All language subtitles for Hamish.Macbeth.S02E04.Radio.Lochdubh.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-squalor_Track04

Is everything ready?

Everything's ready.

What about you, boys?

Right, let's do it

Five, four, three, two, one.

- Good evening--

Lochdubh!

- This is Lachie the Man.

- And Flipside Jack.

- On Radio--

Lochdubh!

- Tonight, we bring you the delectable--

- The pouting--

- The gorgeously gorge-able.

- Hyper sexity--

- News Queen.

But right now,

these questions.

Is your flock feeling fickle?

Ewes useless?

Rams not so rampant?

- Then tarry, hear the words

of special guest, Professor Merino!

- Sage of the stockyard.

- Wizard of the wool trade.

- Professor Merino!

- News Queen.

And the
humongously popular Book Lady

with the latest tear-jerking installment

of Far, Far, Far From the Madding Crowd.

These and many, many, many,

many, many more on Radio--

Lochdubh!

- She felt powerless to
withstand or deny him.

He was altogether too much for her

And Bathsheba seemed as one
who, facing a reviving wind,

finds it blows so strongly
that it stops the breath.

He drew near, and he said,
"I must be leaving you."

He drew nearer still.

That minute's interval had
brought the blood beating

into her face, set her
stinging as of a flame

to the very hollows of her
feet and enlarged emotion

to a compass which quite swamped thought.

She felt like one who
had sinned a great sin.

The circumstance had been a gentle dip

of Troy's mouth downward upon her own.

He had kissed her.

That was Book Lady, folks.

- She's in sweet voice tonight.

- Aye aye.

- Now mind and put out
the good china for her.

.

And now The
Ceilidh Band, just the usual.

- Hey, Barney, Agnes.

Shh!

- Sorry.

- Awful sorry about this, Hamish.

- There's no need to
apologize, Hamish understands.

- So he should.

It was his Alex that got
them into this reading lark,

her damned book spot.

- Yeah, on your son's
radio station, Lachlan,

illegal radio station, I may add.

- Aye, well, that just may be.

- I don't know.

I quite enjoy the quiet.

I think Alex is to be commended.

- Hmm.

- I'm with you, Doctor.

Only an uncultured oaf would
object to such serenity.

- Uncultured oaf!

Shh!

- This is a bar, not a bloody library.

- I understand there's barely
a book left in the library.

- It may have escaped your notice,

but with all this reading going on,

they're hardly drinking a thing.

It's bad for trade.

- We'll manage.

- What's the matter with him?

- He's reading Wuthering Heights, Hamish.

Cathy has just died.

Give us a pint, would you,
Barney, while Agnes soothes him.

- There, there, there.

Go on now, Peter.

- It's just, it's just so moving, Agnes

- I know.

- Maybe if you tackled something a bit

emotionally less taxing, Peter.

I've just finished A
Brief History of Time,

and you'd be welcome to it.

- No, I'm going to finish this book, Neil.

I'm going to finish it.

So moving.

- Look at him.

That man hasn't been up
to the bar all night.

Can you not do something
about this, Hamish?

- Why don't you just get Agnes
to bind books at the bar?

- Why don't you get Alex
to stop the book spot?

- I wonder if you could just
keep it down a little, lads.

I'm in the middle

of a rather steamy
bodice-ripper over here.

- Ah, we all know that it will blow over.

- How so?

- Well, we got a fax from Inverness.

Apparently, there's been
complaints from a couple

of legitimate radio stations.

Sending a detective on up tomorrow.

Obviously, I'll be giving
him every assistance.

- Now wait a minute, Hamish.

I don't want the radio
station to close down,

just that book spot.

- Don't you worry, Barney.

My boy, Lachie the Man
has contingency plans

for just such an eventuality as this.

- Heads up, it's News Queen.

It's time for News Queen.

It's 9 o'clock, and
this is Radio Lochdubh News.

A lovesick bull ran amok in
Noonin High Street today.

Meanwhile, back in Lochdubh--

- The Ceilidh Band, folks.

- With their penultimate number.

- Sniffle, sniffle.

- Boo hoo.

- Sob, sob.

- But to look forward
to on Radio Lochdubh--

- Animal husbandry with a man
who really knows his chickens.

- Bide a wee, when a
local luminary invites us

into his or her hacienda.

- And we bring you Stargazer,

a man for whom the future is an open book.

- All this--

- And much, much, much,
much, much, much more--

- Coming up on--

- Radio Lochdubh, your local--

- Local--

- Radio.

Yee hoo!

- Yee ha!

- Oh my God.

- I'm sorry.

- No, it was my fault.

I should have been looking.

- Excuse me.

- Aye.

Hi, lads.

- Hi.
- Hi, Hamish.

Wow.

- Hello!
- Hamish!

Did you catch--

The show?

- How do you do that?

- Do--
- What--

- Hamish?

That.

- Sorry, Hamish.

Were you listening?

- Well, only to Book Lady.

Where is she, by the way?

- She's--
- Over--

- At...

- That's great, that.

- Alex goes over to the McNeil
house when she finishes.

Old Mrs. McNeil's a major
fan of the literature spot.

I thought you knew.

- No, no, I didn't.

But I've got some bad news, I'm afraid.

- Nah, we were expecting
something like this.

Come on outside.

When these snoopers get here,
Hamish, we'll go mobile.

We'll have to scale the
operation down, naturally,

but we'll manage to put something out,

keep the station's name in
the public consciousness.

- Where'd you get the
money for all of this?

- Station patron, Zoot McPherrin,

All he asked in return is

that our output is demographically sound,

you know, something for everyone.

Though we're having a terrible
time getting the Ceilidh Band

to play swing for the older generation.

- And you reckon this is gonna work?

- Oh--
- Yes--

- Hamish.

- I'll shoo off, let
you boys go on then, eh.

Just watch out for that detective, man.

- Oh--
- We--

- Will--
- Hamish.

- And--

- Good--

- Night.

- I'm sorry.

I saw your car.

I thought there may be something wrong.

- No.

Just enjoying the quiet.

- Right.

- You know, after the noise at the barn.

- Oh, right.

Well, um,

I'll be off then, leave you in peace, eh.

- No.

- No?

- What I meant was I was
about to leave anyway.

- Well, I'll walk you to your car,

seeing as how you're just leaving.

I cannot take this, Isobel,

this living a lie.

Is it enough?

- Yeah.

- Yeah.

- Good morning.

- Oh yeah.

- Late in, last night?

- Yeah, I was up at the barn.

Lachie said you went over
to visit the McNeil's.

- Yes, my number one fans.

You don't say.

- You don't mind?

- No, no, why should I?

You always liked it a
lot, this radio thing.

- Yes, I do.

- Alex, there's something
I have to tell you.

- Sounds serious.

What is it?

- Well, uh...

- Yes?

- Alex, um,

there's some people coming up

to close down the radio station, look.

- What?

- The thing's illegal, Alex.

I mean, you must have
dreamed of a media career

for Lachie and Jubel, but
it's illegal nonetheless.

You must've known this was gonna happen.

- But you're not gonna
help them, these people?

- What?

- This radio thing, as you call it,

means a lot to the community.

- Oh come one, give it a couple of days,

and they'll forget it ever existed.

- And what gives you
the right to say that?

What do you know about it?

Some people can care, you
know, and they can feel bad

when they lose something they care about.

Are you gonna help them?

- When have I ever went against the grain

in this place, Alex, eh?

That is how I get the job done.

I go with the flow.

- Oh yeah, that's what
you do, isn't it, Hamish?

Go with the flow.

I was forgetting, silly of me.

- I'll neither help nor
hinder them, Alex, okay?

But whatever happens, it's, um...

- Yes?

- Oh look, what I'm trying to say is

I would never, ever do
anything to hurt you, Alex,

never, whatever I've done.

But you have to do it.

It's just, it wouldn't
be to hurt you, you know.

It's important that you know that.

- Why would I think you'd
set out to hurt me, Hamish?

- Look, I'm not saying that.

I'm just saying, I'm just saying.

That's all.

- I can hardly believe we're really here

and getting bloody paid for it, too.

- Yes, it is lovely.

- You know, Magda, much as I appreciate

this is a mutual journey of discovery,

if you get my meaning,

on a purely individual level,

I'm finding out an awful lot about myself.

I'm experiencing emotional responses

I never thought I was capable of

to this, to all this, Mag,
the bloody beauty of it.

It's so beautiful, Magda.

And to be seeing it with
you here by my side,

after all this waiting,

Magda, why don't we just
go to the caravan now?

- I'm not feeling that
way right now, Sydney.

.

Well, I've been waiting

throughout your divorce
proceedings, Magda,

and then having waited
for the emotional dust

to settle after that.

I suppose a few more
hours waiting won't hurt.

I don't suppose.

Morning.

- I made a list of things to do.

- Thank you.

But I think I might have
managed using my own initiative.

- Did you hear that, boys?

Use his own initiative.

I want a hotel to come back to, Barney,

so you just refer to that list constantly.

- Have you thought of maybe
pinning it to his jumper, Agnes?

- In case he loses the whole damn thing.

?

- Don't forget to tell
your mother I was asking.

- A caravan?

They're not paying you
enough to stay in a hotel?

Must be a bit awkward, no?

- The caravan's actually mine,
Constable, and Magda and I,

our relationship goes beyond
professional bounds, almost.

I've got a few names I'd
like to run past you.

They're pretty obscure,
but you never know.

Book Lady.

- Hmm, no.

- News Queen.

Professor Merino, I think he's
something to do with sheep.

- No.

- Flipside Jack.

- Mm mm.

- Lachie the Man.

, you mean Lachie the Man.

- Do you know him?

- No, I'm just helping you
with the pronunciation.

You see, it's ha, Lachie.

- Lachie, right.

- Yeah, and by the way,
there are thousands

of Lachies in them there hills.

- I'm sure there are.

Look, we'll just get on

with our work quietly here, Constable.

If we need any help, we'll let you know.

- Anytime.

- Come on, Ella.

- Thank God.

Right, I want it before we go on.

Talk naturally, okay.

Oh, and first we need
to find you a byname.

- Oh, Daddy will do fine,
thank you very much.

- Daddy?

I can't call you Daddy on air.

- Well, we won't be going on air, then.

- So folks, on this animal husbandry spot,

tonight we bring you my daddy.

- Good evening.

And tonight my daddy
will be talking about what

to do with hens that stop laying, Daddy.

- Well, Lachie the Man, first
thing is an external check

of the bird to get a picture
of her general condition.

Now if this reveals nothing,
we must look carefully

up the birds fundament
in search of blockages.

- It's fundament?

And what would that be, Daddy?

- That would be its arse, boy.

I had hoped to avoid using that term.

But in the light of
your amazing ignorance,

I'm afraid I had no option, next question.

- Well, maybe you'd like
to take a look, Daddy,

and tell us what you see.

- Oh you look lovely, Magda.

- Thank you, Sydney.

- You've really caught the sun, you know.

Sit down and relax.

It won't be long.

Have a breadstick while you're waiting.

Oh, and I've prepared
us a lovely pepper sauce

to go with this thing.

- Sydney.

- Oh, did I tell you they'd
started broadcasting, Magda.

I picked them up, no problem,

bearing 183 degrees from here.

And guess what.

- What?

- I've checked the maps.

There's not a single building
on that bearing I can see.

I think they're on the move, Magda.

- Then they'll be harder to catch, Sydney.

- Oh yes.

But why should we be in
a hurry to catch them?

- Sydney.
- Come on.

Have some wine.

- Isobel.

- Hi.

- It's working all right.

- Mm hmm, a bit warm, but it's working.

- Good.

Best get in.

- Yeah.

- Everything's locked, Magda.

Everything's safe and secure.

- Sydney, I can't.

- What?

Why not?

- I'm frightened, Sydney.

- Frightened?

With all due respect, my dear,
you're hardly new to this.

You were only married for 18 bloody years.

- No, you don't understand.

I have this feeling, Sydney,

that something terrible
is going to happen.

- Nonsense.

- No, please, Sydney.

I have this terrible sense of foreboding.

- Well, I suppose I should
be flattered, Magda.

I mean, other blokes get fobbed off

with mundane excuses like headaches.

I get foreboding.

- Don't be like this, Sydney.

- Well, what do you expect, Magda.

You're not the only one with
a biological clock, you know,

and mine's ticking away
just as fast as yours is.

That's why we have to
move this relationship

on to the physical
plane ASAP, Magda, ASAP.

- I'm sorry, Sydney.

- I see.

Oh Sydney.

- No, no, it's all right,
Magda, I understand.

Well, if not pleasure, business.

Perhaps I could spend
my time more fruitfully

listening to our quarry.

Good night, Magda.

- Continued, go marry your man.

Go on, you may as well.

I have no further claim upon you.

Why didn't he win you away before

when nobody would have been grieved?

Now the people sneer at me.

The very hills and sky
seem to laugh at me,

'til I blush shamefully at my folly.

I loved once.

When I'm dead they'll say

miserable lovesick man that he was.

,

, if I had
got jilted secretly,

and the dishonor not known.

All the time you knew,

how very well you knew that
your new freak was my misery.

Book Lady, folks.

Tune in tomorrow for the next heart--

- Thanks, everyone.

- That was superb, Hamish.

Wasn't that superb, Doc?

- Aye, sure.

Though I prefer the moderns myself,

Albert Camus, for instance.

- Drinks?
- I've got him!

I've got him over here.

- Pint, anyone?

- The doc's right about this man, listen.

Shh!

Quiet!

- "Mother died today, or was it yesterday?

"I don't know."

Simple, yet breathtaking.

One is immediately drawn

into this fractured, uncertain world.

- Anybody?

- Well, it's a wonderfully
economic prose style.

I'll give you that.

What did you say he was again, Doc?

- Albert Camus, the existentialist.

- Beer, anyone?

- Roughly put, a philosophy which suggests

that being comes before essence.

- Nonsense, being before
essence ,

I was born with a soul,
with an innate sense

of right and wrong.

I had my essence at birth.

Fascist bastard!

- Who said that?

Come on, show yourself, come on!

- Never mind who said it.

Stick to the point.

- Ah, you're quite right, Neil, eh.

You see, this existentialism,
it's the devil's own creed.

I know it is a recipe for social collapse.

Man, I can see it now.

I mean, let's say I go and
buy myself a new tractor,

a bright, shiny one, a red one, maybe, eh.

- Why red, Lachlan?

Is that significant?

No, no, no, no, no,

of course, that's not significant.

- If you don't buy a drink,

I'm gonna cut my throat.

- That was merely a postulate.

So anyway, I'm up on croft,
just walking around and about,

knocking down, as you do,
marveling at the new gadgets

that have come with this tractor.

When up comes this jackanapes

and starts making off with the tractor.

Here, I say, "That is my tractor.

"And it would not be a good idea

"for you to make off with it.

"That would be quite wrong, in fact."

But he can say, according to you lot,

"I'm an existentialist.

"I don't know what wrong is yet."

- I think you're being a
bit obstinate, Lachlan.

I think, in fact, vis
a vis, your postulate,

the phrase that springs

.

- We could argue here all night.

The only absolute truth is--

- What?
- Say what.

- There is no absolute truth.

That's an epistemological
comment, Lachlan.

- Who'd have thought it, eh?

The cut and thrust of
philosophical debate,

here in the Stag Bar.

- Existentialism!

Damned books have filled
their heads full of nonsense.

- It's not just books, Barney.

There were the old gangster movies,

the ultimate existential hero, you know,

the man who rejects all
laws and conventions

and goes his own way.

- Rejects all laws and convention?

- Gangsters, Barn?

I think you have enough
trouble with the philosophers.

Do you have
any books on it, Doc?

- Books, Barney?

- Aye, why not?

- That Barney's up to
something, don't you think?

- Hi, Isobel.

- I was wondering if we
might have a word, Hamish.

- Yeah, sure.

- Well, I'll just mosey along.

- I met Alex tonight.

I thought she might have had something

to say to me, but she didn't.

- Well, that's maybe because
I haven't told her yet.

- Can I ask why not?

- Because I'm trying to find
a way without hurting her.

- That's a decent instinct, Hamish,

but that way doesn't exist.

- Just give me time, Isobel, eh?

- You haven't mentioned the show,

what you thought of it.

- You were as good as ever, Alex.

- Thanks.

- Very emotional, heartfelt.

Alex.

- Did I say I thought it was over?

- Oh no.

- Hamish and me.

- Oh.

- Do you even want to
hear about such things,

for goodness' sake?

- Him or you?

- Him.

He hasn't said anything, but
I've suspected for some time.

- Oh what will you do?

- Leave, I think.
- Oh no.

- Get on with my life somewhere else.

- Hector.

- Aye?

- I was asking for your
advice on this matter.

- Oh men are hopeless,
emotionally, I mean.

And so he'll have to be asked right out.

Now if Macbeth is having difficulty

in expressing his feelings,

he has to be helped.

You'll just have to ask him right out.

- Thank you.

Aye, eh.

- Just promise me one thing.

- What?

- If you do go,

you'll finish that story first.

- Solemn promise.

- Books, you want?

I'll give you books.

- Ah, Jubel, come on in.

I've just given the place
a dust and hoover for you.

- Just to put you in the picture

about the bide a wee spot, Rory.

If you just try and imagine
your entertaining an old friend,

natural and intimate, you understand?

- First things first,
Lachie, do we have a deal

with the other transmission?

- We have a deal, Mr. Campbell.

- Good.

Now let me see.

A close friend, you say.

I think we should start with the Jacuzzi.

- First, we have to find you a name, Rory.

- I've already thought of one.

What exactly would
you say were the benefits

of a Jacuzzi, Big Grocer?

Relaxation, Lachie the Man.

You sink into them bubbles at the end

of the day, and ooh,

the tension just oozes out.

- You come across really well, Big Grocer,

very authoritative.

- Oh, you.

And now, we're
in Big Grocer's bedroom.

And what bedroom it is.

The most striking object is
the emperor size four poster,

which is canopied in
what I can only describe

as billowing sails of Broderie anglaise.

Big Grocer, this is a big bed.

- In a bed that size,

you get the tremendous feeling of space,

which generates a feeling of well-being,

which in turn generates,

well, you know what I
mean, Lachie the Man.

You feel you get carried
away in the wild, let's say.

- I've made you some Irish stew.

- From a tin?

- Yes.

I've been going over my notes again

about this bide a wee spot.

First, there's this Big Grocer.

Is he a grocer?

Maybe, maybe not.

But there are two indisputable facts.

One, he has a Jacuzzi.

Two, he's gonna do a
live broadcast tomorrow.

They mentioned it, it's some kind

of novelty spot.
- Sydney.

I've been seeing things.

- What?

- When I close my eyes,

there's a sudden violent storm,

four sheep, one with a red
stripe across its back.

- Well, that's very interesting, Magda.

I think I found the key,
you know, a Jacuzzi, yes.

- Do you still love me?

- What?

- I said do you still love me?

- I still care for you, Alex.

- But not love.

- No.

- Is it Isobel?

Just wanted to be sure.

- What's gonna happen?

- If you don't mind, I'd
rather not run home to Daddy.

If I could wait a few days

and leave from here, I'd appreciate that.

- You're gonna leave?

- Yes, that's what I want to do.

- Alex.

- Where's Barney?

It's 9:11.

Where is he?

- He says he'll be out
when he feels like it.

Oh, and Lachlan, wait 'til
you get a sight of this.

- Hey, Barney,

it's nearly half past.

- You're talking time, man.

I no longer recognize that constraint.

- What's he smoking?

- That's Gitanes by the smell
of it, French cigarettes.

- Cognac?

- Oh no, just the usual for me, Barney,

something soft for the boy, you know,

considering the time of day.

And you know, Lachie, Jr.,

it's your turn to pay.

?

There's no paying here.

Everything's free, man, come on.

You think Barney's bound
by the laws of commerce.

I live in good faith,
man, from here on in,

in good faith.

Now don't insult me with talk of paying.

Come and join me in beer!

Yeah!

- How do I look?

- Edible.

- Mr. Braithwaite, I think this
is a waste of time, really.

- No, no, no, there's
only one man in Lochdubh

with a Jacuzzi, Constable,
and he's a grocer.

- And big with it.

There he is.

- Hello, darling, do you
want to see my postcards?

- Sit down, baby.

- What's going on?

- Only life, baby,

only life!

Come, drink with me.

Drink some free spirits
from a free spirit.

- Free?

You've been giving it away.

- I found it here, everything.

I opened.

I read.

I was changed.

It just hit me.

Huh?

- Well, let's see if it can
reverse the process, baby.

- Stargazer, these
phenomenal powers of yours,

is there anything that sets them off?

- I find that elemental
forces help a great deal,

Flipside Jack, electricity, in particular.

- Electricity?

- So, you could be assailed by a vision

when you're doing the
ironing or boiling a kettle?

- Actually, I was thinking more of light.

Though, sometimes a
minor jolt will suffice.

Just a bit of
a glitch here, folks,

if you heard that.

Stargazer?

Stargazer?

- I'm sorry, what was I saying?

- Lachie.

- Lachie, Jr.

Look!

- Now, novelty time, which
tonight sees the writing

of the Big Grocer, with his
very own romantic verse.

- My dearie, in the day
as I coil amidst the jam

and the spam, the tins of
ham, I oftentimes, get weary.

When my back aches, my
limbs shake with fatigue,

and these young, old eyes get bleary,

I think of you, my dearie.

I think of the night
coming when the owl hoots,

and I can shed my working
boots and into slippers slip

and slip to you, my dearie.

I think of that Heaven on Earth,

where you wait there by the hearth,

my cup, full, warm and waiting.

You've even ran the bath.

- Oh no, Professor Merino, no!

- I am a king, a king,

a king, a king, a king,

but no subject there need fear me,

nor bend the knee nor kiss my
hand nor otherwise be leery,

for this king reigns but in your heart,

your precious heart,

my dearie.

- That was great, Mr. Campbell.

- Thank you.

- There's your sheep, Magda.

They were a good omen.

They brought us luck.

- So here endeth Radio Lochdubh.

Alex, come on.

- Here endeth every bloody thing.

I was to finish tonight, I promised.

- Well, it's not your fault.

No?

- Look, it is not your fault.

You are so predictable.

- What?

- I made an undertaking.

I said to another human
being I will do this.

- Oh Alex, please.

- Please what?

Please, don't actually talk
about what you've done to me?

I made a promise, and
it hurts me to break it.

Now how could you even
begin to understand that?

You should have told me.

You should have told me and
not had me hanging around here

like so much excess baggage.

- Please, Alex, please--

- Please leave me.

Leave me.

Just leave me alone.

Hey, Barney.

- Hamish.

- What happened to him?

- Agnes happened.

- Lost the battle, as
they say, but won the war.

- Who's in the dining room, Barney?

- Nobody.

- There's somebody there.

- It's the couple from the detector van.

- Just listen to that.

I've booked us a room.

Maybe you need a change of surroundings.

- No.

- Magda?

Magda, what is it?

- Please, make it stop.

- Who is the woman?

Who?

- What is it?

- Let me see.

Magda?

- Oh God.

- Show me.

Oh no.

- Keep him here.

- Don't you go down there, Hamish.

You stay here with me.

- John, you tell me.

You tell me now.

- She's dead, son.

She's dead.

- They found her, Agnes.

She's gone, she's dead.

- You know, I always knew
you were special, Magda.

But now it seems you're even
more special than I thought.

Esme.