All language subtitles for Black.Sails.S03E01.1080p.BluRay.X264-DEFLATE

I think you intend
to return to that beach,

and seize every last ounce
of gold off of it,

and I think you're going
to need my help to do it.

I have committed men and resources
to aid you in retrieving the Urca gold,

in exchange for which
you assured me,

expelling Captain Vane
from that fort.

We'll procure a ship,

we'll recruit men,

and we'll create from nothing,
a new crew.

You asked for better captains.

I give you Captain Jack Rackham.

I can't be your wife, Jack.

You and I are gonna be partners

till they put us in the ground.

That is the crown jewel taken

from the good fortune prize.

Her father's Lord Peter Ashe,

governor of the Carolina Colony.

Her father is a very influential man,

he and I were friends.

When you return her
to her father,

you're going to explain

what it is you're trying
to accomplish here.

A Nassau that can self-govern.

You are no longer a hostage.

I'm gonna get you out of here.

You will turn on absolutely
anyone, won't you?

Listen to me clearly.

You will hear from me again.

You think there's something
valuable enough to make

the British Navy forget that
you and I are pirates?

Not what, who.

This is Eleanor Guthrie,
the trade boss in Nassau.

Imagine sir,
how London would react

to the arrival
of the queen of thieves.

I am so very sorry for what...

You destroyed our lives!
Miranda...

I want to see that
noose around your neck,

and I want to pull the lever

with my own two ha...!

I have placed
Captain Flint under arrest!

His trial will be swift and final!

Flint stole from me,
and I'm making it right.

You hate Flint, I hate Flint.

But right now, he's talking
about how we survive,

what comes next.

I suggest we get him
the hell out of there.

Everyone is a monster to someone.

Since you are so convinced
that I am yours,

I will be it.

What are you doing here?

Figured if anyone was going
to make a trophy of you,

it really ought to be me.

Her word
will be the last word for this place.

My men will need
to lean on something solid.

They look to me for that,

but they'll also look
to their new quartermaster.

There's something you ought to know,

before my misfortune at
the hands of Vane's leftenants,

our friend, the scout,
confessed something to me.

He told me that he could
sell the gold's location

to another crew in exchange
for a larger share of the prize.

__

Mast approaching,
starboard side!

Rig the capstan!

Sir?

There are men here to see...

May I help you?

You're Drummond.

Mary's your wife.

Mary's our sister.

Caleb, Tom, and...

Edgar.
Edgar, that's right.

And you came all the way
from Williamsburg

just to be upset with me?

We came from Williamsburg

to make sure that you
honored your vows to her.

End of today, either you're gonna
be her current husband

or her late one.

I'm sorry, but, um, there's
someplace I have to be.

You're coming with us.

I understand your anger,

but I've lived long enough

to know that any promise made

beside the word "forever"

is no more than a lie agreed upon.

There is no forever.

Everything moves towards its end.

And the closer we get to ours,
the louder that clock ticks,

the less a sane man
would let a promise

deprive him of happiness.

I explained all this to Mary,

who told me she understood

and that she would not
protest our separation.

Are you calling my sister a liar?

Well...

You're here.

I can think of at least three lies

she must have told you
to bring that about.

First, I imagine she told you

I retired from a prosperous trade

to settle with her here.

But what she likely did not mention

is that that trade
was high seas piracy.

Second, she told you
my name was Drummond,

but when I plied that trade,

I was called Teach.

And third,

she clearly led you to believe

that you could point your sword
in my direction

and survive the experience.

This, too, was something
less than the truth.

Nassau awaits.

Let us away.

Who goes there?

I said, "Who goes there?"

You are the magistrate here.

Hazzard.

Bridgetown, St. Kitts,

Martinique, Nevis...

Their magistrates
hanged men for piracy.

They all receive visits from me.

The word went forth...

Any capital sentence
served against a pirate

would hear my answer.

You must'a known. You must'a heard.

And yet you chose to hang
those three men in your square.

Why?

If I didn't...

If I let my fear of you
prevent me from enforcing the law,

then civilization in this place is dead.

I also know that most
of those other magistrates you visited,

they were corrupt men, dishonest men.

I wagered that despite
all I'd heard about you,

your mercilessness, your cruelty,

that you could tell the difference.

That you could see
I was an honest man.

No!

No, no, no.

No!

Keep 'em coming!

Throw down a rope!

We need it to pull up plunder!

Keep movin' up
the decks, down below.

How many more you got comin' up?

Another three.

Is it done?

It is.

Once the plunder is stowed,
get us underway.

Every man to his charge.

Looks like we garnered
a good haul out of it.

Get everything into the hold.

The men did well
under the circumstances.

Not all of them.

Lost his nerve.
I want him replaced on the Vanguard

before we go over the side again.

He lost his footing.

I don't think it had anything to do
with his nerve.

Replace him.

He's getting worse.

He's fine.

Are you sure about that?

We just faced a band
of colonial regulars out there.

He's entitled to a mood.

Is it her?

It's her.
Right where she's supposed to be.

Bring us alongside.

Spread your sheets!
Stand ready with grapples!

Spread the sheets!

Ready the grapples!

His men are jumping ship.

They aren't his men.

They're his cargo.

When Jack asked me to hunt her,

he said she was hauling timber.

He said the supplies were badly needed
for fort repairs.

Funny...

I don't remember him
saying anything about slaves.

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You know who I am?

What you cannot know
is where I come from,

what I once was.

If you knew that,

I imagine you would've made
different choices today.

The evidence has been delivered.

The accused has been measured.

Now let us talk about judgment.

Miss Guthrie, do you have
anything to say in your defense

before sentence is pronounced?

I have but one regret...

...that though the pirates of Nassau

filled my purse with coin,

I never took the opportunity

to let them fill me with anything else.

I apologize.
Miss Guthrie...

This must seem in such
poor taste to you.

I assume this is your production.

Were the world as I wished it,
news of Eleanor's trial would be received

with the gravity due to someone
who did so much for this place.

They are who they are,

and someone must provide them
with the things they need.

Right now, this is what they need.

...found guilty of these
and countless other crimes

for which the sentence...

Is death.

Any news from London?

The trial is set to begin
sometime next week.

The spectacle around it
is said to be so great,

the king himself
receives daily updates.

Hmm. With that much attention
on the politics in play,

do you believe there is any way

she will be offered
some sort of clemency?

I would think there is
always a chance for mercy

for one willing to beg for it.

But I do not imagine
you came to see our play.

What is it I can do for you?

When Captains Flint and Rackham
made their pact those months ago,

settled their differences over
the possession of the Urca gold,

they asked me to oversee
the restoration of the fort.

To ensure Nassau was protected.

But without the men to do the
work, there is no progress.

The fort remains compromised
and we are all exposed.

And since Captain Vernon's
crew walked off the site,

there's been little to no
labor provided to me at all.

It's only been a few days.

Give him a break.

It's been two weeks.

You wanted to replace Eleanor.

She was the one Nassau relied upon

to solve those problems
no one else could or would.

I hope for all our sakes
you are up to the task.

He said he would see this done.
I know.

He assured everyone he would be
responsible for restoring the fort.

The street comes to me with the
problems it cannot solve for itself,

and right now Jack
is first among them.

I know.

Fuck's sake. I'll go talk to him.

__

Thank you, Celeste.

I have no notes.

Fuckin' leeches down there.

You ain't careful, they're
gonna bleed you dry.

What man wouldn't,
given the opportunity,

purchase the adoration
of the masses

when the cost is so small?

That mess is costing you
100 pound a day.

Well, in about 800 years,
you'll be able to say, "I told you so."

In the meantime, perhaps we
might at least enjoy ourselves.

Why ain't there anyone
up at the fort?

I'd like to thank you for at least
allowing me to finish wiping

before starting that song.

It's been two weeks.
What you waiting for?

I'm working on it.
Are you?

'Cause it sure as shit don't look like
you're working on anything here.

Well, you should spend more time here.

It's a process.
I'm not fuckin' around. I need to know.

Do you need to know
or does your husband?

You know I hate it
when you call her that.

Course I do.
That's why I call her that.

She's got a right to be angry.

Her share of the gold
is sitting up there,

along with mine.
And mine.

Please, relay to whom you must,

Jack Rackham is not lazy.
Jack Rackham is not stupid.

Jack Rackham is not blind.

And Jack Rackham is not
unaware that currently

there are no men
working on that fort.

That said, on the list
of people on this island

who are most concerned with
seeing that fort restored,

there is everyone else,
and then there is one name

that's... That's way at the top of it.

Jack Rackham.
Yeah.

Jack Rackham, exactly.

Don't treat me like I'm someone else.

I'm on your fucking side of this,

same as I've always been.

I am just asking you
to tell me what the plan is.

Jack!

You're about to find out.

Your days of approaching
unannounced are behind you.

I reassigned Mr. Dobbs
off the Vanguard, as you asked.

I told him his skill in the rig

was too valuable to risk
putting him in harm's way.

Thank you.

Then now that that's sorted,

there is another replacement
on the Vanguard

that we should discuss.

Who's that?

You.

Is that so?

I understand we faced colonial
regulars out there last night.

So?

These raids were difficult enough

when the element of
surprise was in our favor.

But now?
Now it would seem your days

of approaching unannounced
may also be at an end.

Every time you go ashore,

there is a risk you don't return...

A risk Nassau loses
its most recognizable figure

and a risk that would seem
to be escalating.

I am suggesting it's time we take
you out of harm's way as well.

We're fighting a war
to protect Nassau.

A war in which our most
effective weapon

is the fear that we can
instill in our enemies.

We've succeeded
in making Captain Flint

the name of grim death
to all of them.

The only way that we can ensure
that that story continues

is if he is the one telling it.

That story is telling
itself, and you know it.

We've been assigned responsibility
for raids we were nowhere near.

Jesus, I've been given credit

for having been
a part of some of them.

They are so terrified of you,
they're terrified of me.

You think that's a reason
we should relent?

Who the fuck said anything
about relenting?

Look, I am talking about
letting someone else

stand in and play
your role now and again.

Thank you for your concern,

but I'll decide when it's time
to start altering our tactics.

No, I'll decide.

This crew has spilled
a great deal of blood

to make your name what it is.

It doesn't belong to you.

It's a jointly held asset

belonging to every man on this crew

who sacrificed some part
of himself to build it.

They have a say
about how it is managed,

and I am the voice of it.

It is clear to me that this raid
was more dangerous than the last.

They are adapting, and it
is of some concern to me

that you either cannot
or will not acknowledge it.

I understand this is all
incredibly personal to you

after the loss of Mrs. Barlow.

Now, wait a minute...

And I understand the burden of
playing the role you currently play

must be taking a toll even you
cannot fully comprehend.

Stop.

Now you have wormed your way into
the heads of the men out there.

And they've granted you authority
over them because of it.

But in my head,
you are not welcome.

It's worse than I feared.

The wound should've been far further
along towards quieting itself.

It's less than ideal.

Have you been cleaning it
as we discussed?

When I can.

It's harder when we're at sea.

I understand your aversion to
being seen using the crutches.

Well, if you understand it,

I wish you'd stop
hectoring me about it.

But the boot was never
intended for a wound this new.

Unless you remove
some of the pressure,

the wound will only continue
to get more irritated.

I'll lean more on the ropes.

With all your weight?
On a moving deck?

I'll manage.

If the decay progresses,
I'll have to remove more of your leg.

Please let me explain.

What is there to explain?

You couldn't figure out
how to repair the fort,

so you lured me into capturing
a ship full of slaves to do the job.

It was the first solid lead
on a slaver we'd had in weeks.

I needed someone who I could
be certain would win her.

So you lied to me about it.

What the fuck made you think
I would just hand them over to you,

knowing what you know of me?

The three of us stood in this
room... You, Flint, and I...

And we agreed
that the fort's restoration

was critical to Nassau's security.

We agreed you would
hire men to restore it.

I tried that!
You're going to need to try harder!

How?

I offer the men exorbitant
wages to do the work.

Do you know what they say?
"You can afford more. We want double that."

All right, double it, it's a deal.
Fuck it.

You know what they say then? "You can't
tell us what to do. We're free men."

"We'll work when we please." Would you
like to take a guess how that is going?

It's five different crews,
it's hundreds of men,

untold thousands in wages,
and I swear to God,

I think that hole in the wall
is bigger now than when we started.

I stood between you and him, Jack.

When Flint was ready
to wage war against you

over the gold,
I was the one who said

you would manage it
as well as anyone could.

For the good of this place, I was
the one who said you could be trusted.

Why?

Why did you stand behind me
in that moment?

I'll tell you why. Because you and
I had been through enough shit

for you to know that I
would do the same for you,

that I have done the same for you,
and would again without hesitation.

I made a commitment
to you, with you,

to restore this place,
to make it strong again.

I see no other way to have it done.

And I will have it done.

I will move heaven
and earth to have it done

because I refuse to let you down.

I knew this would be difficult
for you, so I kept it from you.

Please know that I meant
no slight by it.

No lack of respect or friendship.

It's quite the opposite.

Ship on the horizon!

Ship on the horizon!

Under bare poles!

Whose banner is that?

Hallendale.
Here.

What the fuck's
he doing out there?

Lying in wait?
With his banner raised?

Sails furled.

Not a soul on the deck
or in the rig.

Possible they abandoned her?

Took a prize and decided
to sail away on it?

Had to have been a hell of a prize.

Even Hallendale isn't stupid enough
to leave a ship like that behind.

He could've sailed it back to
Nassau with a few dozen men.

Less.

Why don't we go in closer,
see what's what?

What if they're in distress?

Alter our course to close with her.

Bear away to port.

Bear away to port!

What?

You'll lose our advantage
in this wind.

Delay our return to Nassau
by a day, maybe two.

And we're in dire need of resupply.

Short on foodstuffs,
very short on shot.

That storm in the southwest
isn't dying away.

And we dawdle, we'll find ourselves
right in the middle of it.

And there's a good chance that
that ship we're about to approach

is quiet because all its men
are below deck with a plague.

You think I should've tried
to talk them out of this.

Yeah.

You rally the men
to fight behind the idea

that these are days in which all
of Nassau must stand together.

Either that means
something or it doesn't.

And how the hell
would I argue the latter,

just so we could avoid a delay?

These days any man
who can sew a black flag

and get 10 fools to follow
him can take a prize.

They can take it because of the fear

that I and men like me
have instilled in their prey.

But they can't do what I can do.

They're not built for it.

And sooner or later,
they'll be exposed.

Any fool who followed Hallendale

deserves whatever end
they got in his company.

You were right. This war
is getting more dangerous.

The strong among us must
stand together and face it.

But the fools and the pretenders...

They were never truly
among us to begin with.

As their quartermaster,
it's your decision.

But that's how I might've
argued it to my men...

To avoid unnecessary delay.

Bring your captain on!

There's no damage.

Longboats are gone.

Looks like they just
up and left her here.

Sweep the hold before the captain
goes across just in case there's...

"We die alone."

Someone get me a glass.

Fresh water's been pumped out.

Food stores as well.

They've scavenged half the rig
to anchor this far from shore.

They marooned him,
left him for dead.

Seawater.

Bastard went mad.

The whole crew, every man,

all decide to maroon him

and they go to this much
effort to do it in deep water

rather than keeping the ship
and leaving him ashore?

Why the fuck would they do that?

We need to get out of here.

What is it?

Get out of here now.

Sail!
Sail!

Heading?
Headed this way!

East-southeast!

Get us underway!

Do it now!

British colors.

Not Navy.

She's a hunter.

Carrying 50 guns, maybe more.

It's already a mile inside the horizon.

Must've been trailing us with her
sail reduced until we took the bait.

Drew us into a position where
he's got the weather gauge.

Landmass to the west,
storm to the south,

and no point of sail
on which we can outrun her.

Someone get me a chart!
Chart for the captain!

Full and by on the starboard tack
as close as you can.

Can we fight her?
Behind the wind?

With barely a broadside
worth of shot on hand?

We won't stand a chance.

We may not have a choice.

We got all the money in the world.

Maybe we could find a room that
ain't in the middle of a whorehouse.

I own a tavern, a brothel,
a tanner, a butcher...

Interests in a dozen other
concerns on the street.

I am the one they come to here
when they need things,

want things, fear things.

In another time and another place,
they would call me a queen.

I built this from nothing.

And none of it is real.

What ain't real about it?

Because it is built upon things
I cannot control, cannot predict.

It is built on sand.

And when the day comes
when that foundation shifts,

when civilization returns,

do you know what they
will call me then?

The whore that lost everything.

I like it in this room.

Reminds me that nothing
has changed yet.

You saying this ain't real?

Of course it is.

The fort will be repaired.

If he says it, he'll do it.

When you first opened that door
and showed me the Urca gold,

do you know what I saw?

A solution.

The mortar that would secure
the sand beneath our feet.

The thing I could offer
to England or Spain

or whomever arrived here and
threatened to reorder things,

and say,
"Take this and leave me be."

Everything is dependent
upon that gold,

and right now it is sitting in a fort
with no guns and full of holes.

Charles is gonna agree
to Jack's plan.

In a month,
the fort will be whole.

Made so by slave labor?

Has it not occurred to anyone

that if Jack has not been able to
persuade men to repair the fort,

it is even less likely he will be
able to persuade them to defend it?

The fuck are you saying?

I am saying that if England
were to return right now,

there is nothing to stop them
from capturing that fort.

And so long as that gold
is inside it,

they will be capturing
our futures along with it.

The gold must be
removed from the fort

whether Jack wants it or not.

You're getting awful close

to doing the one thing
you said you'd never do.

Don't ask me to take sides
between you and him.

It doesn't matter. Can't be done.

There's a reason it's up
there in the first place.

There's no other place
to put it and secure it.

Not in its current form, no.

Heave! Heave!

He's well within range.

Then why isn't he firing?

Closing in, making sure
he doesn't miss.

And he doesn't need to rush.

There's nothing
we can do to stop it.

On this side of that coast,

he'll always be faster,
more maneuverable.

Whoever that is out there,
he has us.

Bullshit.

That man has a goddamned
answer for everything.

He's working on an answer for this.

She's opening her gun ports!

Gun crews, prepare to return fire!

Gun crews at the ready!

Cartridge.

Gun crews ready!

Crew of the Walrus!

In my capacity as duly
appointed servant

of His Majesty
King George the First,

I address you directly.

Hornigold.

Time is short, so I will be plain

and offer you
the same terms as accepted

by the late
Captain Hallendale's men.

Surrender, and I am authorized

to offer you full, unqualified pardons.

Your ship will be commandeered

and you will be given a choice of
either entering into my service

or being set free at the
nearest convenient port,

your names cleared
and your accounts squared.

Refuse and I shall grant no quarter.

Do you think they'll take it?

I don't care.

Make the guns ready.

There'll be no battle today.

Our disadvantage is too great.

But what price surrender?

To beg forgiveness from a thing
that took my woman from me?

My friend?

Murdered her,

displayed her body
for their amusement.

I can walk away from this fight
if I just sign my name

beneath a solemn oath
never again to do violence against it.

No.

Not after all it has taken from me.

Not after all it has taken from you.

I will do great violence
against that thing.

They say they will pardon us all,

but I say to offer to pardon

something one fears
is the act of a coward.

To offer them in volume

suggests that their fear of us
is becoming unmanageable,

that we have shown them
what we are capable of

and it terrifies them.

Do any of you want to surrender
to men who fear you?

Lay down arms in a battle
that we are winning?

Neither do I.

Fuck Benjamin Hornigold,

his king, and their pardons.

This war isn't nearly over.

We're not fighting,
and we're not surrendering.

So what are we doing?

We're going that way.

That's a ship killer.

Then he'd be mad to follow us
into it, then, wouldn't he?

Billy, soon as he makes
his break to fire, we run.

Port side batteries are readied.

Let's encourage them to see reason.

Prepare to head up and bring us
into position to fire.

Now.

Now!

There she goes! She's winding up!

Hard to port.

What the hell is he doing?

He'll end up
in the middle of that storm.

Hold on!

There. Hold her there.

Fire!
Fire!

Bring us hard to port.
Make a course to pursue her.

Make sure the hatches are fully battened.

Secure the lashings.

Mr. Silver, we got hits
all along the starboard side.

When we reach that weather, we're
gonna be taking on water down here.

Well, seal it up as best you can.

I'll be down to lend a hand soon.

It isn't just him.

What?

Captain Hume said it took him
every ounce of leverage he could muster

to secure just 10 pardons.

And now Hornigold holds 80 of them.

Maybe Flint's right.
Maybe they are getting nervous.

Or maybe someone else
secured them for him.

Someone larger
than Hume or Hornigold.

Someone to whom the rules
as we understand them don't apply.

Flint was right about one thing.

This is only the beginning.

Something else is coming.

"For years
you lorded over the operations

of hundreds, if not thousands,
of hardened pirates.

How exactly were you
able to manage this?"

"One day at a time, I suppose."

I enjoyed that.

There is a funny thing
about notoriety,

and I have a little
experience with this.

The more people know of you,

the more of you those people
feel belongs to them.

Now, right now,
there is a barrister

who feels entitled to say,

"I am the one who convicted
Eleanor Guthrie."

A judge who wants to say,
"I was the one who hanged her."

A throng of people outside...

"I was the one
who cheered as she swung."

They all feel entitled
to a part of your story.

And it's a hell of a story.

So you can imagine
how difficult it was for me

to arrange it so that I could say,

"I am the one who set her free."

Who the fuck are you?

My name is Woodes Rogers,

and I am the next governor
of New Providence Island.

Well, assuming I can subdue her.

That is where you come in.

I am to set sail
for the West Indies in two days' time.

I am prepared.

But the one element
I lack is knowledge,

someone who understands Nassau

and can help me know
what I'm going to find there.

If you agree
to be that person for me,

your sentence will be commuted

and the charges
against you released.

And what would you ask of me?

I understand it is an
uncomfortable position for you,

feeling like you're betraying
people you've known so closely...

Specifically,
what would I have to do?

To begin with?

A list.

The names of those on the island
who could be made allies,

those who would be harder to sway.

You want to civilize Nassau?

That is the only name
you need concern yourself with.

As long as he is alive,
you cannot succeed.

Your slaves are making progress.

You know I take no pleasure in it.

If there were any other way...

Jack, if I thought it
gave you any pleasure,

I'd have killed you
the moment you suggested it.

Hmm.

The first moment
I saw it on the beach,

I thought, "My God,

the things I'm going
to build with this."

A city...

Alive in a place
it has no right to be,

in defiance of all reason
and refusing to be dislodged,

but growing and...

A place that, 50 years hence
and when I'm long gone

would force the world
to acknowledge

Jack Rackham was here.

I swear to God,
when I sit here long enough,

I can hear it laughing at me.

You don't have to be here, you know.

I have made it clear to all involved
they are to be treated fairly.

You think if you refrain from
beating them, it's any better?

It isn't the violence.

It isn't the labor or the hunger

or the heat or the chains.

You know what those men
fear right now?

It's the unknown.

Lash that comes from nowhere
for reasons never explained.

A visit from the taskmaster
in the dead of night.

But I remember that fear.

Right now, I feel it returning.

What we're doing here,

sitting on Spain's gold
on England's island,

demands a response.

What that response will be,

what form it will take,

what face it will wear...

By the time we do know it,
there will be no time

to prepare for the blow
that follows.

Hmm.

Excuse me, sir.

I wonder if you could help me
locate an old friend of mine.

His name is Charles Vane.