Original subtitles

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

MAN: Mine's the biggest in the regiment. WOMAN: I bet it is!

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

MAN: Oi-oi!

WOMAN: Shut your fucking mouth!

Hello, Pa.

See you soon, Mr Benjamin.

Thank you, Kitty.

I've got Harris's List. (GASPS)

(LAUGHS) Give it back!

(LAUGHTER)

Woo!

(LAUGHS)

Oi! Give it back!

You shouldn't be reading that, you virgin.

Give it back, you slut!

Let's see what's in here about you girls. (GROANS)

Here's yours, Fanny. "Miss Fanny Lambert.

The very thing in winter for those who love a fat, jolly girl.

A fine, bouncing comely wench

and not amiss in summer, barring perspiration."

Does it say I stink?

Perspire doesn't mean stink.

Yeah, it does. (LAUGHS)

Here's Kitty's. I've read mine already.

I'm appealing. Appalling.

Read mine. No, Emily. Wait your turn.

"Betsey Fletcher, Russell Street.

This girl is new upon the town,

having been debauched not six months ago."

She's one of Nancy's girls. What's in there for Nancy?

(GIGGLES)

Fanny, Kitty, you're both wanted.

Culls are waiting.

"Nancy Birch, Russell Street..."

(WHIP CRACK)

"..when flagellation is required,

she acquits herself to the entire satisfaction of her cull."

(LAUGHTER)

Read your sister's. "Miss Charlotte Wells.

Her extravagance would scatter the fortune of any

but the most ambitious keeper, but her eyes dart delight."

(LAUGHS)

"Her bosom enchants to rapture

and her wit makes her the very meteor of the hour."

I'll be in there next year.

I doubt it. Your ma keeps you cosseted up like a baby.

She's waiting for the right cull.

Better get a move on. You're losing your shine. What, like you have?

Read mine. "Miss Emily Lacey.

A wretched piece.

Nasty, disagreeable,

snuffy letch..." (LAUGHTER)

"..without even one good quality."

It doesn't say that. I bet it does.

"Walks like a parrot..."

(LAUGHTER)

"..and swears like a drunken drab..."

When the time comes, I hope your quim splits!

Emily Lacey!

All o' you.

We've got an officer out there

with such a hard prick he can hardly walk.

Mr Gibbon's arrived to ponder the riddle of the female

and you're all on your goods like pecking hens.

MAN: Take me to the circus, please! (SMIRKS)

Emily, go and service Mr Holland before he expires.

Eat fast. Scrub up.

Stop vexing my best girl.

I need you to play.

(CLASSICAL MUSIC)

She's as pure as the snow on St Paul's.

What's your price, so I may have her?

You're a valued patron, Mr Gibbon.

So you'll pardon my candour when I tell you

you'll mount that harpsichord before you have my daughter.

Crawling your way up in the world?

I'm soon taking a fine new house in Soho, Greek Street.

When we're settled there,

I'll be taking sealed bids for Lucy's virginity.

£25 to have her now.

Sealed bids, as I did for Charlotte, my older daughter.

She's one of the brightest stars in London's firmament...

..and I intend no less for Lucy.

Miss Lambert, at last.

Fanny, the lieutenant would cherish a voyage on your peaks.

At your service. I'll give you £30 to have her now on that stool.

That's out the question. Forty.

I know her value. Fifty.

Fifty pounds.

Lucy?

What IS keeping Miss Carter?

What a hell-bound spider you are.

I'm clawing my way upwards in the world, Mr Gibbon, not down.

"At Lydia Quigley's house of earthly delights,

Michelangelo himself could not do justice

to the perfect alabaster of Miss Pettifer's bosom."

The musk, Madam. That's most gratifying.

I'm sure I don't deserve it.

(SNIFFS) The French piece.

Read hers.

"Miss D'Aubine, Golden Square, Soho..."

It says here you're dead behind the eyes.

Charles?

Morte derriere les yeux.

I want eager zeal. Comprends?

Or you'll go to the pimps of Cheapside

and you won't be smiling then.

(SPEAKS FRENCH)

She says that, from now on, she'll be the very spirit of joy.

We're rehearsing a tableau, Mama.

Diana bathing with her nymphs. Look... Hm.

The Duke of Cumberland is bringing his retinue after the play.

Make sure he gets anything he wants.

Where are you going?

To watch the sport in Covent Garden.

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

(MOANS)

(SNIFFS)

(GRUNTS)

"..radiant young votary

Venus possesses between her lithesome legs.

The gateway to the Temple of Bliss."

That's me.

(GIGGLES)

I'm bliss. I'm radiant.

(LAUGHS)

(PANTING)

(GROANS)

(GRUNTS)

I am sunk in lust and lechery.

What is the cost to my soul?

Five shillings.

(DOG BARKS)

Go home to your wife, Ned.

WOMAN: We'll cleanse these streets

with the fire of purity in our hearts!

You two, over there... The fornicators! The adulterers!

The abusers of themselves!

The child stealers and all the abominations of Sodom. Come on!

They have taken our great city and sunk it in the vilest sin.

Get in there! Go! Get in that door! Get in there!

Get them out! Get them out here!

Come on!

(SHOUTING)

..darkened.

God lights his righteous fire tonight.

The burning of the harlots.

Burning! (WOMAN SCREAMS)

Shit. Margaret!

They're coming for us!

(SPLINTERING GLASS)

(SCREAMING)

We will cleanse these streets with the fire of purity. (SPITS)

It is God's work we do tonight.

Let us pray that we do it well.

(BANGING ON DOOR) They've never touched us,

all the years we've been here. (WOMAN SCREAMS)

I'll hold 'em off. (BANGING ON DOOR)

(BANGING CONTINUES)

MAN: Open the door in the name of the King!

Wait a while. Why wake Christian people in the middle of the night?

(SCREAMING)

Let go of me!

Feel God's righteous fire!

Burn, harlots!

Burn, you sinners!

If you want it, you can get it!

Will you walk with me? If we seem a couple, they might not arrest me.

I'm sorry.

Please, Mr Oswald...

(SPLINTERING GLASS)

Arrest every harlot!

Stay there while I turn them around!

(SCREAMING)

(SPLINTERING AND CRASHING)

Jacob, son, up to the attic and hide!

(KNOCKING ON DOOR) Open the door!

It pains me to tell you that the constables have come.

I haven't finished yet. Curse you!

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

I need to get you out.

What is it? What is it? What do we do?

Go out the back, Lieutenant.

Get these on.

Who dares interfere with an Englishman's right to go whoring?

Mr Holland! Set yourself straight!

Think of the safety of these girls. We should run. Let's run!

No. If you run, you'll be rape fodder.

My clothes!

Go to Charlotte and tell her what's happening.

Get yourself straight, girls.

MAN: Open the door!

(WOMAN SCREAMS) Open the door!

Margaret Wells, I'm charging you

under the Disorderly Houses Act of 1752,

that you do keep an obscene and bawdy house.

You lie and your warrant is a trumped-up sham.

Come on, ladies, don't make this - Get your hands off my girls!

(GLASS SMASHING)

Come!

I'm not going anywhere! Get off me!

Out!

Will! Get your hands off!

How will I come find you?

Will!

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

Will!

No! No! Get off me! (SPLINTERING GLASS)

Let me go!

Get off me now!

Get your hands off me, you bastard!

Get off me! Get off!

Get off me! Get off! (CRASHING)

Ow!

Ow! Get off me!

(WOMAN SOBS)

(WOMAN SCREAMS)

(SLEEPS SOFTLY)

Charlotte?

Howard?

I've ridden hard to be with you.

Now you must ride harder.

I pine for you.

Night after night, all alone.

Have you signed the contract?

Are you mine? I want to be your lord and master.

Surely you don't wanna talk about that now.

(GROANS)

(GASPS)

(GRUNTS)

What's in the box?

It's a gift, isn't it? Wait!

(PANTING)

You are the pineapple of Great Britain.

Most lovers would bring pearls.

I cut it from a hot house.

As I did so, I thought of Eve.

She came to my mind in your form.

Naked, she was tempted by such fruit.

(GRUNTS) Tempted to know sin.

(GROANS)

(GASPS)

So if I am Eve, then you are...?

The serpent.

(GRUNTS)

A person is here for Miss Wells.

Her sister. Lucy? (GRUNTS)

Well, curse you! Why didn't you damn well wait?

It's Ma.

MARGARET WELLS: I pay my taxes and my levies.

I support the night watch.

I donate to the parish for the poor.

I keep my house in excellent repair.

The warrant is signed by a witness who declares that

he paid you for intimate congress with the women who abide with you.

What witness? The court is not obliged to name them.

I take money for furnished rooms. These girls are my tenants.

There's nothing illegal in rent - Your business is procuring harlots!

(JEERING) Nothing would distress this dissolute and shameless whore.

Order! Let not her tongue sway you,

for this harlot has slithered from her mother's womb -

Sit down! ..to lure mankind to vice.

No, sir. I am Charlotte Wells and I am here to speak for my mother.

Sit down, Charlotte. The warrant must be faulty and the witness false.

He can only have been paid to smear my mother's name.

How dare you interrupt this court?

We are pursued and harried like prey. That's right. Yeah.

My mother protects her girls because the law does not.

Hear, hear. Charlotte, sit down!

These she-hounds are a cancer in our city.

Margaret Wells should be commended for the way she runs her house.

Oh, save us. She is the exemplar of all the bawds in London.

In your own words,

you have admitted that your mother is a common bawd.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

I grieve for the desperate women I have seen today

who, faced with starvation, have sold their flesh,

but you are no such creature, Margaret Wells.

You are a leech grown fat upon the sins of others. Not true!

A vile parasite engaged in a brutal trade. (CACKLES)

I fine you £100 for running a disorderly house.

If I see you before me again,

I'll have you whipped and transported.

Empty the court! That's justice? It's not enough!

That is not enough! Clear the court!

That is not enough! You shut your mouth! Where's your shame?

Florence Scanwell, that blind bitch!

Someone had to shut her up.

You've imperilled my move to Greek Street.

My final payment was due today.

How am I gonna afford it now? I'll help you.

Most certainly. A hundred pound.

I have some pressing gaming debts. Once they're clear...

You're contracted to a baronet. He should be paying your debts.

Ma, I haven't signed.

How can I relinquish my freedom to a man who thinks I'm a pineapple?

Damn you for a stupid slut.

You need to be his property.

Men don't respect whores, they respect property.

That's for what you made me.

I've got excellent news, august and venerable madam. The Wells woman...

(WHISPERS)

(MUTTERS) Margaret Wells, leaving us to walk home!

Why couldn't she get us sedan chairs?

They took all the money. She's as tight as a nun's nip.

Why are you moaning?

She loves you. (LAUGHS WRYLY)

She loves my profit. She loves my pert heavers.

She'd have 'em worn to sagging and for what?

Enough of your spite and lamenting.

You're like a stinging fly.

(BABY CRIES IN DISTANCE)

(DOG BARKS IN DISTANCE)

My cunny puts food on his table.

Sick of Covent Garden.

Sick of Margaret Wells and her two-faced clucking.

Sweet Emily, why don't you just cluck off?

When's your shift tonight? It's all day.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Our new home, if I can still pay for it.

That money-grabbing landlord. What a weasel.

He's giving me till Monday, but he's hiked the rent.

Ma, there's your solution. Sell her virginity.

I'm keeping you intact till we move in.

Why, when it's coming anyway? You'll get a finer class

and you may leap to where Charlotte is in one great step.

You had me out at 12.

Do not think I balk at it. (SIGHS)

You wanna keep her immaculate, fine. Let her marry a shopkeeper.

And see a man own verything she earns?

I wouldn't wish marriage on a dog.

I'm worth at least £50, Ma.

They can view tonight at the Playhouse

and I'll take sealed bids.

You'll be a Wells woman through and through.

Have you heard? Yes!

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

..the likes of me!

Oh, no. Standards. We have standards.

I believe in your crusade against the daughters of vice.

It is not my intention to charge you any rent.

I am a plain speaker, Mrs Quigley.

I am not ignorant of your name or your house.

You suckle and nurture an evil trade in flesh.

Why offer me this?

You currently live in a hovel.

You cannot see your child, but she is stooped and thin

with the pallor of a ghost.

What do you want?

I want you to impale Margaret Wells on the spear of your campaign.

There are viler bawds than she.

I am fit and well and my cheeks are rosy.

I'd like to see Margaret Wells publicly flayed

until her back resembles a latticed tart.

Would you not enjoy that too?

Make an example of her.

(SNIFFS)

I worship you, George Howard.

(KNOCKING)

Enter.

I've prepared fresh copy... of the contracts, My Lord.

You'll be responsible for her debts as well as her upkeep.

I must advise you, it will drain your funds.

I want sole ownership now.

I want Charlotte Wells contracted as mine.

"A busy week. The toast of the town,

Miss CW, lately in the keeping of young Baronet Hardhead."

She was blazing a trail at the boxing on Tuesday.

A masquerade on Wednesday.

She said she'd been living like a nun.

She was out every night.

You knew.

Well, why didn't you damn well tell me?

(BABY CRYING IN DISTANCE)

Come in for a nip of gin, Mags.

Florence Scanwell, Nancy, what do we know about her?

Well, they say that on her wedding night,

she saw her husband's prick and thought it such a fiendish thing

she stabbed her own eyes out with a brooch.

(CACKLES)

(GIGGLES)

These boys come to pay my rent.

Strange about the timing, though, innit?

Just when you're set to move up in the world, you get raided.

Who wants me, Nance?

Who have you offended?

Whose name is on my warrant?

(CLASSICAL CHORAL MUSIC)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(SOARING CHORAL MUSIC)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Look what came to the door, Ma.

I would have sent it away, but it had some rather unusual curves.

It's looking for a position.

Oh, I'm never stuck for a position, sir.

It's got spunk.

I've been told Mrs Quigley's the outstanding house.

This is my entry in Harris's List.

I have the gateway to the Temple of Bliss.

Have you been long on the town?

I've got good experience. I'm the best girl in my current house.

Any children? None living.

And what do you know of art and culture

and the current subjects of conversation?

I can talk if they want.

What instruments do you play?

The male instrument. (GIGGLES)

In other words, you're nothing more than a rutting post.

(SNAPS FINGERS)

Every one of my girls moves,

eats, speaks, sings and plays like a lady.

The only way she differs is in her worship of Venus.

I earn a fortune for my current house.

You're nothing but a bare, forked animal, my dear.

Shakespeare. And my girls would know that.

Take her out.

I am constantly asked for.

Mrs Wells has me on my back morning, noon and night

and I know I can do better.

Presumably Wells owns the dress you're standing in.

What's your debt to her?

I don't know. Maybe £5.

As an act of benevolence, I'll settle it.

Then your debt becomes payable to me.

Ah, so you will take me?

I'll have to refine you and dress you in a proper style.

These costs will be added to your debt,

so you'll work like a black, do you understand?

(DOOR SLAMS)

(KEY TURNS IN LOCK)

Wai... You can't lock me in!

Wait.

Let me out!

(RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)

You are cutting out my heart, you treacherous whore!

Howard!

"Pining alone"?

"Living like a nun"?

Don't dare come to the Playhouse tonight, you cheating liar.

You don't deserve to live!

(DOOR OPENS)

Mama's ordered me to try to the goods.

You let me out,

or I'll tell every cull I'm a prisoner here.

You'll be hanged for a kidnapping pimp

and so will Mrs Quigley.

Then go...

(CLOSES DOOR) ..as soon as your debt is paid.

What's your name?

Emily Lacey.

Miss Lacey.

I bet you made that up.

What's your real name? Sally Piddle?

I'm the Duchess of Quim.

(CHUCKLES)

I'll wager you're a wild, bouncing kind of a ride.

We'll teach you all the refinements you'll need:

music, dancing, French.

So climb on.

I won't harm you. Look.

We had a girl who left to be mistress to the Duke of Norfolk.

So...

..you'll teach my cunny French (?)

(CHUCKLES) Oui.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Stay.

You need rest.

I must sort things for Lucy.

I've reserved a box.

The word is out.

You will have bids.

See what I've been keeping for you?

My mother took me down St Martin's Lane.

She'd spent every last farthing on her gin, the slut.

She was a bunter.

No-one'd go near her.

She sold me to a bawd for a pair of shoes.

I was ten.

I know.

Do you know that woman's name?

Mrs Quigley.

She dressed me warm.

She gave me a full meal.

She said if I pleased her gentleman,

I'd be her own, sweet girl.

I swore it wouldn't be like that for you.

I gave you schooling.

I gave you time.

Do you like 'em?

They don't fit.

Then make 'em.

(DISTANT BELL TOLLS)

(SIGHS)

Howard.

Where's your fine lady? In Richmond.

Not your wife, man.

He means Miss Wells.

Lord Repton is besotted with Miss Wells.

The sister comes out tonight. Have you heard?

Wells, Junior.

Maidenhood to the highest bidder

and I swear that will be me.

Mm. My husband loves a hymen.

(GIGGLES)

I had Charlotte's.

I would like her sister's too.

(CHUCKLES)

(GIGGLES)

Have you seen it before? We saw it last year.

It's a Turkish confection, I think.

It's all there for the taking, Lucy.

Stop!

I've carried you before, Miss Wells.

I'd be insulted you don't recall, only I was at the back.

(CHUCKLES)

Now I've graduated to the front. Congratulations.

But I won't be doing this for very long.

I thought I might set myself up as a fancy man.

There must be many a lady

who'd pay for a throw with a well-shaped man like me.

My price is very fair.

I'd even give you the first one for free.

Nothing comes for free, sir.

You would. I guarantee it.

Right, Seamus...

You're a harlot, sir.

# O, too lovely

# Too unkind

# If my lips

# No credit find

# Pierce my breast

# Strong in virtue

# Strong in love

# Guiltless

# Wretched

# Left forlorn

# And worse

# Than murdered...

You lied to me. You went out every night I was away.

Yes, but all of London knows my constancy.

So why did you not sign my contract?

I don't want to be owned like your wife.

Then I have no surety of your faith.

You have my word.

A whore's word!

(MURMURING)

Take it or not, as you please.

# ..by thy scorn

# O, too lovely

# Too unkind What have you done?

Why does he scorn you?

I won't sign his poxy contract.

(You're the village idiot.) # Wo-o-o-orse than

# Murdered by

# Thy scorn #

Yes. Bravo.

Bravo.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(Excuse me.)

(Lucy.)

(Lucy.)

Lucy, whatever is the matter?

Control yourself.

You must shine.

(KNOCKING)

Lord Repton. My dear.

Let me see her.

Silly girl.

The opera moves her. She cries.

Why, the poor lamb...

Please.

May I offer you this note?

Gentlemen, I'm considering all bids.

I'm not ready.

It's not hard.

You'll learn to be the queen of pretend, as I am.

You know why the men sing so high, don't you?

Done to them when they're little boys,

to stop their voices breaking.

That's the cruelty of the opera.

The subject is love,

but the men have no balls and the virgins are all played by whores.

The tears worked, you clever minx.

They want you more than ever.

(KNOCKING)

Nancy sent me.

Who signed that warrant? Charles Quigley.

Lydia Quigley!

Are you coming after me wi' lawmen and judges? You?

See how the sluice rat behaves at the opera.

I want £100 or I'll have you up

before a judge for malicious prosecution.

(GIGGLES) You really think you'll have the judge's ear?

Oh!

One of your girls came to me today.

Pert little doxy by the name of Emily Lacey.

A very rideable piece. She's mine now.

You cannot steal my girls.

She implored me to take her from your fly-blown cunny-house.

Damn you for a kidnapping pimp.

Come, my doves, let's leave this rat to eat its young.

(CHUCKLES)

He offers twice the highest bid.

For me?

We need the money.

Then take it.

If you're free to lie and cheat and play the whore,

then so will I be!

(LAUGHTER)

(RAUCOUS LAUGHTER)

(WOLF-WHISTLING) Look at this quagmire you've come from.

Look what I've done for you.

Your sister will realise I'm quite man enough.

You may wait.

I'd rather be cut in quarters.

Charlotte?

Charlotte, you infernal whore!

I'll go after her, My Lord.

We are honoured by your generous bid.

My precious girl.

I'm yours, My Lord.

(Charlotte...)

Why are you driving him away?

He's an easy keeper.

He's a snake.

You could have him dropping jewels on your pillow, but no.

You provoked him to this spite.

Indulge him.

Take his contract.

I'm thinking about your future.

You have never, ever had to sell yourself for pence or beg for food.

My ma sold me for a pair of shoes.

I've heard about those shoes so many times

I could start a cobbler's.

The only safety is in money.

I hate money.

Money is a woman's only power in this world.

You make it your solace and your dream and one day wealth,

real, lasting wealth, will make you free.

Are you free?

I will be when I'm in my new house.

Thank you, Ma, for all you've done,

for Lucy and for me.

You never, ever sold us short.

Oh, I can't get it in, you slut.

(GRUNTS)

(GRUNTS) I'm as soft as a rotted fruit.

Curse you.

You are the most tedious piece of flesh I've ever had in my life.

Even more insipid than my dull, fatiguing wife. (BED CREAKING)

(GRUNTS)

You're clearly frigid, still a virgin.

I shall ask your mother for my money back. No.

Please, My Lord, just...

Just tell me what to do.

I've had enough of you.

I'll do anything you like, just don't tell my ma.

In return for my silence...

..you will tell everyone that I impaled you hard.

(GASPS)

When Charlotte asks what it was like, what will you say?

It was like the opera.

(VOMITS)

(COUGHS)

(SPLUTTERS) # Once I slept on a feather bed

# With blankets woollen warm (COUGHS)

# Now I'm glad to lay my head

# On a cloak that's old and torn

# So sing with me a merry catch

# As summer days will come

# My love, he is a soldier boy

What did I tell you? # So I'm following the drum

(LAUGHTER) # With a patter-patter tat

# And a rattle and a scrap Come on.

# And the beat of the marching song

(GROANS) # I'm ragged and I'm worn

# And my hose are torn (INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Yeah, I'll meet you there. # Yet I am following along

# Oh, once I ate from a silver plate

# With sauces rich and rare

Do you need a ride? # Now I'm glad if I'm not too late

My offer still stands. # To find some bread to share

Like I said, the first one for free.

Think like a whore.

How much can you get? # Once I wore a silken shawl

A guinea. # And a bonnet of ribbon trim

For what? Tell me your charms.

# Now I'm glad if I'm clad at all

I offer you love.

You're a fool. # 'Twixt my ankles and my chin

For a harlot,

that doesn't exist. # Oh, sew with me a sturdy stitch

# And do not prick your thumb

But, then, I have nothing. # My love, he is a soldier boy

# So I'm following the drum

Hunger in my stomach and a mouthful of breeze.

# With a patter-patter tat

# And a rattle and a scrap Here's tuppence.

What's that for? # And the beat of the marching song

Company.

# I'm lame and tired before my time

# And still I follow him along (INDISTINCT CHATTER)

# Oh, I'm lame and tired

# But still I smile

# And still I follow... #

(FIRE CRACKLING)

I want your forgiveness.

Eight shillings.

(SOFT ROCK MUSIC PLAYS OVER SCENE)

(THUDDING DRUM BEAT)

(MUSIC CONTINUES)

I prayed for boys, William.

Every time.

I prayed for a boy.

She's strong, like her mother.

The city is made of our flesh.

Every beam, every brick.

We'll have our piece of it.

# Once I slept on a feather bed

# With blankets woollen warm

# Now I'm glad to lay my head

# On a cloak that's old and torn

# So sing with me a merry catch

# As summer days will come

# My love, he is a soldier boy

# So I'm following the drum

# My love, he is a soldier boy, so I'm following the drum #

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