All language subtitles for Carnival.Row.S01E05

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(steam whistle blows)

(indistinct chatter)

MILLWORTHY:
But the evil was not over.

Before the poor fae's body
was cold,

the headmaster was struck down.

And so, there were two lives

cut short before their time,

both man and fae,

their fates entwined
by a death most cruel,

delivered by a fiend most foul.

(audience gasps)

(creature snarling)

-(hisses)
-(audience gasps)

But will they get
the justice they deserve?

Only time will tell.

But of this much
we may be certain:

that each, in their own way,

earned their eternal reward.

(audience gasps)

MILLWORTHY:
Good Master Finch

bathes in the light
of the Martyr

he served all his days.

And Aisling...

sweet, sweet Aisling,

entertains the seraphim
with her song.

(voxograph whirs)

(Aisling vocalizing
on voxograph)

(audience murmuring quietly)

♪ Now rest you there ♪

♪ In spite of the storm ♪

♪ That is raging ♪

♪ Faith goes and comes ♪

♪ As long as the seasons
are changing ♪

♪ I'm sure there is
a safe valley ♪

♪ For you and for me. ♪

MILLWORTHY:
Thank you so much. Oh.

(stammers)
Moira.

So...

This is it, is it?

(exhales)

Your humble little
theatrical troupe?

-I'm afraid so. It's, um...
-(Gimmly chirrups)

-(Moira and Millworthy chuckle)
-(chirping)

I thought the show was lovely.

Really?
I'm so glad you liked it.

-(chuckles)
-(Gimmly chirps)

-What's all this, then?
-Uh...

Oh...
Is there a problem, Constable?

Well, it depends.
Let's see your permit.

-Permit?
-Well, it's a public street,
isn't it?

Leave him alone, would you?

And I'll need to see
their papers.

(kobolds chirping)

(horse whinnies)

(men chatting)

HARUSPEX:
This lichen's gone yellow.

I'll give you ten stivers
for the whole lot.

Off with you.

Thieving witch.

Back this soon?

Yes, I am.

(door closes)

What does this say?

"Repository of secrets."

The liver holds multitudes...

for those who know how to see.

Do you have something
to show me or not?

(squealing)

(high-pitched squealing)

By the Martyr.

(chuckling):
Oh, anything but.

So it's true, then?

A dead thing
can be raised to life

and joined with another.

-As your own eyes can attest.
-(screeches)

The thing I saw
the other night, it had...

intelligence.

-I could sense it somehow.
-No.

What you sensed...

was the intelligence behind it.

The Darkasher
has no thoughts of its own.

Only those of its master.

-(creature squeals)
-They say...

that sometimes its eyes
and its master's eyes

can become as one and the same.

(creature squeals)

(exhales)
Who here in the Burgue,

besides yourself,
would have such knowledge?

That, I cannot say.

But to conjure the thing
that I saw

would take skills
even beyond my own.

(squealing)

Put it out of its misery.

(screeches)

It cannot be killed,
not while you still breathe.

Then put it in a jar.

(scoffs)

(steam whistle blows)

(knocking)

Am I interrupting?

I'm looking over the loan, dear.

I will need your signature

to authorize the lien
on the house.

What if I told you
I know someone

who's interested in investing
in this venture of yours?

My sweet sister,
I-I cannot tell you

how much it warms me
you wish to support me in this.

That said, I do not have time
to pursue idle chatter

from Louisa Pembroke
or some such person

that her second cousin
twice re...

Oh, no, this is no idle chatter.

This individual
has the wherewithal

to fund the furbishment
of a ship in its entirety.

Well, then, yes, I-I...

I'd be very pleased
to make his acquaintance.

What share of the profits
would he be after, I wonder?

It is not a share
of the profits he seeks.

Rather, acceptance
into our social circle.

I speak, of course, of the Puck
across the street, Mr. Agreus.

How would you know
how much money he has

or how he would deign
to spend it?

He took tea here the other day
while you were at the club.

I... I beg your pardon?

And he will be our guest
again this afternoon,

along with the Pembrokes
and the Guilfoyles.

Uh, that is impossible.
And it goes without saying...

-(bangs table)
-What is impossible,
dear brother,

is for you to secure
my signature on a document

that endangers the very roof
over our heads...

I will not negotiate
with my own fam...

Not when there's another way
out of our predicament.

One that will cost us nothing
save a measure of pride.

It would be a scandal, Imogen.

-One the Spurnrose name
has the strength to endure.
-(chuckles)

We would stand stronger
together, to be sure,

but I will host the Puck alone
if I must.

Oh, will you, now?

In either way,
you will take his money.

I won't let you
put this house at risk,

not as long
as I still draw breath.

Our guests are expected
at half past 3:00.

I hope to see you here
to greet them.

Imogen? Imogen!

♪ ♪

Good morning, Father. Mother.

-Good morning, Jonah.
-Morning.

Your father has something
he wants to say to you.

Hmm. Indeed I do.

As pleased as we are, of course,
to have you home again,

we need to discuss
what happened.

More than discuss.
There need to be consequences.

Consequences?

I was the victim here.

-The boy makes a good point.
-But none of this
would've happened

if he'd done as you told him
and stayed off the Row.

True, but let's not forget
that in the end,

these unfortunate events
did expose

Longerbane's treachery.

(exhales)

It's time for Jonah
to put away childish things

-and take hold of his future.
-Please, Mother,
not the prophecy again.

-Naked and covered with ash,
I scaled Mount Carpe.
-Piety. Piety.

On my hands and knees I climbed

to consult the Augurs
before I married your father.

And they told me
that he would be a great man

and that his son
would be greater.

Yes, yes, we know.

If your father is chancellor,
just think

what the fates
have in store for you.

Maybe I'm to be crowned king.

It's not impossible.

Monarchies have been
restored before.

Do you see now, Father?

Do you see how,
no matter what I do,

it will never be enough for her?

Everything your mother
says and does,

she does out of love for you,
that much I do know.

How I wish I could believe that.

Jonah.

Apologize at once.

I'm sorry, Mother.

ABSALOM:
There. See?

He's sorry.

Your father and I have decided
that for the time being,

you're to take a respite
from the public eye

and stay home to concentrate
on your studies.

ABSALOM:
Give the scandal a chance
to die down.

Tongues will stop wagging
soon enough.

And in the meantime,

-by doubling your hours
of tutelage...
-Doubling?

...you may very well

complete your course of study
by next Austery.

Master Symes is waiting for you
in the library.

(indistinct chatter)

(dog barking in distance)

♪ ♪

Something to eat?

Take it.

It's freely given.

Much obliged.

Take one of these, too.

The Cyphers. Do you know it?

Me mum read me stories from it
when I was a bairn.

Bless her. You might want to
read it for yourself, though.

You might be surprised
by what you find.

(grunts)

MILLWORTHY:
I don't believe this.

"All fae, whether native born
or alien, are required

to show papers upon request."

-Since when?
-Since ten years at least.

They can't be here,
not without papers.

Well, they are here now.

Well, they're gonna
have to go, then.

-Where?
-Back where they came from.

Knock?
It's been totally destroyed.

-There's absolutely
nothing left.
-Sir!

"All fae, whether
native born or alien,

-are required to show..."
-But what if they're not fae?

What else would they be?

Pets?

(chittering)

But they're smart.

They're not that smart.

(chittering)

(sighs)
Truth be told,

I can't recall whether kobolds
are specifically

mentioned in the statute
or not.

Oh, well, why don't you go
and check your statute,

-and w-we'll just wait there.
-All right, all right.

But you could be opening
yourself up to charges

of transporting an animal
without a license.

I'm prepared to pay any fine
that's required of me.

Just have a seat there,
and keep 'em inside that box.

Thank you so much, Officer.

(chittering)

I think we're going to be

absolutely fine.

Ugh. Kobolds.

FLUTE:
I fucking knew it was
the wrong time to be away.

And the missus wasn't too happy
to cut short our holiday

on account of this fucking mess.

Tell me you've made progress.

The headmaster was killed
by the same hand as the fae

that was found dead
off the Row the other day.

How do you know
it was the same killer, then?

Did that Puck
that you brought in

to do her autopsy tell you that?

-What Puck?
-A butcher from the Row.

He was a physician in Puyan.

(chuckling):
Well, in that case...

Took both their fucking livers.

Proof enough for you?

Their livers?

W-Was it some kind
of trophy, maybe?

Could be.

All right, well,
keep me informed.

Dombey, with me.

Why didn't you tell him about
the Darkasher business?

They wouldn't believe me
any more than you do.

Anyway, it's not
the thing itself,

but it's whoever's
controlling it that we want.

Somebody wanted them both dead.

(door bangs shut)

(wind whistling)

(bell tolling)

(indistinct children's chatter)

(footsteps scampering)

Rycroft.

Look at you.

I still can't believe it.

An inspector with
the constabulary.

If only poor Master Finch
could've seen

the man you've become,
he would've been so proud.

Thank you, sir.

Tell me, are you any closer
to apprehending

whoever did this terrible thing?

That's why I'm here.

Did you ever see the headmaster
with this fae?

Aisling Querelle.

I've never seen her before, no.

Any idea if he might have
known her?

Who am I to say?

His colleague and his friend.

I've never seen her before.
I'm sorry.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I need to attend to several
pressing matters.

Do feel free to have
a look about.

(wind whistling)

(steam whistle blowing
in distance)

(children's chatter in distance)

(children's chatter
continues in distance)

(bed squeaking)

(children's laughter)

BOY:
I can fly.
Look at me, Darius. I can fly.

(laughter continues)

I can fly, Darius.

(laughter, indistinct chatter)

-(loud thud)
-(groans)

CHILD:
Are you all right, Philo?

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

AISLING:
♪ Lora lie lo ♪

♪ Lora lie lay ♪

♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪

♪ Lay, lay ♪

♪ Lora lie lo ♪

♪ Lora lie lay ♪

♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪

♪ Lay, lay. ♪

♪ ♪

Everything must be perfect.

Louisa Pembroke can sneer that
I invited a Puck all she wants,

but the harken cake must be
above reproach.

My harken cake is the best
in the Crossing,

and you well know it.

(gasps)
I'll miss me lots!

(sniffs)

Please, miss.

-Vignette.
-Afissa.

I'll take that for you
if you like.

So you're running the lots now?

They gave me
the Finistere route.

You told me to find a life
for myself.

I didn't mean the Black Raven.

Those fae'll slit your throat
soon as look at you twice.

I'll watch my back.
Don't you worry.

Well, you're not one to suffer
any guff, I'll give you that.

(carriage approaching)

I'd better get back inside.

Good luck to you, girl.

-Good luck to you, too.
-(chuckles)

I'll win, one of these days.

(sniffs)

This way, please.

Mr. and Miss Guilfoyle.

Pierce, Hortensia, do come in.

How long has it been?
Feels like ages.

Be a good man, won't you,

and fetch that straight-back
chair for these old bones.

Mr. Agreus is not employed here.

He is a guest.

I'm very pleased to make your
acquaintance, Mr. Guilfoyle.

And happy to oblige.

This damp weather does no favors
for anyone's bones,

old or young.

Here you are.

Most kind.

Mr. Agreus is our new neighbor.

He recently took ownership of
Cheswith House across the way.

How extraordinary.

It is an extraordinary property.
You're quite right.

I was fortunate it came
on the market when it did.

(Imogen chuckles)

-(doorbell rings)
-More guests?

Louisa and Leonid Pembroke.

(quietly):
Oh, thank the Martyr.

Indeed.
The more, the merrier.

(door opens)

Master and Miss Pembroke.

Is it a game?

Are we meant to dress up as help
and serve the servants?

(Leonid laughs softly)

(awkward laughter)

Mr. Agreus is not
an employee here.

He's a guest.

What a pleasure, Mr. Agreus.

I'm Leonid Pembroke.
This is my sister, Louisa.

Is that your Afissa's
harken cake?

-I've been craving
a slice all week.
-Yes. Oh, please sit.

I would very much like
to hear your opinion

on our city's recent troubles,
Mr. Agreus.

She baked it special for you.

I imagine you were
no more grieved than I was

to hear of Ritter Longerbane's
well-deserved comeuppance.

And why do you suppose
that would be?

Oh, his antipathy to your kind,
beyond reason.

Well, I have to wonder
whether the thousands

that have lost their job
because my kind

are willing to work for less
would agree.

(awkward chuckle) Well, s-surely
sacrifices have to be made

in order to-to create
a more inclusive society.

Have you ever been to Puyan,
Mr. Pembroke?

(laughing):
I should think not.

I mean, you could go
months there

without encountering anyone
that wasn't a Puck.

Not a Trow or a Pix in sight,
much less a man.

And I can assure you
that no one there

gives even the slightest thought

towards creating a more...
inclusive society.

Well, it's not as if anyone
would care to live there.

(laughter)

Not since the war, in any event.

I know I don't.

Which is how I find myself here,

in such fine company.

(clock ticking loudly)

(throat clears)

Harken cake, anyone?

(bell tolling)

(drops book in box, closes box)

♪ ♪

(young Philo praying
indistinctly)

...and may bathe forever
in your light,

O blessed Martyr.

FINCH:
Very good, Rycroft.

Now, ask the Martyr
to protect your secret,

to hide the truth of
the fae blood in your veins.

YOUNG PHILO:
I will, sir. I'll pray.

Master Thorne.

You're still here.

I was just remembering
something you taught me.

Oh?

That sins of omission
are far more dangerous

than sins of commission.

Because they're easier
to get away with.

What made you think of that?

I can't help feeling
there's something

you haven't been
entirely truthful about.

You think I've lied to you?

I think you've chosen
not to tell me something.

A sin of omission, as you say.

Easy enough to get away with.

Just tell me I'm wrong,
and I'll be on my way.

Today would've been
Costin's night off.

After the boys had suppered
and he'd led last prayers,

he would've dressed his best,

like he did every Gullsday
for as long as I knew him,

and taken a carriage to the Row.

The Row?

I've never known a finer man
than Costin Finch,

but he did succumb
to the appetites of the flesh.

You saying...

He frequented a certain
house of ill repute

well-known for providing...

fae companionship.

It's repellent
to contemplate, I know,

but there you have it.

♪ ♪

Thank you for being forthcoming.

It could mean everything
to this case.

Is there a reason
you had to make this harder

than it already is?

He was only trying to be polite.

I won't be condescended to.

(whispering): What could've
possibly got into her?

She's always been
a bit off, hasn't she?

I'm sorry, I can't do this.

I thought I could weather
their disapproval,

but I see now
I haven't the strength.

-We had an agreement.
-Please,

make your excuses and go.

And what will you tell them?

That it was just a game
after all?

A joke?

I have clearly failed to uphold

my end of the bargain.

I understand that I cannot
expect you to uphold yours.

I should've known you wouldn't
have the mettle for this.

(sets cup down)

I am more than happy
to return you to poverty.

-Miss Imogen.
-(door opens)

EZRA:
Ah.

I am so sorry I'm late.

I was held up
with my solicitors.

Mr. Agreus,

pleasure to meet you again.

Welcome to our home.

Please take a seat.

♪ ♪

If you're to complete your
course of study by Austery,

you'll need tutors
in every field of knowledge.

-Lucky me.
-What's that?

-I said I'll leave that to you.
-Quite so.

In the meantime, the best way
to learn about politics

is to witness it for yourself.

And there's no greater
practitioner than your father.

(applause, indistinct chatter)

Who's that?

Longerbane's daughter, Sophie.

As his sole living heir,

she'll fill his seat
until the next election.

It's just a formality, really.

She'll take her oath,
mouth some platitudes,

and that'll likely be
the last we see of her.

(bell clanging)

Gentlemen and gentle ladies
of Parliament,

I stand before you brokenhearted

by the loss of my father.

He was a great man,

and I will endeavor
to make him proud.

(light laughter, murmuring)

Dear girl,
I am sure that, like myself,

you are eager to put
behind us the rancor

that has led us
to this juncture.

Thank you for your words.

Now, if I may,

I'd like to turn my fellow
proctors' attention to...

I wasn't finished, Chancellor.

(quiet murmuring)

ABSALOM:
By all means.

Continue.

(scattered coughs)

It is not only

my father's memory
I wish to honor,

but my mother's, too.

Her desert blood
was written on her face

surely as it is written on mine.

Her forefathers fled the chaos
of war in the Pharaonic Coast

and came to these shores,

where the color of their skin

made them outcasts.

But, like so many others,

they overcame the prejudices
of that time

and found a place
in this great city.

And that speaks well
of the Burgue and its values.

(applause)

Today,

the chaos of war
in the lands of the fae

has brought a new wave
of refugees to these shores.

And they, too,
are seen as outcasts.

It is right to ask

if our suspicions
of these newcomers

will one day be seen as
a benighted vestige of the past.

It is right to ask
if we can overcome

the differences
between us and the fae

that rear our children,

plow our fields,
work our factories.

Hear, hear.

-(pounding)
-OTHERS: Hear, hear.

(whispers): By the Martyr,
she's turning on her own father.

I stand before you
with my answer.

-We cannot.
-(cheering)

The fae are

-nothing like us.
-(cheering)

Our differences
are more than skin deep,

and our chancellor

has turned a blind eye

for far too long,

but I will not.

A great tide of anger
is rising in this city.

Its good people have had enough!

-(cheering)
-MAN: Yes! Yes!

And I, Sophie Longerbane,

-stand with them.
-(cheering)

Who will stand with me?

(cheering)

(clamoring)

(chanting):
Longerbane! Longerbane!

Longerbane!

By the Martyr,

she's the most magnificent
creature I've ever laid eyes on.

-(piano playing)
-(festive chatter)

Ah, thank you.

I think I got this right.
Have a look.

Hmm?

Yeah, that looks right to me.

Last three digits
are six, eight, nine.

That's the number, then.

(sighs) Let's see
if I've got any winners.

(knock on door)

Sun's down. It's showtime.

(clears throat)
She's still here?

Just till she gets
back on her feet.

She doesn't have much meat
on her bones, does she?

Well, some men like that,
I suppose.

Oh, she's-she's not looking
for a job here.

Please.

All right, she can stay.

For a bit.

As long as she doesn't get in
the way of business, Tourmaline.

Fair enough.

-Thank you, Moira.
-Thank you.

-(door closes)
-(sighs)

Any winners?

Mm, not today.

Okay. Come on, then.

Go away. Girl's got to work.

Right.

I'll go deliver the skim.
Kill some time.

Maybe come back around 2:00
with some food?

Mm. Perfect.

(laughing)

I suppose I should try not
to get too used to this.

(laughter, indistinct chatter)

What are you doing here?

Don't worry.

-It's police business.
-Right.

-I've got to work, too.
-Be careful.

(scoffs)
Like you give a shit.

How can I help?

This man was a client here.

You're a copper.

I need to speak
to his regular girl.

My clients expect
confidentiality.

Not this one. He's dead.

Costin's dead?

Murder.

Who was his girl?

It's a little more
complicated than that.

Come on.

For as long as I can remember,

Costin would book
a room with two girls

each Gullsday night.

The bed would be put to work.

The girls weren't.

Go on.

He preferred people thinking
he had a taste for Pix whores

to them knowing the truth.

That he was meeting
with another man's woman?

That he was meeting...

with another man.

MAN:
You must think it foolish of me,

coming to an empty room
to say goodbye.

This was the only place
we could ever feel safe.

We stood over his body together.

You gave nothing away.

When you've lived with a secret
as long as I have,

you'd be amazed
what you can hide.

Still, there's always the shame.

Fear of being discovered.

It's strange.

We only had one night a week

when we could be
who we truly were.

So little time
in the scheme of things,

yet somehow it's the rest
of it that...

Feels like a lie.

Yes.

There's something I should've
told you the other day

when we were in the morgue.

Costin knew Aisling.

They met a long time ago,
before he took his vows.

They were close then.

He must've seen her perform
a dozen times.

Hmm.

So the murders
are connected somehow.

So it would seem.

It's hard to see how.

They hadn't spoken in 20 years,
at least as far as I'm aware.

(sighs)

Thank you, Doctor.

And know this--

your secret's safe with me.

Maybe it's time
I stopped hiding.

Time will tell
if I've the courage.

MAN:
Fucking Critch.

MAN 2:
Piece of shite.

(quiet chatter)

I read it. Front to back.

Tell me,
I want to know everything.

(door bangs open)

Uh... Well, excuse me.

Excuse me!

-Can I help you?
-Yeah, where are my kobolds?

Kobolds?

Yeah, they were in a case
on the bench.

Where are they?

Right.

-Packed them off already.
-Uh, no, no, no, no, no.

The constable was just going
to check their status.

That was all.

All I know is there was
a deportation order.

-What?
-Here, somewhere.

Yeah, here it is. Right.

See?

Hang on a minute. You're right.

"Order pending status check."

-Didn't see that bit.
-Yeah, so where are they?

Packed them off, like I said.
To the docks.

-To the docks?
-For deportation.

Ship bound to... Ignota.

Would've left by now,
I should think.

So what's it called?

-What?
-The ship.

-What's its name?
-Get your hands off me!

Tell me what its name is.
What's its name?!

♪ ♪

(indistinct chatter)

(panting)

(quietly):
Janus.

(man exclaims)

The Janus, where's she docked?

-The Janus?
-Janus?

-The boat. The ship.
-Oh, the ship.

-Yeah.
-Yeah, sh-she, uh...
she set sail a few minutes ago.

-What?
-(chuckling): Yeah.

It's gone.

No!

No!

Oh, no!

(exhales)

♪ ♪

It's blood money.
That's what it is.

No one's died.

If we managed to muddle through
this afternoon,

it's only because our guests
were too polite to do otherwise.

And to think,

the story of the Puck who came
to tea at the Spurnroses'

is spreading like poison
even now.

We can weather this
if we stand together.

Well, he will want more
than an invitation for tea

for this amount.

Naturally.

I'll need to be seen
with him in public,

on several occasions at least.

And where does it end?

When someone else extends him
a proper invitation,

-I suppose.
-(chuckles)

Now, thank the Martyr,

Father is not here
to see how low we've sunk.

If Father were here,
none of this

would be necessary, would it?

(drawer opens)

I'm going to bed. Good night.

Good night.

Ezra?

Yes?

Thank you.

♪ ♪

Good girl.

Good girl, Giddy.

♪ ♪

(Aisling vocalizing faintly)

(crying)

-(snipping)
-(screeches)

(exhales)

What time is it?

(sniffs)

(exhales)

God's noose, I fell asleep.

(panting)

Good night.

PHILO:
She was a singer
back in the day.

She had a voice.

Haunting.

Can't get it out of my head.

♪ ♪

(Aisling vocalizing
on voxograph)

♪ Now rest you there ♪

♪ In spite of the storm
that is raging ♪

♪ Faith goes and comes
as long as the seasons... ♪

-(thud)
-(music stops)

(Giddy whimpering in distance)

Giddy?

Giddy.

Giddy.

Giddy.

(creaking)

Giddy?

(grunts, whimpers)

(yells)

(panting)

(creature growling)

(whimpering)

(snarling)

(screams)

(voxograph crackles)

(Aisling vocalizing
on voxograph)

♪ Lora lie lo ♪

♪ Lora lie lay ♪

♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪

♪ Lay, lay ♪

♪ Lora lie lo ♪

♪ Lora lie lay ♪

♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪

♪ Lay, lay ♪

♪ I'll fly for you ♪

♪ My child, my son ♪

♪ Sweet dreams to you ♪

♪ My only one ♪

♪ I'll fly for you ♪

♪ My child, my son ♪

♪ Sweet dreams, my only one ♪

♪ Lora lie lo ♪

♪ Lora lie lay ♪

♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪

♪ Lay, lay ♪

♪ Lora lie lo ♪

♪ Lora lie lay ♪

♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪

♪ Lay, lay ♪

♪ I'll fly for you ♪

♪ My child, my son ♪

♪ Sweet dreams to you ♪

♪ My only one ♪

♪ I'll fly for you ♪

♪ My child, my son ♪

♪ Sweet dreams to you ♪

♪ My only one ♪

♪ I'll fly for you ♪

♪ My child, my son ♪

♪ Sweet dreams, my only one ♪

♪ Lora lie lo ♪

♪ Lora lie lay ♪

♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪

♪ Lay, lay ♪

♪ Lora lie lo ♪

♪ Lora lie lay ♪

♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪

♪ Lay, lay. ♪