

I hate the Welsh.

Lord Gaveston.

It is a profound honor to
welcome you to our castle.

Milus Corbett, Chamberlain
of Ventrishire.

Thank you, Chamberlain.

Hm. Is the baroness within?

Yes, she makes her
way to greet you.

May I ask why we
have the privilege

of such an esteemed visitor?

Ah...

Baroness.

You radiate with
even more beauty

in your beloved Wales.

(chuckles) Sir Gaveston.

A pleasure to see you again.

I have missed your words
of sincere adoration.

You travel with such
a humble retinue.

Are you here for...

sport and game?

(chuckles)

That is the secret to
my happiness, my lady.

Everything I do is
sport and game.

I was just about to tell
your handsome chamberlain...

(chuckles)

that I journey to perform one
of my most cherished duties.

The declaration of heirs.

Sir Gwynfor is our
Progeny Prophet

and Uroscoper.

Once he has, uh,

acquired the proof

that you carry the
child of Lord Ventris,

the king will declare,

if it be a male child,

he will be given all the
rights to rule this shire.

(chuckles)

Thank you, Sir Gaveston.

We will let you
settle and refresh.

Isabel will show you
to our guest chamber.

Ah, charmant.

Baroness.

Sir Corbett.

I am sorry that I did not share

this news with you
sooner, dear Milus.

But I only became certain
of my good fortune

while on the trail to Windsor.

And of course,

as the earl has said,
I could not declare

the joyous news until His
Majesty has his proof.

The happiness I
feel for your news,

heals any wounding of
my pride, Baroness.

(chuckles)

I understand the testing

by this piss prophet

can be quite a...

disquieting thing.

Allow me to be of
help in any way

that best serves you.

Thank you, Chamberlain.

It seems that you have
stirred the imagination

of our French visitor.

Is that bad, Chamberlain?

Not at all.

(bell tolling in distance)

Sir Gaveston.

Baroness.

Your devotion serves you.

Our Savior blesses
you in so many ways.

A keen mind,

beauty, (chuckles)

a stature

that remains so lithe and petite

even while...

When is it that you expect
this gift of an heir?

Not until the colder months.

It was the blessing of a union

hours before Erik's death.

As if God Himself had
filled your womb.

Yes.

Well, I will give
you time alone.

I am sure you are in need
of your own devotion.

I could understand your
disregard for English rule.

But to boldly deceive
in the eyes of God.

Well...

it is more than
your noble status

that is in peril, my lady.

I have deep concern

for your eternal salvation.

Renounce this...

charade presently,

and you will suffer no
penalty of false words.

It will be as if those lies

never poured from
your tiny mouth.

Well...

Let us hope God will take pity.

For when you are
found to be a fraud,

the king will have your
breasts cleaved off,

your barren womb severed,

and your head taken by sword.

And the honorable

and most exiled Earl of Cornwall

will be left with my pieces

and my land.

(quiet scoff)

Sir Gwynfor will need today
to prepare his examination.

Your first piss of morning
will land in his pot.

(sighs)

WILKIN: This appears to be
the best vantage point.

TORAN: Yea.

You seem to be
growing familiar...

with the fair nobles
of Ventrishire.

Our baroness.

Lady Love tries to reason a man

with pious devotion and the
skill to off a man's head.

As do I.

What about our chamberlain?

Are we to become
his puppets now,

taking all dirty tasks
beneath his noble knights?

Corbett's abuse of power
will have a hard end

when the king decides
the fate of the shire.

We are planted on tender
earth here, brother.

The weight of secrets
will sink us,

and everything we've loved
will be dead and buried.

Yea, wit.

We must be true.

(women moan sensually)

What brings this... (women gasp)

horrid display of
bacchanal to my chambers?

We're deeply sorry, sir.

It seems our good
chamberlain sent us here.

Yea.

With the task of finding out

what your need is
with this shire.

He wishes that you
loosen my tongue?

Yea.

With ours.

(everyone laughs)

My girls.

Clear the trail, stranger!

Are you mad or just dull-witted?

(others laugh)

(horse whinnies) Hyah! Hyah!

(man screams)

Dirty deed complete.

(woman coughs, screams)

WOMAN: Lord Christ! O, Savior!

Please! (man screams, coughs)

(woman shrieks)

WOMAN (screams): Oh, the pain!

(Wilkin and Toran
grunting with effort)

TORAN: Wilk, no!

He's long dead.

"To my most pious and
beautiful, Trula.

"I hope these prayers bring
you as much peace and joy

"as your love brings me.

Your devoted husband, Edwin."

Lady Pryce.

It was her physicker's wagon.

Punisher! You have returned.

(grunting)

Mon liege!

(laughs) Now we are true.

This is who we are,
Wilkin Brattle.

You knew she was in that wagon.

You don't make those
kind of mistakes.

I did what was required.

As did you.

We all share the burden
to protect the shire.

MAN: Over there!

CORBETT: Hold, hold!

Maddox and I were engaged

in a friendly
demonstration of defense.

I was sharing some
grappling skills we plied

on the Scottish battlefields.

Go. Go.

Yes, sir.

(speaking French)

CLARA: Corbie.

Good Chamberlain.

Enough!

You're hurt.

It's no matter.

We have news to
raise your spirit.

Indeed.

We took to this Gaveston
our most, um...

Wetted slots.

It was of no interest
to the Frenchman.

You, however, most
handsome Chamberlain,

were the only
temptation he uttered.

Me?

Ah.

I suppose that would have
been an obvious turn.

He inquired of wives and lovers.

Laid very heavy a point

that he would be in his
chamber after supper.

Alone.

I see.

Thank you, lovelies.

My lady.

Master Gawain.

Seems we are both in need
of a peaceful setting.

Seems you've had a
hard day as well.

The slip of a tool

while mending the grate
on the coffin traps.

I hear the chamberlain
has decided

to free the prisoners
within them,

put the men in servitude.

Those prisoners are still
in that horrid hole?

Yes, my lady.

I will see that the letters
are drafted in haste,

so I may release them.

Thank you.

A punisher who concerns himself

with the welfare of
those he punishes.

It is no wonder I often find
you in troubled thought.

Yea.

There was a healer at
the market earlier.

I should see if she has

some balm I might put
on these scrapes.

Baroness.

Is it your healer?

The one that renewed your vow.

Yea, the same woman.

This woman has
knowledge of nature

and its course with humors.

Yes, it would be
one of her gifts.

Are you in need of...
remedy, Baroness?

I am in need of a...
different kind of wisdom.

She is most different.

Now you are the one lost
in troubled thought.

Hmm.

Yes.

Do you ever feel like you're
living the life of another?

That God intended you
to be someone else?

Not greater or of more prestige,

but... truer.

Forgive me.

I'm afraid this day has
rubbed me raw of manners.

It is a day full
of harsh rubbings.

I will arrange a meet
with this healer.

Thank you.

The rank of field marshal is
a most prestigious ascension

for a-a poor village boy from...

uh, where did you...?

Ingthorpe. Ah... yes.

And yes, a rise well-earned.

But as is the way of the world,

with veins that flow with
not a drop of royal blood,

my head is at the rafters
of said ascension.

Yes.

We have much in common,
you and I, Milus.

We take to the same sport.

Indeed, Piers.

I feel as if we have been
acquainted for many a year.

Absolument.

Huh?

Your, uh, baroness...

if you do not mind
me speaking of her?

Please.

We have... oui-dire...

Heard, uh, stories, yes?

That she was struck
with a barren womb.

Stories change their
truth as they travel.

Do they?

(chuckles) A man as clever

and resourceful as yourself,

I am certain you know all things

above and below these
castle stones.

You flatter like a highly

polished courtesan, dear Earl.

Tell me.

Why Ventrishire?

I would think your
influence with His Majesty

would earn you a far more
desirable appointment.

And yet, you take such effort

to secure our humble
slice of moss.

Forcing the decree of division.

Traveling all this way to find

the proof of Erik's heir.

It makes one wonder if you are
looking for a place to hide.

(chuckles)

Ah, yes, well...

like you, sweet Milus,

I was forced to stir the
hive to get the honey.

And now the bees,

they come to sting.

And what faces

are on the other end
of those stingers?

Scots?

Marcher Barons?

It's a weakness, I admit.

But...

my tongue...

seems to loosen...

when my cock

rests...

in a handsome mouth.

It seems we share the gift
of forwardness as well.

No.

It will be much more pleasurable

if you are on your knees.

(chuckles)

Did you honestly think I
would let dirt-born lips

touch a rod that knows

only the holes of
beautiful things?

(laughs)

Sortez, huh?

I am sure there
is a shit scraper

in need of a suckling.

Chamberlain.

Good evening.

Do you require anything

before you go to bed?

(grunting)

Is there something
wrong, my lady?

This is foolish.

I am sorry, Master Gawain.

This venture.

My behavior.

This is not who I am.

Perhaps it's that other life.

The one you believe
God intended?

Trying to find its way and
have a word with you.

Perhaps.

Talk to the healer.

If she brings no
ease of your doubt,

then we will leave.

Yes.

Baroness.

An honor to finally meet you.

This is Annora.

Thank you, Annora.

I will wait down shore.

Come.

(gasps) You are cold.

Here, fair lady.

No, please.

I am layered...

with years.

Thank you.

Your hands...

they're cold as stone.

And so delicate.

The hand of but a girl.

(crying)

(gently): Oh, my... come...

(Lady Love sobbing)

Oh...

I am sorry.

I do not...

My shame now equals my impiety.

No.

Never believe that.

You are pious, Love.

God holds you closer

than you will ever know.

Now, tell me.

How may I serve you?

Will you follow?

It's where you belong.

With me.

Yes.

You deserve this, my love.

No!

(screaming)

My savior, please!

(gasping)

(groans)

(distorted): Follow me.

It's where you belong.

You deserve this.

(distorted woman's
voice): Master Gawain?

LADY LOVE: Master Gawain?

Master Gawain?

You may take me back now.

Yea.

Of course.

Send your maiden at sunup.

I will.

Have we caused this
sadness, Annora?

What I'm feeling is not sadness.

Keep her safe.

Yea.

Thank you.

GAVESTON: Tell your baroness

she need not fill the
pot to the brim.

ISABEL: Yes, sir.

(door unlatches)

Where have you been?

Sorry, my lady.

That gray woman and
her hooded beast

stirred my nerves
to the core, Love.

Your level of madness is not my
concern at this moment, maiden.

She said to first
stir in the powder.

Shit.

It's piss.

This is... Yes.

Apparently from a
very pregnant wolf.

(knocking on door)

GAVESTON: Sir Gwynfor
awaits, my lady.

His trials needing to
be moistened in haste.

Tell that French pig I'll
be there in due time.

Do not call him "pig."

Our lady makes
herself presentable.

It will be but a moment, sir.

I hope you know what I'm doing.

GWYNFOR: By ordinance
of the most high king,

Edward the Second of England,

and His Grace, the First Earl
of Cornwall, Sir Gaveston,

I commence the progeny tests.

For what outcome do you wait

that convinces your prophet
I am indeed with child?

The pins will rust.

The baby's blood will
swirl with slick color.

And the bone will...

What's the bone do?

The phallic bone of
a goat will soften,

give way to touch.

The science arts
continue to amaze me.

Good Chamberlain. Maidens.

Tell us, dear sir, how was
your "French supper"?

A very unsatisfying meal.

Pig.

Ah, there you are.

I leave this horrid hole today.

When do we get to leave?

Ah, patience, mon amie.

My needs here will grow.

I'm depending on you... both.

We understand, love.

A brother could not ask for
more generous sisters.

Half sisters, Frenchman.

Yes, and you shall
be the other half.

(chuckles)

*

(door unlatches)

Upon examination of
the progeny tests,

I conclude that Baroness
Lady Love Ventris is...

with child.

GAVESTON: Non, impossible.

This cannot be true.

I cannot believe it.

This bone does not give way.

GWYNFOR: Yes, well...

the proof of the bone test has
always suffered accuracy.

Then why do you give it?!

Do they all suffer, huh?

Rusted pins?

Swirled blood?

That woman is not with child.

I would place the stake of
my good name on that truth.

CORBETT: A wager as worthless
as your journey to Ventrishire.

(spits)

Paysans.

*

*

Master Gawain.

Sorry, my lady, I'm afraid

my "troubled thoughts"
wander a bit far today.

I understand.

My thoughts are
beyond wandering.

They've taken to a full gallop.

(chuckles)

Yet you seem of better spirit.

I am.

When you see your healer again,

will you share my gratitude
for her kindness?

Her remedy served you, then?

Yes, it did.

The servitude writs
for the prisoners.

Thank you.

They can be released?

Yes.

I'll tend to that
presently, Baroness.

Gawain.

Yes, my love.

Is there something...

You addressed me as "my love."

I'm so sorry, Baroness.

It was, I assure you,
just a slip of my words.

I'm not insulted.

I'll be more mindful
of what I say.

Please...

I so enjoy your company.

I do not want us to grow apart.

*

*

Have you seen my
husband, good marshal?

I have midday meal.

He's in the chapel...

enjoying his devotion.

Captioned by Media
Access Group at WGBH.

The Bastard Executioner.

All new, Tuesdays
at 10:00 on FX.

(breathing shakily)

(inhales)

(engines idling)

Well, back on the clock.

Yeah, okay.

Fargo. All new,
Mondays at 10:00.

Starts October 12 on FX.

[ Crowd Cheering, Applauding ]

When a thoroughbred is
retired, he's put out to stud.

My only regret is that I cannot
inject my excellence into...

Future generations,

who will know that I
respected and admired...

Boobs. Boobs do not make you
less of a fantasy player.

I dominated these guys. I
stomped all over their...

Sacks. Touchdowns.

Doesn't matter how you score, as
long as you leave everything...

In the toilet.

Every year, my team inevitably
ends up in the crapper.

Sometimes I feel like I...

Smoked everything in sight.

Wait. What were we talking about?
[ Man ] Eskimo bro!

[ Announcer ] The League. All
new, Wednesdays at 10:00.

Only on FXX.

[ Clears Throat ]

You know, if you lowered
me about three feet...