All language subtitles for Banished S01E05.eng

Out of your stinking pits,
you ugly, miserable scrotes.

Out of your pits, right...

Are you listening?
It is time to work.

~ Out of those pits, right now.
~ Sorry to mention such a word
as this, but it is that time.

~ Out of those pits, you miserable bastards...
~ If we have to drag you
out by your hair we will.

~ Up and out of your bunks, right now!
~ It'll get you 50 lashes.

Out of those pits, right now!

Are you flesh and blood?

~ Yes.
~ They did not hang you?

Too pretty.

Tommy Barrett's digging your grave.

Where are you going?

To tell him it will not be needed.

No?

~ You are not dead?
~ No. Disappointed?

Pleased. As a matter of fact.

Oh. Really?

~ Why did they not hang you?
~ No idea.

~ (Oh, James!)
~ What?

You are a dead man.

Who is that for?

It took Jesus three days,
Tommy. I did it in one.

He let me go.

Did he flog you?

No.

Did he add a year or
two to your sentence?

No.

He just let you go?

Yes.

~ I gave you my food.
~ Yes.

I need it back.

Oh, James.

What?

You have turned informer.

I have not.

~ I can explain.
~ You can explain it tonight.

To us all.

~ Finish it yourself.
~ It is no longer needed.

Finish it.

~ He's alive!
~ I know.

~ Where are you going?
~ The jail.

~ He's not in the jail.
~ What?

~ He's free.
~ How?
~ You tell me.

Not flogged, nothing added to
his sentence - he is just free.

~ How do you know this?
~ I have just spoken to him.

Where?

I left him digging a grave.

His grave.

No, Tommy. James Freeman would
not turn informer. He would not.

~ You know?
~ Mm-hm.

Yes.

~ We have to get rid of him.
~ There will be an explanation for this.

~ A perfectly valid explanation.
~ Shall I do it?

I told him to explain it
to all of us. In the hut.

You had no right to tell him that.

~ If you touch something hot.
~ Yes?

~ You pull your hand away.
~ Mm.

Hand.

~ H-A-N-D.
~ Yes.

And that is exactly what is happening
to all the bits of metal that make up...

Metal?

~ A-L. M-E-T-A-L. Metal.
~ (Metal.)

So, all the tiny bits of metal
make up this big piece of metal...

Yes?

I, er, I want you to make me a knife.

~ A knife?
~ Yeah. Right now, please.

I cannot make knives. I repair
things, that is all.

You can make a better
knife than I ever could.

What will you do with it?

Cut James Freeman's throat.

~ I will not do it.
~ He has turned informer.

I will not do it.

Spragg...

The Governor's promised me
a reduction in my sentence.

I can be at home with the woman
I love in a few years' time.

~ I will do nothing to jeopardise that.
~ How will it jeopardise it, ey?

I will tell no-one where
I got this knife from.

They'll know it was
made here, Spragg.

Where else could it be made but here?

I will not do it. Sorry.

I cannot help you.

N-I-F-E.

~ Knife.
~ Yes!

No. There's a "K".

~ A "K"?
~ Yes, at the start. K-N-I-F-E.

Seriously.

No, seriously.

K-nife.

~ Yes!
~ Walk.
~ Yes!
~ Walk, man!

Yes.

~ Walk, man! Walk!
~ Yes, yes.

Ah!

Ah! A snake!

~ A snake has just bitten me.
~ Walk!

Walk to him.

Help! Please, can you help me?

Please, help me. Please,
can you help me? Please...

Help me, PLEASE!

Please...

How many times have I
warned you about that?

~ Running in this bloody country.
~ I shot it, Sir.

Running in grass like
this, you bloody fool!

I got your dinner for you, Sir.

~ He is dead.
~ Oh, poor boy!

~ Is your husband in?
~ I will get him.

Snake.

~ I am so, so sorry.
~ Thank you.

In the name of the Father, the
Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

We beg thee, dear Lord, to forgive
those sins he committed.

By way of his mouth - any profanities
uttered, any lies, any heresy.

We beg thee, dear Lord, to forgive
those sins he committed

by way of his hands.

Any violence...

One book - common prayer.

Four letters home.

One set of rosary beads.

~ You wanted me?
~ Yes. Private Michael Mulrooney is dead -

~ a snake-bite.
~ I am sorry to hear that, boss.

You write letters for people?

~ Yes, boss?
~ You can be...

~ inventive?
~ Yes, boss.

Will you write one for me - to Private
Michael Mulrooney's parents?

About how he died in battle, boss?

~ Yes.
~ Yes, boss.

Thank you.

Letters...

~ I read your file.
~ Did you, boss?

It says, you stole from a
widow and three children.

Yes, boss.

It is true?

I did it to feed my
own children, boss.

Do you have children?

Yes.

What would you do for them?

I would sacrifice my life for them.

Of course.

But would you sacrifice
your reputation?

Respect? Honour?

I would.

I did, boss.

Line-up everyone! Keep moving!

Bring your tools! Move!

Move!

You want to witness this?

No.

Guard the door then.

You would do this to me?

You think so little of our
friendship, you would drown me?

And you, Elizabeth? You would watch?

What will it achieve?

You duck a man, he says
what you want him to say.

So, tell me what you want me
to say and I will say it now

and spare us all this shite.

~ You are an informer.
~ I am an informer?

I am not.

But if that is what you need
to hear, then so be it -

I am an informer.

Say it. Say it and mean it.

I cannot.

Why did he let you off?

~ He did not.
~ You are alive - so he let you off.

He marched me to the scaffold with the
vicar chanting a dead man's prayer.

They stood me on the trap door.
They bound my hands and feet.

They put a hood over my head, a noose
around my neck and bade me goodbye.

And let me tell you -
that is not letting off.

That is the cruellest thing
you can do to a man.

Perhaps.

But we would see it as a letting
off, so why would he do that?

~ I do not know.
~ What did he say?

~ Nothing.
~ Nothing?
~ Nothing I remember.
~ Nothing?

He took the hood off
your head, presumably?

~ Yes.
~ Yeah.

The rope from round your neck?

Yes.

Freed your hands and feet?

~ Yes.
~ So, in all that time - what did he say?

What explanation did he give
for tricking you in that way?

I do not remember.

You do not remember because there
is no possible explanation

apart from this - you did a deal!

I do not remember because
I was a dead man

and the next second
- I was alive again.

No man would remember anything
in those circumstances.

Why do you think he let you live?

Why? Why?

Because I did not deserve to hang!

~ The blacksmith was stealing
my food, starving me to death.
~ He knew that.

~ What I did - I did in self-defence.
~ HE KNEW THAT.
~ Now, you can't hang a man
who kills in self-defence!

He knew all that and still
sentenced you to hang.

He faced us all - convicts
and soldiers -

and said you would hang when the
blacksmith's body was found -

but you have not hanged. So, now
he appears weak. Why is that?

Why, why is he prepared
to appear weak?

~ What have you offered him in exchange?
~ Nothing.

~ You have turned informer.
~ I have not.

And what could I tell him anyway?

That we are all fed up. All hungry.
All dreaming of escape.

I doubt that would be a revelation.

I will swear on the Bible.

I will swear on a stack of bibles.

I am no informer.

If I am an informer - may God
strike me dead right now!

The only information I have
that could be of any interest

to the governor is this...

We three killed the blacksmith.

I did not act alone.

If I am an informer - why
have I not told him that?

Hmm?

Why are you two still free?

I am no informer.

Then why did you not hang?

I do not know!

Do not take us for idiots, James.

If there is anyone here who
can offer me any explanation

as to why this man is still
alive - let him do so now.

Anyone?

Anyone?

Hey? Hey?

You have the gift of the gab, James,
but that is not going to do

you any good this time - because we
do not want "gab" - we want truth.

HAVE YOU TURNED INFORMER?

No.

If there is any alternative,
tell me it now.

DO NOT LOOK AT ME, tell
me what else I can do!

Anyone?

ANYONE?

If I duck you for a third time,
James, I will hold you under

until you are dead
- so tell me it now.

Tell me you are an informer. Tell
me it now and you will live.

You have had a rope around your neck.

A man will agree to anything
with a rope around his neck.

We know that and we
sympathise. You understand?

If you come clean with
us, we will not harm you.

If you do not come clean with
us - you will die. Here and now.

Do you understand, hey?
Do you understand?

Are you an informer? Hmm?

If you make us kill you now,

it is I who will have to do it.

Do not do that to me, James, please.

Are you an informer?

NO!

Tommy.

Tommy.

Tommy!

TOMMY!

Are you an informer?

Are you an informer? Are you
an informer? Are you informer?

YES!

Kill him!

I gave him my word.

You do not have to
stay true to your word

when you're dealing with an informer.

~ When a man informs on another
man - he loses all respect.
~ We can use this.

~ Just, just kill him will you?!
~ We can use this. Surely we can use it!

Why no vote?

All of this.

All of this and no vote?

We would all have done
what this man has done.

So, I demand we vote.

Get out.

Get out now!

Get out while we vote. Get out NOW!

Go on! Get out!

Who wants him dead?

Present!

Fire!

On the day we landed,

I promised that I would get
you all home safe and sound.

All of you. I have
broken that promise.

In my defence, I envisaged a threat
coming from the convicts -

rebelling, perhaps. Or
the natives attacking.

I did not envisage
- could not envisage -

a soldier dying because
he was hungry.

A soldier forgetting everything
he had been taught

because ahead of him lay food
and he was so, so hungry.

Do you wish to add
anything, Governor?

We are at the grave
of a young soldier.

Little wonder emotions run high.

Soldiers have gone hungry before.

They've gone thirsty.

They have been hot.
They have been cold.

And yet, they have maintained
their discipline.

This young man did not -

and that is why he lies here.

We will cook the animal he shot

and you may all have a piece of
it tonight in memory of Michael.

Meanwhile, every convict must know
that Michael died of snakebite.

The bush must terrify them
as much as the ocean.

And thus, Michael's death will
make our lives a little easier.

Dismissed.

~ Shoulder arms. Left Turn.
~ Dismissed.

Where is Katherine?

I have no idea, Sir.

She will be sad to hear
about Private Mulrooney.

~ Really, Sir?
~ She saw a lot of him.

Every time she came
to my tent, in fact.

Of course, Sir.

When you see her, will you...

.. will you give her this? From me.

~ Does it have any significance, Sir?
~ Of course.

Oh.

~ Sir?
~ She has not told you?

Told me what?

Sir.

Sir.

The story of the statue
of the Virgin.

No, sir.

Well, perhaps she will one day.

~ How can he be an informer
when everyone knows...
~ We have voted!

~ ..he is an informer? What
are we likely to tell him?
~ We have voted!
~ I know both these men.

I know the man to be killed and
I know the man who will kill him

and I love them both - and I will
be heard - and you can stick your
"We have voted" up your arse!

You voted to kill him, Anne.

And yet this all started because
he tried to help you.

The Blacksmith stole your food and
no-one lifted a finger apart from
James Freeman. He proved himself

~ more of a man...
~ You were not there.
~ .. than any man here.
More of a man than my...

~ You were not there.
~ IS IT NOT TRUE?

He proved himself more of a man
than my Tommy, even. So why, Anne?

Why vote to kill a man who helped
you when you most needed it?

Why, Anne? When one
vote means so much?

I am Irish and...

.. he is an informer.

James Freeman has shown remarkable
courage in standing up to a bully...

.. and understandable
fear on that scaffold.

Let one cancel out the other, Anne.

Let him live!

A lot of them wanted you dead, James.

~ Will you tell the governor only
what we tell you to tell him?
~ Yes.

And nothing else?

He is no fool.

He will realise what you are up to.

When that happens -

you must tell us everything.

~ Yes.
~ You will hold nothing back from us.

~ Nothing at all.
~ Nothing.

Then you may live, James.

Um, I got some tobacco, Tommy.

For turning informer.

Nah, mate. But we can
turn this into rum.

The soldiers are gambling tonight.
They will deal us in for this.

Poker?

We should get pissed.

The three of us rat-arsed again.

I have brought you something.

Tell me what you want to know?

Everything that might help me.

There are not just the living
and the dead, Mrs Johnson.

There is the world of the unborn.

Millions of souls waiting millions of years
to pass on to the Kingdom of Heaven.

To them - to the unborn
- this life is nothing.

It is a river they must cross
to reach the other side,

to reach the Kingdom of Heaven.

So, they want this life - this river
- to be as short as possible.

To the unborn - a woman
like you is heaven-sent.

You give birth to them
- they die within minutes.

And before they know it - they
are with the angels in Heaven.

For the unborn, you are the
ideal mother, Mrs Johnson

and your children are
eternally grateful.

Do not grieve or blame
yourself in any way.

Instead, Mrs Johnson - rejoice.

Is that not comforting?

Yes.

But it is heresy, Anne.

To say the earth is
round was heresy once.

You say I will...

.. give birth to a healthy child?

One who thrives?

Yes.

How can I rejoice in
both? A child who dies

and a child who thrives?

The child who thrives will be
happy with you as his mother.

The child who dies will be happy to
get to the Kingdom of Heaven so soon.

A woman who believes this -

and I promise you it is the
absolute truth, Mrs Johnson -

a woman who believes this will
never know sadness again.

Do you believe me?

Oh, I want to, Anne.

Why put your faith in a convict?

Some cruel and manipulating
charlatan preying on your loss

and vulnerability?

Cynically telling you what
you want to hear in the hope

she may reap some reward?

But I have proven I want
nothing in return.

Last time...

~ .. you said you felt my children's presence.
~ Yes.

Do you feel it now?

Yes.

What are they doing?

Watching over you.

It's so strange -

we want big, strong sons to
protect us when we are old.

But the dead can protect
us even more.

Thank you.

This has all been confidential. Yes?

~ Yes.
~ What I am about to ask you,
can that be confidential, too?

Of course.

Does your husband have a gun?

A gun? No, of course not. Why?

The governor will have
to cut rations again soon.

When he does there will be mayhem.

You should be safe - for we will
respect a man of God - but...

.. a man of God with a gun
- we will respect even more.

Thank you.

Where have you been?

The bush.

~ The bush?
~ Yes, but I cheated.

Kept close to the edge.

Made sure I could see the
sky and hear the sea.

Sums me up, I'm afraid.

There is no ship coming, Deborah.

There will be no rescue -

so you choose.

Do we break open the store
and let them all eat

to their hearts' content
and then watch them die?

Or do we eke it out over months...

.. and only then watch them die?

Die sooner or die later? You choose.

You will do what has
to be done, Governor.

As always.

I have nothing but respect
and admiration for you.

Thank you.

Will we make love again tonight?

Yes.

"Our souls will never die."

No.

Suppose it is more than that.

It is not just "Our souls
will never die" but...

.."our souls have always lived".

They did not need to
be born as we were born.

They were always there just

waiting for a body to inhabit.

~ Yes?
~ Would that be heresy?

Have you been speaking to someone?

~ Thank you.
~ I am sorry?

~ I have said something interesting, therefore
I must have heard it from someone else.
~ I am sorry.

I do not think it
would be heresy, no.

Are you sure?

I'm fairly sure.

Because that is what I
am beginning to believe.

Anything else?

Yes...

I think you should ask
the governor for a gun.

Mary.

What?

~ You have been speaking to someone.
~ I have not.
~ You have, that is so unlike you.

You know that God himself will protect
us. We have no need of guns.

~ And to whom have you been speaking?
~ No-one.

~ You said we would make love.
~ I've changed my mind!

The Major is looking for you.

I know.

He asked me to give you something.

What?

You do not know?

No. What is it?

You tell me.

Is it yours?

~ Then why is he giving it to you?
~ I have no idea.

It must have some significance. Why
else would he want you to have it?

He mentioned a story.

~ Did he?
~ Yes.

~ You told him a story?
~ Yes.

~ When?
~ The last time we were together.

You said you did not speak to him.

I lied.

~ Why?
~ I do not know.

What story was it?

~ Just a story - a stupid story.
~ Tell me!

When I was a girl, I used to pray to
the statue of the Virgin Mary in church.

She seemed to wobble.

The more sincere the prayer -
the more she seemed to wobble.

Why did you tell him?

Because he told me the story
of when he was a boy.

~ I-I didn't know what else to say.
~ Why have you not told me this story?

Because...

Because what? Did you
think I would mock you?

~ I do not know, perhaps.
~ Perhaps?

So, the major is more understanding,

~ more sympathetic, more
sensitive than I, is that it?
~ No.

Please do not be upset. Can you not see
that that is exactly what he wants?

Intimate chats, exchanging
of gifts, what's next?

Falling in love with him?

Or have you already?

Of course not. I love you.

Nobody else.

I risked my life for you.

I know.

He could have had me shot.

You think you have to tell me that?

I got into his bed to save
you from being shot!

It happened on the 9th of
June, Mr and Mrs Mulrooney.

Michael and four other marines
were camped in Kookaburra Creek

when they were surrounded by
natives armed with spears.

The only way out was upwards,
but that meant turning your back

on the natives in order
to climb the rock face.

So, one soldier climbed, while the
other four held off the natives.

Then a second soldier climbed, while
the other three held them off.

Then a third soldier climbed, while
the other two held them off.

That left only two soldiers on
the ground and for one of them

it was certain death.

Because the last soldier
to climb would have nobody

holding off the natives.

Mr and Mrs Mulrooney,

your son Michael demanded
to be that last soldier.

He gave his life so that
another man might live.

I know Michael wanted to
test himself in battle,

we spoke about it often.

How sad, then, that his first
battle - his first test -

should be his last.

But how glorious that he should
pass it with flying colours.

Mr and Mrs Mulrooney,

I have never known anyone so brave.

Yours sincerely...

And then your signature there, boss.

How did you know that
we talked about it?

~ Hm?
~ About testing himself in battle?

I guessed it.

~ Shall I, shall I leave it there, boss?
~ Yes.

What is your name, again?

Letters Molloy, boss.

I owe you a favour, Letters Molloy.

I'm in.

Me to bet.

One shell.

What do you want?

Rum.

You're not getting any.

We thought you might deal us
in and we can you play for it.

Think again. All in.

You are bluffing.

~ We have tobacco.
~ And I will call that bluff.

How did you know we
were playing here?

Everyone knows.

I'll call it, too.

Run.

Watch and weep.

Tobacco?

~ Yes.
~ How much?

~ Quarter of an ounce.
~ Show me.

That's nowhere near
a quarter. An eighth.

An eighth, then.

~ Our tobacco against a gill of your rum.
~ Half a gill.

Fine.

~ What game?
~ Erm, you choose.

Seven card stud. Do you know it?

~ A bit.
~ Seven shells. You run out of
shells, you're out of the game.

~ I'm in.
~ Shall I deal?
~ I will deal.

Measure the rum.

Cut.

Two face down,

four face up,

and the last one face down, yes?

Yes.

Where did you get the tobacco?

~ I found it.
~ Of course you did.

~ Where?
~ Is two aces good?

Very.

Five of hearts, three of
hearts, seven of diamonds,

four of clubs, and a big
fat king of hearts to me.

Er, king to bet. One shell.

Who did you, er, steal it from?

~ Steal what?
~ The tobacco.
~ What does he take us for?

Nine of diamonds, five of
spades, ten of diamonds,

three of spades...

and another big fat king to me.

Pair to bet. Another shell.

Was she, er... was she
on the game, back home?

~ Elizabeth?
~ Yes.

Hm? Seven of diamonds, jack of clubs,

seven of clubs, six of diamonds,

and a three, for me.

Well?

You're not pissed enough to say
something like that, Buckley.

Kings to bet.

One shell.

In.

~ In.
~ Me, too.
~ And me.

Ooh.

Four of spades, deuce of hearts,

six of spades, ten of clubs...

.. and an eight for the dealer.

I'm just... curious.

I wonder how it feels
to be married to a woman

who's shagged two or
three thousand men.

Still me? Er, one shell.

Has she ever worked
out exactly how many?

~ Could two or three thousand
be on the low side?
~ Please.

~ Could it be more like four or five?
~ Come on.

Just win the rum off this
bastard and we go. Yes?

She was never on the game.

~ She punched a woman...
~ Ooh.
~ .. who turned out to be a duchess -

~ that's why she's here.
~ Hm.

I'll see you.

~ She had men, before me.
~ Mm.

Very few. Certainly a lot fewer than
any tart you have ever been with.

~ Really?
~ Mm-hm.

Well...

What?

It is on you.

See you.

See you.

See you.

Three kings.

Famous last words - "Cannot
possibly lose."

Thank you! Thank you.

What are you doing?

Why are you shuffling the cards?

I... I did not expect
anyone to be here.

Cards, Tommy?

Poker?

Yes.

You promised me you would
never play again.

Cut them.

~ Why?
~ Because we are playing.

What are we playing for?

My wife.

~ I think we should go, Tommy.
~ Mm-hm.

I'm not letting that bastard
walk away with our tobacco.

~ You are not thinking straight,
Tommy, so we will...
~ He's not having our tobacco.

It is no longer our tobacco. It
is his tobacco. He has won it.

~ No.
~ So, let us go now

~ before you lose something
even more precious.
~ No.

One night with my wife against
all your tobacco and rum.

~ Yes.
~ Corporal?
~ You should be ashamed of yourself.

You should be down on your knees
thanking God for a woman like that

~ in a place such as this.
~ Do not lecture me on morality, Corporal!

~ You're gambling her away
like a piece of meat.
~ You sold your woman for a corporal's sash.

~ You can stick your morality up your arse!
~ I did not sell her!

~ Sergeant Timmins?
~ I did not sell my woman.

~ Fine! Sergeant Timmins?
~ Let us be clear what's at stake here.

Your wife, for one night...

~ .. and I can do to her whatever I wish?
~ Tommy!
~ Yes.

~ Yes?
~ Sergeant Timmins, there
is no greater betrayal

than my Tommy playing poker again.

So yes.

Whatever you wish.

~ I'm in.
~ Corporal?
~ I used to think you a man of honour.

~ A convict, yes - but a man of honour.
~ Are you in?

But you're not. You
are no less a gobshite

~ than any other man.
~ Are you in?
~ Go to hell.

Ten shells each. The game goes on
until one man has all the shells.

Agreed.

I am so, so sorry.

Tell me you forgive me.

Please tell me you forgive me.

Of course I do.

And one last one.

Have you got anything
with those aces?

Put your shell in,
Sarge, and find out.

I can beat your prile.

~ But not if you've got something with it.
~ James?

Sorry.

Tell me you can beat it, Tommy.
Tell me you can beat it!

I have two pair.

Two pair?

Yes.

~ For God's sake, man. Two pair?
~ Yes!

Then I am his, or his.

And I will see you.

And you?

I will see you, too.

Why? Why? You cannot beat
what he has showing!

And I will see you...

.. naked. In my bed.

And you will be obliging...

and clean.

Full house.

Two jacks to go with my three aces.

Jesus.

Private Buckley, you have won

and you have every right to take
your winnings, but I love this man.

Despite what he has done tonight,
I love this man and no-one else.

Please let me stay with him.

If I did...

~ .. would I go up in your estimation?
~ Yes.

Up enough for you to shag me?

No.

In that case, I must insist
on taking my winnings.

She will be in my bed
tonight. Not yours.

You would welsh on a bet?

No.

Because I have won.

With two pair?

~ Yes.
~ Two pair cannot beat three aces.

Never mind three aces with two jacks.

Two pair should not be in the
same room as a hand like mine.

~ This is a very special two pair.
~ I am sure.

Two pair of fours.

That's four in total.

~ YOU BEAUTY!
~ YES!
~ Oh, you gorgeous man!

Tommy! Oh, you little beaut.

~ Oh, yes.
~ Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous man.

If you sit on your hand long
enough, it will go numb

and you can pretend someone
else is giving you a wank.

Queen of Hearts.

Chalk it down to experience.

He has cheated.

Probably.

She acted all surprised
to find us there, yes?

~ Yes.
~ She was expecting to be alone, then?
~ Yes.

What woman goes into a mortuary
alone at dead of night?

We've been had, Private Buckley.

TOMMY! WHOO HOO!

~ You cheated.
~ Yeah, you think so?

~ Know so. You cheated.
~ What will you do? See the governor, yeah?

When gambling gets 100
lashes? I do not think so.

~ Give me the rum back.
~ D-d-d-d-d-d.
~ You know how I know you cheated?

~ No.
~ I cheated.
~ Ah, now that I do know.

Because you dealt at
least two of your kings

straight off the bottom of the pack.

~ The Blind Man of Bethsaida
could have seen it.
~ There was no way you could
have ended up with four fours

~ unless you also cheated.
So give me this rum.
~ Ah, ah, ah, ah.
~ I will call it all square.
~ Yeah?

Do you know what I would
call it? A very bad idea.

I do not blame you for cheating.

~ I mean, why leave it to chance?
A woman like that, yeah?
~ Yes.

Heartbreaking to think someone
like me has been there.

~ Course you have.
~ I have.

Time to go, Buckley. I think.

You did not just beat me,
you did not just cheat me,

you did not just drop
me from there. No.

You led me to believe
that I had won her.

That she was mine.

You dropped me from there.

Because it was much more
entertaining to drop me from there.

And that is why he
is getting this now.

~ I had her.
~ Yeah?

On the day she got flogged. She
was in a cell. I was guarding her.

~ I gave her one then.
~ I am sure you did.

~ Baby's probably mine.
~ God help it.

Why do you find that so
hard to believe, Barrett?

Is it my, er... repugnance?

~ Or is it your great love for each other?
~ Ey, ey, ey, ey.

I would say... a little bit of both.

Buckley, Buckley, Buckley.

You have a very vivid imagination.

Tommy, let us go.

~ She has a birthmark on
the right cheek of her arse.
~ Come on, Tommy.

In the shape of an anchor.

How do I know that if
I have not been there?

Can you hear the deafening silence?

Where are the protestations
of innocence? Hm?

What is going on here?

If this is true, Buckley,

then you are finished.

Well?