All language subtitles for The.artful.dodger.S01E05.EDITH.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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- They're here.
- Who? The watch?

Spirits. Ghosts.

They're in here, all right.

Turn off the lanterns,
you'd see their eyes.

- They'll be watching.
- They change the watch in four minutes.

Move.

Forgive me, Father.

It has been 14 hours
since my last confession.

Really, that long? You felt
it couldn't wait till morning?

No. These thoughts haunt my nights.

I'm filled with an
unquenchable fire, Father.

A rage of such purity, that all
I crave is violent retribution.

Yes, well, that's quite natural.

Port Victory is a cesspit.
A pox-ridden sewer.

Everywhere I look, the
stench of filth and scum.

It is a stench below the
very ground we walk on.

Aputi, you stay here.

We'll take the empty one up and
bring the full one back down.

So, I'll be alone down here?

I hear voices. Do you hear voices?

- Guards.
- They can hear ghosts?

They can hear you, you pillock. Quiet.

You're hearing things. Come on.

All right. All clear, come on.

It seeps through the soil

and has now poisoned my own wife,

turning this once-virtuous woman

into a debauched wastrel,
destined for the fires.

I can see their eyes looking at me now.

- Sorry, whose eyes?
- Sneering eyes...

Yes, them.

... mocking me, because she has
given herself over to the devil.

I refuse...

... to be humiliated by these people!

God is challenging me to take a scythe

and cut through this foul effluvium.

All right.

It should be one of these barrels
here. The smell will tell you.

Aputi, do you have to do that?

I can see eyes.

Yes, they're mine.

I thought you said you
don't do crime no more?

Hide.

I tell ya, I heard voices.

Oh, my God.

You tell me you didn't hear that.

Flashbang.

- What is that you're in?
- Sardines, I think.

- Why didn't you just hide behind it?
- Wise, in hindsight.

Whoa!

Over here. This is it, all right.

Why, does it smell?

It's the fermenting insides of a whale.

- So, yes, it smells.
- And it smells bad, do it?

What part of the "fermenting insides
of a whale" do you not understand?

Not good on smells.

Lost all sense in the Taiwan
explosion. Overdid the gunpowder.

- I thought you lost your hearing, then?
- No, that was Singapore.

There's really not very much "flash"

to your "bang," is there, Flashbang?

It's pretty much all bang.

Now, we're in the whale's
gizzards game? You eat this stuff?

No. This is ambergris.
They use it to make perfume.

And this barrel is worth
its weight in silver.

- Synced and corrected by naFraC -
- www.MY-SUBS.com -

You gentlemen seem rather
bedraggled by life's woes.

Aye. We heard things tonight.
Things you cannae unhear, you know?

I always say, "A tumbler of the
old golden wallop lifts the heart."

You just wait there.

My sweet Lady Rottenford, two
of your finest, if you please.

And with what legal tender would
you be paying for these drinks?

You've got me solemn oath,
you will be paid in abundance

just as soon as we manage to
offload this bloody ambergris.

And how will this
miracle be achieved, then?

I'm gonna have me coveys replicate the

exact texture and stink of this stuff,

so not even the whale's wife will
know that we've made the switch.

And in the meantime,

I goes and flogs the original
ambergris for a very pretty return.

Mmm. So, how long will this take?

It will require the, shall we
say, the capaciousness of time.

A few days. A few days.

Waylaying these fine sailors'
departure with some wholesome libations.

Then, you should probably know

the capaciousness of
time is leaving the bar.

Yeah.

Oh, buggering.

Lads!

Lads! Where are you headed?

I've never been so
happy to return to sea.

Captain wants us to sail
tomorrow on the king tide.

No, no, no, you can't.

You know the old sailors' adage,

"Sail on the morrow,
expect much sorrow."

- Weather be on the turn.
- No, it won't.

The weather be bloody clement, actually.

All right, mate.

That's just a tickle of
drizzle, that's all. Lads!

Lads!

Seen your boy emerge from the bowels

with two others and a barrel.

- Oh, hello. Here he is.
- Somethin' I need to know?

No, only that our boy is
back in the goodly fold.

You got somethin' over him?

Not this time, no.

Just seems that being spurned by a woman

is a great boon to our profession.

Just make sure he don't
get careless and get caught.

- When your boy gets his blood up...
- Oi!

Don't tell me how to run the Dodger.

How do they turn this
stuff into perfume?

Seen Frenchies do it.

Spices, herbs, alcohol,

stir it in a big drum,
steam it for a long time.

Listen.

The natural order of the days
ahead has changed direction

in a positive and,
arguably, negative light.

English.

The Duchess of Portland sails
on tomorrow evening's tide.

That's not near enough
time to make a fake.

Sadly, needs dictate we return
the barrel to the docks tonight,

before they discover its absence.

- No, we do not cower. We stay course.
- You will be discovered.

There's no thievin' to
be done if they scrag us.

We're not takin' this back.

You wanted me back in.
Here I am, I am back.

You can work on it in the morgue.

It's already stinking the place out.

Oi! Dodge!

Remember what I always
told you as a little 'un?

A pickpocket needs to
know when to pull out.

And you always had to play it dangerous,

and sometimes, I had
to take a gentle hand

and nab you back from
the edges of calamity.

Well, now, is one of them times.

You can keep your hands to yourself.

I want a win.

You've been moping ever
since Dr. Dawkins ruined our dinner.

Come on. Up!

Close them now. Immediately.

No, there'll be none of that.

- Are you feeling any better?
- Yes, I'm completely cured.

- Close the curtains.
- I have a gift to lift your spirits.

- A guillotine?
- Better.

A painting made with these very hands.

It's the story of us.

Our journey here, a house, a kangaroo.

- What are these?
- Tree trunks.

I keep seeing these in my
dreams. I'm rather drawn to them.

So, there's no story of us.

Fanny, we're as much prisoners
here as we were in London society.

Dr. Sneed is here for you.

No, for your sister. He
wishes to take her shooting.

This is an endless world of
bogglingly-stupid dinner parties,

men boasting all night,
and pretending, somehow,

against all evidence,
they're cleverer than us.

They are. That is why
they're in positions of power.

Fine. And stay at home all day,
painting hideous scenes of trees.

I'm sure she didn't
mean to say those things, Fanny.

She's not well, darling.

Would you draw the curtains, please?

- Well done. Another bull's eye.
- One of my many gifts.

Here, let me show you.

Oh, I'm afraid I'm not really
interested in shooting at these.

Ah, none of that.

I'm a modern man who happens to believe

shooting is an essential
skill for women, too. Here.

- Good.
- Yes, thank you.

A little cock.

Look down the barrel with
an eye focused on the sight,

and ever so gently...

- Just...
- Oh!

Whoo!

- Thank you.
- Mmm.

- It was most exhilarating.
- Yes. Ah.

I hear you keep requesting my presence.

My dear friend,

it is not fitting that a man of
my standing should be treated thus.

Yet, here we are.

I am the victim of a most
egregious misunderstanding.

Pray, do tell.

What you witnessed those long
weeks ago was not as it appeared.

I was working as an
intermediary on your behalf.

Lucien, I was endeavouring to protect

your lady wife's spotless reputation.

By giving her pubic crabs, you mean?

No! Her condition

was the consequence of inefficient
laundry by an infected maid.

When you found us, I was
rushing her to hospice.

So, I see I am in your debt.
And the stolen soldiers' pay?

I swear before God
and all that is sacred,

I have no idea how that
ended up in our carriage.

I do. You were set up.

Indeed, I believe I
know who is responsible.

So, you believe me?

Oh, yes. Indeed.

It was the young surgeon
and his repugnant uncle.

It's only a matter of time before I

catch them in the act and they too hang.

Too?

Well, unless you can explain

how you contracted the very
same pubic crabs as my wife,

you'll most definitely meet the gallows

on whatever charge I choose to conjure.

- It's no London, is it?
- Thank God for that.

Yet, it is still a place
with enormous possibility,

where one with drive and ambition may

make oneself a great career for oneself.

- Yeah, oneself being male, of course.
- Of course.

But also, for the one whose
companionship one will share with...

Could one say things plainly? There
are perfect pronouns for the task.

I'm about to come into
a considerable endowment.

- Mmm.
- My brother, the Honourable James Sneed,

has acquired a licence
in the Spice Islands

and, through filial love,

allowed me a ten percent
share of his nutmeg trade.

You're a surgeon. What use is nutmeg?

My dear Belle, are you
not apprised of its worth?

How sweet.

A large canister of nutmeg
would buy one a house in Mayfair.

But surely, being a surgeon is the
most exciting thing in the world.

Healing people, caring for people.

I would give anything to
have such a profession.

It's all right, I suppose.

But now that I am to be Chief Surgeon

upon the professor's retirement, one...

I am in a position to offer a companion,

a woman, a life of comfort and security.

Oh, my God, please don't.

Belle, until my brother offered me this,

I did not feel in a
position to speak openly,

but now, I humbly seek
your hand in marriage.

Why?

But you must know how I feel?

No, I have absolutely not the faintest.

Sneed, I've known you for many
years as a friend and a companion.

I never sensed anything deeper.

You don't love me, do you?

Love comes with settling
and companionship.

You must see our families and my
position make this a perfect match.

It is not yet a ring, but in
its own way, far more valuable.

Nutmeg.

Yes, it's not an unpleasant smell.

So, do I have your blessing to
go and converse with your father?

Uh...

Well, one needs time for one
to fully consider one's...

... one.

No, this isn't right.

Ambergris needs to be thicker,
more solid. What have we tried?

A crate of off oysters,
sheep's testicles,

some seaweed, crab carcasses,
and Samuel Dean's liver.

Any whaler worth his salt
will pick this as fake.

It needs to be thicker.

Dodge, Dodge, come here.

Listen, I'm as bricky as anyone.

There's nothin' I like more than
a bit of pilfering done right,

puts a sparkle in the eyes.

But if we can't match this

by the turn of this evening's
tide, they'll be onto us.

They're onto us, anyway. The
moment we open our mouths,

the moment they realise we can't
even read some toff Latin nonsense.

We're not even worth
sitting at their table.

What's that gotta do with anything?

Look, the toffs will never accept us

and neither do we accept the toffs.

That's the human condition.

But don't get us hanged

because you're in a huff
about your fancy skirt.

To hell with it, then. Can't even
stand the smell of that stuff.

Oh, come on! It's no worse
than the Thames at low tide.

See, my todger is giving
me all kinds of grief, you see,

and we're sailing tonight.

You have classic pox,

and I want you to place this
weight on the end of your member,

thus allowing the exuding of pus.

Then keep bathing it in mercury and
arsenic for the long voyage ahead.

Next.

What's wrong with your head, sailor?

Navigator. Me eyes.

Right. Pull them down.
Make sure you take two pills a day.

I was struck when Duchess
of Portland's foresail boom

snapped in a storm
off the northern coast.

Right.

Thank you.

- Next.
- Dodger, while you're busy here,

now would be a good moment
to nudge that barrel shipward.

Yes, fine. Do it.

You need to eat oranges.
You're developing scurvy.

Roll it back, lads.

Preserve me, sir. Is
there naught you can do?

It's me livelihood.

Unless you doctors can fix me,

the Captain has no choice
but to use another navigator.

I'm sorry. There's naught
one can do about it.

Purchase a cane.

You, what is the grave
digger wheeling out?

Samuel Dean's organs,
sir. A large gentleman.

Malodorous in life, apparently.

- Sir! A word, if I may.
- Not now.

I just overheard your sad conversation
with that surgeon just now,

and though I'm not much
given to emotion, I was moved.

Then you know why I do
not wish to converse.

I would ask you don't lose hope.

You should talk to this other surgeon.

He's much better qualified, and
he's done this operation 100 times.

Maybe 200 times and with great success.

It would mean a very minor delay before

the Duchess of Portland sets sail...

If you are serious,

the Captain is a relative, I
may yet convince him of the need.

When can I meet this surgeon?

You just leave it with
me, all right? Hang on.

Back, boys, roll it back,
come on. Come on, back.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

You need a steady hand. Now, listen.

They do say a man cannot change
tides or oceans, but I, Norbert Fagin,

have managed to delay the
departure of the Duchess of Portland

- by three days.
- How?

- What have you got us into?
- Nothing.

You might have to perform
a very minor operation.

I'm sorry, I can't help you.

The man is completely cross-eyed.

He can't even see a hand
in front of his own face.

But he does have a very
good view of his right ear.

I thought this is what you
wanted. Don't you see the beauty?

It buys us time.

How many times did you
tell him I've done this?

Once. Tell a lie, twice.

Do you know how difficult,
how precise this procedure is?

- No.
- If he moves, I blind him.

You need to have more
confidence in your artfulness.

This is beyond my skill.

Nothing is beyond the Dodger's skill!

Back slang it, lads.
Dodger's gone a wobblin'.

I demand to know why you
were seeing my patient.

I had already made it abundantly
clear his condition is inoperable.

He wanted a second opinion.

From you? Please.

Wouldn't you want a second opinion

if some spoilt,
pompous, upper-class prat

with only basic medical knowledge
told you your career was over?

Never cross me again on
matters medical, Dawkins.

I don't know how things were
done on your side of the city,

but that's not how we do things here.

You will not operate on that man.

And if I find that foul stench

has anything to do with you
or your illiterate friends,

I will see you are all soundly punished.

That's so strange because, you see,

we all thought that that
smell was coming from you.

All right, I will do it.

Hey! Back inside, lads.

Bring that cat to the morgue. It's on.

I'm not hungry, Fanny.

Look, I've drawn you another picture.

Thank you. I will eat it cold.

Hello.

- Have you completely lost all sense?
- Quite possibly.

If you have come to apologise for
your behaviour from now weeks ago,

then you must do it formally
and at a proper time.

I will consider whether or
not to accept it. Please go.

Do you know about Strabismus surgery?

What does a criminal
need to know about that?

- You don't know what it is?
- It's the realignment of the eye.

See? I knew you'd know.

Would you happen to have some
medical textbook that might...

Yes. Stay here.

Actually, no. Come, I've
got valuable items in here.

You gonna eat this soup?

No, apparently not.

What's that you're holding?

Apparently, a tree.

This way.

"It was first performed in
the 1830s by John Homer Dix.

The surgeon needs
only three instruments,

a fine hook to elevate the conjunctiva,

a bent probe to isolate the tendon,

and scissors for opening
up the conjunctiva."

Pictures. I need pictures.

Yes. Here.

It is so dangerous.

Yeah, but you love that, don't you?

Can you do it?

Yes.

Maybe.

Hmm.

It's important for both of us that we

clear the air about what transpired.

I admit that I said things in
that moment that I now regret.

And I'm equally sure
that you said things

that now, in the cold light
of day, you wish were...

Are you feeling any better, sister?

Yes, fine.

See, you eat, and you are well again.

You've had eight turns this
past month. I do count them.

I am fine. Go to bed.

Now, what is that awful smell?

Fagin.

It smells like ambergris.

Like what?

Will you wait?

Are you going to apologise to me or not?

No. What for?

For the way you spoke to me.

I was hurt.

And I'm sorry if I
spoke to you abruptly.

But I don't know how to talk to
women. I've never really had to.

I am similarly rarely interested
in anything a man has to say.

And I forgive you.

Good.

Don't invite me to any
more stupid dinner parties.

Your lot will never accept me.

Why would you want them to accept you?

You have no idea how boring we all are.

Not all of you.

Here you go, sir.

Can you just cover your
right eye for me, please?

Now, how many fingers am I holding up?

Two?

Lower your arm.

Now, how many?

Four.

You have almost no vision in
your right eye either, do you?

Shapes mainly, left
was me last good eye.

Tell me why you like being a sailor.

With respect, ma'am, I'm not
just a sailor, I'm a navigator.

Went to sea when I was 12,

worked on a hundred ships,
most of them terrible.

But I learnt, ma'am.

Everything there is to
know about the oceans

and currents, the winds, and the stars.

You have no idea what it feels like

when those around trust
their fortune to you.

You should know my colleague
is an inveterate liar.

And not only have I never
performed this surgery before,

but nobody in this country has.

I see.

Oh.

What I can tell you,

is the condition in your right eye will

only continue to get worse with time,

to the point where you
might never see again.

Now, if we try and we fail here tonight,

then you will lose your
vision in both eyes.

However, on the slim
chance that we succeed,

you might get to navigate again.

So, what are we waiting for?

All right.

Strap him to the table,
please. As tight as you can.

I need your help with this one, Belle.

Can you pass me the hook, please?

Thank you.

That's it. Good.

Now hold this very taut.

Hold still.

Do you think it worked?

We won't know until
we remove the bandages.

At Government House,

I heard your sister say that
this was your eighth attack.

What did she mean by that?

She imagines things.

What the navigator said,

did that sound true for you?

It was the greatest day of my life

when I got promoted to sublieutenant.

They gave me my own bed.

I'd never had my own bed before.

And my own room.

Must be wonderful to be at sea.

Travel the world.

It was.

It was the best and the worst of times.

I saw all kinds of things I
didn't even think were possible.

Wild animals and festivals.

In Hong Kong, I saw this giant
paper dragon with 50 people under it

and as they moved, this dragon
appeared to dance and breathe fire.

It was quite amazing.

Where the devil is Dawkins?

Lady Belle.

I can scarce believe my eyes.

I insist you return to
Government House immediately

and we will discuss this later.

Or possibly not.

I have always known you to be a
reprehensible, arrogant upstart,

with no respect for your betters.

I have enormous respect for my betters.

It is just there are none around here.

You have directly performed an
operation I had forbidden you to do.

That I specifically said was not a safe

operation in the patient's interest.

And I agree with your diagnosis.

A surgeon of your skill level,
Sneed, it would have been impossible.

I am to be Head Surgeon
here in two months.

You will no longer have a role here

and I will ensure you have it
nowhere else in the country.

You can crawl back to
your own kind, Dawkins.

Is that how you fight in Mayfair?

I believe the sulphuric
miasma permeating the town

is in reality manifested
from below, not above.

That be unusual,
wouldn't it, Captain Gaines?

What we are smelling now,
is evil's canker, writ large.

Perhaps get the captain a chair, Father.

I am fine where I stand.

I am more inclined to the view

that the smell emanates from the
direction of the sewerage pipes

that the Governor approved last year.

Gravity being what it is.

Mmm. In what sense, my darling?

In the sense that the raw sewage now

flows and pools in the centre of town,

not away from it.

Hard to say, one way or the other.

No, it's not a riddle, darling.
Let me speak to the engineers.

Engineers cannot fix evil.

Have you heard from your lovely
wife lately, Captain Gaines?

She still visiting relatives?

Yes, well, thank you, Captain Gaines.

Oh, uh...

Would a possible solution
be to run the pipes

from the centre of town into the
harbour, where it will have no effect?

No.

The most exciting news.
There is to be a duel in town.

Don't be silly, duels are illegal.

Not necessarily.

I rather think it might be over moi.

It does eliminate one possible suitor,

but what does one wear to a duel?

Black is foreshadowing, but green?

Who is involved?

Rainsford!

- What?
- You cannot do this.

- This is as much my fault as his.
- The man has pushed me too far.

We will settle it like gentlemen.

One of us will. Pistols at dawn.

Then I flatly refuse to marry you.

- Enjoy your stupid nutmeg.
- Belle.

Lady Belle. Please.

There's no glimmer in this.

There's no glimmer anywhere.

We got it! We got it!

It took Nellie Walpole's
spleen and the cow tripe,

but we got there in the end.

Just a sample.

Perfect smell, match and look!

Wonderful! Wonderful!

Now you can stop buggering about
with them swords and listen to this.

I have procured a buyer,
one Fettiplace Bellers,

a man so unscrupulous,
he makes me skin itch,

and he is prepared to pay 80
florins for the genuine article.

Then we have plenty
of money to celebrate

when I teach this fool a lesson.

Look, if you kill this
toff, they'll hang you!

And if he kills you, they won't care,

but I will be back on the chain gang.

You idiot! You absolute dunderhead!

At last! Someone who sees what I see.

What were you thinking?

I am tired of being
treated like some mangy dog.

You are not a mangy dog.

And he is an idiot for
treating you like one.

Apologise and withdraw. Please.

And bow down to his arrogance? No.

And I'm not going to kill him, I
will barely scratch the pompous git.

Don't worry, I spent
ten years in the Navy.

I am a master with the sword.

Good. Because it is
pistols, pistols at dawn.

And he is a master shot.

Oh.

I do not have time to fuss
about missing warehouse stock.

No, with respect, sir,

but this barrel, it's
worth a king's fortune,

and now it's as empty as me head.

- Well...
- I need you to arrest two men.

Will these two do? On
what charges, my lady?

On charges of planning to be
utterly stupid and fight a duel.

- Who would be doing that?
- Two young surgeons.

Really? So, Jack Dawkins is involved.

I can only charge them if it goes ahead.

Intention is not a crime, sadly.

The benefit for me on such
occasions is that after the duel,

there's usually only one to arrest.

I hear Sneed is a fine shot.

Sir, there was ambergris in the barrels.

And our skipper will have both our heads

if it's not back on there when we sail.

Ambergris? I imagine the
smell would be devilish.

- I've never noticed.
- Never noticed. No.

Like the smell emanating
from the hospital.

This is turning into a
fine day. Good lady, I...

I would love to help you boys,

but the old back isn't
the friend it used to be.

What's in the barrel? Looks heavy.

It's food for the widows, my lady.

How very admirable of you all.
And you, delivering it in person.

Can one try a mouthful?

Their need is greater, my lady.

I only ask because I
heard Captain Gaines

is currently heading towards the wharf

to locate a missing barrel of
something called... Was it ambergris?

But I know you wouldn't be so utterly

stupid as to risk everything for that.

Captain Gaines will have no issue with

good men engaged in a charitable cause.

Hmm...

Lobster bisque?

Move.

Come on.

Unlock it.

Smash it.

Go! Move!

No. The barrel's stuck.

Go.

It's this one, sir.
Right here. Empty as...

Ow!

Remove the lid.

Ugh!

Uh...

I swear, guv, just less than an
hour ago, it was completely empty.

This is black magic. This
place is full of devils.

We heard 'em cryin' out.

Flog them both for wasting my time.

- No, sir.
- No.

Sir!

Now, how many fingers?

Forty-seven.

- Thank you, surgeon.
- You're welcome.

You know, being blind there,
it heightens other senses.

I swear I smelled something,
and not a hospital smell.

But now, you have restored my
sight, the smell seems gone.

There you go, Aputi.
Flashy, well done, my friend.

I shall see you all in the morrow.

What's this I hear about our
boy fighting a duel tomorrow?

Didn't take long for him
to get reckless now, did it?

Now, I've gotta go slash
some other geezer's throat

just to keep Jackie boy
safe, till we needs him.

That's a very good idea. And
make Dodger the main suspect?

Get back down in the drains,
let me deal with this.

If he dies tomorrow, all
our plans die with him.

Remember that.

I've never witnessed a duel
before. I've always wanted to.

I've seen a pugilist batter
another pugilist to death,

and I rather enjoyed that.
Where are you going to shoot him?

I just want it over.

However this turns out, I am
mostly grateful to have known you.

And likewise, Dodge. Life won't
be the same without you, you idiot.

Since when does
a priest officiate a duel?

Now, for God's sake, don't toy with him

like you did with that Belgian in
Antwerp 'cause that was horrible.

And go for the heart. No
more shooting in the face.

A lot of these toffs
prefer an open casket. Ah!

The Rottenford duelling pistol.
Your favourite, isn't it?

Gentlemen, are you prepared
to settle this amicably?

Don't you dare.

Ah.

Wonderful. Now, that being the case,

seconds, ensure the weapons are loaded.

Has, uh, Dr. Sneed made
his funeral arrangements?

He didn't believe that
would be necessary.

Really? Well, we can always
talk about that afterwards.

You must take ten paces each,
turn and fire on my signal.

All clear?

Then let us proceed with
the festive proceedings.

Come.

Here.

There.

One, two,

three, four, five,

six, seven, eight, nine, ten!

Cease this immediately!

I'm told, rather unsportingly,

that this town cannot survive
without its two surgeons.

Lower your weapons.

Now, the rules are very clear.

In circumstances such as these,
the seconds must assume their place.

What?

Hold up. Is that a thing? I
don't think that's a thing.

No. This is madness.

I don't think either
is a suitable suitor.

No. This is not how
I want to view a duel.

No, in England, the second is
usually thanked kindly for his time,

and then, very often financially

compensated for all
the emotional stress.

Everybody goes home happy. It's lovely.

- No. The Governor is right.
- There we go.

I'm from a good family,
dating back to 1256.

- I withdraw my allegation.
- Please, stop this.

- I apologise. Unreservedly.
- No. Too late.

- Stop this.
- Honour must be served.

Dodge.

There.

One, two, three, four, five,

six, seven, eight, nine, ten!

Fire!

My Lord!

This one looks inoperable, Dr. Dawkins.

He will need a cane if he survives.

What we have here,

is a man injured in
his quest for honour.

He is also my Head Surgeon

and will replace me in the future.

For this reason, it requires
the steadiest of hands,

as I attempt the very dangerous
procedure of amputating his leg,

a foot above the knee.

Now, if you'll just bite down on this.

Tim...

Help me.

Half an hour ago, you wanted to kill me.

This does beg the question, "What
would you do in my position?"

I will give you your
job back. I guarantee it.

Just please, don't let him amputate.

Yes.

Here, Prof, let me wipe your brow.

Apologies, gentlemen,
there will be no show today.

As you can see, the professor
is overcome with emotion.

Later today, we'll be
amputating Spencer Shaw's arm,

which will be more
exciting. Come back for that.

Really?

Now, I assume you will be maintaining

your strong stance against anaesthetic?

Give it to me, damn you.

Thank you, I won't need you on this
one. You can tend to the professor.

Three trained professionals
are in this room.

One is the patient, the other is me.

And one is a complete fool.

Yes. Quite possibly.

I'm sorry, I can't remember.
Which leg am I cutting off again?

Dawkins...

Surely, you're not removing his leg.

No. Just removing bullet, unfortunately.

If it was me, I'd be
shaving off his eyebrow.

You make the first incision.

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