All language subtitles for Harlots.S03E01.WEB.x264-TBS

I want to destroy Lydia Quigley.

So do I.

Then we'll be allies.

I'm trying
to act against Quigley

yet find myself doing her bidding.

I hate you.

My secret is a child.

My brother.

She is his.

Your uncle is a monstrous incubus.

It is him I protect you from.

Miss Wells, may I tempt
you out for a drive?

Lord Fallon's made me another offer.

He's sending for me tonight.

You've killed.

Be silent or your
lovely daughter hangs.

I'll confess to the murder
of Sir George Howard.

- Take care of things for me.
- Well yes.

The Lord Justice was
going to spare your mother,

but I implored him not to.

Get her down, man!

Tomorrow you set sail for America.

No, there is no hope
for me without my family!

Tell us what you know

or I'll release this avenging angel.

What to blame? Is it your king?

It's Blayne! Blayne.

I do freely confess.

I see no other path
but to take my own life.

She's alive.

No one can know.

She can never come back, can she?

It was your mother who assured
that mine kissed the rope.

Charles!

I can't hang her, no
matter what she's done.

- You must come with us.
- Where?

It's her judgment day.

- Synced and corrected by Firefly -
- www.addic7ed.com -

_

We're most grateful for
your interest in Catherine.

She's a headstrong girl,
but with firm instruction,

she'll transform into a
biddable and doting wife.

I look forward
to having her as my own.

She's in the stables. Horse-mad.

But I'm sure you'll soon tame that.

Bless God, for this is paradise.

There was no other path for me.

If your position was ordained by birth,

then so was mine.

Our men do well at keeping
wives and courtesans apart.

I thought some discourse
between us might be of use.

I simply want to know if
she's ruining my husband.

I'm a bawd now.

I run a house. There's
hardly a man in my bed.

So you live off the flesh of others.

Girls come to me from the street.

I offer them income and safety.

They've been ruined by poverty,

not by Miss Wells.

And there's more that
we can do for them.

You'd have us offer charity to whores?

I knew your minds would be small.

We'll break through their prejudice.

I know it.

Their prejudice will break you.

Oh, Lucy Wells on arrival
with another man from London.

She's mine, sir. Mine.

No, she's mine.

Don't make me laugh, Hans, no.

She's abs... I shall be
taking her home tonight.

I've lavished her with
gifts the entire month.

Right, you must win
me in a chariot race.

Madam, perhaps
a ride in my chariot?

This way.

You men, take my hat
and be away with you.

Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets!

Come on, you lot! Put your
coin where your mouth is!

There's a lady to be won!

Well, she makes them roar.

Come on!

Right, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!

So this is London.

Come on, you lot!

We'll find gold in the muck,

even if we have to sup with witches.

You don't look like gentry.

Oh, this has all the class we need.

We're six up from Bishopsgate.
Our trade's insurance.

Don't be fooled
by my dainty size.

Any trouble, I'll flay your face off.

Mr. Chadwick,
what big guns you've got.

I only have to see a
man's pistol and I swoon.

The shot is loaded and I'm taking aim.

Light the flintlock, Mr. Chadwick.

Oh, yes. Yes.

- Fire away.
- Oh!

I declare it a draw.

A new challenge must decide it.

Whoever licks that bald man's head first

gets me.

They've not spent enough. Not yet.

Lick his head! Lick his head!

You'll have to tup
one of them in the end.

Tup yourself.

I do.

I've given you my
whole month's allowance

and I insist.

Well, you'll have to catch me first.

Hey, Charlotte, put him right.

He's a right cheeky dog, that one.

Is this the legend, Charlotte Wells?

I'm going to buy whatever she sells.

Don't tell me. You're a poet.

You'll find that I'm cut
with a fine, manly figure.

Your mouth or your
manhood, which one's bigger?

There's no pretense with me.
You get exactly what you see.

A beauty is Fanny, with rhyming uncanny.

What word do you use for
your moist nook and cranny?

I call it my cunt, actually.

Poetry was made for rogues and harlots.

I'm no rogue.

Mmm, you disappoint me.

Tavern boy, soldier, citizen, trader.

I earn money with my artful tongue.

We're the same in that.

Of all the light girls and Jezebels,

none holds a torch to Charlotte Wells.

Nerve endings.

This is where mental
disorders originate.

And stimulating these nerves

can improve the
condition of the lunatic.

There is no more effective
stimulation of the nerves

than bodily evacuation.

The more violent, the better.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I give you the rotational chair.

No, please, please. No, no, no.

No, please!

I beg you, please!

She will be spun for two hours or more.

Her dizziness will provoke
involuntary evacuation

through every orifice,

thus enlivening her defective nerves.

Charles! No!

Charles!

So like Boadicea or Lady Godiva?

Shut up and use your mouth better.

Oh!

Please, fetch...

fetch me a bucket, please.

Please! Please!

Gin.

You've mistaken me for your flunkie.

This is a pincher tavern now.

Only our girls tout here.

I'm not touting. I'm drinking.

Gin.

Chadwick. Gunmaker.

Breath like burning
rags, but he tips in gold.

Keep it.

Your riches are mine in other ways.

Lucy? Wha...

Are you fallen off your chandelier?

I'm hiding from a cull.

- Then hide somewhere else.
- Don't you know who this is?

Lucy Wells.

Moves through London like a comet,

leaving dead gentry in her wake.

Lucy Wells?

Welcome to the Saracen's.

I heard you were in
posh rooms up on Swallow Street

with a maid to sew
pearls in your muff-hair.

And what are you? Tavern whore?

No, I run all these
girls for Hal Pincher.

And I'm riding him for
England and St. George.

Lucy!

Lucy Wells!

- Where are you?
- My cull.

Some nights I just can't be fadged.

Well, then those muff
pearls will all turn to sand.

I'm gonna go wash a
gunmaker out me garden.

You win.

Do you know how long it's been

since I last rode a pole?

Since I became a bawd.

What made you break your fast?

Some sport for my restless soul.

I don't think
I've given you my name.

Isaac Pincher.

Me and my brother have taken
the lease on the Saracen's Head

in Villiers Street.

There's a place for you in our empire.

What do you mean?

This is my list.

To rival the Harris's.

I'll give you and your
girls matchless write-ups

and promote your house
till it's first in Soho.

For my services
in expanding your trade,

I'll take nothing but a small levy.

One quarter of what you make.

So not a poet, but a
sly, backstreet pimp.

There's a bond between us.

You can feel it.

We're both from the streets.

I'm the world's fool.

How dare you toy with me?

Come to terms amicably,
for every girl you've got

is in the arms of one of my men.

Do you threaten us with violence?

Don't let it come to that.

These men are not what they say!

They are filthy, pimping scum!

- Hey, hey!
- Get your hands off me!

Get your hands off me!

You need to accept my offer.

Go peck yourself, you little cock!

I don't want to do
this. I hate to do this.

Be my prize.

I accept.

A most excellent decision.

You two, stay on the door.
Take the money.

Give the girls their portion.

The role I was assigned
at birth was poverty.

Hell on Earth, as you know.

Debt collectors.

Open up!

If you don't let them
in they'll break down the door.

- I can't face them.
- Open this door!

You must run.

Where to?

I said open this door!

I've lost it.

I've lost Golden Square.

You'll find
a way to win it back.

Stop staring at me

with those stupid, hopeful eyes.

You're like a fish dying in a puddle.

Save yourself.

Open up!

Oy!

Get out of the way!

After him!

"Nor that I am more
better than Prospero..."

"Master of a full poor cell..."

"And thy no greater father..."

I've committed no crime!

No!

In the name of mercy, I beg you!

A common groom.

Gave her obscene pleasure.

A surfeit of venereal nerves

can give the female
odd and unbridled lusts.

She's in the right hands.

Please not this place!

This place is hell!

Then pray to God for forgiveness.

Vile hypocrite!

My father will raise up

from his grave for what you do to me!

I hope you
die in a spasm of anguish!

Shush, shush!

Your pain will be interpreted as mad.

Get back, horrid creature!

Why could I not come down tonight?

My friends would have found
me lacking as your guardian.

What was your salon about?

It was a failed experiment.

Few in our circle see the world as I do.

She paraded her courtesan
in front of her friends.

Daring or reckless?

Unconventional.

And yet she hides me away
and treats me like a child.

Would you be daring too?

William North will kill me
for letting in those fiends.

He's not here.

He's in York or Scarborough
or some other freezing place

plying his fists.

He'd have clobbered them whole.

It's not your fault, Nance.

That rank, lying
fuckster was so plausible,

I took him to my bed.

He's putting us in his list.

If we cross him, he
can write what he likes.

Call us all vile bitches
and pox-ridden sluts.

- Then we fight clever.
- Ah.

But the day that rhyming
prick takes over my house,

you can step on my festering corpse.

They fall before us like dominoes.

Crossed the abyss of St. Martin's Lane

into the kingdom of Soho,
conquering as we went.

What have you done, brother?

I drank a chalice of the purest nectar.

I had Charlotte Wells
and then I wrecked her.

I never lend money to strangers.

We have a gentleman in common.

Mr. Digby Reed.

He told me you were a
legend among London bawds.

You might know of me as Bet Harper.

You ran the best molly-house in Bristol.

And plan to surpass it here.

It's Elizabeth Harvey now.

I heard your house fell and folded,

leaving nothing but a breeze.

We failed before because
we were too visible.

This time we'll hide
behind a modest veil.

Gentlemen's clothing.

My son has talents with
his needle and thread.

Oh, you'll dress men in one room,

undress them in another?

I'll keep my boys in safety

and make us both a pile.

I have 200 in capital.

There's a premises on the market.

I've been watching its decline.

It was a goldmine for a relative of mine

and I covet it.

Not a loan. A share of the deeds.

Where is it?

Hmm.

"Azured vault, Set roaring war..."

"Jove's stout oak..."

"Graves at my command."

Oh, God, please don't let me forget.

"Graves at my command
have waked their sleepers."

You're Prospero.

Why has your family forsaken you?

My father's dead.

The man you saw,

he wed my mother.

And she's never smiled since.

What was your crime?

I found a heaven in the hay

with a boy I'd known since childhood.

I am fallen.

No, angel.

You are bright still.

Isaac was always on show.

Pa used to send him out front

to charm coins out of the drinkers.

He kept me in the back counting them up.

He's roaring into Soho too fast.

He doesn't think.

What can I do?

It's his vigor.

He was the same in the fusiliers.

Always restless for action.

But it's you that holds this together.

Don't let your brother blow it apart.

Isabella, this is most awkward.

When my husband
discovered you were coming,

he asked me to retract the invitation.

Because of the guest
I invited to my salon?

Not only that.

You must be aware.

Have you not read the papers?

They say your ward is your own child.

Born after a liaison with a servant

that your brother had to quash.

It's a lie.

Who's written such slander?

Lady Isabella,

I'd never ask you to leave,

but I'm sure you'll understand.

I have my wife's moral
welfare to think about.

Sophia, let us go.

This is your asp.

Why are we doing this?

They'll just be looking
at our dumplings.

Well, they're sophisticated men.

We have to entertain them.

I knew a girl who could fire
peanuts out of her pipkin.

That was entertaining.

Yes, but this elevates us in their eyes.

I want them to know our caliber.

It's their coins,

not their plays that'll raise us up.

Can you do the peanut trick?

- No.
- Mm-hmm.

Then die, Queen of Egypt.

Mm-hmm.

Give me my robe. Put on my crown.

I have immortal longings.

Supine congress with a servant?

Never believe that libel.

Well, what else can I believe

when you won't tell me who my father is?

Believe you are my beloved
and seek to know no more.

I wouldn't judge you
for loving a servant.

I just want to understand you.

This rag drags the matter up
from where it should lie dead.

It's vicious mischief.

We have an enemy. That much is clear.

Most magnificent strumpets.

You dogs going with them

or are you gonna stay and pimp me?

Christ.

You won't own me in public.

I'm your ward, not your child.

I believe the story's true.

My father's a servant
and you are ashamed.

Fucking idiots.

I can't do any more of them, Nance.

I charge like a
villain, act like a minx,

and still they come.

One cockstand after another.

You're one of the most
talked about women in London.

And you have wealth.

Yes, but I've no taste for it.

The rutting.

What do I do, Nance?

Deep down, even I have a taste for it.

It's the pretence you
cannot brook, I think.

You look for love, as I did.

And that is hard, my girl.

Love?

There's no such thing.

There is.

But my birch keeps all that at bay.

I've saved all my gold.

All I've ever earned.

Do you think I could be a bawd?

I remember
your ma once asked me that.

You'd make a fine bawd.

- As good as Charlotte?
- Mmm.

Where is she?

Why is there no rutting?

This is your last chance

to get your dogs off my door.

My muse.

"Happy the man who Charlotte Wells takes"

to her amorous bosom.

For in this Siren of Soho,

lust and grace are so combined

"as to utterly intoxicate."

That's a public act of lewdness.

This is a bawdy and disorderly house.

- Who's the tavern keeper here?
- This man.

- He's our self-named pimp.
- He's set bullies at our door.

And if I'm not mistaken,

he takes a levy from every girl here.

I'm arresting you under

the bawdy and disorderly
houses act of 1752.

You bring the law down upon me?

We're not as helpless or
as friendless as you think.

That is beneath low.

For a man who
feeds himself on flesh?

Stay away from our house, maggot.

You are to be
detained until such time...

Hal! Hal! This is a merry fucking jest.

The charges against you.

We fired the slingshot and
the pimp Goliath is down.

You got a visitor.

He's looking for a loan.

That's not
what... I need your help.

I never should have done it.

I sent my mother to the madhouse

and I haven't slept since.

Charles, your ma is in the right place.

He's lost Golden Square.
It's up for auction.

Come in with me.

Be my partner.

Why would she go into
business with you, Charles?

You gambled that goldmine away.

Charles, I've just bought this place.

Every penny I have is in these walls.

You owe me your help.

How? Your ma's alive, isn't she?

We spared her from the gibbet.

You're free of her, Charles.

I'm on my way to debtor's jail.

Please.

I-I'm sorry. Y... truly.

I can spare you a few
guineas for your needs.

When is that auction, Charles?

No! No! No!

We shall soon
have your nerves restored

and your lusts conquered.

"Downy windows, close."

And golden Phoebus never be beheld.

"Of eyes again so royal."

Absolutely remarkable.
Who'd have believed it?

These duskies reciting the bard.

Bravo.

Who will have the Egyptian Queen?

Look at her thighs.

- Hmm.
- After you.

Come, kind Charmian.

Let me comfort you in your hour of need.

I shall die here.

- In the dark.
- No, no, no.

Resist from within and
they cannot hurt you.

I cannot bear it.

Imagine a flame burning in here.

Don't let them smother it.

Keep it alive, whatever they do.

Even when you think it's gone to smoke,

find a cinder and
breathe it back to life.

How long have you been here?

Oh, one day bleeds into the next.

Perhaps a year.

I was incarcerated by my son.

Lydia Quigley.

Catherine Bottomley.

Miss Bottomley.

You'll need a new name.

Because my family has disowned me?

Because out there is a city
where your future awaits.

I tell you for true,

you could have London
wrapped around your fingers

like a dazzling string of pearls.

Alas, you are mad.

Mr. Quigley?

I'm one of Charlotte's
girls, Miss Lambert.

I sometimes come here
to visit my friend.

I don't know why I'm here.

That seems as good a reason as any.

I'm a vile wretch.

I've lost everything.

It's a good job your mother's in Bedlam,

otherwise she'd blast you
with a cannon ball, won't she?

What's her name?

It's Kitty.

Hello, Miss Kitty.

Thank you.

Fredo, here's that remarkable girl.

We saw you last night,
tormenting your betters.

- We were dazzled.
- Lucy Wells.

Mrs. Harvey. This is Fredo, my son.

I rise in her east and set in her west.

- Will you bid?
- Will you?

It's a wonderful property.

It's quite perfect.

I hope it ends up in the right hands.

It will.

100. 150.

200. 250.

300. 350.

400.

450.

500.

Why are we bidding against each other?

I want this place.

So do I, but these
puckfists have more money.

- 550.
- We could both get it.

- How?
- Be reckless, join forces.

- Ma.
- I know nothing of you.

575.

The bold decision is often the best.

600.

- I've got 200.
- I can raise 400.

Do I hear 600?

Any advance on 600?

600.

To the ladies.

20 pound fine and the law's
now got us in its sights.

- That bitch is going to pay.
- No, you're gonna pay.

We said we'd start
with the little houses

going slowly, street by street.

We said we'd advance into Soho.

So you swagger into the top house

and think it'll fall in your lap?

You've forgotten your tactics.

We move onto new land
and penetrate the center.

This isn't a battle. We
could have wealth here.

Don't be fucking mad.

Your mistress has cost me sore.

Tell her I'm coming for my money.

You know your mum's a dirty whore

who calls a cunt a cunt?

All righty.

Is this her?

Yes, uh, Lydia Quigley, yes.

Leave us.

Lady Isabella.

How kind of you to come.

There's libel in the press
and I'm sure it hails from you.

- So I've come to warn you.
- Warn me?

With what?

If I could, I would print
my outrage on every page,

but as you can see, I have no pen!

Such dangerous items are kept from us

lest we spear our visitors' eyeballs!

You once labored with my brother

to bring this vile calamity on me.

I did. And here's your bed.

I'll welcome you when you arrive.

You are toothless.

One day I will bite my
way back into the sun.

Give my regards to your
succubus, dear Charlotte.

Tell her I think of her every day.

Get her cleaned and dressed.

And unlock that monstrous shackle.

I want her forced to take my charity.

Make her kiss the ground in thanks.

And never, ever let her go.

She's as dangerous as you say.

Charles. Charles!

Charles!

Hell devour you for what you've done!

Charles!

My beautiful boy.

I-I keep thinking I'm seeing him.

Heaven, don't let me be mad.

Don't let me be mad.
Don't let me be mad!

Please don't let me be mad!

Don't let me be mad!

This will be our emporium.

In here we'll have velvet,

silk, even ribbons for the shoes.

In the upper rooms
it's clandestine sport.

Not with me. I've put
my money in to retire.

I want the least amount of fucks
for the most amount of money.

Miss Wells, I promise you
the greatest entertainment

and the fewest fucks you have ever had.

- You're a molly.
- I'm a genius with a needle.

You've brought me into a molly house.

It's a place of refuge.

Where men like my son can
be themselves in peace.

How does it pay?

It's a hanging offense, so double.

Not again.

You're a sinkhole, Charles.

I've sent enough coins into the depths.

Her time costs, friend.

I've got your next
cull in there, Chadwick.

Unless this one's got gold.

I wanted more for you than this.

Go away!

You threw me out.

Don't come begging for my coinage.

Is my warlord launching an offensive?

Charles Quigley?

He's here!

There he is!

The rage was coming off him like heat.

He won't drop it, Charlotte.

Oh, I don't think him that low.

Bastard!

His men are back.

There'll be no trading here tonight.

Nor any night that you're here.

I want you in my bed.

Be my mistress. Ten pounds a week.

And we could have this
rollicking night and day.

Oh, for 30 a week, did you say?

You jest with me.

If you teach me the art of trade,

I might make do on less.

I've learned reading and arithmetic.

I help run this tavern now.

I want to learn the art of commerce.

Lesson one.

Commerce is the art of war.

My tutelage and 20 pounds a week.

25.

I'll... I'll prepare my
bed, blonde whirlwind.

Charlotte's out.

Cockfighting.

I've come from Bedlam.

She called Charlotte my
succubus, spitting hate.

She's in torment. As I was in her house.

When I was 12 years old.

Why did you go?

There's hateful
gossip in the press.

And you think Quigley wrote it?

I had to be sure she did not.

Now I fear it's my brother.

Or one of his agents.

Where is he?

To my knowledge, in Venice.

Where I hope he drowns.

I'll drink to that.

It's Sophia I feel for.

She believes the lies.

Perhaps I've invited
this censure myself.

How?

By shaking my own reputation.

You have health, fortune,

a child who loves you.

Your reputation is a burden.

I have none.

And I'm free as a crow.

If I were you, I'd
own my scandal proudly.

Pour one for yourself.

And what would your mother say?

Come on.

Join us.

Yes.

We're like magnets, Miss Wells.

You cannot keep away.

I've gathered
near every bawd in Soho.

You cannot trick and threaten us all,

not now your methods are known.

To show my intention,

I've started a list to rival yours.

First entry, Isaac,
Cock of Villiers Street.

Beady eyes, darting hands,
and sinews made for love.

His wattles are like ripest plums,

and his breath lingers,
hot as melting cheese.

Dirty boy!

But a lady
should look to her pockets,

for this magnet of a man, in
spite of his poetic tongue,

is a thief of the lowest order.

We'll do business as we always have.

With bawds at the helm.

Pincher girls,
come join your sisters

for a drink at the Boar's Head.

Can't believe you took
on Charlotte Wells.

You'll never win.

Tell your drab to button it.

Why don't you leave off picking on women

and look for better
ways to expand your cash?

Don't talk to him like that.

I'm going to my new keeper's.

- That girl is strife.
- You've stirred this strife.

Not Emily.

Should I go around Charlotte
Wells with a posy to say sorry?

It's too late for that.

She's inciting mutiny among our girls.

So do what you like, but end it.

That fine
lady was afraid of you.

I once held her future in my palm.

How?

I was arrogant, self-righteous,

ruthless.

I took gold for keeping secrets.

I've hardly been out of my village.

I know nothing of the world.

I fear I'll never see it.

Tell me your story.

I was the High Priestess of bawds.

And my girls were like... princesses.

We're drinking. Join us?

Perfectly happy by myself.

Have you eaten?

I'm stuffed full of roast.

Don't be offended, will you?

Lucy Wells!

What have you done?

I didn't have enough for the full sale

so I was resourceful.

We all have one third each,
but she doesn't know about you.

The last Wells girl in Golden Square

threw her bawd into Bedlam.

Lucy Wells is the girl of the hour.

And another layer to our gossamer veil.

Don't fret. She's
easily played, I'm sure.

Lady Isabella,
this is a gentleman's club.

Your presence will cause scandal.

I have a daughter born out of wedlock.

If that's a scandal, then I own it.

For her love is my greatest blessing.

I hope that's printed
in tomorrow's press.

For neither she nor I will
bow our heads to your censure.

This is unfitting.

I strongly suggest you leave.

Lord Leadsom.

I see your wife's moral welfare
is ever in your thoughts.

Mmm, good girl. Good girl.

You should go home.

You could have had all this freely.

This trade turns us into rats.

I mean it.

Fly away home.

You know what it is to be reckless.

I am a part owner of a molly house.

Lucy, those places end in a noose.

It's a daring adventure,
though, isn't it?

Come on. It's all right.

Here, good girl.

Help!

Help!

Charlotte!

Nancy!

Kitty! No!

Kitty!

Come.

Nancy, we're here!

Nancy!

Take the child. I can't breathe.

Call the warden! Fire!

Kitty!

- It's okay, I've got you.
- Is she safe?

Nancy's inside.

Nancy!

Help me carry her, Luce.

Your house. And your money.

Quick, before it's too late!

Let it burn.

These houses, let them all burn.

How far from London can I get?

Be it now or months from hence,

I swear I'll get you out.

Must I be a harlot?

If that is your choice.

And if it is,

I'll take you to where I long to be.

My most beloved home in Golden Square.

- Synced and corrected by Firefly -
- www.addic7ed.com -