Original subtitles

HlGH SPARROW: Fire and blood make poor tools,

as kings make poor servants.

House Targaryen called themselves dragons long after the last beast died.

Perhaps it's only fitting that even their humility was monstrous.

Men worshipped on Visenya's Hill, thousands of years before Visenya came,

and Baelor raised the sanctum that bears his name.

The massive dome and towers of the Great Sept of Baelor

can be seen from anywhere in the city.

But not from the vast countryside that paid for it.

lts seven bells can be heard as far as Dragonstone,

whenever a king dies.

But none tolled for the stonemasons, glaziers, and smiths who built it.

The Great Sept was built to impress upon a man

how much greater the gods are than him.

A noble goal and, in that, it succeeds.

Within the main chamber, the sun streams through a seven-pointed star,

to illuminate the Seven, towering over mortals.

The Crone, with her lantern for lost souls.

The Mother, with her welcoming arms.

The Father, with his scales of justice.

The Maiden with her purity.

The Warrior with his sword.

The Smith with his hammer.

And lastly, the Stranger, with his shrouded face.

Pilgrims cross the Seven Kingdoms, to light candles here,

at the feet of their gods.

But these aren't the gods.

The Seven aren't encased in stone in the Great Sept

any more than the souls of dead kings are in the tombs below it.

To steward his monument to vanity,

Baelor summoned the High Septon of the Faith

from his ancient seat in Oldtown

and gifted him with ornate robes,

and a crown of crystal and gold.

And like a fool, the High Septon put on his lord's motley

and danced at his lord's table.

And with each passing year, the High Septons fell ever lower.

How can the flock be kept safe from wolves

when the shepherd sleeps in their den?

Baelor himself appointed a simple-minded stonemason,

believing him the Smith reborn.

And when he died, Baelor replaced him with an eight-year-old boy,

whom Baelor had seen speaking with doves,

that answered with the voices of the Seven.

Still, the common people revere Baelor, as the Blessed.

They tell of how he forced a high lord to wash a beggar's feet,

fasted to tame his unnatural lusts,

and walked the Boneway himself to make peace with Dorne.

Many septons and septas even claim that Baelor rescued his cousin,

the Dragonknight, from a snake pit,

because no viper would strike a man so pure and holy.

A lie.

Baelor was bitten a dozen times

and was bedridden for half a year.

And yet he didn't die.

Nor did his High Septons ruin the Faith.

Blessed Baelor's statue may greet men outside the doors,

but when men enter the Great Sept,

they don't see the gold

or the crystal

or the ambitions of a humble member of a powerful dynasty.

They see the gods.

They feel awe at the divine majesty

and their own insignificance.

The gods work through Baelor's pride and vanity,

as they work through all of us.

For the Faith is more than a sept.

The Faith is more than a High Septon,

more than all the septons and septas who preach to the living.

More than the Silent Sisters, who prepare the dead.

The Faith is the will of the gods.

And we are all its instruments.

Kings and beggars, lords and cobblers.

Lions and sparrows.