All language subtitles for EN_Outlander.S01E15.Wentworth.Prison

Previously...

I can draw up a
petition of complaint,

accusing Randall of crimes
against the Scottish people.

If you can convince the
Duke of Sandringham

to deliver that document

it could lead to a court
martial for Black Jack.

It's quite simple.

Make free of your body, and
there will be no second flogging.

I couldn't do it.

Are we raiding the
Chisolms today?

I could do with a
tall, strong Scotsman.

I'll ride with you.

Where is Jamie?

MacQuarrie was wounded.
Jamie wouldn't leave him behind.

I knew full well if I had any hope
of finding Jamie I'd need help.

I've news of Jamie.

He's in Wentworth
Prison, condemned to hang.

- We have to hurry.
- I'll not force any of my men

to go to their deaths.

But I'll not stand in the
way of any that choose to go.

I have to look on the
bright side, Fraser.

Nothing like being
hung to make your tossel

stand up solid as an oak.

Seems it's a little late to be
brandishing iron, does it not?

Ah, it takes the
edge off of dying,

knowing that when my neck snaps

I'll be discharging my
juice like a cannon blast.

I heard tell, all that
happens is ye shit yerself.

Well, so much for me trying
to cheer up a condemned man.

Ye've got an awful dark
view of the world, Fraser.

Lachlan Fife.

When they come to get ye,

I'll wrap my chain
around their necks.

Ye grab his musket.

They'll shoot us down like dogs.

Not dogs. Men.

Is it the rope ye're afraid of?

No.

What grieves me is to think
my wife will never forgive me

for foolishly
getting myself hung.

Aye.

Nothing like a wife to make a man
feel disquieted at his own death.

For me, I always knew I was fated
to dangle from the end of a rope,

so I made sure to leave
none behind to mourn for me.

Truth be told, I'm not looking
forward to it much myself.

Taran MacQuarrie.

I'm not gonna let
these bastards see it.

- I've got one regret, Fraser.
- What would that be, Mr. MacQuarrie?

Well, that I'll be climbing
those stairs before you.

Other way around, you could've put
in a good word for me with St. Peter.

To think my last
view of the world

will be a bunch of ill-faured,
pasty-face Englishmen.

My only regret is that I wasted
my life as a common thief,

rather than a patriot serving my
country fighting against you lot.

To the devil with England
and God bless King...

James Fraser.

Stop!

Stop the executions!

I'm on the King's business.

Take that man down
and put him in a cell.

Remove the rope!

Escort the prisoner to
one of the dungeon cells.

Rory MacNeil.

You must suffer from
dodgy eyesight, mate.

That wall is solid stone.

In 20 years, you
might get that bolt loose

except you ain't got 20 years.

Compliments of Captain
Jonathan Randall, Esquire.

Must be good to
have a friend of means.

If you're smart, you'll eat
a hearty meal, have a wash

and your luck can change
at any minute, boyo.

Fraser, James.

And you say you
know the prisoner?

Yes, that's right.

- Close relation?
- Not particularly.

A family connection.

- I hardly know the man, really.
- I should think not.

An Englishwoman of fine breeding
and a common Scottish criminal.

Ah.

Here we are.

It appears he's been granted
a temporary stay of execution.

At least for a little while.
Stroke of luck, I suppose.

When was the last time

you were in contact
with this individual?

Many years.

Old as the connection may be,

I felt it a kind
gesture to come visit.

My Christian duty. I'm
sure you can understand.

I could tell you're a Christian
woman the moment you entered.

May I see him, Sir Fletcher?

I should like nothing better than
to help you, Mrs. Beauchamp.

Unfortunately, I
cannot allow it.

If something were to happen,
I would never forgive myself.

I understand your
position, Sir Fletcher. I do.

But this man comes
from good people.

How sad that a young
man in this situation

would be estranged
from his family.

If he wished to write a letter
to them of reconciliation,

I would be pleased to
deliver it to his mother.

You are thoughtfulness
itself, my dear.

One moment, madam.

I don't believe a letter

directly from the convict
would be appropriate.

However, this may
give the family solace.

The prisoner's personal effects.

Customarily, we send them on to
whomever the prisoner designates

as next of kin after execution.

Perhaps, you
could take it to them.

I'd be happy to.

Well, then, I believe the Lord

will smile upon you
for this good deed.

Up you get, lass. Up you get.

Ooh...

Bastard! Bastard!

Five in a row?

- Come on. It's me now.
- You rigging this? Put your money in.

Aye, you've got the luck
of the devil, you bastard!

I've a few coins left.

Would you listen to
those two donkeys?

Jamie's facing a neck stretching

and all they care about
is rolling double sixes.

I didn't realize Jamie's
fate meant so little to them.

Don't despair, mistress.

The boys here prised you
out of Fort William right under

Black Jack Randall's very nose.

- And that was no easy task.
- Easier than this.

A fort's only there
to keep people out.

- A prison's there to keep people in.
- And what of it?

I was only stating
a fact, mistress.

Cheers!

The next round is
on the two of you.

And the one after that.

Think again. We're skint.

You seem awfully
cheery about it.

Well, it's who we lost
to that has us grinning.

They need to know.

By all means, tell them.

What, me?

No, I think it should
be you. You lost more.

Aye, but you...

Aye, but you kept
ordering more ale.

Kept their throats
well lubricated, you did.

Sober up and speak yer piece.

Oh, ho.

While you three were
sitting here looking glum,

we were losing
our coin to two...

Not one, but two

Wentworth jailers.

Those men work at the prison?

- What did you learn? Anything useful?
- Aye, I believe so.

- The warden... What's his name?
- Sir Fletcher.

- The very man.
- Aye.

He insists on having his
evening meal in private.

After which, he reads his Bible.

Every day, 25 minutes
of quiet reflection.

Introspection.

- Self-examination.
- And?

Dinna be glaikit.

The man's away from
his office for a full hour.

Go on.

Isn't that enough? Hmm?

Yes.

I believe it is.

"Who so pulleth out this
sword of this stone and anvil

"is right-wise King
born of all Britain."

I wondered when
ye'd show yerself.

Expected ye to come alone.

Marley?

Not much in the way of intellect

but impressively brutal
when given the opportunity.

I apologize for the
prison commissary,

but I see you
managed well enough.

Good for you.

So,

you couldn't keep out
of prison long enough

to hear if your pardon
had been granted or not.

Your petition of
complaint against me?

Surely, you haven't forgotten.

You recognize this?

Of course, you do.

I'm afraid that the Duke of
Sandringham likes to talk.

Especially when he drinks.

Certain mutual acquaintances
passed his words along to me and...

Well, we spoke.

It certainly is a most
extraordinary document.

Er...

Well, a complete
blackening of my character.

If presented to the
Court of Sessions,

I would wager that they would
find in your favor, and, well...

I'd hate to think what
would happen to me.

Might be me up on that
gibbet instead of you.

Here to see Sir Fletcher.
He's expecting us.

Right this way, ma'am.

Sir Fletcher didn't mention naught
to me about having you back here,

nor about any
letter to pass along.

Are you implying that
Sir Fletcher lied to me

about Mr. Fraser being allowed
to write a letter to his family?

Didn't say anything about lying.

Then perhaps, you
should ask him yourself.

Sir Fletcher is
indisposed at present.

Must I remind ye, ye're
speaking to a lady?

Begging your pardon, Madam.

It's not often quality

such as yourself
visits this muck heap.

Until Sir Fletcher
returns, you can wait here,

but don't go wandering.

Ain't a safe place
for the fairer sex.

Your concern for my
welfare is duly noted.

Perhaps you would
like to wait with me?

I suspect you've been on
your feet for most of your shift.

Would you like to take a seat?

Are you trying to
get me discharged?

I've got my duties to perform.

Of course. My apologies.

Be at ease.

I promise I shan't
leave this room.

And besides, I have my
manservant here to protect me,

should I be in need of such.

And who's gonna protect him?

You're a bold lass,
asking him to stay.

I was afraid if I didn't,

he might have come
up with it himself.

We have to find keys and a
map to this godforsaken place.

May I call you Jamie?

I care not.

But if ye're expecting
me to beg for my life,

you'll be sorely disappointed.

No, that would be a
waste of both our time.

I am unable to save you
now, even if I wished to.

Our time together here is
but a momentary reprieve.

Well, dinna bother.

I prefer the noose
to yer company.

Is that true? Why?

Do I make you uncomfortable?

Do I haunt your dreams
since Fort William?

When you awaken in
the middle of the night,

shaken and sweating,

is it my face you see
looming in the darkness?

Tell me.

When you lie upon your wife

and her hands trace
the scars on your back,

do you ever think of me

and soften?

What is it you want
from me, Randall?

I want you to admit
the truth to yourself.

- And what would that be?
- That you escaped Fort William

but you did not escape me.

Surrender this pride
that you hide behind

and admit that even
now, you're terrified.

Admit it.

Admit that one simple thing and I
will give you something in return.

A final gift.

A gift?

The noose

is such an ignoble ending.

Give me what I ask

and I will give you the
death that you deserve.

Clean, honorable

and of your own choosing.

You could have a Roman death.

You could fall on
your sword like Brutus.

Or maybe a Greek demise.
Socrates took hemlock.

No.

Perhaps you do not want
to see my face at the end.

I understand.

I can simply slit your
throat from behind.

It's messy, but...

The choice is yours.

How will I ever choose?

But choose you must.

First, you must give
me your surrender.

Make no mistake.

I will have your surrender
before you leave this world.

Claire, we've looked
all over. There's no map.

Well, what good are keys

if we don't know
where he's being held?

Lass, we don't have the time.

I just need a few more minutes!

Thought I'd check in on
you, Mrs. Beauchamp,

make sure you're...

Tie him up and
hide him somewhere.

With a bit of luck, I'll
be able to find Jamie

- before the alarm is sounded.
- Wait for me. I'll come with you.

No.

If I get caught, I can say that

you quarreled with the
jailor and I fled for help.

Well, what will I tell
them at the gate?

Tell them that I sent you out
to get a gift for Sir Fletcher.

Remember, you work for an
Englishwoman of noble birth.

And you remember, ye've got less
than an hour before Sir Fletcher returns.

Meet me in the woods
behind the prison.

We'll be waiting for you.

Good luck to you, too, lass.

But if you two
can't give it a rest...

- Not likely, boyo.
- As you were.

- Jamie?
- Who's there?

Are you there?

I'll be yer Jamie,
lass, come and get me.

Let us out, lass.

Wait, come back.

Jamie?

Jamie!

Does anyone know where
I would find Jamie Fraser?

Not in here. Try down below.

That's where they keep those
of us that hanging's too good for.

Thank you.

All right.

I won't surrender.

To you

or any man.

I have to admit,

there is a part of me that
would be crestfallen if you did.

You know that every
man can be broken.

It's truly nothing
to be ashamed of.

Will you show me your back?

If it'll stop yer talking.

Hmm.

May I?

You're the broken one.

Ye're the one that sees
my face every night.

Idiot. You could
have killed him.

Get him up.

Do it, dog! Get him up.

I truly hoped to
spare you the noose.

Hold his wrist. Hold his wrist.

I would lay it
flat if I were you.

Why do you force me to treat
you in such an abominable way?

Why do you choose to
spend the few hours left to you

as a miserable cripple?

Why do you force me to hurt you?

Hmm?

You're better than this.

Wake up. Look at me.

Look at me.

There.

There you are.

Mmm-hmm.

Yes...

Yes, yes!

Hey, shh, hey.

There you are. Yes.

Can you feel that?

No. I'll kill you.

Can you feel that?
Shh, shh, shh, shh.

It's all right.

I could take you right now.

No.

I will not give in
to coarse passion.

If you'd only stop resisting me

I could make this so
much easier for you.

I'm here to help
you. Don't fight me.

Jamie? Jamie.

Claire, how did you...

You must leave.

- Randall will be coming back soon.
- Randall is here?

My God. What has he done to you?

Do not fash, Sassenach.

But you must leave.

No. Not without you.

Talk to me, Jamie.

Wake up.

Jamie? You must stay awake.

We're going to walk
out of here together.

Stay with me.

You truly have a gift

for showing up at the
most unexpected times.

You beast.

You can do better than that.

You fucking
sadistic piece of shit.

I should have slit your throat

when you were laying
unconscious at Fort William.

Yes.

I'm afraid you will come to
regret that small act of humanity.

You're no coward.

I will grant you that.

You're a fit match
for your husband

and I cannot give you a
better compliment than that.

The sweat of exertion.

Bravo.

This way. This door's open.

How dare you interrupt me

while I'm conducting
an interrogation?

Begging your pardon, Captain,

but we have reason to
believe that earlier today

that woman there was
involved in an escape attempt.

Well, now you found
her. Congratulations.

But since that is the prisoner
she had hoped to free,

you can see the... The
search can now be called off.

Please, you must
take me to Sir Fletcher.

He needs to be made aware
of what's going on in here.

Please.

Will the Captain allow us to
take the woman into custody?

No. No, he will not.

This woman is involved in a
rebel plot against His Majesty.

- God save the King.
- God save the King.

You tell you commander I
have the situation well in hand.

Yes, sir.

Now get out.

Hmm.

Search her for weapons.

Me, myself, I'm not in
the mood for cunt today.

But I imagine Marley here
would like to entertain you,

privately, in his quarters.

You wouldn't prefer to watch?

I may have what are
called unnatural tastes

but I do have some
aesthetic principles.

Hmm.

You are a very lovely woman,

shrewish tongue notwithstanding.

Do I want to see
you with Marley?

No.

I don't think I do
want to watch that.

Right, wake up. Your
presence is required.

Good Christ.

Are you watching?

Stop!

Make me a better offer.

Have me.

Let her go in safety
and you can have me.

I won't struggle. You
can do what you wish.

Jamie, no.

You have my word.

So, it becomes
a matter of trust.

Your word for mine.

Aye.

Will you allow me a
brief test of your sincerity?

Your hand. Lay
it upon the table.

No, the ruined one.

- No! Don't do it!
- Silence her, or I will.

Claire, please.

- No, no!
- Claire, no. No.

Shh.

I haven't even begun.

Shh.

Now kiss me.

Take her away.

We will remember this
moment for the rest of our lives.

Take her away.

No.

No, no!

No, let me say goodbye!

I can't leave you.

Yes, you will. Do as I say.

I love you, mo nighean donn.

I shall return shortly.

Walk.

I recently heard an
extraordinary rumor about you.

There was a trial
held at Cranesmuir.

You were accused
of being a witch.

Yes.

Witch I am.

And I curse you.

I curse you with
knowledge, Jack Randall.

I give you the hour

of your death.

Jonathan Wolverton Randall.

Born September 3rd, 1705.

Dies...

She's away safe?

Yes. You have my word.

It's a masterpiece.

How does it feel to be alive,

yet wear so much dead flesh?

Shall we begin?

Murtagh!

Willie!

Murtagh!

Anybody?

You shut your gab, woman.

Ye want to bring the
Redcoats down on us?

We have to go back for him.

Pitch dark and those
idlers still haven't returned.

Claire Fraser, this is
Sir Marcus MacRannoch,

a loyal friend to our clan.

This is his home
we're sheltering in.

Thank you.

We could use a
loyal friend right now.

Tell me, how many
men can you muster?

To rescue yer husband
from Wentworth Prison?

Tonight, if possible.

Or tomorrow morning
at the very latest.

None.

For it means risking the
Redcoats coming around afterwards

and leveling Eldridge
House to the ground.

No lass, I'm sorry.

Temporary shelter
I can offer ye,

but I'll not put my family
or myself in jeopardy.

I can pay you.

I wouldn't ask your men
to risk their lives for nothing.

A half dozen or so would
give us a fighting chance.

A dozen would give us
an even better chance.

Where did you get these, woman?

Fraser, you say your name was?

That's right.

My husband gave them
to me on our wedding night.

They're yours,
if you'll help us.

Did he indeed?

Ellen's son?

Your husband is
Ellen MacKenzie's son?

Aye, and ye'd ken it if you
saw him. He's the spit of her.

I gave these to Ellen
MacKenzie as a wedding gift.

I've thought of them so
often around her bonnie neck.

I wonder if she ever thought
of me while wearing them.

So, they're yours now.

You wear them in good health.

I'd stand a better
chance of doing that

if you'd help me get
my husband back.

Ah, I see.

But what I cannot see
is how it can be done.

I have a wife and three
bairns asleep upstairs.

I must look to their
protection. Aye.

I would do a bit
for Ellen's lad.

But it's a bit much you ask.

Well, that just
leaves the five of us.

It'll have to do.

I know how to get us inside.

I left the door open at
the rear of the prison.

An open door is
nay a plan, lass.

Anyone?

It gives me no
pleasure to say such...

Absalom! Man!

I sent you out at daybreak
to bring in 40 head of cattle!

What have you been
up to all that time?

Searching! All bloody day!

Well, ye sure as
shite didn't go thirsty.

How many did you bring in?

- Nineteen.
- Nineteen?

Nineteen out of 40?

What are ye, blind, man?
Is yer nose not working?

Nineteen cattle.

That's no small number.

And what the hell is so
funny about 21 missing cattle?

I know how we can
save young Jamie.