All language subtitles for Black Sails S01E01 I

Sir, she is still closing.
We simply cannot outrun her.

We must surrender
while we still can.

Gun crews! At the ready!

Gun crews! At the ready!

Go, go, go!

Come on!

What are you doing?

Sorry.

Why aren't you on deck
with the crew?

I think the better question is:
why aren't they all down here with us?

You get killed up there.

Oh, so you're a coward then?

Yeah?

You too?

I'm a coward, I'm a cook.

I've no quarters to man.

What do you think the Captain would do
if he found out you've abandoned yours?

Well, if he's dead
and I'm alive,

I like my chances.

Fire!

Starboard bow!

They shot the muskets!

Bear up, damn it!
You're short!

Bear up!

Sir!

They are out of our range!

Come on!

All crews!

Fire your -- !

Get down!

Do you know who that is up there?

That ship flies the
banner of Captain Flint.

Isn't this your problem too?

Good cooks are in short supply,

even for criminals.

But you,

cowering below decks,

dodging a fight?

They'll gut you for sport.

Give it up!

No!

What is that?

It's nothing.

That doesn't seem like nothing.

Maybe when Captain Flint
gets here, we can let him decide.

You wouldn't want to do that.

Huh?

Why not?

No!

Fall back!

Fall back!

Get down!

Close us in.

Sir, wait!

Mr. Bishop?

Muskets!

Are they ready?

Please, sir!

Please let me inside!

- Please let me in... !
- Move away from that door!

Move away from the door!

If we do not surrender now,
Flint will kill us all!

Please, sir,
o-open the door!

Open the -- !

It's done!

Wouldn't you agree?

Can't sell that.
Leave it here.

Nah.

Grow up.

What the fuck is this?

Where?

It's blocked, Mr. Gates.

Hello.

He couldn't handle the thought
of what you might do to him.

I,

on the other hand,
would

very much like
to join your crew.

My name is John Silver,

and I happen to
be a very good cook.

Know this.

Now that the fight is over,

you have nothing more to
fear from us today.

Because we know,

this fight was not
of your making.

It was the choice,

of our true enemy.

Your true enemy.

The tyrant Captain!

Many of us once sailed
on ships like this one.

We know what it is to
be slaves to his whims.

His violence.

His shit wages!

His insufferable stupidity!

So we've made for
ourselves a different life.

Where we don't rely on wages.

We own a stake.

And where our pleasure isn't a sin.

It's a virtue.

We also know
what it's like to see
our brothers die,

in the service of no end,

other than a tyrant's pride.

This one wants to join,

says he can cook.

Well, if he keeps that up, this one
won't be the only one looking to join.

Today is a new day.

Look at him.

Thinks he's Captain already.

Today their crimes
have been exposed.

And they will be punished!

We made a full sweep
of the hull.

We've found

eight more casks of whale oil.

That's all.

Total tally: 400.

... 5.

We managed to sell the tobacco.

Cameron's broken his arm.

Duffy's been shot in the leg.

After injury payments,
we will net...

... just under
eight dollars per man.

Eight dollars.

The crew will not be happy.

When are they ever.

When their end is a hell of
a lot richer than eight dollars.

Yeah.

Take a look.

Captain's log.

It's all there.

Vazquez.

Port Royal.

Told you this was the ship.

Where is the schedule?

Minor obstacle.

But we're getting close.

Let me see if I have this right.

This is the fourth prize in a row,

from which the profits
will barely exceed

the expenses
that it took to win it.

Singleton's out there
trying to convince your crew

to torture that poor bastard
of a Captain

simply 'cause he hasn't
worked out how to get them
to do it to you.

But all is well,

because you've discovered
that the information

we can't tell anybody
we're looking for,

exists on a page --

that we don't have.

Don't have, yet.

Mr Duffy is dead.

I removed the leg,
but --

he lost too much blood.

Cut his cock!

Is this necessary?

We paid a heavy toll today.

And for what?

We all know the prize
won't come close to evening
the scales.

Someone ought to pay
the difference.

Talk to me
about recruits.

What's he doing?

Just...

give him a minute.

Where's the schedule?

What are you
talking about?

The page that was
torn from your log.

If you know where it is,

now would be the time to say so.

Five?

You want to bring on
five more men?

A carpenter,
two carpenter's mates,

a gunner's mate
and the cook.

Hard to refuse
a skilled hand.

Is it their hands
you want?

Or their votes?

What a cunning bastard
you are.

Squarely in
the Captain's pocket,

yet you still got
the crew believing
you're their advocate.

Shrewdest Quartermaster
I've ever come across.

I wonder if you'll afford me
the same wide berth

you give that bastard

once I take his place.

You get the cook.

That's all the ship
can afford right now.

I told you,
I don't have it.

One of my men
must have taken it.

Everyone was searched.

Damn it, if I knew more,
I'd tell you.

Now call off
your men.

C'mon --
get off it!

Get back.

Pshaw.

You can't, can you?

You're their Captain,

but you have no
control over them.

How long before
you're the one they tie
to the mast?

I won't give you
the satisfaction
of crying out.

Good for you.

Where are you going?

Justice,

is about
to be done,

and you turn
your back.

Sail!

Man-o'-war.

Royal Navy.

The Scarborough.

Scarborough ports
in Boston.

Not today
she doesn't.

She's got
the wind of us.

Cut us loose.
Get us under way.

My Boots.

Randall.

We've, uh, taken on
a new cook.

Randall,

we were clear.
This...

job was only temporary.

There's still plenty
for you to do.

He'll be alright.

So, uh, both watches mess
together at six bells.

Don't be late.

Any supplies you need,
see Dufresne, and he'll --

fund you
out of the ship's
maintenance account.

Uh, one more thing.

No one gets any
special treatment
from you of any kind.

No extra rations,
no preferences
in cuts of meat.

Not for me,

not for the Quartermaster,

not for the Captain.

Here, every man is equal.

Alright?

Even him?

Randall was the ship's
boatswain

before he got beaten
to within an inch of his life
while taking a prize.

He lost his wits,

but not our loyalty.

We like Randall.

You,

we'll see.

He has the votes.

Beg pardon?

Singleton,

he has the votes
to remove you as Captain.

Not every last one.

Haven't finished
canvassing yet,

but when he gets ashore,

and he doesn't have
to be sneaky about it,

he'll get what he needs.

I thought you said it
would never get to this.

Now, hang on.

I thought you said
you put loyal men
in all the right places

so the crew would never turn.

No, no.

I never said never.

- I'm too old to be using that word...
- Don't give me that shit.

I told you there would
be some lean days

while we tracked
Parrish's ship.

You said the crew
would weather it.

Days.

Lean. Days.

It's been three months
with no profits to speak of

and nobody knows
what it's all been for

because you
don't trust them
with the truth.

I don't trust them
with the truth.

So, here we are.

Singleton.

They think he has
any idea how to put money
in their pockets?

All they know or care
about Singleton right now

is that he isn't you.

I just need
a few more days.

The page,
is gone.

It could be anywhere.

What makes you think
all you need is
a few more days?

I'm gonna go
and see Richard.

He can help me
recreate the schedule.

Richard Guthrie?

Mm-hmm.

You think
he's gonna help you?

Yes.

Yes, I do.

Let's just for fun

say that he doesn't.

What then?

Then I'll forget
about the schedule,

and go back to hunting
fat, lazy merchantmen,

and everyone
will be content.

This is one
of those times

where we pretend
that we both don't know
that you're lying.

Landfall.

We're home.

Is this English soil?

It was,
once.

Now it ain't.

Whose is it?

Ours.

Wait, I don't understand.
The Captain asked
for me to go?

Yes, in a manner
of speaking.

He doesn't know
I'm coming, does he?

No, but I have business here,
so the job falls to you.

And what
is the job exactly?

Captain's gonna ask
Richard Guthrie for a favour.

Mr. Guthrie
is going to say no.

When that happens,
the Captain will most
likely react poorly.

Your job is to
restrain him.

Restrain him,
you say?

No cargo moves off
this island

without Mr Guthrie's
ships and connections.

The last crew that
ran afoul of him

couldn't buy or sell shit
for two months.

That's an outcome
I'd like to avoid.

Wait.

He never
listens to me.

Nonsense.
You're a highly regarded
member of this crew.

And I can assure you
the Captain...

regards your input
more than you know.

Billy's
going with you.

Who's Billy?

What exactly
happens to all this?

It goes
to the Guthries.

They pay up front
for it,

take it some place civilized
and sell it.

The Guthries?

Mate, no offence,

but --

the faster
we get this loaded,

the faster I can
get up the hill

and into the arms of
my sweet, sweet Charlotte.

Your recipes?

I left them with our
Captain for safekeeping,

but I don't see them with
the rest of the journals.

All the volumes
from the prize are here

unless the Captain
took it.

In which case,
it's in his cabin
on the ship.

He likes his books.

Is that him?

Is this necessary?

He's just a cook.

He meets the new ones.
No exceptions.

Um, what's going on?

Who wants to meet me?

Blackbeard.

Whatever you do,

don't show fear.

You're not Blackbeard.

Oh.

I see.

If you get lost in there,
give us a yell.

Rules are rules.

And you,

are ours.

Mr Gates.

I need a moment
with your boss.

Not a good time.

Get the fuck out.

You want to run
at first sign of trouble,
be my guest,

but don't expect me
to fucking help you.

And that goes
for all of you.

If you want to hunt,
my door is open.

But if the mere
whiff of the Navy
is too much for you,

then God bless
and get the fuck out.

Fuck yourself, cunt.

Did you just
tell me to fuck myself?

Mr Scott,
who is this man?

Mr. Sanderson.

Crews with Captain Burgess
of the Trinity.

How much was
their last haul?

Nearly a thousand in profit.

Best tally in months.

Well, Mr Sanderson.

Pleased to be
in your company.

Do you know why?

Because you're
an earner.

Can I tell you what happens
when I stand near an earner?

My pussy gets wet.

In which case,

I will
go fuck myself.

Mistress Guthrie.

Now what the fuck
do you want?

I wish you'd get
control of your men.

They come in here
spouting off

they've seen
His Majesty's Navy
out there

and I have three crews
pulling orders

because they haven't
got enough balls to get
back in the water.

I'll make sure to keep
that in mind, ma'am,

but right now
the Scarborough is
the least of my concerns.

We have an agitator.

Fuck does that mean?

Challenger for the Captaincy
of the Walrus

capitalizing on our friend's
recent...

rough patch.

I expect him
to call a vote soon.

I expect it
to be close.

Flint's got morale problems.
What do you want me
to do about it?

I need money

to shore up support.

You want a loan?

Flint's made you more money
than any Captain here.

But lately he hasn't.

Yeah, well, that will change.

But mark my words,

without that money,
the most valuable Captain
on this island

will be out
of a job tomorrow.

Think of it as an...

investment
in the future.

You steal cargo
at the end of a sword.

We sell that cargo
to markets that will
never have you.

When you are strong,
you are a... necessary evil.

When you are not strong,
you are likely soon to be dead.

But what you are not ever

is a sound investment.

How much would you need?

Thousand pieces of eight,

give or take.

Take this to Virgil.

He'll see that you
get what you need.

Thank you, ma'am.

What?

I'm wondering what it is

exactly you think
you just purchased.

It's my money, isn't it?

Must I answer
for how I spend it?

To me,

no.

But this enterprise
belongs to your father.

And I do not believe
he would approve of this, uh...

investment.

Well, then I suppose
it's a good thing that
my father isn't here.

Mr Smith

to see Mr Guthrie.

He's not
expecting me.

What does the crew
think of me, Billy?

Beg your pardon?

You're the ship's
boatswain.

You know what's said
behind my back.

Um...

I know they've always
found me...

aloof,

too educated.

But now it seems
they feel I'm--

Too weak.

I was gonna say
unlucky.

So that's
the thinking.

We've been attacking ships
with light loads

because I'm too "weak"
to do otherwise.

Is that
what you think?

I...

What the hell
are you doing here?

Now is that any way
to greet a friend?

I much prefer that way.

A sugar factor,

from Carolina,

who purchases stolen
cargo from you,

because he trusts me,

because I have cultivated
his confidence.

And because I keep him
from ever having to lay
eyes on you.

Then the sooner we get down
to business, the better.

A whore for every finger
on your hand,

but your eyes
kept drifting to this.

Tell me,

what is it
that is so precious to you?

One scream will bring
Mr. Noonan.

Bring him.

I'll let him know
his whores like to steal
from their customers.

And he can let
your new Captain know

you have withheld something
of great value

that rightly belonged
to his latest prize.

So,

what now?

This is to sell,
is it not?

But you cannot know
who best to sell it to.

I could know that.

Hmm,

and what's that
going to cost me?

Half.

Pleasure should be
shared equally.

It's the only way
to avoid hurt feelings.

Look,

this... deal,

it's... really
a terrible idea.

There are so many
ways it could go wrong.

Me, I can't
help myself.

I see an opportunity,

I take it.

It's a sickness.

Truly.

But you,

you can
still walk away.

Bien.

Now tell me
what it is.

I don't know.

You're not going to throw
your support behind Singleton.

I wondered,

when this visit would come.

The vote is closer
than you think.

I know this,

because I brought
back sixteen votes today.

Nelson's men are
always for sale.

Paying Muldoon got me
the Welsh.

As of now, Singleton
is only up --

eight votes.

And you and your men

hold nine.

So...

The Captain's fate
is in our hands.

In your hands.

Your men vote with you.

And how much are you
willing to pay

for those votes?

Well...

nothing.

Spent everything I had
getting this far.

Hmm.

Think about your men.

Think about their future.

Is it their future
you wish to protect

or your friend's?

What difference
does it make?

And you will
pay us, obviously,

from the very first
prize we take.

I assumed that went
without saying.

You're in
a festive mood.

What do you want,
Rackham?

I'd hoped to toast
your coronation as Captain
of the Walrus.

Alas,

I'm not so sure
that's where we're headed.

You should keep
your distance till I signal
you to return for me.

If anything should happen
and I don't return soon--

I leave.

Smart girl.

Let me tell you a story,

about a Spaniard
named Vazquez.

A few weeks ago, he...

staggers into a
tavern on Port Royal.

Takes a seat next to
an English merchant Captain.

Vazquez, it turns out,
is dying.

Bleeding to death
from a knife wound
to the belly.

The knife wound
was courtesy

of his former employer,

La Casa del Contratación,
in Seville.

Colonial intelligence.

Naval,

more specifically.

One of their top agents
in the Americas.

Responsible for the security
of one particular ship.

A ship with a cargo
so rich,

the King of Spain

is very anxious
to see it launched.

Vazquez warned
that it was too late.

Storm season
was upon them

and no escort could
be mustered to guard her.

But his superiors
demanded that he sign off.

They advised him that if he
couldn't arrange for an escort,

he should plot a course
for the ship unknown to anyone
but her Captain

and consider that route
to be a state secret

of the highest order.

When Vazquez refused and threatened
to report his concerns to the court,

things got ugly.

The ship in question...

L'Urca de Lima.

The largest Spanish
treasure galleon

in the Americas.

According to Vazquez,

total cargo in excess

of five million dollars.

Marvellous story, Captain.

And how exactly
did you come to hear it?

A spy in my employ
in Port Royal

who overheard
the conversation.

I must admit,
I harboured my doubts

to its authenticity
right up until yesterday,

when I took the merchant
Captain's ship

and found Vazquez's story
neatly written into his log.

Most impressive.

It sounds like your plan
is neatly resolved.

What could you possibly
want of me?

Not quite
entirely resolved.

A page was torn
from the log

with the Urca's course
and schedule written on it.

Now I could recreate it
from what's left,

but I'd need help.

Someone with expert knowledge
of Spanish operations.

Your man in Havana.

I need you to make
an introduction.

Absolutely not.

Five...

million...

Spanish dollars.

When I take that ship,
you stand to gain--

When you take it?

Do you have idea
how heavily armed
that ship is?

Even without an escort.

The risk is all mine.

The risk
is not all yours.

If I were to even
make inquiries about this

with colonial intelligence,
they'd see me dead.

You may have
nothing to lose,

but I have
a future planned

I'm not so willing
to throw away.

Let me make
myself plain.

I will have that name.

Billy,

put your pistol
on Mr Guthrie here.

The name, please.

I'm telling you it is simply
out of the question.

Captain!

- Hold here.
- Aye, Captain.

What is it?

Captain Hume
of His Majesty's Ship
the Scarborough.

Captain Hume.

You've caught me
at business.

I must ask you
to return another day.

My apologies,
Mr. Guthrie.

May I ask

what sort of business?

I'm sorry?

I asked what sort
of business you're conducting
with these men.

Sugar merchants

from the colonies

with business
I'd just as soon conclude
without interruption.

So please,

if you'll excuse us.

Tell me something,
Mr Guthrie.

Do you have gossip here?

Gossip?

I've often wondered
if it can survive

in so remote
a location.

You see, gossip is what
holds civilization together.

It reinforces shame.

And without shame,
well,

the world is a very
dangerous place.

I'm sorry.

I don't understand.

Do you know what
the gossip is in London
about you?

The gossip is that
you make your profits

selling ill-gotten cargo

stolen by the pirates
of Providence Island.

There's no truth
to that.

We'll certainly
find out, won't we?

Take them into custody.

All of them.

You told me
you and your men
were with me.

You gave me your word.

I do what's best
for my family.

I'm what's best
for your family.

Flint has fucked us all
for long enough.

Can't you see that?

Captain Vane.

Do I even want to know?

It's been a long day.

But I am up one vote.

Looks like Flint is safe.

Mr Gates.

When he didn't return,

we came looking for him.

I found him here.

He said one word
before he died--

Vane.

Damn butcher.

Yeah, but did you figure
him for a clever one?

I know what
you're thinking.

And we'd lose that fight.

At least today.

Fuck that.

Eleanor.

Eleanor!

Awfully pleased
with himself, isn't he?

Why shouldn't he be?

With Mosiah gone,

Flint no longer holds
the votes to remain Captain.

Once the Walrus's men
realize Mr. Singleton's
limitations,

we'll have a host
of talented defectors
eager to swell our ranks.

And he only
gets stronger.

He doesn't get shit
without you bringing up

that Singleton business
in the first place.

Yes,

well,

we all have our roles to play.

I want to fuck.

What, because of what
I just said?

Fuck's it matter
to you?

Alright, then.

Ms Guthrie!

Ooh!

Now,

would you like
to tell me what that
was all about?

You fucked me
tonight.

Flint, his Captaincy,
I had an interest.

You'll live.

You'll make it right.

Why would I do that?

'Cause if you don't,
you're finished here.

I won't sell another
ounce of your cargo.

See how long you'll last
as Captain

when your crew
can't get paid.

Eleanor,

your father
sells my cargo.

Whatever it is
you're so upset about,

I doubt
he feels the same.

When I tell him
you put our biggest earner
out of business, he'll--

Remind you that Flint
hasn't been your biggest
earner in quite some time.

You'll also be reminded
of what you've always known
but never accepted,

that if forced,

your father will always
choose profits over daughters.

Hate your father?

I wouldn't blame you.

Hate me, too,
if you'd like.

And if you feel the need,

cling to Flint
and his legend,

and a past
the rest of us have
long outgrown.

But make no mistake
about it,

whatever future
this place has left,

I'm it.

And if you ever challenge me
again in front of my crew,

I may just forget
that I loved you once.

Have you found us
a buyer?

Patience, mon cher.

Few here are willing
to cross your Captain.

And those I have
in mind

must be approached
with caution.

Excuse me.

Who did this?

Him?

I started it.

Why would you
do this?

Please.

When the sea
grows rough,

you come to Max.

Max is your harbour.

It's all coming apart.

This place, I can
feel it slipping away...

Shh.

You are so ready
to see the worst.

You cannot see

what is right in front
of your nose.

The world is so full
of surprises.

Let it surprise you.

What are you doing?

I don't believe
any of the men have ever
met him face-to-face.

We'll need to find
a safe place to stash him

before he comes to
and starts talking.

But in the meantime,
I certainly don't want his
clothes giving him away.

You're gonna pretend that
isn't Richard Guthrie?

Soon word
of Guthrie's arrest

will hit the customs
houses of

Charleston, New York,

and eventually Boston.

Sooner than later,

Nassau will be unable

to sell to any legitimate
market in the Americas.

I don't want the men
panicked about that

when I need them
focused on the Urca.

Jesus.
Can you hear yourself?

You spent months

lying to us

about what it is
we're hunting out here.

And now when it's clear
it can't possibly succeed,

you want
to keep lying.

Maybe Singleton is right.

Maybe it's time
we made a change.

Think carefully.

What lies ahead, Mr. Singleton
cannot see you through.

And what is that?

There's a war
coming, Billy.

One ship isn't a war.

One ship
isn't what's coming.

That man Hume,

the Captain of the Scarborough
told you as much.

When a King
brands us pirates,

he doesn't mean
to make us adversaries.

He doesn't mean
to make us criminals.

He means
to make us monsters.

For that's the only way
his God-fearing,
taxpaying subjects

can make sense of men
who keep what is theirs
and fear no one.

When I say there's
a war coming,

I don't mean
with the Scarborough.

I don't mean
with King George,
or England.

Civilization is coming,

and it means
to exterminate us.

If we are
to survive,

we must unite
behind our own King.

We have no Kings here.

I am your King.

The crew is assembled
for council.

Mr. Singleton
has called for a vote

to select himself
as the new Captain

of this crew.

I need a minute.

What happened
with Richard?

Oh, Jesus.

I thought you said
you'd deal with this.

It fell through.

You need to figure out
what you're gonna
say to them.

They don't care about
anything I have to say.

Well, you need
to make 'em care!

Or I don't know
what happens next.

I can stall 'em
for a few more minutes.

And I am sorry.

I'm sorry.

For the short hauls.

For the trouble
I've caused.
But --

most importantly,
for the...

... disregard
it seems I've shown you.

The most important
element of a healthy ship

is trust.

Trust between men.

Trust between Captain
and crew.

Without it,

a ship is doomed.

For the past few months,

you and I
have been on the trail

of a prize so rich,

it could upset the very
nature of our world.

And for that reason,

I felt it necessary

to keep it secret.

I didn't trust you.

And that was my mistake.

Right now
I would like to tell you
that that prize

is within our grasp,

and we are close.

So close.

But it would appear
that my concerns

about secrecy
had merit.

Someone on this crew
discovered my plans...

and tore from this log
the very page

necessary to discover

that prize.

Stole it
for their own gain.

Stole it from us.

And then,

stoked your resentment
to cover his crime...

and make himself
your Captain.

What?

I don't know what
he's talking about.

That's a very serious
accusation, Captain.

Thievery is punishable
by death.

As is a false accusal
of the same.

Then,

as per the articles,

the accused
has a choice.

He can submit
to a trial.

With who as judge?

You?

No.

No fucking way.

Then swords.

Well, perhaps it's better
this way.

Be rid of you
once and for all.

Come on!

Come on,
Singleton!

Get up!

Come on!

Get him!

It's the stolen page.

Friends,

brothers...

the prize that you and I
have been pursuing...

is L'Urca de Lima.

The Hulk.

A prize of almost
unimaginable value.

Now with this page securely
in our possession,

we can begin our hunt.

And we will succeed

no matter the cost.

No matter the struggle.

I will see
that prize is yours.

I'm not just gonna
make you rich.

I'm not just gonna
make you strong.

I'm gonna make you
the Princes of the New World!

Flint! Flint! Flint! Flint!

Flint! Flint! Flint!

He's downstairs.

Can I help you?

Perhaps we can help
each other.

I think I have something
you might want to buy.