All language subtitles for The.Luminaries.S01E01.1080p.NF.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.x264-TEPES.English

Hey! Hey!

Miss Wetherell.
Everything that's happened.

Who is she?

I don't know.

Madam.

Madam.

Who is this?

Who are you?

Mr Lauderback, there's a body.

Anna. Anna.

Anna.

Can you believe it?

They're proper magic,
incredible good luck,

so long as you don't shoot one dead
with a crossbow.

What would happen?

If you killed an albatross, well...

the wind would drop,

the sun would burn hotter and hotter,

and then two spirits would rise up
from the deep, Death and Living Nightmare.

They'd play dice right here on the deck

and whoever won the game
would claim your soul.

I don't have a crossbow.

Well, thank heavens, nor do I.

Mr Emery Staines.

Miss Anna Wetherell.

Was this your first sea voyage?

-Yes.
-Mine too.

It wasn't at all what I expected.

I always imagined,
once we were out at sea,

that the horizon
would form a circle around the ship.

-But it wasn't that at all.
-It was a square.

Yes, it was a square.

It had corners.

Astonishing.

-We should introduce ourselves.
-We just did.

Well, yes, but we hardly
know anything about each other.

I know you can recognise an albatross.

I know you're bound for New Zealand,
probably to dig for gold... same as me.

And I know that your bunk
must be in the forward cabin,

because we haven't met before.

And I know that recently
you lost a button off your vest.

All right. Here's what I know about you.

-You're an early riser.
-I'm really not.

Today is an exception.

I do believe it is.

Actually, it's my birthday.

A birthday present...

for your vest.

You spoilt your sleeve.

I can roll them up.

Forgive me, Miss Wetherell,
are you engaged this evening?

Might I call on you at your hotel?

I'm sorry. That was too forward.

Could I come to you?

Why not? Uh, what's the name of my hotel?

Oi, Staines!

Get over here.

Right.

Shall we say 7:00
in the dining room, if there is one?

Seven o'clock.

Where's the hospital?

Uh...

There isn't one.

I found her like this, drunk.
I don't know who she is.

It's not drink... It's opium.

She's a prostitute,
in case you couldn't tell.

You're Alistair Lauderback.

We don't see
too many politicos around here.

Been reading your campaign pledges
with interest, Mr Lauderback.

Roads, railways, tunnels, ditches.

Bring her to the jail.

Something the matter?

I'm afraid there's something else.

Next!

Um, thank you.

Hey!

I thought they'd called my name,
but they hadn't.

- I'm sorry.
- Next!

Travelling alone?

Yes.

Unmarried?

Is that a problem?

Not for me.

Sign here, please.

That's one shilling. Thank you.

Welcome to the New World.

Fresh meat, fresh meat!

Three shillings an acre.

Buy your own personal piece of paradise.

Everyone a paying goldfield.

Tickets covered, all expenses paid.

Come try your luck
on a company claim. Yes.

Madam, three shillings an acre.
Buy your own personal piece of paradise.

No, not interested?

- Three shillings an acre!
- Everyone a paying goldfield.

Tickets covered, all expenses paid.
Try your luck on a company claim.

- How old is the map?
- This map, sir, is brand new

and I guarantee that.
You, sir, where you want to go?

-Mount Ida goldfield is where I recommend.
-Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Stop! Thief!

Stop! Hey! Somebody stop him!

Drop it. Drop it!

-That's mine!
-Drop it!

I don't know how to thank you.

Women in this country
are outnumbered a dozen to one.

We must stick together. Mrs Lydia Wells.

Miss Anna Wetherell.

I just arrived.

-From?
-London.

-On your own?
-Yes, ma'am.

Sent for or sent away?

I sent myself.

What is your birthday?

The day you were born, do you know it?

Why do you ask?

I ask everyone I meet.

Actually, it's-- It's today.

Is it?

Today?

Walk with me.

So, Miss Anna Wetherell,

how will you make your living
here at the end of the world?

I thought I'd try digging for gold.

A fine ambition.

But you know the real money in a gold rush
isn't made on the diggings,

it's made in town.

I myself operate a fortune parlour,
the House of Many Wishes is the name.

I open every night at 10:00.

Cards before midnight,
fortunes in the witching hour.

And then, depending on the company,
a little traffic with the dead.

Can you truly tell fortunes?

I can.

How?

Hmm.

When I'm asked,
"Can you truly tell fortunes?"

the second question is usually,
"Will you tell mine?"

You have a head for business.

You must call on me,
Miss Wetherell, this evening.

I insist.

I shall cast your natal chart,
find out what makes you tick.

I beg your pardon, I can't this evening.

I have a rendezvous,
someone I met on board.

I'm to meet at his hotel for supper.

You can't read.

What does it say?

The Matterhorn Hotel, Cumberland Street.

"Matterhorn."

Do you know it?

Very well, I live just next door.

What a happy accident this was.

-Oop, sorry.
-Yes. Very good.

I just want you to know
that if I make my fortune and you don't,

you can bugger off
'cause it's finders keepers.

Cocky bastard.

Mine's bigger than yours...
and it has a better view.

Right.
I need a dish, a swag and a map.

Make way!

Make way!

Make way!

Lucky bugger.

We have 32 ounces.

That's nearly £100!

- Lucky bugger.
- I shall now test for purity.

Oh, my!

The gold is pure.

Like magic.

Now change it bloody back again!

Don't breathe in.

I went to every ship in town.

No one would touch me
as soon as they hear my name.

Give it time.

What if we just left?

Could sell up. Start over somewhere new.

You know I can't do that, Francis.

A convict, Lydia, that's all they see.

Here.

-Don't.
-It's not a gift.

It's payment in advance.

I need you to get rid of someone.

Pay every night in advance.

You get sick, you get lice,
you make trouble, you're out.

No liquor, no noise, no men. You hear?

Sixpence for the night.

My purse! It's gone!

If you can't pay, you can't stay.

-I don't do a charity.
-I had it at customs. I--

-That boy, he must've...
-Go on. Move.

She's been charged with vagrancy,
public intoxication and attempted suicide.

How can you prove that?

She's a whore. I don't have to.

Let's go.

You have a body in there?
Do you understand? Do you speak English?

I understand you.

Take off your hat.

Did you see him die?

No... I didn't see.

The girl, she was here with the body?

Right outside. She fainted right here.

What about him?

Outside.

Do you know his name?

Staines. No.
No one here with the name Staines.

I'm quite early maybe. I'll wait for him.

Miss.

No, thank you.

Look. You got to order something.

Either you're buying,
or you got something to sell.

What's that?

-Do you recognise him?
-No.

Nor do I, but if this is murder,
this gets us everything we need.

Proper funding, an asylum, a bloody chapel
if you want it. This is it.

Let's bring him in.

-Not you.
-I will not leave him.

It's a native custom, sir,
to keep a vigil over a body.

He is my brother.

Your brother?

I will not leave him.

They believe the soul remains
in the body until it's buried.

It's only superstition.
Sir, I'm sure it's harmless.

Governor, for heaven's sake.

If you come within 50 yards of this body
before it's in the ground,

I will shoot you dead on sight,
so help me God. Off you go.

Fifty yards. Start counting.

Was that really necessary?

On the bench.

Mr Lauderback. Reverend.

Hate to see a man
without a drink in his hand.

Thank you.

Girl didn't show?

I suppose I must look very foolish.

Hmm. Well, I'm not one to judge.

I've been waiting
on the same woman 15 years.

-She married someone else.
-Oh, I'm sorry.

Picked my pocket, that was how we met.

She was leaning in to pin a flower
to my lapel.

I didn't even feel it.
You know what she took?

-Your wallet?
-My astrolabe.

Not to sell, to use, and she did.

She bloody learned to read it.

By the time I caught up with her,

she knew the name
of every star in the sky.

-You a sailor?
-No.

Sailors got a rule about redheads:

You've got to speak to them
before they speak to you.

It's bad luck otherwise.

That was my mistake.

Your good health and happiness.

And yours.

Francis Carver.

Emery Staines.

How many times have I told you?
Look at the state of this...

Well, here's a ship come in.

Good evening.

Good evening to you.

I'm looking for Mrs Lydia Wells.

Better and better.

Wet your whistle?

Dick Mannering's my name.

-Are you--
-Her landlord.

Just here collecting the rent.

What happened?

Who are you, the police?

Miss Wetherell!

Mrs Wells, you have outdone yourself.

There.

-What are you doing?
-I'm just waiting to be introduced.

Miss Anna Wetherell, Mr Richard Mannering.

Mr Mannering speculates on property,
Miss Wetherell.

He's one of my investors,
and he knows how to see himself out.

I'd raise my hat to you, ma'am,
but I lost it today on a very bad bet.

Mrs Wells.

Let's go upstairs.

You're off to the diggings?

Yes, sir. So I hope.

Hmm. Hokitika's where the money's at,
West Coast.

Lawrence was the name I heard.

Sure, if you were here three years ago.

Hokitika's where you want to be,

other side of the island,
new field, totally untouched.

-You've been there?
-No. Not interested.

Not interested in a gold rush?

Leaves too much to chance,
and it takes too long.

First robbed and then betrayed,
and on your birthday. It's too awful.

I'm sure there's an explanation.

Well, you've been dealt
two ugly blows today, Miss Wetherell,

I shan't allow you to be dealt a third.

You must stay here with me.

You're very kind.

My husband's room is empty.
You may sleep there.

Is your husband...

Prospecting until the winter.

May I ask you something?

Of course.

You asked about my birthday.

Yes.

What does it mean
if you share a birthday with someone else?

Hardly anything at all. It's very common.

You see,
it's not just the day that matters.

The year, the hour, the minute,

even the horizon
all have their part to play.

Something must have happened to her,
something she couldn't help.

It's the frontier.

She gets a better offer,
she's gonna take it.

No, she wouldn't do that.

-I thought you only met her once.
-Yes, but...

There was a kind of magic between us,
something absolute.

No, I can't do another. Forgive me.

No, you never turn down a drink
after it's been poured.

-More bad luck?
-No, bad manners.

To a kind of magic.

Of course,
there is one circumstance.

It's very rare,
the stuff of legend, really.

I've only read of it in books.

But, if two people were to be
born at the exact same instant

and very near to one another,
they would become what's known

as Astral Twins.

Their natal charts would be identical,
so their fates would be one and the same.

They would share a destiny.

Let me show you something.

The first thing to understand
about the sky is that it's always moving.

I cast this chart at sunrise this morning.
But now...

...we're here.

The sun has just set,
Venus has just risen and the moon is new.

Look up this minute,
and this is what you'll see.

This exact configuration of stars,
planets and horizon,

seen at this time, on this day,
from this place on Earth.

This pattern has never existed before
and it never will again.

It's like a kind of cosmic fingerprint.

Look up at this time tomorrow,

and the sun will have set
a little earlier,

the moon
will be a little higher in the sky,

a different star
will be crossing the horizon,

and all the angles will have changed.

Now you, Anna Wetherell,
are also absolutely singular.

Who you are is here and now, in this room,
in this body and nowhere else.

And just like the sky,
you too are always changing.

By this time tomorrow,
you'll be a slightly different person,

and you'll see a slightly different sky.

As above, so below.

Which brings us to our second lesson,

every person reads a pattern
in a different way.

There's no right or wrong, no good or bad.

There's just what you see,
and what you miss.

So, how do you tell the future?

I'm afraid no one in the world
has the power to do that.

Fate, Miss Wetherell,
is not a matter of what's going to happen,

it's a matter of what's meant to happen.

If I can convince you
that a certain path is destined for you

then that's the path you will choose.
It's very simple.

But that's not fate.

I beg your pardon?

That's just you.

The diggings are deadly in the winter.

Stay here until the spring.

Two shillings a night plus room and board.

What do you say?

Well, goodnight, Mr Carver.
Thank you for the company.

-Where are you going?
-To find Miss Wetherell, of course.

-I'll come with you.
-Ah, thank you. There's no need.

No trouble,
your first night in a new place.

I never told you that.

Told me what?

That I arrived today.

You didn't have to.
It's written all over you.

Hmm. Well, goodnight.

-Let's have another round.
-No, I don't need it.

No, I've got something to show you. Yeah?

It's a contract of sponsorship.

Common arrangement.
You see it all the time.

The sponsor, me,
buys your ticket to the goldfield,

your licence, your swag
and tent and dish, everything you need,

and keeps you fed and watered
while you're over there.

In return, whatever you make,
you split down the middle with me.

I saw you and I thought I'd take a punt.

Well, I'm not interested.

I said no Chinese. Get out.

Francis Carver.

Speak English, you mongrel!

Get him!

Who was that?

Show's over.

Get out of here.

Go on!

Thirty minutes
before we open house.

Just time enough for a cup of tea.

I know where my purse is.

And where is that?

I went for a swim.
I must have left it on the beach.

Ah.

I'll go back for it in the morning.

Hmm.

Shall I make the tea?

Would you?

Miss Anna Wetherell.

Mrs Pennington's Boarding House,
MacAndrew Street.

Yeah.

Thank you.

Ladies only.

I'm looking for one of your guests,
a Miss Wetherell. Anna Wetherell.

She's not here.

We made a plan to meet earlier,
but she didn't show.

I just want to make sure she's safe.

She's not here.

I know it's late,
but I'm sure she'd receive me,

if you could just ask?

She didn't stay.

Out. Out!

-I'll put a smile on your face.
-No, thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

-You looking for someone?
-Uh, no.

Well, I can get you anything you want.

- Forgive me.
- You want someone else?

Uh, forgive me.

You tell me what you want.
Anything you want, I can find it!

-You looking for someone?
-No.

Who's winning?

Drink?

Would you like a second?

Where on Earth
did you find this one, Mrs Wells?

To the contrary, I assure you.
Miss Wetherell found me.

Would you gentlemen like a drink?

Can I see his face?

You can tell me how he died...

or shall we wait for the autopsy?

I didn't kill him.

What were you doing there?

Where?

Do you know the penalty for murder,
Miss Wetherell?

You hang from the neck until dead.

Dear God!

Who is this?

His name, apparently, is Crosbie Wells.

Crosbie Wells?

Who is Crosbie Wells?

Quite.

Miss Wetherell, who is he?

Miss Wetherell, of course...

I'm breaking the contract.
I'm breaking the contract.

He's dead?

Let me see his face.

Please. Let me see his face.

That'll do, Reverend.

Good afternoon. I am Gascoigne.

I represent the Magistrate's Court.

I am authorised to collect bail
and schedule your arraignment.

The universal rate of bail is £1.

For those of you who wish to pay in pure,

the converted rate
is one third of an ounce.

However, we do reserve the right
to examine for impurity.

Miss Wetherell?

What happened?

I don't remember.

Who is Crosbie Wells?

-Where did you get this?
-Shh.

It's everywhere.

It's in every seam.

Take it.

-Is there a problem, Mr Gascoigne?
-You have to take it.

You have to take it.

-You have to.
-Mr Gascoigne?

Miss Wetherell...

is hereby released on bail.

Miss Wetherell! You'd better come with me.

Take this. It belonged to my wife.

It's black.

She was consumptive.
It was to hide the blood.

Gentlemen.

Give it to me.

-How much is there?
-I don't know.

Let me.

I've got a job for you.

Six feet, or as far down as you can go.

Were you his brother or not?

A man is dead, possibly murdered,
and you saw nothing?

The middle of nowhere,
middle of the night,

a politician, a savage and a whore.

Sounds like a riddle, doesn't it?

The beginning of a joke.

I've never seen this gold before.
I promise you.

Anna, what happened last night?

Anna, please.

I went to work.

And then?

I woke up.

Late.

I felt... strange.

Like I wasn't myself.

No, it was more than that.
I felt-- I felt...

I felt like I'd become someone else.

Oh, I believe in good luck.

I just don't believe in bad luck.

So sorry.

That's the opium talking.

But that's the thing.
I didn't take any last night.

I didn't even touch it.

-Why are you lying to me?
-I'm not.

You were unconscious.
I can smell it on you now,

-for heaven's sake.
-I'm telling you the truth!

Well, who is Crosbie Wells?

I didn't kill him.

Miss Wetherell?

Come play the wheel of fortune.

Sam?

- How does it work?
- How do you think?

You spin it.

Who is that?

That is my husband.

Crosbie Wells.