All language subtitles for The.Death.Of.Robin.Hood.2026.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.GG - YTS.BZ]

Do you have any food?

I'm very hungry.

Let down your hair.

You do not pass for a boy.

Let down your hair.

I'm not afraid.

Travelers spoke in these
hills of the hero Robin Hood.

He protects the meek.

No one protects the meek.

And he was no hero?

He observed Thrace a day
and gave silver to the poor.

And he had the love of Lady Marion.

Is that not a hero?

Lady Marion was taken
from an old shepherd's tale

by a storyteller
unfortunately drunker than I.

She was the great love of Robin Hood.

There is no great love for one such as him.

I've known those who met this man.

Would you like to know a secret?

If I would.

He never prayed once in his life.

These tales spread across
the land of lies upon lies.

You were a murderous
brigand who perhaps cut the

throat of a sheriff and
a long line of others.

People saw a meaning where there was none.

He was not a hero.

He robbed and killed for the joy of it.

Nothing more.

Those you met, did they say
he felt remorse for his crimes?

I suspect he felt tired.

I would say if you met this
villain Robin Hood, you should

make haste away and keep
whatever life you have left here.

Who was your kin?

Will you marry me?

I agree.

Father.

Grandfather.

You should have bathed.

Or waited for the wind to change.

Or kept your weight on your back foot.

That's all.

You did well.

They sing lies.

These foolish common folk.

Lies of his heroism and goodness.

But blood debts are owed.

And generations of his victims hunt him.

For in truth, none were more wicked and
wanton than the murderous bandit Robin Hood.

And his little John.

Speak to Thomas.

You were hanged in the south.

Will.

They gutted him.

I've no one else to ask.

What happened?

My name is Edward.

Who is Edward?

I met him on the road ten summers ago.

His brother died and he was going to
grow rye and peas on his brother's land.

No one knew Edward's face.

So I killed him.

Now I am Edward.

And Margaret's a good wife.

It's a good farm.

What happened?

A family on the land found me out.

Took my farm.

Took my Margaret.

Tried to take my life.

I cannot take back alone what is mine.

It's not yours.

It's my family.

I'm tired, John.

Edward.

I'm tired, Edward.

It will be a mighty battle.

One for the stories.

You're strong.

Are we?

I come from an old family.

They're safe from Viking bugger.

There's a story that wants
their elder father for to bear.

It will be a mighty battle, Robin.

How many are there?

Four.

Five.

Together we can best them.

We'll likely die.

Where shall we go when dying today?

In behind that vault of war I sense there lies a new slain
knight And nobody knows that he lies the hero But there's

hawk and there's hound and there's leggety fair hero
There's hawk and there's hound and there's leggety fair hero

Many are one for whom shall mourn None shall
know where he has gone Whose white bones

when they are bare The wind shall blow
forevermore The wind shall blow forevermore

Robin!

Robin!

This is a good adventure.

A good adventure.

Do you remember when we met the Potter?

Did we leave him naked, or did we kill him?

Oh, I tried to tell the story, and
someone said we left him naked.

And I couldn't remember.

You always told her well, Robin.

Why would we leave him naked?

I don't know.

We were just...

We never met, Potter.

What do you mean we never met him?

I mean, that never happened.

It's just a story I heard somewhere.

But if we did meet a Potter, we killed him.

I'd remember if it were a story.

Tell me about your wife.

Margaret... She's a good woman.

She's a very good woman.

She's pious.

She teaches me pridefulness.

Paint a portrait.

Paint a portrait?

Paint a portrait.

She has hair that's red.

Red like?

Red like.

Fresh blood.

Oh, not blood.

No, no, no.

Tell me that's red and
that's good, like her.

Red like...

Like the setting sun.

Like the setting summer sun.

Margaret's a good wife.

With hair that's red like
the setting summer sun.

She cares for me.

And I care for her.

Robin.

The open lands past the mountains.

Many places to begin again.

I do not aim to begin again.

I aim for a right death.

Audrey!

Get the others!

Edward!

Edward.

My love.

Watch over little Margaret.

No!

The Lord.

I'll save daughter.

Let us pray.

Let us pray.

Oh, Lord.

Our God.

Grant us grace to desire
thee with our whole heart.

Come on now, pray.

And in finding thee, we may love thee.

And in forming thee, we may hate those
sins from which thou hast redeemed us.

For the sake of Jesus Christ.

Amen.

Yes.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

We were not born alone.

We were not born alone.

Cousin, I'm sorry.

The wind between the north and east Blowed every chill and cold Or coldly blowed to me at least My clothes
were thin and old The grass hole dropping wet with dew Low bends the tiny spears The lowly days he bended

to More lowly with mighty tears Oh, lookless youth to sorrow born Shun son of poverty The wild made
gameless sport and scorn And grinning infamy Unequalled though my sorrow seems But great indeed they are Oh,

hear my sorrows for my stream You'll find an equal there The land and netting soar no more
The pastures to woken The reeds, the meadows and the moors Are all cut up and gone We cry

to thee, O Lord, Do thou have mercy upon us And grant forgiveness O king of heaven and
everlasting Lord Receive our prayers which we pour forth And grant forgiveness Visit the sick,

bring forth the captive Help the widow
and the orphan And grant forgiveness

We have sinned and departed from thee
Wilt thou, the redeemer of all, save us?

And grant forgiveness Have
mercy on the penitent And

wash away the stains of sin And
grant forgiveness Amen Little John!

Twenty winters ago You murdered my cousin
Walter of Havasage You have mourned my

sons And my grandson As Werygill I accept
your life And the life of your daughter

I've heard stories of a
priori hidden away, as

a prioress there is older
than anyone remembers.

She has a elit magic.

I'll take you to her.

She'll get you well again.

I've heard incredible stories.

We must leave you.

It's strange for it to fall this late.

But it will stay on the ground.

And the long days are still to come.

A man brought you here.

He sealed your wounds with
fire and he did not do a poor job.

You've been here six days.

You have wounds in your
abdomen, ribs and a leg badly broken.

Do you understand my words?

Where is this?

You're at the Priory of Saint
Clement, or a place for you to heal.

What town?

There is no town.

Do you know the story of Saul?

What?

It goes, there once was
a man, Saul, a breather

of menaces against
disciples of the Lord.

He came to the prince of priests and asked of
him letters into Damascus, to the synagogues,

that if he came across any man or woman
of this life, he should leave them bound.

That is all we need to do.

Just a few drops.

It was not too painful.

It were not.

I'm Sister Brigid.

What's your name?

Randolph.

I owe you an apology, Randolph.

What apology?

You begged for me to let you die.

And I did not.

You said it was right.

I will with fever.

Well, your fever has passed.

Rest now, Randolph.

Your body is covered in scars.

Do you mean any one of this Priory harm?

I do not.

Will any harm follow you here?

It will not.

You will do them no harm.

Now back to the bed.

Now back to the door.

Now open the door.

Go as far as you'd like.

Can you row yet?

There is a boat on the west shore.

That's all right.

You can stay here if
you help in the orchard.

I'm not a farmer.

Then you know not how to hunt.

I know how to hunt.

There is some game on this island.

But no, you cannot hunt.

You cannot even draw a bow.

I can draw my bow.

It's mostly rabbits.

Do you know how to trap?

I know how to trap.

Good.

But no more than six traps or
the population will not sustain.

Can you manage six traps?

I can manage six traps.

Good.

Then the rest of your time
you may help in the orchard.

Are you trying to flee?

You are quiet.

I am quiet and slow.

You are quiet, but you need to be slow.

You're a cripple.

You're a leper.

It is all right to be slow.

We are safe here.

That's quite a thing to say.

You know that?

I know that because she has made us safe.

Are you a prioress?

She was like us.

She knew great sorrow,
great pain, widowed young.

But through that sorrow, she
found the strength to heal us.

You do not look like you've been healed.

The prioress once told
me a story of a great

philosopher, the greatest
philosopher of his time.

But one day, his king
turned against him, threw

him in a dungeon to be
tortured and executed.

But in his misery, when
he had nothing, an angel

came to the philosopher
and she spoke to her.

And from her, he learned that it did not
matter if this whole world were misery, if

all he had was death, because he had one
thing that could never be touched or taken.

He had his mind.

And in his mind, he had God.

There's never too late to find peace.

What are you doing?

I row across every day.

Your friend was strong enough to take
you, but some are not, so I ferry them.

Will you take me across?

I will not.

You can row yourself when you're stronger.

For now, work at your
tasks, trapping, get here.

I will hunt.

No, you can't hunt.

What happened to that grave philosopher?

He was tortured and executed, of course.

The emperor has brought someone
from the far east to the far shore.

What was that?

How's it go?

Let me show you my trees.

These are the elderberries.

They harvest late in the summer.

Do they know what you were before this?

Oh, you'll have to favour
this side for my hearing.

Pears, they harvest just after.

And what were I before this?

Oh, I sell sod at best.

At best, certainly.

We have a way about us.

You remember the trees?

Pears and alderberries.

Wonderful.

Some of them know.

But the prioress does not care who we were.

The apples harvest in the autumn.

Did she speak of what happened to her?

The prioress is tending to the girl.

You should speak with
her if you are concerned.

What were the trees?

Pears, apples and alderberries.

Wonderful.

This will be your last let in.

Though your body still has much healing.

You're tired.

I am.

But I've been tired before.

The child does not sleep.

What happened to her?

Terrible things.

She told you her story.

Now she does not speak.

She does not eat and she does not sleep.

What is her name?

Margaret.

Who is she?

I met her father.

Farmer.

Well, he's dead.

Seems.

And the mother?

I think dead.

How?

I don't know.

Dead pastor.

Slain?

Perhaps.

You lie very well.

Did the child see?

She could have.

That is much for a child to see.

Sorry for your friend.

Thank you.

Would you like me to pray for him?

As you wish.

What was his name?

Edward.

Edward.

Be not your heart afraid, for you
believe in God and you believe in me.

In the house of my father
there are many rooms.

And when I'm made ready for you a place,
I shall come and take thee to myself.

For where I am, he may be also.

And whither I go, he shall know the way.

The other night... Margaret!

Margaret!

It's all right.

Margaret, it's all right.

It's all right.

Margaret, it's all right.

You don't know this, Oliver.

You're a bore about.

Wait.

Give it.

Give it.

Those men that hurt you,
do they know you're here?

What's my name?

Say my name.

Randall.

That's right.

Who's little John?

That name is nonsense and
you should never speak it.

Now if you speak it, a cat will come
in the night and take your tongue.

It's all right.

Go to sleep.

Now watch your storm.

All right.

Lay down.

Close your eyes.

You can sleep.

Sleep.

Thank you for bringing her back.

We were nothing.

Do you know the story of this Priory?

No.

Well, in ages before history, this
was a holy site of the ancient Druids.

They worshipped unknown gods.

Worshipped in these woods.

Then the Romans came
long ago and they sensed the

magic of this place, so
they built their temples.

And people upon people sensed
it and they came here to worship.

Countless gods, tribe
after tribe, who would

not even know how
to speak to each other.

Yet we were all pulled to this place.

Do you believe there
is magic in this island?

I believe there is power in it.

I've seen the power in stories.

They can be used to make
men do terrible things.

And then those terrible
things become stories.

And stories.

We cannot trust any of them.

We cannot be trusted with them.

Knives got bread as well as they do flesh.

It's a question of balance.

Does balance have a say?

I think if balance did not have
some say, we would not be here.

This world would not be here and
we would not be sharing these words.

Do you ever consider that?

The incredible precision of balance
over such an expanse of time.

The balance it takes to
create a word, any specific

word, that can pass between
lips and be understood.

Be understood by two minds.

Randolph.

Not hungry?

No.

I'll be dying soon.

How do you know?

I can feel it inside.

What does it feel like?

It feels right.

There's someone there.

The waters have been busy.

Start around the feet.

Little cuts.

Good.

Other one.

Good.

Let's see.

Good.

I know, there's two down the front.

Down the belly.

Good.

Watch this one.

Just like that.

That's it.

You do the other one.

That's it.

That's it.

That's it.

You are

a brave young man.

Thank you, sister.

Are you hungry, Arthur?

I am, sister.

I'll say I will fix you up
a good supper tonight.

Herring stew.

Herring stew.

Do you like that?

Yes.

Where do you come from, Arthur?

My family farm toward Keswick.

Toward Keswick?

Yes, sir.

Randolph?

Randolph.

Toward Keswick.

I've never said you seek your niece.

I do.

You were set upon.

I was.

On the road?

Yes.

We're safe here.

Which road?

The road to Keswick, sir.

Thank the Lord you survived.

I do thank the Lord.

How about we need pairs
after supper for being so brave?

Thank you, sister.

Little Margaret.

That man Arthur.

Did you ever see him before
you came to the Priory?

Margaret.

The men.

The men who hurt your papa.

Did you see their faces?

Papa said to run.

Papa stopped praying.

He was angry.

He prayed in his mind.

What's papa's name?

Your papa's your papa.

Bring it here.

Oh, this is fine work.

You see, it favors a bend here.

You have to balance it so it bends evenly.

So this part here needs to be thin.

Right?

Can you make for me?

I'm going to make you a bowl.

All right.

Today I remembered a story
by a poet named Lucretius.

He wrote him what are called atoms.

Well, if you pick apart the trees
and people and stones, these would

be the smallest invisible pieces
that make up everything in creation.

And these atoms are
sailing through the void.

And sometimes for no reason
at all, they change their course.

The least amount, not even a hair.

And if it weren't for that
small or unpredictable change

forcing the atoms to cross
and weave with each of them,

nothing at all under
the heavens would exist.

Good.

There we go.

Which one do you think for your bowl?

They're both good.

Arthur.

Do you know how to trap?

Yes.

Good.

I need a strong hand.

Come.

Does your family have land?

Yes.

How many of you are there?

I don't know.

Are you right?

I am.

I am.

I'm not as young as I once were.

I could use a hand up as well.

Thank you.

I delivered you quite a blow.

Yes.

Who did it?

A man.

Some men.

Bandits.

A man.

Bandits.

Yes.

May I look?

Quite a blow.

You're lucky you survived.

You're a lucky boy.

Yes.

You should be thankful to be alive.

Yes.

You used to quarter stuff.

And look, you didn't take your head off.

Moisture?

Now you're in great pain.

Do you remember the trees?

Pears, apples and aloe berries.

Wonderful.

You know that you're the most
important person in little Margaret's life.

Not important.

Think of all the people
whose lives you've crossed.

We were important somehow to all of them.

Do you know the story of Guy of Gaspard?

And Robin Hood?

Yes.

They say you killed him.

Did you really, madam?

You are confused, Leper.

Well, I'll not tell a soul.

But don't lie to a man on his deathbed.

So, did you really be Adam?

There were no Guy of Gaspard.

Well, just one of the
many tales of pastement.

But I buried all the men.

You really don't remember?

No.

Think about that name.

There were a Guy of Gaspard.

For you did not be Adam.

You cut off his ear.

You said in another life
you'd share a drink with him.

Do you remember that?

We seek to have found another life.

Now, there is one cruelty I
would ask you to not bring about.

You will guard the
archer until you too die.

You will serve the priors.

And the people of this
priory past and future.

But at no point in that time...

in those good and peaceful years...

will you tell the priors
who you really are.

What?

Because...

one of those nameless, faceless
deaths in the shadows of your mind...

were in another life.

Oh, beloved.

Promise me.

Robin.

Promise me.

Yes, yes, yes, yes.

Goodbye, Bridget.

Arthur.

Come.

There's a child on the far shore.

Perhaps it's your niece.

The leper said you sought your lost niece.

Yes?

Could it be her?

We shall see.

I do not see signs of anyone.

Now we should wait.

Maybe they will return.

What is your name?

Arthur.

Do not waste time lying to me.

What is your real name?

Godwin.

You are deciding, Godwin...

whether to do the deed yourself...

or to fetch your family.

What deed?

How many men have you killed, Godwin?

How many children have you killed?

I have killed so many, I
could not give you a count.

For longer than you've been alive...

I've been killing the kin of
those I killed a lifetime ago.

I do not remember in the first... who
meant nothing to me at the time, but...

their brothers and their children,
their grandchildren, they remember me.

So now I must kill them.

Again and again.

In different forms, like shades, again.

And again, and it never ceases.

It's a curse, Godwin.

And it's one you bring on
yourself, even if done through duty.

It cares not about your duty.

This world cares only about blood.

And blood is all I will give in return.

Do you want to kill a child, Godwin?

Do you want to be responsible
for the killing of a little girl?

Your father's dead?

And your uncle's?

I am the eldest left.

And how she had lives, Godwin?

My mother.

My aunts.

My sisters.

You have a home, Godwin?

Yes.

Go home.

Tell your family all blood debts are paid.

Then we'll be paid someday.

Sleep in your own bed.

Oh, dear.

The life you will yet share with your kin.

And if you return here,
you will have wasted

this chance at life
that I give you now.

And I will cut your throat
and never think of you again.

Go now.

And do not look back.

I thought you had departed.

I am Robin the Outlaw.

You need to know I am a monster.

I am not one Randolph.

I am the Outlaw, Robin Hood.

Tell me I should leave.

I will go now.

Get in the bed.

Richard.

Lie down.

You burned my husband alive.

I dreamed that he was already dead,
but why else did you bar the door?

It felt like a lifetime searching
the ashes of our home.

And he looked so small.

This curled up in the corner
with so much of him gone.

But as much as I dream,
I know he was alive.

Because until the very end, he had
wrapped himself around our children.

Randolph?

It's me.

People speak of Robin Hood.

They are all eyes.

Follow me into the dark.

Robin.

What are they going to do?

Do not be afraid.

I will rescue you from this place.

I will rescue little Margaret.

We are going to start a new life together.

Edward.

Tell me about your wife.

My wife.

Margaret.

Margaret.

My wife, Margaret.

Paint a portrait.

Paint a portrait.

She has hair.

Red-like.

The setting sun.

Right, the setting sun, my son.

Red-like.

The setting sun.

Son.

Robin.

Have you found your hard death?

I'm ready to finish it.

I owe this life to you.

It is monstrous.

I owe this life to you.

You owe me nothing.

I have never taken a break before.

It can be as if pruning a flower.

Well, it should not be.

It should not.

But it can.

I help those who come to this island.

I heal them.

Please.

Heal me.

Little Margaret.

Your father's name was John.

I knew him for many years.

Before he were your papa.

I met him.

Crossing a bridge one day.

Over a rushing river.

He was stubborn.

He would not yield.

Not to any man.

Not even to me.

So we wrestled.

On that bridge.

Stracking.

Back and forth.

I whacked him on the side of the head.

He struck me in the stomach.

And I wobbled on that bridge.

Splash.

He knocked me in me bum.

Once I dragged myself out.

Drenched to the bone.

We embraced.

We called your papa.

Little John.

And we lived for many years.

As outlaws.

In the green wood.

We had feasts.

We...

We gave silver.

To the meek.

But we stole that silver.

We stole it.

From...

From bad people.

Do you understand?

Bad people.

Your papa.

Wouldn't want me to tell you.

Because he loved you so dearly.

You must never tell us all.

Not even the children you play with.

You must never tell them your papa's name.

There are bad people out there.

And they are angry with your papa.

And so they are angry with you.

Can we keep that secret?

I can keep that secret, little Margaret.

Can you?

Good.

Now come beside me.

Ictus.

Why were you little?

What?

Why were my papa called little?

Because he was little when I found him.

Like you.

String it.

Bend it with your leg as you saw me do.

Go to the window.

Knock an arrow.

Find a point.

Where the waters meet the sky.

Pull out our role through your mouth.

I will tell you when to lose.

And when I do.

You're not letting go.

You're simply not holding on anymore.

Now.

Watch that target.

Your body will always be moving.

Feel.

When that arrow will fly true.

You're gonna find a dance.

Hold until I tell you to lose.

You are strong.

Feel.

That's the way.

That dance.

Now lose.

Between the north and east Blowed every chill and cold More coldly
blowed to me at least My clothes were thin and old The cross

hole dropping wet with dew Low bends the
tiny spheres The lowly days he bended to More

lowly with mighty tears Oh, lookless youth,
to sorrow born, shunned son of poverty.

The wailed, made gamely sport
and scorn, and grinning gimp for me.

Unequalled though my
sorrow seems, but great in detail.

Oh, hear my sorrows for my
stream, you'll find an equal fear.

The land and netting, so no
more, the pastures to work on.

The greens, the meadows, and
the moors, are all cut up and gone.

The scarce are greens, what spot
remains, and scarce a single tree.

All naked I hear your native
planes, and yet are dear to thee.

Oh, then what trees, my plants they
crawl, what willows flourished here.

But I used the axe that cut them
down, those senseless wretches of earth.

Although their aching hands did
wield, the axe that gave the blow.

It was not them that owned this
field, nor planned its overthrow.

Their foes and wien are lawless
foes, but flows themselves they hold.

Which clipped wing justice can't
oppose, but forced in yields to gold.

These are the fools of mine and
thee, these all here who ain't planned.

Although they never felled a
tree, nor took a tooth in hand.

So they willed here a common
field, that nothing can be saved.

There lay the greens and pastures
waste, they dropped into its grave.

Reflection pierces, deadly keen,
while with moral grounds we scan.

Damn dare you to change yourself
the creep, so too the life of man.