All language subtitles for lambs.of.god.s01e02.ahdtv.x264-futv

This is God's punishment
for breaking our vows!

We have to press on, or we'll
be stuck outside overnight!

Saint Joan! I see Saint Joan!

Carla! We must stay together!

This is the way!

I'll catch her.

Carla!

Margarita!

I woke

This mornin'

And I looked...

Iphigenia!

Iphigenia!

She's bleeding!

Let's get her up.

I know the way home.

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I have been clean nine months now.

Not even a drink.

Still smoking, though.

My boys are liking
being back home with me.

I guess the only thing that's...

really gotten under my skin is...

my brother, Ignatius.

He was supposed to come and visit.

He's a priest.

As you can imagine, he hasn't had
much time for someone like me but...

I'd reached out
and he had promised...

to come and stay
for a couple of days.

Finally meet my boys.

But he didn't show.

Didn't even call.

I guess I'm still being punished.

God grant me the serenity to
accept the things I cannot change...

the courage
to change the things I can...

and the wisdom
to know the difference.

Come on. Come on, quickly!

Gotta get inside, quick. Oh, god.

You have reached the mobile phone
of Father Ignatius Jones...

Jesus!

Bishop, I do appreciate
you taking my call.

It's just it's...
it's really not like him.

We had our differences

but he would have called me
if there'd been a change of plans.

Well, I'm sure there's nothing
to be alarmed about, my dear.

Ignatius is on church business
and may well have been waylaid.

- Well, have you heard from him?
- No, not for a week now.

But I did tell him to take a
well-earned holiday after his trip.

"Take a bathing suit," I told him.
"Head to the beach."

You do know Ignatius can't swim.

Not to worry.

I'm expecting him back Monday.

I'll make sure he calls you
on his return.

It's starting!

God bless you, my dear.

Damn, damn, damn!

Christe eleison

Christe eleison

Eleison

Eleison.

Ignatius.

- Water!
- Fetch some healing herbs.

Bring me water!

Water!

Sister, I don't think you're
nearly warm enough to be out.

Bring me water!

Bring me water!

Now remove my bonds
and bring me my phone!

Quiet, Father.

You're the one who forced us
to take your legs, by running away.

Don't make me take your voice too.

Alright. Come on. Come on.

My brother is more than
a little obsessive.

That's five text messages to confirm
his visit and his arrival times.

And he did check in to a hotel
in town - the Royal.

But he never came back.

- Do you have a gun?
- Ben!

No, I don't have a gun.

No gun? What kind of cop are you?

One who doesn't need a bloody gun.

I have this, though. Will that do?

Will you help me find my brother?

According to your schedule, he's
not due back at work until Monday.

So?

So technically, he's not
a missing person until then.

That's ridiculous.
By Monday, it could be too late!

Thanks, Joe.
Look, you've called the hospitals.

There's been no road accidents
reported this week.

Maybe your brother just
changed his mind about visiting.

You did say that the two of you

haven't been on the best of terms
for a while.

I know that something is wrong.

I'm going to need that back,
little man.

Let's talk Monday.

- But I'm sure he'll be back by then.
- You're a lazy prick.

Come on.

You know what kind of cop you are?

A shit one!

Got yourself a missing priest!

He's not missing till Monday, Jock.

Odd fish.

The priest?

Came in for a drink,
over a week ago now,

in the full frock -
wasn't even Sunday!

And did he say
what he was doing here?

No. He did ask directions
to the causeway, though.

Right. So he was headed
to the island, then?

Didn't say. Cagey bastard.

I did warn him, though, not to risk
the tides and take the car across.

Poison!

Put it over there, Carla.
It might be useful.

Margarita, would you
pass his case again?

Is this our island?

Where is the St Agnes monastery?

It seems as if we don't exist.

Devil!

I know what he wants to do
with our home.

"Connoisseur Hotels.

"The ultimate in discretion,
privacy and luxury.

"Accommodation for private
individuals and groups

"in mediaeval fortresses,
castles and monasteries."

I don't understand.

The bishop wants our home
as a hotel for rich people.

A hotel.

What is that?

A swimming pool.

What are those coloured drinks?

The pictures are so beautiful!

We are not in them. Look!

In such a world, we will not exist,

nor the Agnes Sisters.

He said they were to be
slaughtered, remember?

We cannot allow this to happen.

You will be
punished for this!

I am not stone!

I am flesh and blood!

If you listen, you can hear the sea.

Sleep.

Story?

A story to warm you.

Once there was a queen.

Despite her riches,

she had grown tired
of life inside her kingdom.

She wanted to see the world.

One day,

the queen set off across the sea.

But her ship was no match
for a wild storm...

and it foundered.

The sea closed over the ship,
leaving no trace.

But the queen was not dead.

Only sleeping.

When she did not return,

her king set out to find her...

in his big, black...

chariot.

Poor baby Moses.

No bulrushes to keep you warm.

Her king set off across the sea,

his big, black chariot just like...

Moses.

Yes, Moses.

Stretching out his hand
and dividing the waters.

He would awaken his queen...

and deliver her
to the promised land.

Where they would drink
very special, coloured drinks...

By your grace, save me.
Son of Grace, sanctify me.

..on a carpet the colour of blood.

Oh, you filthy whore!

You filthy whore!

You tempter of man!

I despise you and all your sex.

It reviles me
that a man should be born

between a woman's shit and piss!

God pronounced a curse on your sex,
for you are the devil's gateway!

You betray the laws of God!

Because of you,
the Son of God had to die!

A curse on all your whoring sex,

from Eve to Mary Magdalen,

to the Sisters of Saint Agnes!

A curse on all your whoring sex!

We are nuns.

It is not right
for a man to be in our midst.

If we release him now, he will
bring the wrath of men down upon us

and we will lose our home.

We could, perhaps...

Let him return to God?

There is another way.

I'm sorry for my outburst.

Father Ignatius,
you have strayed from God.

Which is why you would choose
to make our house a secular one.

A hotel and playground for the rich.

How do you know that?

God has sent you here

so that we can minister to you.

You may choose

to remain on this path
of damnation...

praying that you are rescued...

before Nature takes her course.

Or...

we can bring you into
the Order of St Agnes.

To learn our ways.

And become...

a sister.

Never.

Very well.

You have made your choice.

Wait. Wait right there.

Spinning wheel. Spindle.

Cards, combs and wool.

First, shearing,

then sorting, washing, carding,
combing and spinning.

You must learn each skill.

Will there be a test?

May I have a paper and pen
to take notes?

What if I fail?

Best you don't, Father.

Spindle.

Spindle bobbin shaft.

Pulley, treadle.

Today we will hear the story
of the first spinners.

Lachesis, who spins the past...

Clotho, who spins the present...

and Atropos, the future.

One is old, one is young

and one is in between.

Souls between one life and another

come before the spinsters to be
given the measure of their lot.

They must choose - a life of music,

devotion, love, wealth -

anything you can imagine.

The choice is irrevocable.

Once chosen, the Fates spin the lot
into a cocoon around the soul.

Lachesis gives fibre,

so that the soul's destiny
can be fulfilled.

Clotho turns the spindle,
to confirm the choice.

And Atropos twists the thread,

to make it unbreakable.

Then the thread is snipped off...

and the souls lay down to sleep

in the Sea of Forgetfulness...

waiting for the waters to part,

sending them up to be scattered
upon the face of the earth.

Awakening from their long sleep,

the soul's weave starts to unwind,

their story unfolding.

How does your story end,
Father Ignatius?

Ah, thank you so much
for coming, Sergeant.

We spoke on the phone.

Father Malachi. This way,
if you'd be so kind.

We will not be silenced!

The bishop is most anxious
to talk to you.

The car company called.

Ignatius's rental
hasn't been returned.

Ah, Sergeant Barnaby. Thank you
for travelling so far to meet with us.

No problem, your holiness.

Please, call me Bishop.

Your predecessor, Sergeant Molloy,
was a good friend to the Church.

Are you a churchgoing man,
Sergeant Barnaby?

Uh, no. No, I'm not.

Shall we get down to business?

May I ask, Bishop, why Ignatius
was in port with us?

Your sister mentioned
he was there on church business.

Yes, he was.

Right. And may I ask
what kind of business?

He was to assess
one of our properties.

On the island.
The St Agnes monastery.

You're well informed, Sergeant.

Uh, no, not really, Bishop.

Ignatius asked directions
to our causeway.

There's nothing else left
on the island.

The island's a harsh place, Bishop.

You know, the local people
say it's cursed.

Didn't the Church
burn witches there?

Old wives' tales.

I'm surprised you'd go for
such things, sergeant.

I have to ask, Bishop.

Father Ignatius wouldn't be
running from something?

An investigation, you know?

A scandal of some sort?

Ignatius is a good man
and a damn fine priest.

And I want him found.

And I'd appreciate you keeping
your investigations quiet,

so that others don't jump to the
same... uncharitable conclusions.

Right.

Well, perhaps we can start

with Ignatius's phone
and credit card records.

If you could fax them to the
station, that would be great.

Of course, Sergeant Barnaby.

Right, uh...

I'll be on my way.

Each knitted piece tells a story,

bright with meaning.

Our work is filled with memories of
stitches learnt across millennia.

It is a celebration of the
inventiveness of imagination

and contains within it the ribs
and cables of the knitters' own lives.

So, Father.
Well, it's time you learnt.

It's time you learnt to knit.

- Is this another test?
- No.

You will knit your own story.

So silky.

Your hair.

To be mixed with the wool
for your sacerdotal robes.

For when you become a sister.

Sister Margarita?

Left hand, like this.

Needle through the stitch,

loop around and over.

- Uh...
- Now you.

Try again.

I knitted.

I knitted something.

Yes. One whole stitch.

Have I offended her?

That's enough for today.

Thank you for a delicious dinner,
Sister Iphigenia.

Goodnight, Father Ignatius.

Some reading for you.

The story of St Agnes.

Thank you.

I have to admit,
I don't know her story.

Well...
she refused to be married off at 12,

because she was already
wedded to God.

So the Romans dragged her
to a brothel to be raped.

They tried to burn her at the stake
but the flames wouldn't touch her,

so they beheaded her.

I'll practise my knitting.

And I do appreciate all your lessons.
They've been illuminating.

Thank you, Sister Carla!

Just because you cannot find
the car, doesn't mean he's dead!

- I didn't say that.
- You have to keep looking for him.

Look, I'm just one man
with a patrol car.

You'd need a bloody helicopter
to search the coast properly!

Well, we could hire one,
from the tour company.

Right. And will you be funding that
private search-and-rescue operation?

Can't the church pay for it?

I don't they'd go for it, Frankie.

They don't want to draw any unwanted
attention to themselves,

not right now - not with
all the court cases.

Is that what they said?

One of their priests goes missing

but they can't afford
the bloody attention?

Frankie!

What are you...?

Who are you calling?

Bishop Malone, please.

Yes, it is urgent. Tell him
Ignatius's sister is on the line.

Are you always like this -
this pig-headed?

- Bishop Malone.
- You are.

- I am with Sergeant Barnaby...
- Don't tell him that.

..and he has said that
he will need a helicopter...

- I didn't say that.
- ..to help search for Ignatius.

Now, if the church will agree
to pay for it,

I'm sure the local tour company
could help out.

I'll have to
stop you there, Frankie.

Much as it pains me to say it,

the church really doesn't
have the resources

to fund such an endeavour right now.

What a shame.

Well, I suppose I could
appeal to the public.

Go to the press.

Although that may mean some awkward
questions for you, Bishop,

like why the church is trying
to hide the fact

one of their priests
has gone missing,

rather than actually help
try and find him.

May I bring in another colour now?

Of course.

Would you show me how to join it
with the rest, Sister Margarita?

Allow me, Father.

Thank you.

Story?

It's your turn, Iphigenia.

I'll tell a story, if you let me.

What stories do you know, Father?

Prodigal son.

That's a Bible story,
not a knitting story.

Let him tell it, Margarita.

There once was a man

who had several sons.

And his youngest,

knowing that he would inherit
a portion of his father's wealth...

asked if he could
have his share now.

The son gathered his belongings
and his money

and he made his way into the world.

And after many trials
and tribulations...

he found himself in a new land,

determined to make his fortune.

This land was wild and untamed.

There were many strange creatures
and people.

He soon found he could not leave.

He'd lost all
his father had given him

and he was reduced to nothing.

Lower than the beasts of the field
where he was obliged to sleep.

By and by,

the people of the land
saw his plight,

fed and clothed him...

and eventually...

they let him go.

When he came to his father's
house...

the servant said,
"There's a beggar at the door."

And the father came and saw his son
kneeling to beg for forgiveness,

in his strange new apparel.

"I have been wayward.

"I've gone out into the world and
lost the things you have given me.

"I have returned to be your servant.

"If you will not have me
in your house,

Then lodge me with your animals."

But the father did not
reject the son.

Wasteful, wilful child.

Margarita!

He should have been punished,

as a useless philanderer.

And why did the father
let him go in the first place?

Why did he not search for him?

- Protect him...
- Will you hold your tongue, sister?

- ..from this brutal world?
- Father Ignatius told his story well!

How dare you rebuke me?

I only ask you to be charitable
toward our new novice.

Novice!

Who ordained you abbess,

that you can bring new novices
into our order?!

It is not right

that he is here!

Please, sister!

What are you doing?

Nothing.

Why?

Thumping.

You were thumping.

I was itching.

I'm rotting down there,
under the plaster.

I'm enjoying our lessons.

And...

I did want to thank you
for defending me

against Sister Margarita.

Over my story.

I can smell your deceit, Ignatius.

Divide and conquer may have worked
for the British Empire

but you will not divide
the sisterhood.

You must pray for your salvation.

For your very soul.

You are the one
who needs to pray, Sister.

Holy Mother,
have mercy on me.

Cleanse me of my sins,

so that I may put on
the armour of God...

and fight against the wiles
of the devil.

Amen.

H-holy Mother, h-have...

have mer-mer... mercy on... on-on-on me.

Help... help me to fight...
fight... fight...

fight... against the w-wiles
of the d-devil

and the...

Sister Margarita!

Margarita, it's us!
Let us in.

Margarita!

..O mother of the Word Incarnate,

despise not my petitions

but in thy mercy, hear and answer me.

Digging day.

Carla.

Carla.

It's beautiful.

So are you.

How did you end up here?

I was left outside the gates
as a baby.

24 years ago.

You're 24?

One day my mother
will come back for me.

Who could ever leave you?

Carla! Worms.

Cook! Cook!

Who could leave me?

Not him.

I told you all God's creatures
could be tamed.

And I will tame him.

Oh, thank God!

Cook!

Come back!

Cover the fire!

Cook!

Don't be afraid!

Come back!

Cook!

Carla!

Stay here and watch him!

Carla!

You need to come! We have to hide!

Not without Sister Cook!

Come back!

Cook!

No! Cook! Cook!

Carla!

Cook, no!

Cook!

Carla!

Cook! No!

No!

No sign of the car.

We'll fly over the ruin.

See if he made it up there.

What...! Oh, dearest.

Sister Cook.

She fell. Broke her neck.

- Go, go, go!
- Quick!

Where is he?

What?

It was a gift. I'm so sorry.

He is to blame for this.

Not you.

Let's circle around again.
Get closer.

Oh! Wait here.

Give me the strength
to forgive.

But if vengeance be Thine,

O let me be worthy.

Let me be Thy sword, Thy vessel,

Thy avenging angel.

Drive away the evil men
who seek to take our home!

Hey! Over here!

Over here!

Hey!

Help us to stand against
the darkness of this world.

Behold, I send you forth a sheep
in the midst of wolves.

Be ye therefore wise as serpents
and harmless as doves.

Jesus! What was that?

But beware of men...

- No!
- ..because they will deliver you up

to the councils

- and scourge you in their synagogues.
- No!

Hey! I'm here!

No! No, we can't leave!

Are you fucking serious?!
Of course we're leaving!

No! No!

Stop. No!

Come back! I'm here!

I'm here! Come back!

Hey! Come back!

I'm here!

Come back! Come back here!

I'm here!

Give me your hand.

Come back!

I'm sorry.

No!

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