All language subtitles for Outlander.S03E03.STRiFE.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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Have ye not seen the inside of
enough prisons for one lifetime?

Tell him ye heard from me.

He'll now know once and for
all you have no allegiance

to Red Jamie.

John Grey is my brother.

He owed you a debt of honor.

Can't even shoot the bastard.

If ye believe yer wife to be a witch,

then who am I to contradict ye?

It's another vision.

Madame Blanche, the white lady.

We'll raise the child as
our own, with a father.

A living, breathing man.

Where'd she get the red hair?

Claire, when I'm with you, I'm
with you, but you're with him.

I threw myself into
my new role as best I could,

but there was still something missing.

I knew eventually I would
need to do something more.

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_

Is that what I think it is?

It is.

A full English breakfast.

- Black pudding?
- Ah, fingers off.

Mmm. And bread fried in bacon fat?

- Of course.
- What's the occasion?

Well, Brianna came home
from school the other day

and asked for Eggo toaster waffles,

so I've decided she needs
more Englishness in her life.

And your plan is what?
Are you going to feed

the Americanness out of her?

Well, it's either that

or I replace her beloved Dr.
Seuss with Dickens.

- Mm.
- Brianna, breakfast is ready.

Oh, that's delicious. I've missed that.

Good. Perhaps I'm onto something.

You know, I don't have class tonight,

and I've read about as much
as I can about gallbladders.

Maybe we could go see a film later.

Joe said "The Searchers" is fantastic.

- Um...
- Or, you know,

if you're not in the mood for a western,

we could go see "Carousel."

No, that sounds... that sounds lovely.

I've seen them both.

Oh, both, really?

Yes.

Oh, um...

- Uh, we...
- No, no, I'm... I'm sorry.

- We agreed we were free to...
- No, of course.

I'm... I'm being discreet, Claire.

Yes, you are. Thank you.

- There she is.
- For you.

Oh. Oh, that's wonderful, darling.

Really lovely.

_

Is it always so gloomy?

Chin up, My Lord.

The drink here is fine compensation.

I left you a list of booze-merchants.

Paperwork's the worst of the duty.

After that there's not a
great deal to do, really,

save to hunt for grouse

and Frenchman's Gold.

The fortune in bullion
that Louis of France

sent to Charles Stuart?

They say the Highland army
hid it somewhere on the moor.

I was captivated by it my first year,

determined to find it.

But after a few years I finally
yielded to my better senses.

However, the man that does deliver
a treasure such as that to London

would certainly have the
attention of the Crown.

I understand the prisoners to
be mostly Jacobite Highlanders.

Yes, and docile as sheep.

No heart in them after Culloden.

God, I'll be glad to get
back to civilization.

Not much in the way of
local society, I gather?

My dear fellow.

"Society" will consist solely

of conversation with your officers...

and one prisoner.

A prisoner?

You'll not have heard
of Red Jamie Fraser?

Of course. The man was
notorious during the Rising.

Well, we have him.

He's the only Jacobite officer here
and the only man we keep chained.

Lasted as a fugitive for
six years after Culloden.

Prisoners treat him as their chief.

They call him Mac Dubh.

I don't know what it means, a
sign of respect of some sort.

If matters arise, he
acts as their spokesman.

Guards are all afraid of him.

Those that fought at Prestonpans
say he's the Devil himself.

Poor Devil now.

You'll need Fraser's
good will and cooperation.

I had him take supper
with me once a week.

You might try a similar arrangement.

I'll not dine with that...

prisoner.

As you wish.

Well, I'll leave you to it.

Good luck, Major.

Have ye seen ye're new governor yet?

I had a look at him in the yard.

We havena spoken.

Well, better the Devil ye
ken, than the Devil ye don't.

Mac Dubh, am I wrong?

No, Hayes, ye're no' wrong.

I canna say if ye're right yet.

For you, Mac Dubh.

So ye've seen the
new governor, then?

Is that what the neep-heids
were blathering about?

Aye. I've seen him.

Seems familiar.

I canna place him.

Name is Grey.

Matters not.

All the mollies look alike.

Take God's own eye to
tell one from another.

They say the same about us.

They could tell well enough

if they allowed us to wear our tartans.

Best tuck that away.

Ye know the punishment for having it.

Aye.

So ye took no measure of the man?

He's gey young.

Looks scarce more than a bairn.

Carries himself well.

Shoulders square...

and a ramrod up his arse.

The ramrod is standard
issue in the British army.

Ye've been bitten again.

Aye.

The rats are growing uncommon bold.

This'll help with the festering.

And la grippe as well.

Och, not more of yer damn thistles.

Do ye think me a pig?

Stubborn as one.

It's only milk thistle.

Take the heads off,

mash the leaves, stems.

I learnt the trick from...

a lass...

who knew a fair amount

about healing.

The prisoner, sir, as commanded.

James Fraser.

Aye.

I am Major John William Grey,

the governor of this prison.

I believe you and Colonel
Quarry had an understanding.

We did.

I would like to continue that.

You acting as spokesman
for the prisoners.

Fine.

Where would you like
your supper served, sir?

In here, prisoner, if you please.

Damn my eyes! It's after my supper.

Has the prison got a cat?

There're cats in the storerooms.

Well, fetch one up here at once.

Are there many rats in the cells?

Great many.

They sometimes scurry across my chest

whilst I'm sleeping, sir.

If you will, MacKay, please
ensure that each prison cell

is provided with its own cat.

Something the matter, MacKay?

With respect, sir,

I dinna think the men
would care to have a cat

takin' all their rats.

Surely, the prisoners don't eat them?

Only when they're lucky
enough to catch one.

God knows what you did to be sent here,

but for your own sake,

I hope you deserved it.

Will that be all then, sir?

Yes.

For now.

Mama,

hold your diploma up a bit higher.

Three, two, one, cheese.

Very good. All right,
who's next, maestro?

Just you and Mommy now.

Okay. Me and Mommy.

Mm, all right, all right.

Darling, shouldn't you be
leaving for Fontaine's?

I don't want you to
miss your reservation.

- There's plenty of time.
- Really?

It's for seven.

You're coming with us,
aren't you, Daddy?

Uh, I wish I could, my angel,

but, um, I have some
work I need to finish.

If you're not going, I'm not going.

- Bree?
- You'll have a lovely time,

I promise.

I thought the reservation was at six.

No. Sorry, it's seven.

Don't worry, we'll be out
of your hair soon enough.

- Calling Dr. Randall.
- Oh, excuse me.

Dr. Joe's salvation elixir.

Is this your
prescription for everything?

Nothing a cold martini won't cure.

Oh.

Mm, you are going to
be a horrible doctor.

Oh, may I help you?

Oh...

I'm sorry. I...

Claire?

Bree, go and play.

Your work, I presume?

Here, my darling.
Everyone... I have an idea.

Why don't we go to the restaurant now?

And if they can't seat us early,

we'll just entertain
ourselves at the bar.

The Devil?

Halt! Bring me that man!

Who are you, sir? How do
you come by this place?

The gold is cursed.

Did he just say gold?

Take him with us.

The gold... the gold is cursed.

Mr. Fraser.

Thank you for coming.

I summoned you because
a situation has arisen

in which I require your assistance.

And what might that be, sir?

A man named Duncan Kerr has
been found wandering the moor

near the coast.

He appears to be gravely ill,

near death even, and his
speech is deranged.

However, certain matters
to which he refers

appear to be of...

substantial interest to the Crown.

Unfortunately, the man in question

has been heard to babble in a
mixture of Gaelic and French,

with no more than a
word or two of English.

And you would like my assistance

to translate what this
man might have to say?

I've been told you speak
both Gaelic and French.

We haven't much time.

I fear I must decline, sir.

Might I inquire as to why, Mr. Fraser?

I'm a prisoner.

Not an interpreter.

Mr. Fraser, if you do what I ask,

I will have your irons struck off.

I understand you've been
wearing them for three years.

I can't imagine how
heavy they must feel.

I have, however, two conditions.

You give a full and true account
of whatever the fellow says,

and you relay to no one, save me,

any information you glean.

And I have but one condition, sir.

That you provide blankets and medicine

for all the men that are ill.

A most ambitious request.

We're in short supply of both

and I can't possibly bring that about.

Then this conversation is over, sir.

Return the irons if you must.

Mr. Fraser, believe me when I tell you

that I would honor your request...

if I were able.

I would settle for one man, then.

My kinsman, Murtagh Fitzgibbons.

He's been struggling to survive here

ever since Culloden.

I will inquire as to
what we have in stores.

Then you have a bargain, sir.

You invited her here?

Where our daughter lives.

You were taking the car,

so she was... she was just
picking me up, huh.

You really dislike me that much?

It's my graduation, for
God's sake, Frank.

You humiliated me in front
of my new colleagues.

Oh, welcome to the club.

What the hell does that mean?

Keep your voice down.
You'll wake Brianna.

- What does that mean?
- It mean...

It means you're not as good an actress

as you think you are, Claire.

Do you honestly think anyone at Harvard

believes that we're happily married?

You've convinced no one.

And let's not forget,

it was your idea to lead separate lives.

Yes, but you agreed to be discreet.

And having your blonde harlot

show up on our doorstep is
quite the opposite of that.

Do not call her that.

Sandy has a Ph.D. fellowship
in historical linguistics.

- She's no fucking harlot.
- Does she?

Well, I'm sure you two will
have plenty to discuss, then.

Oh, are you jealous now?

Green ain't your color, Claire.

Oh, go to hell.

You knew how important today was to me.

You did this deliberately. You...

you wanted to hurt me.

Maybe I did.

Maybe I wanted to give you a
taste of your own medicine,

Dr. Randall.

Have you fucked her in our bedroom?

Have you?

I think our bedroom is
far too crowded already.

Wouldn't you agree?

Fine.

Let's stop with the pretense, Frank.

File for divorce.

Divorce?

Why not?

You'd have your freedom.

Yes.

I would.

When Jerry divorced
Millie a... a year ago,

he... he gained his freedom,

but he lost his children for it.

The court ruled that a...
a child needs a mother

more than his father.

He rarely sees them now. That...

I will not let that
happen to Brianna and me.

I would never keep Bree from you.

Well, we could work out a compromise.

Forgive me, Claire, if I
don't risk everything

on your promises.

You have not been very
good at keeping them.

Anything else you'd like to discuss...

while we're here?

Jesus Christ.

Oh, there is a reason why we are so...

terribly bad at charades, my darling.

_

_

_

_

The gold is cursed.

_

She hid them.

Aye.

_

_

_

_

_

He is dead.

The MacKenzie is dead.

The gold, man.

_

All of them...

_

Colum...

Dougal...

_

Folk do say,

how Ellen MacKenzie

did leave...

_

_

_

The gold.

_

Do ye be warned, lad.

It was given by the ban-druidh,

the white witch.

Who is she?

The white witch?

She... she seeks a brave man,

a MacKenzie.

Aye.

Speak to me, man.

_

She will come for you.

Well, Mr. Fraser, tell me what he said.

Speaking of white witches and selchs.

Selchs? White witches?

That's it?

You're holding back.

I keep my bargains, sir.

Do you, Mr. Fraser?

I suspect there is more to this story.

I can force you to talk.

There's nothing you can do

that hasn't already been done to me,

so...

try if you must.

We will speak again, Mr. Fraser.

- ♪ Happy birthday to you ♪
- ♪ Birthday to you ♪

Muah.

Well, I know what I'm wishing for.

Well, don't waste it on a car.
Because you're not getting one.

Oh, wish away.

You never know.

This is worse than yer
last putrid concoction.

It's all I can manage.

What happened with Kerr?

His speech was a mad rant,

not much made sense.

Said the gold was cursed.

Mentioned something about...

Get on with it before I die of old age.

A white witch...

who had, uh, some
connection to the gold.

A white witch?

And ye're thinking...

after all these years?

Of course not.

But is it even possible?

I dinna ken.

I wish we could know what became of her

once you sent her through the stones.

Wishing will no bring her back.

But I think of her

every now and then.

And the wee bairn that she was carrying.

Try not to think of it.

It will only bring ye
pain and suffering.

Can I at least pray them sound?

- Fraser, get up.
- Aye.

That ye can.

I am told you used to
dine with Colonel Quarry.

I trust you'll do me the same honor now.

You think yer pleasantness
will loosen my tongue?

Of course I didn't mean...

Ye can return me to the cells,
if ye have that in mind.

Mr. Fraser, I only ask
for you to dine with me

in attempt to forge a
connection between us

better suited to our situation here.

Lovely.

Fine.

Then I'll ask your leave

to hunt for ourselves;

since the Crown cannot supply
the men with adequate food.

A hunt?

Gi... give you weapons and allow
you to wander the moors?

God's teeth, Mr. Fraser.

Not weapons.

And not wandering.

Give us leave to set
snares upon the moor

when we're cutting peats.

And keep such meat as we take.

We could also gather watercresses, sir.

- What for?
- To eat.

Why?

Well, eating green plants
will stop ye getting scurvy.

Wherever did you get that notion?

From my wife.

You're married?

She's gone.

I see.

Well...

I shall take your proposal
under consideration.

Now may we please begin?

The pheasant will get cold.

Extremely feeble-minded bird,
all but beg to be shot.

Nonetheless, quite
tasty in a wine sauce,

wouldn't you agree?

Aye.

Vin de Bourgogne.

The sauce.

I, um...

I'm not sure.

We had, uh, roast
pheasant in a wine sauce.

Oh, red wine?

Aye. Aye, vin de Bourgogne.

Yeah, the bird was served
with... with carrots and nips,

fresh herbs, uh, cruss of
rolls topped with butter.

Slow down, Mac Dubh.

I want to savor every morsel.

Then we had fresh salmon...

We're just checking the snares.

Aye, the governor said that we could.

- Stay on them.
- Yes, sir.

Come on, lads. Slow down.

Stay with them.

On it, sir.

Easy, boys.

- I've got nothing.
- I've got one!

That's my snare.

- Rubbish, this is my one.
- No, it's not.

Yer just jealous because
I've got one and you havena.

Whoo!

Escaped.

We checked behind that brush.

Are you sure the patrol
caught sight of him here?

Yes, sir. Thought they saw him
swimming out to the islands.

I want the cliffs searched
in both directions.

Keep an eye out for boats below.

God knows there's room
enough to hide a sloop

behind some of those islands.

If he went in anywhere
along this stretch, Major,

you'll have seen the last of him.

Sir, it's been three days now.

I do not need reminding, Corporal.

Remain here until nightfall,

then return to the moor.

Yeah, that's how it's
done, William Grey,

second son of Viscount Melton.

How long did it take yer
comrades to find ye

after we tied ye to that tree?

Were ye there so long
as to shite yerself?

- You remembered.
- Aye.

After ye called me to yer
quarters that first day.

I tend to remember anyone who
tries to slit my throat.

Why did you not speak of it before?

I was waiting for the proper occasion.

Why did ye not remind me?

I think you know why.

Maybe indifferent to yer own welfare,

but perhaps ye may have some concern

for this lady's honor, huh?

- Huh?
- All right!

Release the lady and...

I will tell you whatever you wish.

They were the actions of a foolish boy

and I regret them to this very day.

The mere memory of them
burns shame into my gut.

But fortunately for you,

my foolishness at Corrieyairack
saved your life at Culloden.

Did it not?

Aye.

Your brother Lord Melton was
an honorable gentleman.

And my family debt to you
has been discharged.

But not yer promise.

Promise?

When last we parted...

you vowed...

I owe you my life.

I should hope to discharge
that debt in the future.

And once it is discharged,

I will kill you.

Well, sir...

here I am.

I am not a murderer
of unarmed prisoners.

I told ye faithfully all that
Kerr told me that night.

What I didna tell ye

was some of what he
said had meaning to me.

What meaning was that?

I spoke to you of my wife.

Yes. You said she was dead.

I said she was gone.

She was a healer.

A white lady.

The word in Gaelic is ban-druidh.

It also means witch.

The white witch.

So the man's words
referred to your wife?

I thought they might be.

And if so, uh, I had to
go to see for myself.

There was nothing there to do with her.

She is truly gone.

And the gold, Mr. Fraser?

King Louis never sent
gold to the Stuarts.

All I found was a

empty box save for one jewel.

It is a moving story, Mr. Fraser.

Yet there is no evidence
that is the truth.

I give ye my word my story is true.

And I have this as well.

I saved it...

thinking it might be useful
if ever I were to be freed.

Mary Peterson.

Sandra Phillips.

Brianna Randall.

That's my girl.

Kevin Riley.

Amanda Ross.

I'm so proud of you.

Megan Sanborne.

Fitzgibbons is over there.

What's this, then?

The governor ordered me to
accompany the doctor here

to treat your kinsman.

It's good to see your friend,
Fitzgibbons, is better.

Aye.

Very much.

After three months of
tending by your physician

he's in fine fettle.

Why ye cunning wee bastard.

Where the hell did ye learn that trick?

My elder brother taught it to me.

- Ah, Lord Melton, ye mean.
- Yes.

Your brother very stubbornly
refused to shoot me.

I wasna inclined to be grateful
for the favor at the time.

You wished to be shot?

I thought I had reason.

What reason was that?

I mean no impertinence in asking.

It is only...

at that time, I felt similarly.

I...

lost a particular friend at Culloden.

He was the reason I joined the army.

He...

inspired me.

My brother was there
when I found him dying.

I didn't even have the chance
to say a proper good-bye.

Hal dragged me away.

He was embarrassed, you see.

He said I would overcome it.

Come to terms with it.

In time.

Hal is generally right,

but not always.

Some people, you grieve over forever.

Do you find your life greatly
burdensome, Mr. Fraser?

Perhaps...

not greatly so.

I think perhaps the greatest burden

lies in caring for those we cannot help.

Not in having no one for whom to care.

That is...

emptiness.

But no great burden.

Your wife, she was a healer, you said?

She was.

She...

Claire.

Her name was Claire.

You cared for her very much, I think.

I meant to thank you some time, Major.

Thank me?

For what?

That night we first
met at Corrieyairack.

For what ye did for my wife.

Perhaps ye may have some concern
for this lady's honor, huh? Huh?

Let her go!

All right, release the lady

and I will tell you whatever you wish.

- Hmm.
- That was your wife?

You were a worthy foe. Do you blame me?

If you found a 16-year-old

shitting himself with fear a
worthy opponent, Mr. Fraser,

it is little wonder the
Highland army was defeated.

Well, a man that doesna
shit himself with a knife

held to his throat has either
no bowels, or no brains.

Ye wouldna speak to save yer own life,

but ye would to save
the honor of a lady.

I admire that.

Your wife was in no danger at all.

But ye didna ken that at the time.

Ye thought to save her
life and her virtue

at the risk of yer own.

Oh, I've thought of that
now and again since...

since I lost her.

I see.

I am sorry for your loss.

Take yer hand off me...

or I will kill you.

Tough surgery?

I can tell by just looking at you.

Oh, they all seem tough these days.

- You've done what you can.
- Yes.

Worrying about it now won't change it.

Hm.

Ah, well, I've said it all before.

You have.

What is it?

I'd, uh, I'd like to
take Brianna to England.

Oh, that's lovely.

How long would you go for?

Well...

I've been offered a
position at Cambridge.

A good one.

- An offer?
- Mm.

What about the hospital? My patients?

Frank, I can't leave Boston
and move to England.

I'm not asking you to leave.

I want a divorce, Claire.

A-a divorce?

Yes.

Well, we talked about this
years ago and you said...

No, I know... I know what I said.

But Brianna's 18 now.

Does she know about this plan?

No, not yet.

But I think she'll come.

Between med school and the hospital,

you've barely been here.

- How dare you.
- Claire, please.

There are fine universities there.

Oxford, for one, where I
still have some pull.

And what about Candy? Hm?

Sandy.

We'll get married as soon as I'm free.

Oh, you're going to marry her?

For God's sake, Frank. Be serious.

I'm finished with this, Claire.

You've been waiting.

All this time,

you've just been waiting
for the clock to run out.

Well, Brianna is my daughter.

And you will not take her anywhere.

Yeah, well, I don't think I'll have to.

- You bloody bastard!
- Be reasonable, Claire.

You want to divorce me? Fine.

Use whatever grounds you like

except adultery,

which you can't prove
because it doesn't exist.

If you try to take Brianna away from me,

I will have a thing or two to
say about adultery, Frank.

This isn't about you and me anymore.

Brianna is a grown woman.

She... she can make her own decisions.

She has her own life.

I would like to live
the rest of my life...

with a wife who truly loves me.

You couldn't look at Brianna

without seeing him.

Could you?

Without that constant reminder.

Him.

Might you have forgotten him,

with time?

That amount of time...

doesn't exist.

Dr. Randall.

Yes.

Are they prepping for surgery?

Okay, I'll be right there.

Prepare to march the men.

The ships sail at nightfall.

Fraser?

To the right. Close your ranks.

- What's happening?
- Prison's closing.

The prisoners are being removed.

The fortress is to be garrisoned

by the Queen's Seventh Own
Regiment of Dragoons.

Removed?

To the left.

To where?

The colonies.

- Where...
- Quickly, now.

The journey ahead is long.

Where am I being taken?

Keep your line.

Grey?

It's been three days.

You're going to have to
talk to me eventually.

'Tis no better than slavery.

A term of indenture is not slavery.

The other prisoners will
regain their freedom

after a term of 14 years.

If they survive.

Why was I not sent to the territories

or the colonies wi' them?

Why do you keep me here, Grey?

You are not merely a prisoner,
but a convicted traitor,

imprisoned at the
pleasure of His Majesty.

Your sentence cannot be commuted
without Royal approval.

His Majesty has not seen
fit to give that approval.

I couldn't give you freedom, Fraser.

This is the next best I could manage.

Where am I to go, then?

It's called Helwater.

You'll serve Lord Dunsany.

I shall visit you once each quarter,

to ensure your welfare.

- Welfare?
- But I caution you...

your new host is not well
disposed to Charles Stuart

or his followers.

You can scarcely hope to conceal
the fact that you're a Scot,

a Highlander at that.

It you will consider a piece
of well-meant advice,

it might be judicious not to use a name

as easily recognized as your own.

Why?

Why would you do that for me?

I didna let ye have yer way.

I regret that particular
moment of weakness.

It was foolish of me.

But I told you about...

someone I cared for.

And you did the same.

You gave me my life all those years ago.

Now I give you yours.

I hope you use it well.

Yer brother discharged that debt.

For the sake of the family name.

I discharge it for the sake of my own.

Now, Mr. Fraser,

let's be on our way.

Frances is in recovery.

She's stable, and her vitals are good.

The best thing you can do for her now

is get some rest.

Thank you.

It's Frank.

There's been a car accident.

Oh, Frank.

If you're still close enough to hear me,

I did love you.

Very much.

You were my first love.

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