All language subtitles for Pennyworth.S01E09.Alma.Cogan.720p.AMZN.WEBRip.DDP5.1.x264-NTG

Will you come with me?

To London?
Both of you?

- Really?
- Well, I have a battle ahead.

I'll need loyal friends.

My God.
James.

Hello, Frances.

- Public rally?
- What can she say

or do at a public rally that
warrants the risk of arrest?

Lord James Harwood.

Send in the heavy brigade.

Arrest everyone.

Stop!

Harwood's a national sensation.

A hero.

Well, what are we
going to do, then?

If the queen should
prove to be reluctant,

then we will need
to find an alternative.

We will need to find
a replacement.

Their Graces

the Duke and Duchess
of Windermere.

Ah.

Welcome,
sir, ma'am.

You knew who killed Esme,
and you covered it up.

Protect my son,

and I promise you
my vote.

Count to three.

Shoot him now.

His father
has political clout.

You know the rest.

I just need
to raise my finger.

Well, go ahead.
Raise your finger.

Don't you...

dare.

My-my family will...

Sorry, love.

I'm afraid this is
gonna create a lot of trouble.

For all of us.

- No?
- No.

I'm gonna ask you
one more time.

And this is your last chance
to answer truthfully.

No more chances.

Who was your accomplice

in the unlawful killing
of John Curzon?

Just give us a name.

No.

Alfred, I can't help you
if you won't help yourself.

No offense, Mr. Aziz,
but your help

hasn't been very helpful
so far, has it?

You're not dead.

I should say
that's jolly helpful.

You were there.
You saw it.

She saved my life
fair and square.

A man can't grass on someone
who saved his life, now, can he?

Fair play.

Your sense of honor
is admirable.

Your lust for vengeance,
on the other hand,

might well bring down
the government.

The PM wants you
buried alive.

You're to have
no trial, no jury.

You're to be thrown
in the dungeons and forgotten.

You need a friend.

I need a name.

I did say I'd make trouble.

Can't say I didn't warn you.

Let him say goodbye
to his parents.

Then take him downstairs
to be sentenced.

What, they're here?

Since we took you in.

I'm sorry, Mum.

She knows you are, son.

My poor baby.

Not now, Mother.

I'll be all right.

Oh, dear.

Everything's going wrong.

What's to become of us?

Mother, we agreed not to burden
the boy with our worries.

Let him know we'll-we'll
be strong for him, eh?

Yeah. Yeah.

I'm sorry, love.

Oh, don't say
sorry, Mum.

Seven years. Take him down.

Morning.

Who's in charge here?

*PENNYWORTH*
Season 01 Episode 09
Episode Title : "Alma Cogan"

Captioned by Media Access
Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org

Sync corrections by srjanapala

We interrupt this broadcast

for an announcement from
Her Majesty's Prime Minister.

I spoke this morning with
Her Gracious Majesty the Queen.

I informed her,
with deep regret,

that my administration
no longer has the support

of a majority in Parliament.

That being so,

she has granted me
interim powers

to act as her prime minister

until such time as
a general election can be held.

In order to ensure
a truly democratic process,

the election will be open
to all parties,

including those that
have previously been illegal.

All gag orders
are hereby rescinded.

You may well ask,

why allow these scoundrels
to emerge from their dark lairs?

Because it is vitally important
we show the extremists

in no uncertain terms

that their violent radicalism
is not wanted here.

Whether they be left
or right fanatics,

their path can lead only

to bloodshed and anarchy.

On Election Day,

do not give in
to the dark joys of chaos.

Vote for your tried
and trusted traditional parties.

Vote for stability and peace.

That is all.

I bid you good day.

God save the queen,

and may he have mercy on us all.

- So there we have it,
- Wow.

An announcement from
Her Majesty's Prime Minister...

Finally.

Oh, you think
that's good news?

The people are going
to have their say.

How is that not good news?

How?

He's hoping the Ravens
and the No-Names

will use their new freedom
to destroy each other.

It might work.

Or he may have just announced
the start of a civil war.

Or maybe,
you cynical bastard,

the people
will use their freedom

to choose
wisely and peacefully.

Oh, come on.

For such a sharp
backgammon player,

you really are very naive.

Suppose,
just suppose,

that Undine Thwaite
and the No-Name League

actually get their message
across and they win.

What if the people are actually
good, decent men and women

and they soundly reject

the Raven Society?

What then with your cynicism?

You know, sometimes I forget
you're a wacko idealist.

A: Lord Harwood will not
accept defeat on any terms.

He'll turn to violence.
And B: Do you really,

truly believe that Undine
Thwaite and the No-Name League

should be running this country?

Why not?

The CIA believes they should.

Else why are you helping them?

The CIA likes options.

We're helping the
prime minister, too.

We'd back the Ravens
if they'd have us.

The CIA would let a chimpanzee

run this country

If it served
American interests.

No, that's not true.

I can assure
you it is.

What, so the CIA would support
violent repression?

Curfews?
Mandatory conscription?

No, say what you like,

but they wouldn't choose
a fascist dictatorship

when there are other options.

There are moral imperatives.

There really aren't.

Well, then that just proves

that you government people
have dried-up little souls.

Like raisins.Ouch.

It doesn't prove
that the No-Name League

couldn't run the country.

I've met Undine Thwaite
several times.

She's very intelligent and...

capable and honest.

Let's just agree to disagree,
shall we?

How much did I lose
at backgammon?

£250.

- Where are you going?
- Vacation's over.

I have to get back to work
before the shit hits the fan.

Really?
That much? 250?

Have to pay you back
when I next see you.

Mm.
You don't double enough.

Listen, speaking
of back to work,

count me in.

I want to work.

For government people
with dried-up souls?

Well, I believe in what
the No-Names stand for.

I believe in peace
and social justice.

I don't care
why you're helping them.

You are,
so I'm happy to help you.

Okay, I'll give you a call.

No. That sounded ominously
like "fuck off."

Martha,

I'm telling you
this as a friend.

I don't for a moment
doubt your competence.

But you don't know this world
and these people like I do.

And, quite frankly,

you're better off
not knowing.

Things are going
to get pretty nasty.

I'm not sure you
should be involved.

- That's exactly why you need...
- I can't stop you

from working for
the No-Name League.

I'm just saying,
think about it.

Okay?

Patronizing bastard.

A vote for the No-Name League

is a vote for hope.

A vote for equality.
A vote for love.

Vote Undine Thwaite.

Reedom to speak truth to power.

- Get back here now!
- Stay where you are!

I think you should
tell him.

Oh, don't start again.
We agreed.

Just doesn't feel right,

- him not knowing.
- Well, it's my secre

to tell, love.

And I'm not telling,
all right?

That's the end of it.
Come on.

Oh.

Welcome home, my love.

Girls,
this is my darling wife Clarissa.

Hello.

Come along.

Yeah.

I like what you've
done with the place.

Très chic.

And you.

You look fabulous.

Positively blooming.

Like a new woman.

Um,

- Jimmy, I...
- Hmm?

May we speak alone?

Oh, don't worry
about the girls.

Any friend of mine is
a friend of theirs.

Now...

Tell me what's
on your mind.

You seem troubled.
Unhappy, even.

No, no, not at all.
I'm very happy. Very happy.

It's just, uh...
you know,

this is all so sudden.

We'd given you up
for dead.

I... I feel like
I'm dreaming.

Hope that
it's a happy dream.

Oh, of course
a happy dream.

- Fresh meat.
- Lovely. Lovely.

Ginger pubes.
Lovely. Lovely.

Get your eyes up.
Lovely. Lovely.

- Lovely.
- Alfred Pennyworth?

Mr. Pennyworth, sir.
Visitor.

Sandra.
What are you doing here?

It's good to see you,
but you shouldn't have come.

I'm not chasing you
or anything.

Bazza and Daveboy sent me
with a message.

They didn't want to show their
faces and rouse suspicions.

Suspicions?

Of what?

They said to tell you

to stay low and tight
and remember Rangoon.

Ah, fuck.

Okay, listen, Sandy.
Now, this is important.

You go back to them
and tell 'em I said fucking no.

No.

Tell 'em I said
forget all about Rangoon.

That is an order.

All right?

All right.

"Rangoon" means "escape,"
doesn't it?

Tell 'em I said they're children
to be discussing such bollocks.

Don't you want to escape?

Not at Rangoon odds.

It was a bloodbath.

Tell 'em don't worry.
I'll think of something.

Will you?

Course.

I've been in worse shtook.

It was politics
that got me in here,

and they're changing
every day, so...

How are they, anyway? The lads?

They're worried about you.

We're all worried
about you.

Even me.

I haven't treated you right,
Sandra.

And I'm very sorry about that.

I've been wanting to tell you
the cold, hard truth

for a while,
but I put it off 'cause...

well, 'cause it's cold and hard.

What is?

Bit obvious now,
isn't it?

Stay away from the likes of me.

Stay away from men that you
have to meet in Newgate.

I should. I know.

You deserve much, much better.

I know what I deserve.

Better than you do, I expect.

Girl like you can have
anyone you want.

Lords, if you like.

I don't want a lord.

Sandra,

you're gonna forget about me,
and I'm gonna forget about you.

Oy.

Escort her to the outer door.

Any screws mess about,
you use my name.

Yes, sir,
Mr. Pennyworth.

Goodbye, Sandra.

Alfie says you're
fucking children.

Forget Rangoon.
He'll think of something.

That's an order.
Got it?

Aye.

I... Seriously, I think

we should just lose
all this cake nonsense.

This cake nonsense is
perfect. Remember...

Yes, yes. I know.

Just, I'm talking
to one person, face-to-face.

A ll right, we're on in
five, four, three...

Good morning, everyone.

I'm Undine Thwaite.

I'm so glad I can finally
speak to you face-to-face.

I thank the prime minister for
allowing us all to speak freely.

Now, I'm new to this
speechmaking business, so, um,

please forgive me if I simply do
my best to speak plainly to you,

without any fine phrases.

My dear husband Julian was
the talker in our family.

My own political work,

as for so many women,
was behind the scenes.

Organizing, fund-raising,

peacemaking.

I'd still be happy
in the background today,

had my husband not been
so cruelly taken from me.

But I don't want to dwell
on the sorrows of the past.

Let's talk about tomorrow.

Let's talk about hope.

Why not?

Everyone deserves hope.

And hope is what...

My God, what utter tripe.

Turn off the machine.

Hope and love, equality...
Well, well.

I don't think we
have much to fear

from the No-Name
contingent.

Equality, indeed.

Why not toast and jam?

I liked her.

I thought she seemed nice.

No side to her.

Well, she's standing
for prime minister.

So, thankfully,

nice has nothing to do with it.

Oh, I'm sure you know best.
Poor thing.

Imagine, your husband murdered
right in front of you.

And carrying on
the way she has.

- So brave.
- Mm.

Welcome, Your Grace.

Look here, Harwood.
It won't do, do you see?

We have been
treated abominably.

Cooped up like chickens,
chivvied hither and yon.

Won't do. Secrecy,
your safety...

Bally rot.
Your woman here tells me

I am not allowed...
Not allowed...

To call my tailor.

We agreed, sir, no one must
know you're in the country.

You must remain incognito
for the time being.

There are limits, man.

- Limits.
- It won't do.

I'll have him
sent for immediately.

You must be exhausted.

Perhaps you'd like to
see your quarters.

- Clarissa.
- Uh, Your Grace.

They're impossible, Jimmy.

Vicious, stupid and cunning
in equal measure.

Tools, Frances.
Implements.

And now that we've got them
in our grasp,

the queen will have
to do our bidding

or risk replacement.

Gin?

Yes. Yes, yes, please.

I saw that No-Name woman
on the machine.

- Undine Thwaite.
- Oh, yes.

- No, I saw her, too. Utter tosh.
- Yes, I agree.

Bet and Peg liked her
immensely, though.

- Did they?
- Yes, they found her simpatico.

No side. Interesting, no?

I know I shouldn't delve,
but I don't quite see

what those Sykes sisters
are exactly for

in the grand
scheme of things.

You're absolutely right,
Frances.

You shouldn't delve.
My point is that

we're selling blood and iron,

and Thwaite is selling
sponge cake!

She may be a more
formidable opponent

than I first anticipated.

You've got a way

of getting hold of her
quietly, I expect?

Yes. Yes, yes. Yes, I do.

Give her a call. Tell her
we have mutual interests

I'd like to discuss with her.

Thank you.

Perhaps we can make a pact.

Regarding the, uh, items

referred
to the plenary subcommittee

on excise,

an adjudication
will take place

as and when the
addendum review panel

issues its figures. Uh...

Uh,
and I would ask... uh, I have asked

that the cabinet ministers

are in full...

A pact will kill us!

Kill us!

As you say, sir.

I'd scrap the election
and call in the army,

but, frankly,
I doubt their loyalty.

I think they'd back Harwood.

I hear the same thing.

I'm getting old.

I didn't see this coming.

Mr. Pennyworth, sir,
you got a visitor.

What do you want?

I'm gratified to see you looking
so healthy in such squalor.

Match fit.

How would you like
to get out of here?

Oh, don't sulk now.

What do you say?

I'm waiting for a question
worth answering.

Are you willing to kill
to get out of here?

Depends who and how many.

May I sit down?

The air in here is hell
on my allergies.

Turmeric.

Works wonders.

The Ravens and
the No-Name League

are secretly negotiating
an electoral pact.

They'll divvy up seats

to avoid directly
competing with each other.

It's a lethal choke hold
on the traditional parties.

The prime minister has decided
on heroic measures.

Lord Harwood has to go.

We'll make it seem the No-Name
League are responsible.

Harwood.

And the No-Name patsies.

It's a just target.

Harwood means to set up
a fascist dictatorship.

He'll need a war.
Enemies.

Scotland first, probably.

Then who knows?

You're working
for the good guys, Alfred.

I do this, then I'm out.
No charges on me.

Free and clear. Free and clear.

Unless, of course,
for any reason you fail

to complete your side
of the deal.

Fair enough.

Doesn't add up, though,
does it?

There's a high risk
of making Harwood a martyr.

The Ravens could gain big
from his death at the polls.

Your chiefs wouldn't
want him dead

unless there was
some other threat in play.

The Pretender and his wife
are in England.

Harwood has them
under lock and key,

ready to slap crowns
on the blighters.

He also has a large faction

of the army high command
on his side.

They like wars, too.

Why not just kill the duke?

- Not that I'm offering.
- No.

One can't murder dukes.

Not unless there's
no viable alternative.

Now you know
everything. Um...

I'll have word
with the warden, shall I?

Oh, Alfie.

- Here you are.
- Thank you.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Now, going in
by the southeast gate...

looks easier.

Hmm.
We'd have to take out...

the guardhouse first, though.

Well, that's what I'm saying...
So we start here,

make our way around
and through that gate.

Hello, lads.

Hatching a plan, are we?

I thought you'd been told
about all that.

What the fuck?
Alfie.

- Hey. What the fuck?
- Hey.

Alfred.
Bazza.

Alfie.

Come here.

Oh...

Told you I'd think
of something.

♪ My, my, my Hey! Hey-hey! ♪

♪ Delilah ♪

♪ Why, why, why ♪

♪ Delilah? ♪

♪ So before ♪

♪ They come to break down
the door ♪

♪ Forgive me, Delilah

♪ I just couldn't take
any more. ♪

So, how did you get out?

Told you...
my friend Aziz pulled strings.

Oh. Seriously, now,
what do you have to do in return?

Three guesses.

Kill someone.

Fuck, Alfie.

Yeah, I know...
Very depressing.

Actors call it
typecasting.

Who's the blot?

That, you don't
need to know.

Even if you're in on it,
names can wait.

No, we're in on it.

Maybe.
Don't know the specs yet.

No debate.
We're in.

Harwood.

Ah. No problem.

Just the most famous, if not the
most popular, man in England.

Piece of cake.

When?

Aziz is gonna call
when it's on.

What then?

What then?

You're in Babylon, Alfie.

They won't let you go.

They'll want you to
keep killing people.

And you don't like
killing people.

Yeah, I'll worry
about that after.

You say you're in on the job,
then you get the collywobbles.

Make your mind up.

Harwood needs topping, anyway,
and I'm out of Newgate.

That's good enough for me.

What are you boys
whispering about?

Dirty joke, Mrs. P.

You'll have
already heard it.

I dare say I have, Mr. MacDougal.

As long as
you're not talking mischief.

I've got my baby back.

I'm not letting him out
of my sight ever again.

Oh...

Right. Suppose you want
breakfast, dear.

Oh, yes, please.

- All right, then.
- Please, yeah.

Have a nice cup of tea.

Nobody... nobody
sees this list.

Understood.

First list is the seats
we believe we can take

if the Ravens agree
not to stand.

Second list is the seats
we're willing to give to them.

Both lists are ranked.

Deal breakers first,
easy concessions last.

We've entrusted you with
a great deal of responsibility.

I won't let you down.

If you don't mind my asking, though,
why me?

Why not go yourselves?

I can't be seen to
conspire with fascists.

And I can't be seen.

If it goes wrong,
you're a foreign freelancer.

We knew nothing. Hmm.

He'll try and intimidate you.

Don't let him.

But don't be
aggressive in return.

Emphasize our commitment to
peace, to dialogue.

It's okay. They know me.

Martha?

Oh, it's so great
to see you again,

Mrs. Thwaite.

I'm so sorry
for your loss.

Undine, please.
We're old comrades.

- How are you?
- Very well.

I'm so excited
for the future.

Your courage has been
an inspiration.

- Thank you.
- No, thank you, Martha,

for all that you've
done for our cause.

Now, did you two
come here together,

or is this happy coincidence?

Happy coincidence.
Hi, Thomas.

Hi, Martha.

Can I take
some pictures of you?

Yes, of course.

Good.

That's great.

Could you just look slightly
this way for... Yeah.

That's beautiful.

I have an idea.

Thomas, you must take Martha
with you to the negotiations.

I don't think that's a...

- That's not a good idea, is it?
- Why not?

You've worked together before
with great success.

I'm in.
What are the negotiations?

Well, it's a technical,
analytical type of job.

His Lordship likes women.

All men like women.

He'd be surprised,
wouldn't he?

Oh, boy.

Most men.
A very high percentage.

My point: a second negotiator
isn't necessary.

A woman at the table

signals calm, peaceful
intentions. It's a good idea.

And who better than someone
we both know and trust?

On the air in five.

Right, must dash.
Lovely to see you, Martha.

That was all
deliberate, wasn't it?

You came here to do that.
What are you talking about?

I'm taking pictures.

Oh, you came in very
smooth. Very natural.

A five-star entry.

She asked me, Thomas.
I didn't say shit.

She asked me.
That's because you're so smooth.

What's the job?

Uh, trust me, Martha,
as your friend.

You're not meant
for this kind of work.

- You're just not.
- Well, Undine thinks differently.

What's the job?

You'll know
when you need to know.

I'll pick you up
tomorrow morning, early.

Hmm.

There you go.

Handsome.

That'll be the duke.

Be a treasure.

Send someone up
with toast and gin.

Let Their Graces out.

Will do.

Oh, and, Peg?

That meeting with the
No-Names tomorrow,

I'd like you and Bet
to come along. Moral support.

If you have no
other plans.

No. Of course. Lovely.

Regular programming will resume

after this broadcast
by the Country Labour Party.

Oh, fiddle.

Another?

Inbred yokels.

All right, I'm off to bed.

Night.

Night, Dad.

Night. Night, son.

You must be
tired, too, Mum.

Don't stay up
on my account.

Oh. I'm full of beans, me.

Just got to do this sleeve.

It's you needs your sleep.

Shall I make some cocoa?

Good idea. Cocoa.

Yeah?

The game's on. Tomorrow morning.

Got it.

- I knew it.
- What?

More trouble.

No, that was nothing, Mum.
It was a business thing.

As if you could lie to me.

No trouble, Mum.
I swear.

Please, Alfred,
whatever it is, don't do it.

Well, I do have a
job on, as it goes.

It's safe, though.
Government work.

- Nothing shady, I swear.
- Your dad's got cancer.

He's dying.

What?

Your dad's got cancer.

He's dying.

Oh, Mum.

I'm sorry, son.

Doctors can do wonders
these days.

It's terminal, they call it.

Lungs.

Two years if he's lucky.

Christ.

He doesn't want
anyone to know.

You mustn't tell him
I've told you.

- But...
- No, you mustn't.

He doesn't want any fuss.

All right.

Please be safe, Alfie,
for my sake.

- I will, Mum.
- You promise?

I promise.

Want me to drive?

Nope.

You gonna be like this
the whole time?

Like what?

Resentful.

Yep.

The American president
has announced his intention

to put a man on the Moon.

Goodness.

Why, though?
Did he do something very terrible?

Who?

The man they're sending
to the Moon.

No, Mother.

No, I expect there'll be some

brave volunteer who will be,
you know, selected.

It's-it's not a punishment.

Sounds like one.

Who'd want to go
to the Moon?

That's Bazza.

Bye, Mum.

Bye, Dad.

Be careful, Alfie.

Have you got a hanky?

Yes, Mum.

Blue squad.
F.O.B. up, over.

Roger. Stand by, blue squad.

Blackbird incoming,
three to four minutes.

Two Pigeons spotted en route,

a man and a woman
in a white car.

E.T.A. five to six.

Confirming protocol, no action
until I say fire on target.

Take out Blackbird first,
then the Pigeons.

Confirmed. Over.

- Time for a brew-up?
- No. Five minutes.

Blackbird first,
then the two Pigeons.

Boy, girl, in a white car.

No headshots on the Pigeons.

They need them identifiable
as No-Name League agents,

make for a good
cover story.

Blackbird first,
no headshots on the Pigeons.Mm-hmm.

This is the business, eh?

Fresh air, high adventure.

You boys should
embrace these moments.

See, us?

We're in the engine room
of fucking history, eh?

Oily rags, Daveboy.

Any movement?

Negative.

Incoming. Blackbird.

What's this, then?

This is the place.

This?

We are at the crossroads
of ancient ley lines.

A place of power.

English rulers have been
coming here to do business

for thousands of years.

Well, there's...
there's no facilities.

It'll look very well
in the history books.

What, we're to pee in
the hedgerows, are we?

It's a spooky place.

I'm waiting in the car.

Eight armed
guards, two women.

The redheaded woman
is returning to the cars.

This looks like them now.

White car,

inbound.

Wind, east to west.

Ten miles.

All targets inside our cordon.

You are free to fire.

Fuck.

Fuck what?

Who are they?

It's that Thomas Wayne
and a tall drink.

Martha Kane.

Oh, fuck.

Fuck what?

They're targets,
and they're available.

Thomas!

I repeat,

all targets are now
inside our cordon.

Do you have them in sight?
Blue squad, respond.

It's good to meet at last,

in so much happier
circumstances.

Likewise.Ms. Kane, I don't think

I've had the pleasure.No.

Please.

They're there for you, Alfie.

I can see that.

You barely know the people.

But I do know 'em.

Alfie.

We have to say something
to Aziz.

I'll have a word.

Aziz, you tucked me up again.

The Pigeons are Thomas Wayne
and Martha Kane. Over.

Blue squad,
we had no information

on the agents involved.

Carry on exactly as ordered.

The Pigeons have to go. Over.

I'll have to think
about that. Over.

Blue squad? Alfred? Respond!

Fuck. Plan B. Go.

I hate to say it, Alfie.
Daveboy's right.

They're not civilians.
We're on business.

On the queen's business.

And those are queen's bullets.

They're still fucking bullets.

Oh. Movement.

Police.

Half a mile and closing.

Aziz has given up on us.

Gonna try and massacre them
all on his own.

I'm sorry, boys, but there's
a principle at stake here.

You're not gonna like this,
but I got to do it.

Keep your head down!

This way, sir.

Get him out!

Start the car!

Keep your head down.

Stand down, Officers.

Stand down.

Well, that was
a crazy day.

I told you not to come.

Are you kidding me?

I wouldn't have missed
that for the world.

You nearly died.
Yeah, that's just it.

I nearly died,
but I didn't.

Is there any better feeling?

Well, I can think of several.

Missed me by inches.

Inches.

In any case,
we managed to get away

before the police closed in,
guns blazing.

Was a damn close shave.

Crikey.

It's a good thing.

We now know two new facts.

We have a mole,

and the government
means to kill me.

The election's a sham.

They'll never let us win,
except by force.

And now we know.

What are we going to do?

The authorities could descend
on you at any moment,

and what if they find
your wretched guests?

Oh, damn it, Jimmy.
I said it was a mistake

to let them come here
in the first place.

You were
absolutely right,

of course, as usual.

We should never have
brought them here.

Yet here they are.

And our mole's no doubt blown
the gaff on them, too.

God, of course.

Now, don't be
downhearted, Franny.

Yes, it's a pickle.

Drastic measures are called for.

And speed.

♪ Bring me sunshine ♪

♪ In your smile ♪

♪ Bring me laughter ♪

♪ All the while ♪

♪ In this world where we live ♪

♪ There should be more happiness ♪

♪ So much joy you can give ♪

♪ To each brand-new bright tomorrow ♪

♪ Make me happy... ♪

Oh. Hello,
early bird.

I didn't hear you
come in last night.

Ooh, that milk's turning.

Mum.

That government job
I told you about...

it went wrong.

Oh, no.

Did somebody die?

No, Mum.

That's the problem.

Alfie.

I'm sorry, Mum.

I can't go back to Newgate.
I can't.

No.
You mustn't.

You're doing the right thing,
son.

I should go now.

I shouldn't be here at all.

Don't you want
to see your father?

No. I can't.

Look, just tell
him that I'm...

You can't what?

Tell me what?

What's all this wailing,
Mother?

The police wanted him to do
a murder, and he wouldn't,

so now they want him
back in Newgate,

and he can't do that, so
he's going on the run.

He's a fugitive.

Oh, nonsense.
What?

Maybe the West Indies.

- Or America.
- Probably not, Mum.

More likely just Wales.

Just until the heat dies down.

Look, I really have to go.

- Yeah.
- Bye, Mum. Love you.

Wales?

I really have
to go, Dad.

I love you.

♪ Let your arms be as warm ♪

♪ As the sun from up above ♪

♪ Bring me fun,
bring me sunshine ♪

♪ Bring me love ♪

♪ Bring me fun,
bring me sunshine ♪

♪ Bring me love. ♪

The prime minister tried to kill me.

- Can you blame him?
- Not at all.

I'd probably try the
same in his shoes.

But he failed.

And now the crisis is here,
and I must act.

Either he goes
or I do.

He goes only
if we say so.

Who's a better friend
to the army, hmm?

Who'll double your budgets?

Who'll bring you
into the government?

Who'll give you weapons
to fight with?

Enemies to fight against?

All salient points.

You know we support
your agenda,

but we answer
to the Crown.

If the queen is with you,
then we are.

If not...

The queen is with me.

Your Majesty.

Deer can make that
noise sometimes.

Oh, shit.

Cry for help.

Go on. Cry for help.

Help.

Yes, go help.

Nice to meet you,
Your Majesty.

Drop the gun.

Drop the fucking gun!

♪ Get down, deeper and down ♪

♪ Down, down, deeper and down ♪

♪ Down, down
deeper and down ♪

♪ Get down, deeper and down ♪

♪ I want all ♪

♪ The world to see ♪

♪ To see you're laughing
and you're laughing at me ♪

♪ I can take it all from you ♪

♪ Again, again, again, again,
again, again, again ♪

♪ And deeper and down ♪

♪ Down, down, deeper and down ♪

♪ Down, down,
deeper and down ♪

♪ Down, down deeper and down ♪

♪ Get down,
deeper and down. ♪

Captioned by Media Access
Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org

Sync corrections by srjanapala