All language subtitles for fanny-lye-deliverd-2020.

Subtitles by explosiveskull
@ subs4free.info

Her name was Fanny Lye.

But she weren't the same woman then.

She'd only known the land, the toil,

and the war, of course,

washing over her like waves of fire.

Horse's arse!

Her husband, Captain John,

he came in '46 with Cromwell's army.

Bought her master's farm at auction.

Soon had more than he bargained for.

There was a kind of love between 'em.

Some shared affection, I suppose.

Though the Captain's first love
was the Holy Book,

an 'abit he acquired in his youth
adventuring for the Dutch.

In '49, the war was done,
and the King, he lost his head.

It seemed to us that anything
was possible, for a time.

For Fanny, though,
the seasons came and went.

Blackhill Farm, from eastern hedge
to western wood, was her world.

Till the day the strangers came.

Turned that whole world upside down,

and delivered Fanny Lye from one life...

into the next.

Whoa. Whoa.

Captain John, he'd planted
a special crop inside her belly,

a boy who grew as this new England
grew up all around.

Handsome boy.

Arthur, his father's son,

too young to know the war,
he was a soft and playful soul.

Where's my stick?
I can't find it!

'Twas where you left it, sir.

Arthur?

Arthur, where did you put my coif?

Get a move on.

- Else we'll be late for worship.
- Arthur, if you go on...

And don't forget that cauldron.

I don't understand it.

I'm sure I left it on the chair...

Why!

Arthur, it's filthy! Oh, Arthur!

- Do you wanna try me, eh?
- Father! Father!

Hey! Oi! We'll have none of that.

What do you think you're playing at,
girl? Get a move on.

Go on.

Never let a woman best you, boy.
Have I taught you nothing?

You've got to show the Lord
more spirit than that, you know.

Yes, sir.

Good boy.

As Fanny readied for church
that morning,

she had no way to know
it was the very last time

her family would ascend that hill

and worship on the Lord's day together.

Fanny?

Instead, her mind turned
to a verse of Scripture

learned her as a child.

"Bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things,

endures all things."

♪ My God deliver me

♪ From those that are mine enemies

♪ And do thou me defend

♪ From those that up against me rise

Come on, Arthur.

♪ Do thou deliver me from them

♪ That work iniquity

♪ And give me safety from the men

♪ Of bloody cruelty...

The sermon was the usual sort,

and Fanny headed home thinking more
of what to sup than any lesson learned.

Then the farm came into view
and John said...

Did you leave that fire burning?

I don't reckon.

Had they turned back round
and sought the Constable,

as in hindsight would've been wise,

who can say how Fanny's life
might've worked out different?

But there is a strange attraction
held by danger... and the unknown.

Come on. Good lad.

Who goes there?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, sir.

Begging your pardon.
I don't mean no harm.

What the devil are you doing
in my barn, eh?

Why, you arrant thief!
Those are my clothes you're wearing!

I'll teach thee manners!

Please, sir, begging your pardon.

I'll send thee back to Satan!

Sir, if you give me
a chance to speak.

We was beset upon the road.

Do you believe you can dance
into a man's farm and make like home?

A man's home is his castle!

I've every right to put you down.

Please, my wife, sir. Please, my wife.

- I can explain.
- Let him speak, sir.

Well, stop babbling, boy.

What's this about a wife?

My wife, sir, er...

You see,

last eve, we was travelling
on the road to Gloucester,

headed from there to Bristol
and a boat to the New World.

We was carrying all our savings,
all we had in the world,

looking to make a fresh start, see?
A new beginning.

But alas, it was not to be.

You see, as the dusk fell,

we was beset
by villainous highwaymen.

It's a true misfortune, woe betold.

They stripped us of all we had,
our horses, every last groat,

down to the shoes on our feet
and the shirts on our backs.

Since then, we've been moving all night,
sir, no idea where we was headed,

when we comes upon this fine home,
quite by chance, like.

Well, if there'd been an answer
when I'd knocked but...

My wife, sir,
she's exhausted and cold and...

she couldn't take it no more.

And without clothes, you understand.

And I am sorry for the liberty, sir.
Truly, I am.

Never would I wish
to impose upon another.

But... given these rare
and unhappy circumstances,

we was left with no other choice
in the matter.

Where's your wife now?

She's, er... she's resting
up there in the perch. Apologies.

Fanny?

You be careful now.

Come and look, sir.

Arthur? Give me my stick.

You try it, anything,

and I'll slit your gullet
from ear to ear

- before you can draw breath.
- Understood, sir.

- I promise, my intentions is fair.
- Yeah.

You sure she's not sick?

No. Just exhausted,
like I told it.

Well, she looks healthy enough.

It's like I told it.

You watch where you feast your eyes,
John Lye.

You mind your mouth, girl.

Them marks might turn nasty.

- I'll go make up a salve.
- That's awful good of you, ma'am.

- Be much appreciated.
- Go on, now.

- What's your name, boy?
- Thomas Ashbury. Pleased to meet you.

Newlyweds, are you?

Aye. Well, yeah,
we been married four month.

Sit.

Where do you hail from, Thomas?

I'm of Salisbury. Born and bred.

And your wife?

Oh, a...

a village near Westchester,
name of Nettlebred.

Husbandman? Artisan?

I am... Well, I was...

a travelling cooper.

And a soldier, for a time,
in General Cromwell's army.

Oh, a good old cause.

I played my part
against the Scots and the Irish.

Putting down the popish swine.

You served too, sir?

Captain John Lye,
for Henry Ireton,

Regiment of Horse.

Well, I suppose I should salute.

Arthur! Come away from that door!

Seven years on his service,
from Edge Hill to Drogheda.

If it weren't for this leg...

- Drogheda, you say?
- That's right.

Come on!

It was an unfortunate business,
if ever I laid eyes.

I don't believe God doth view it so.

Sit down, mind your business, boy.

Spirited lad.

Aye, well, you've got to teach them
by the Lord's example.

Psalm and prayer.

Spare the rod at your peril.

So...

to the matter at hand.

We're at thy mercy, sir.

Well, seeing as it's the Lord's day,

and with the girl, and you being
a brother-in-arms and all,

I'll allow you to stay.

- Till the morning.
- Thank you very much, sir.

We're much obliged.

Course, you have to spend the night
in the barn with the mice.

That'll be just fine.

Thank you, sir. One night is all we ask.

And tomorrow, after breakfast,
we'll ride on to Ludlow,

which is eight miles east of here,

and you can report your misfortune
to the Constable.

Oh...

Well, er, thank you, sir, but, erm...

it wouldn't be right to impose on you
such a journey.

We'll be fed and on our way
in the morning, no bother.

It is no bother. Think nothing of it.

To speak frankly, sir,

I don't know what no constable
can do for us.

Can he magic back our savings?

Or our horses?

No, I think not.

Therefore,
I don't quite see the benefit.

It isn't just yourself, now, is it?
'Tis a matter of law and order.

And as the Good Lord says,

"He that hath friends
must show himself friendly."

So that's my offer.

And we accept gratefully. Thank ye.

Aye.

And so it was
that Thomas Ashbury and myself,

for I was the young woman in the barn,
as you might've guessed,

came to enjoy the hospitality
of Mr and Mrs John Lye.

Her touch was firm but gentle,

pulling me slowly back up
towards the world.

I was a child again in my mother's arms.

Then the cold of the balm

causing a shifting state.

Something wrong,

be it angel or demon,
holds me in its grasp.

- What?
- Hello.

Who be...?

Where am I?

You're safe now, sweetheart. Don't fret.

You've been in the wars, you have.

Where's Thomas?

Your husband?

Aye.

Look.

- Here she comes now.
- Rebecca.

Thomas.

I'll leave you two alone.

There are some clothes on the beam.

Thank you, ma'am.

How's my darling girl, eh?

- Tired.
- Hmm?

Are they coming?

No. No. We got away.

It's just us now. You and me.

And we gotta look out for each other.

Have you got it?

What?

Oh.

Don't you worry. It's safe.

Show me.

Thank the Lord.

..a spirit of holy watchfulness...

We quick resolved to win
their hearts and stay a while longer.

Poor sweet lad, eh?

To hold
until our troubles passed us by.

Thomas, though,
he couldn't help himself.

I could always tell
when he had mischief in his eye.

Might I be of help?

Thank ye kindly, sir, but no.

"Thomas", please.

You quite sure of that?

Well, Sir Thomas,

you may pick the medlars
from the hayloft, if you so desire.

All right. What number?

Now, pick only the overripe,

and we need,
ooh, I'd say... 40 for the tart.

Let's see, erm...

No.

No, no... Ah.

There we are. Look.

I need to get back to my roast.

Of course.

We ought to have been hiding,
plotting our escape.

Instead, in that moment, we was free.

All us souls floating
in the ether together.

When you open up
your heart and mind,

joy and bliss are but a blink away.

Hey, boy?

One for you, boy?

It's your loss.

- Thomas, what did I say?
- Shh-shh.

Whoopsie! Sorry about that. Sorry.

That's it.

Come on, then. Come on.

Get me back. Throw one back.

Go on. Yeah, that's it.

Come on!

Wahey-hey!

That's a boy! Come on, have another.

That's the way.

Come on.

Whoops! Sorry!

Come on!

Prithee, peace.

Prithee, peace!

Arthur!

Yeah!

Thomas?

Oh!

- Arthur.
- Your boy's fine.

Nothing to worry about.

Captain John,

truly, it's all my fault.

And you, Fanny.

Sir, truly, if it's a villain you seek,
then I'm the one.

Truly. Sir, if I may say,

don't be hard on the young lad
because...

Captain John?

Captain John, I... I...
really beg your pardon...

- - One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

- Five.
- Don't get involved.

- Six.
- He took us in.

- Seven.
- We don't want no trouble.

Eight.

Thomas, take a walk, eh?

Right, Fanny.

Fanny always held that John
took no pleasure in chastisement...

- One!

...believing it his godly duty
to keep them on the righteous path.

- Four!
- I have never been convinced.

Five!

Six!

Seven!

We did not stray far,

wary of what might lie
within the woods,

them beasts that roam
in the shape of men.

Let us pray.

We consecrate this meat
to Lord Almighty God.

Thanks be to Thee for this food
You put before us.

Enter.

The wanderers return.

I didn't know we'd see you again.

Oh, no, sir, you must be japing.

The thought of all that roast.

We haven't had beef in over a month,
have we, Thomas?

- Er, no, that's right.
- Hmm. Fanny?

Thank ye, ma'am.

Thomas has something he'd like to say.

Don't you, Thomas?

That's right, yeah.

Captain John Lye,

for not respecting
the rules of thy house,

and for spoiling the fruits
of thy labour,

I do humbly and sincerely apologise.

It isn't me you have
to settle with, lad,

but the Lord Jesus Christ.

- Aye, well, that I shall do.
- Hmm. Well, come, then. Sit.

Let us pray.

We consecrate this meat
to Lord Almighty God.

Thanks be to Thee for this food
You put before us.

May it provide us with
the sustenance we require

to continue to serve Thy holy name.

Amen.

Amen.

The sun,
it rose again, unremarked.

We had been given Arthur's perch

whilst Fanny and John slept
in separate beds, as always.

'Fore breakfast,
Thomas helped John fetch coppice,

whilst I lent Fanny help in turn.

So, Rebecca, where will you
be headed after you see the Constable?

Looking for work, I guess.
I've been a servant,

so I know my way around
a pail of milk or a pair of britches.

Such a misfortune befell you two.

Gives me the shivers.

We'll get by, like we always do.

Don't you worry about me.

You've no family
you can go home to,

help you out in your hour of need?

Aye, well...

I suppose Mr Ashbury's
your master now.

Thomas ain't my master. No man is.

I go where I likes, with whom I likes.

Strange to think,

back in Drogheda, we was fighting
side by side and never knowed it, eh?

Course, back then, it was skulls
we was chopping, not wood.

Yeah, and none that weren't
a head too tall, eh? Off you go.

Wish I could be so bold.

All them women, children and old folks,

they didn't do nothing to me.

Trampled in a bloody contest
not their own.

Well...

"He that believeth in Him
shall not perish,

but have everlasting life."

"God sent not His son into the world
that He should condemn the world,

but that the world through Him
might be saved."

John 3:18.

I...

I don't think I understand.

So you and Mr Thomas,

you be not...

Why...

Why, that would mean
you must be living in sin!

Ain't you afraid?

Afraid of what?
The size of his member?

Afraid of hell, young lady!

Of fiery hell and torment!

And not to mention the law.

And such talk...

Oh, my.

The Devil will set upon you
with furious industry.

My poor, sweet girl!

You'll not tell your husband, I hope?

I thought we were speaking
in confidence.

I must consider your eternal soul.

I have to believe
it's never too late for a sinner.

Mr Lye could help you
on the path to righteousness.

- I do believe so.
- I don't need no righteousness.

Mrs Lye, I beg you,

don't bring us no more trouble and woe.

I suppose so.

I hope that righteousness ain't
the only thing he's skilled at finding.

I... I... I don't know what you mean.

Why, your husband.

I'd say he's quite handsome
for a man of his age.

My John?

I do declare you be teasing me,
Miss Rebecca.

I never met a girl so naughty
in my life.

I do try.

Fanny kept our secret over porridge.

A small act of rebellion
that would lead to bigger things.

She was her own person.
I knew that now.

Psst.

Psst.

There. Hello, porker.

We was waiting for John
to ready the horse,

intending to give him the slip
on the Ludlow Road.

Fate, however, had plans of her own.

Thomas?

Thomas, get down.

Father! Father!

Cease your noise. I see 'em.

Keep ye calm. Betray nothing.

- Friends of yours, eh?
- What's that, Captain?

Stay back.

No, I've never seen them before.

That one on the black's
quite the popinjay, eh?

Aye, if that's not the Constable
walking with 'em.

Well, that's the Constable, all right.

But what in God's will
is he doing over here?

You really have no idea,
Mr Ash... Mr A...

Why, you miserable brigand!

Now, you just stay where you are
and hold your peace.

I'm sorry to do this to you,

but them men out there,
they mean us harm.

And I can't let them come in here.
Understand?

Yes, sir. Don't hurt my son.

Ma'am, that is not my desire.

Now, you both...
you both keep your temper

and do as you're asked,

and this'll all be over soon,
I give you my word.

I knew you were a villain
the moment I laid eyes on you.

I promised I'd slit you from ear to ear.

- And by God, that's what I'll do.
- John, no.

Stay back!
Drop that blade or the boy dies.

Father!

- I will if you force me.
- You haven't got the belly for it.

I've done worse in my time.

So have you.

Please, sir, do as he says.

Heed your wife, sir.

She's got an 'ead on her.

Lay it on the table.

Now get back to the door.

You take a seat, Mrs Lye.

- Rebecca?
- You won't walk away from this.

Now, you've not seen us.

Your ears have heard no thing,

so you just send them on their way.

And make them believe it
or the boy dies first.

I'll watch you hang... slow.

Morning, Henry.

John.

Good day to you, sir.

Sir.

Of whom do I have pleasure?

I am the Most High Sheriff
of the Council of State,

charged with the suppressing

of atheistical, blasphemous
and execrable opinions

derogatory to the honour of God
and destructive to humane society,

whether they be expressed through
horrid preach or damnable practice,

so that God may be truly glorified

and all might in well-doing
be encouraged.

- Sir, I...
- The warrant.

Sire.

'Tis upside down.

It is?

My mistake.

- All seems to be in order.
- Of course.

So to the matter at hand.

We are in pursuit
of a pair of licentious heretics,

a young man and a young woman,

who did partake in profane display
this Saturday past

at a tavern less than five miles
from this ground.

What he means to say is,
there was a full-blown ranting orgy

at the Hopton alehouse.

No depravity or deceit is beneath a man
in pursuit of coin or carnal appetite.

This has been my finding.

They should've closed
that den of iniquity years ago.

- Didn't I tell you, Cousin Henry?
- Aye. That you did, John.

Hmm. And this is what it's come to.

Ranting orgy, you say?

Blasphemous oaths and execrations,

drunkenness, licentiousness,
swearing and sodomy,

unmarried men and harlots
fornicating in full public view.

Well, I'm stouned.

It's them High Attainers.

They preach that good is evil
and evil is good.

I mean, I've heard tell
of such a thing in London,

but never did I think
in our own fair county.

'Tis but a fortune that these men
put them to rout when they did.

Well, what can I say? I'm shocked.

But let us hasten to the cusp
of this distasteful dialogue.

In following these rotten escapees,
we did discover footprints.

Footprints that led us
from that horrid alehouse

and to your very property.

What say thee to this, Captain Lye?

Sir, you must be mistaken.

I haven't seen or heard a thing.

It's just me and Fanny and the boy
getting ready for the winter.

It's a simple life we live here
on Blackhill Farm.

Nevertheless, I'd be most obliged
if we might take a look inside, eh?

Sir, I've given you my answer.

No man comes on my land
without my sanction.

And I'll thank thee
to take me at my word.

Well, in that case, we have no cause
to trouble you further.

I apologise most sincerely
for the disturbance.

Oh, no disturbance.

I pray you catch them and drag them
to the deepest, darkest pit on earth.

That will be the least
of their sufferings.

I may rest assured.

Come.

Liars, thieves and murderers.

- Henry.
- John.

Course, John bought every word of it,
like a goose praying for Christmas.

Them men...
they ain't what they look to be.

We was at the alehouse,

that much is true,
but we was causing no harm to no one.

And then them men, they fell upon us,

fell upon us with fanatical violence,

visiting terrible pain and hurt
on man and woman alike.

Our friends lay dead and brutalised.

Only Rebecca and I
escaped the slaughter.

A likely tale.

- Sir, it is the truth.
- Yeah?

Where'd they find the warrant?

Perhaps a witch's cauldron.

That ain't worth
the parchment it's written on.

For fools and feebleminded only.

You knave! I ought to...

Ought to what? Stick a bag
over my head and tan my hide?

Yeah, I know men like you.

Sir, we've done all you ask of us.

Now, I humbly ask of you,
leave us be.

Nah.

Nah, it's not so simple no more.

Them men could be out there waiting.

Rebecca, get that rope there.

Secure this man.
You, move, now, there.

Kneel down.

There.

Mrs Lye, we'll be here
just a short while longer.

I do apologise.

Bind him tight, now.
Make sure he can't get loose.

Go on. You go see your ma.

No!

Now you behave yourself
like a good little missus.

Get away from my father!

Calm, John.

- I can't allow that again. I'm sorry.
- No, not his good leg!

- You hurt?
- I'm fine.

It's all true, isn't it?
Every word.

You're a degenerate.

A fornicator. A High Attainer.

You use that name again,
I'll smite your ears.

What, High Attainer?
That is what you are, isn't it?

You and your ranting harlot there.

There'll be no inheritance for thee
in the kingdom of Christ and God.

No!

With no more secrets to withhold,

Thomas resolved to speak his mind.

For the prophet's weapon of choice
is not the sword,

but words of blistering, shining power.

You call me a High Attainer.

But the opposite is true.

For I do not look up to the skies
for God or Heaven.

Here.

Here your treasure lies.

God and Devil,
they're both serving under me.

And her.

And even you, Great Captain.

If only you open up your insides
to earthly possibility.

I can but open up the gate

and point... to a New Jerusalem.

A land where sin and transgression
are no more.

A land where every man
and every woman,

and all through nature...

is shared in common.

A land where Christ,

the king of glory,
lies dead and buried, in His grave.

- - Aye. Aye.

Christ, I say, He did not rise.

He died and rotted back to nature

so that sin, so that all our sin,

might be forgiven for eternity.

So everything and every act
might become, from darkness, light.

So we might learn that Heaven, Hell,
these are but earthly realms.

There is no afterlife awaiting.

- I know thy thoughts, Great Captain.
- Yeah?

Honest words may cause
the strongest man to tremble

but do not be afraid.

For there is a spark in thee

of transplendent, unspeakable glory.

His boundless love shining forth
in you, in her, in me.

If you but listen to His voice,
listen to that inner voice

of love, of unity,

then thou shall find true freedom.

The Kingdom of Heaven on earth
shall be yours this very day.

But those who deny the godly impulse,

those who live by law
of priest and tyrant, beware,

for a great levelling is coming.

The sword of the Holy Spirit
brought forth in fire and vengeance

upon all who oppose the God
of perfect freedom and pure libertinism.

King Charles and the lords
have had their turn,

so Cromwell and his great ones
are next in line,

for they have made themselves
as tyrannical

as ever the King in his reign.

Those whose every care and industry
is to get and keep their God money,

to plump their purse
through laws of property and tithes

upon the back of the poor,
I say unto thee now,

thy gold and silver shall be consumed.

I, the Lord, shall come
as a thief in the night

with my sword drawn in hand.

And like a thief, I shall say,
"Deliver your purse."

"Deliver, sir.
Deliver, or I'll cut thy throat."

Sir, end this blasphemy,
I implore you.

Consider the woman and child.

But I rejoice, sir, I rejoice,

in delivering the truth
with all my heart,

howsoever it might be received by you,

wishing only to advise and warn
to deliver you and yours

from the coming plague and fire.

And with your wicked words, you do
crucify your saviour a second time.

You're a very great sinner, sir.

And the fire and plague
about which you speak

shall be upon your house.

Your bones shall lie dashed to pieces
at the bottom of the Mountain of Error.

- Sin, you say?
- Hm-hmm.

Sin? 'Tis but a word.

An imposture of the rich
to keep poor men in order.

Lies!

You turn the grace of God into...

wantonness,

a mere excuse
for drunken adultery, thievery

and all that Christ, Moses
and the Apostles

have thoroughly denounced.

What you call adultery, I call honesty.

Honesty to the voice of God within

that which, by reason,
must be fulfilled, not opposed.

As by the churches and the saints,
we must awaken from our sleep,

shake off the coverings,
take away the veil

and discover the truth,

that to the pure, all things are pure.

There is no act impure in God.

Love is God and God is love.

And thou art fair, my love.

There is no spot in thee.

By what heinous, hellish, impudent...

It was as if Fanny
had been living her entire life

in a darkened room.

Now a door was set ajar,
and a sliver of light peeped through.

..each must answer. For you see,

whatever act is done in light and love

is light and lovely,

whether it be that act you call
drunkenness or adultery and the like.

Oh, aye, to thee, to thee, it is a sin.

And for so sinning, thy imagination
will pursue thee and arraign thee

and condemn thee as a drunk
or an adulterer or a thief.

But that self-same act committed instead
without a grain of fear or guilt,

committed instead in light, in honesty,

why then, it is a blessed truth.

The mind of God apparent.

I have since been persuaded
that not all we held back then was true.

Just a normal day,
going about your business.

But I have no regrets.

And I do not apologise.

For rather a mighty angel swear
than an hypocrite preach and pray.

What think you?

I like it.

Hmm, a bit dour for my taste.

A sober woman's dress.

- - How's that?

Better? No?

Adds a touch of gaiety, I reckon.

You're a good boy, Arthur.

Nothing like your father,
if I might say.

What's that?
Don't speak bad about my father.

He's the bestest man in the world,
he is.

Every child thinks that, I reckon.
Oh, aye.

No matter if he whips your hide
for walking on the common on a Sunday

then come Friday, he's off whoring
and drinking like every man.

- Not my father.
- Perhaps.

See,

folks, they prate one thing

and then do another.

That's something you learn
as you get old.

Now, my Thomas,

he does it like he says it.

That's rare.

What are you doing
with my husband's Bible?

This book interests you greatly,
don't it?

No.

I mean...

Scripture ain't for a woman to touch.

Pious nonsense.

See.

What says that?

Well, I don't know.

J-O-H-N.

"John."

That's your husband's name.

And that?

- That says "John" as well?
- Right.

See? It ain't so difficult, is it?

You're wasting your time, Mr Ashbury.

I'm far too set in my ways.

You are as you feel yourself to be.

I see you have mead.

We do. For special occasion.

Go on.

Your husband...

I don't like how he treats you.

Mr Lye has done good by me.

I was but a lowly servant girl
and he raised me up.

Tell me, have you not swapped
one old yolk for another?

Except this one tans your hide

and demands carnal service
for the honour.

Really, sir.

It is the very opposite
of that you speak.

The opposite?

Oh.

Oh, I see.

By which you mean he fails
to tend to your womanly needs?

- Sir...
- Well, it's no less of a crime.

Which is not to say I'm surprised.

Sir,... this is no fit conversation
betwixt man and woman,

let alone two strangers
of least acquaintance.

Oh, but I say that it is.

Because my nature tells me so.

- Mr Ashbury...
- Fanny...

May I call you Fanny?

Mr Ashbury,

there is something that I feel
that I must say.

You do not strike me as a cruel man.

I see good in you.

I see it in your eyes.

What you see

is the eternal majesty
in each and every one of us.

Oh, well, I don't know about that.

Such matters are beyond
my woman's understanding.

Who tells you so? Eh?

There's a place in the New Jerusalem
for women

equal to that of any man.

Why, Christ, I've seen girls
stand up in church

and raise more hell
than ever I be capable.

- Oh, my.
- What is it?

You are new to me, Mr Ashbury,
that is all.

"Thomas", please.

You make a fine brew.

Mr Ashbury... Thomas,

if it please you,
might I humbly ask a kindness?

Well, that really depends
on what it is you mean to ask.

Well,

Thomas,

ain't it true we served our purpose?

Mightn't you find it in your heart

to go from here and...

and leave us be?

Still not learned, eh?

We need water for the braise.
Right, Fanny?

No, not you.

But his leg! He can't.

He can do whatever I say.

Isn't that right, Captain?

Unbind him. Go on.

Bit of fresh air might clear his head.

You'll not try nothing stupid this time,
will you, Captain?

Truth is, I hope you do.

Some resistance
was to be expected.

So now it was time for stage two.

Fuel the fire, raise the stakes.

Ah...

The lesson was extreme, perhaps,

but highly effective.

Fanny said later that she could almost
see the power drain away from John

and enter Thomas's body.

His spell enveloped her entire person.

John now, too...

He could see the changing of his world.

Or rather, with his eyes half closed,

one last glimpse of what had been.

Not so hard after all, eh?

The host, taken as pork and mead,

dispelling now the power of the book,

so that nothing might impinge
on the inner light.

Body of Christ.

Body of Christ.

Body of Christ.

Body of Christ.

The blood of Christ.

The blood of Christ.

Drink.

Deeper.

Laced with 'shrooms
for extra potency.

Rebecca?

- Oh!
- You go too far.

Tell me you do not feel the urge
to make one with this fine flesh.

"Give not thy strength unto woman,

nor thy ways to that
which destroyeth kings."

Thou must arise, Great Captain.

Arise.

Out of flesh and into spirit,
out of form and into power,

out of signs
and into the thing signified.

Till thou has acted out thy sin,
thou art not delivered from its power,

and may only tremble
and fear the reproach of thy body.

Thou worships a two-faced Janus!

Yield! For it is the Lord in you
inhabiting His secret place.

Arthur, avert your eyes!

Do not heed this devil!

Boy, open up yourself
to His eternal majesty within.

- Avert your eyes!
- He's near a man.

He is no such thing!

Therefore,
he must make the choice himself.

Cover his eyes, I say!

Arthur.

What say you, Arthur, hmm?

How does your inner voice intone?

Arthur,

it is your decision to make.

Avert your eyes, I say!

Hmm?

I... I do believe it's way past
the boy's bedtime.

Yeah.

Yes.

Yes, I do.

Aye.

Aye. We must protect

our precious little boy
from all the nasty, filthy things

going through his precious
little mother's mind, eh?

Go on. Join her.

Embrace the eternal majesty in thee.

Don't you dare.

I always knew you were a no-good harlot.

I'm not in the least surprised.

Come here, sweetheart.

Good girl.

It delights thee, don't it?
It feels right.

You think I don't know
the baseness of a woman?

You think there's anything
you can teach me?

I don't care to teach you nothing.

I couldn't, even if I wanted to.

Kiss her on the lips.

Make one with thy flesh.

Yeah, yeah.

Yield to the eternal majesty in thee.

Without such act,

there is no life.

Without life, no perfection.

Without perfection, no eternal peace.

And freedom
in thy everlasting majesty,

ruling, conquering,

and dancing all into itself
without end forever.

The Devil will punish thee
in eternity,

crushing your bones,

only to put you back together
and crush you again a thousand times!

A thousand devils piercing...

The final stage,

releasing all inhibition.

I breathe the spirit of God into thee.

A holy relic of our order.

Over a thousand year old.

- It's beautiful.
- Oh, aye.

It's more than that.

This here's the proof
of Christ's earthiness,

belying the very myth
of the Resurrection itself.

You like to beat on a woman,
don't you, John?

Does it make you hard?

It makes me hard.

Tell me you want it.

Tell me you want it.

Feel it. Go on, feel it.

Tell me you want it so much
you're gonna die.

Tell me you want my prick inside you.

I want...

What do you want?

I want your prick inside me.

All in good time.

On your knees, Captain.

Come. Rise.

Don't be afraid.

My present to thee.

Years of debt that must be repaid.

Steel thyself, woman.

Break free of thy bonds!

- - Good. Again.

Good girl. Harder!

- - Go on, now!

Go on, now! Yes!

Yes! Yes! Yes!

- - Yes! Yes! Yes!

Yes! Yes! Yes!

Yes!

God speaks.

- - Go on! Yes!

And now you're gonna watch me
fuck your wife.

- No, no.
- Hey, hey, what's the matter?

What's wrong? Huh?

What I said to you before...

I was mistaken.

A crueller, more self-serving man
I have never met.

Go on, then.

Take me.

Do what you will.

I've never forced myself on a woman
in my life.

I'd never seen Thomas beaten before.

It was a mixed emotion.

After no small moping,
he resolved to leave that place

and never speak of Fanny again.

Do you think we can outrun them
if they find us?

We can try.

I'll fight them to the death,
if I have to.

They'll not get their hands on you.

Hey.

Wait!

Fanny had spent the rest
of the night and the morning

overcome with shame.

Neither Arthur or John
would meet her eye.

Her mood lifted slightly
when Arthur broke free.

Thomas Ashbury!

Give up thy sword and come out
and kneel upon the ground!

Can't do that!

You'll do as I tell you,

or I'll open up this whore
like autumn swine.

You will watch her bleed out
in front of you.

God's my witness you shall!

Hold your sword, Thomas!

All right! All right!

Don't hurt her!

Thomas!

Boy?

The bastard had us now.

Rebecca!

It's a flesh wound, it's a flesh wound.
It's not fatal.

- Just lay very still.
- Yeah.

- No, John, no!
- Harlot!

I'll deal with you later.

Try it, I dare you!

Bind 'em, boy.

Move your hand.

Your hand!

Enough. Constable's waiting.

You can't move her.
She'll bleed to her death.

She should've minded that
'fore she trifled with Satan.

John?

You're a good man.

- Please show some mercy.
- Oh!

One whore defends another, eh?

Well, you've shown your true nature,
as if I didn't know it before.

No, I didn't!

I did as I was asked.

I was afraid!

All right.

Don't you take your eyes off her.

I'll come back with the surgeon

and a rope to hang her with
when he's done.

Get up.

Go on.

Come on, help me sit her up.

Arthur, come and help me!

Get on.

She's just a girl, you know?

Just a poor dumb girl
from a poor family,

didn't know no better.

You want your revenge on me,
that's fair.

But Rebecca, she never hurt a fly.

Ain't like you made no mistakes
in your time.

Not done things to make the Lord angry.

What would this world be
without a second chance, eh?

You want them to hang her,
is that what you want?

Really?

Cos that's what'll happen.

And they'll do it in a heartbeat.

Not cos it's right,
not cos the Lord tells them so, no.

You know why?

They'll do it for fun.

Cos it delights them,

watching young girls swing
and suffer so.

Shit herself before she's done.

Aye, a right good show.

You know it's that sheriff
who's the liar.

Not me, not Rebecca.

He ain't no sheriff, I'll stake my life.

He killed them all in the alehouse,
you know that?

Oh, yeah. Man and woman.

Ravaged them first, like.

Just like Drogheda.

Oh, yeah. He don't answer to no one.

Not he.

No Council of State,
nor no higher power.

You want the devil,

he's the one.

Just you wait and see.

Christ!

I told ye so.

Their lives are in great danger.

Let me up. We must return.

Oh, dear God!

Whoa!

Unbind me.

Oh, Lord!

Walk!

Arthur?

Oh, dear Lord, no! Arthur?

Arthur, boy!

Oh, God, no! Arthur?

My boy!

Lord, no, please, no!

Arthur, boy?

Boy?

Oh, dear Lord, no!

Unbind me!

Unbind me, for the love of...

Well, hello!

John! John, we're in here!

Fanny?

Oh, soldier boy!

I thought you might like to know
that your boy died

crying like a woman.

Weeping in pain.

He thought it would never end.

But end it did, of course,

as do all things.

Your wife is next.

I think you know

the harbouring of heretics
is a very grave offence

and she must be punished.

But it won't be over for her so quickly.
Oh, no.

And when I'm done,

I'm going to sell her.

You hear?

Every vagabond, sailor
and leper in Bristol

will have a sniff of that country cunt!

Within a year, she'll die of the pox.

Usually the way.

- Let's go flush him out.
- No.

It's not worth it.

You see? He's bleeding out like a pig.

Just let nature take its course, eh?

Fuck me! It's here.

I've found it.

Feast your eyes at that.

If that's not a toenail
of Christ himself!

This here will bring us
seven years' good luck, no question.

Didn't do him much good, did it?

Yeah, well...

I guess his seven years were up.

Well, as long as you're happy.

Oh, yeah. I'm fucking merry, too right!

Good, good.

Let's get him on the bonfire.

Fanny told me that night
of my Thomas's death.

When the grief came,
it was overwhelming

and remains a dull ache in my heart.

When I came to,

we was in the clutches
of the darkest of creatures.

Fanny's face told me
all I needed to know.

She would never speak
of what she saw happen to her boy.

Sir?

Tell me,

what will become of us?

You'll be brought to the Tower
until you recant.

Or earn your freedom.

I have earned my freedom
more times than I can count.

I'd lose the attitude
if I were you, ma'am.

Is that so?

It might not be good for the health,
don't you know?

Oh, I know all too well.

I was 17 when the war started.

There have been soldiers through here
more times than I can remember.

Back and forth, back and forth.

Each victor claiming his spoils.

My John, he knowed it.

Though he never did speak of it.

Ain't nothing you can do to me

I ain't already suffered.

Good.

Then we needn't waste time
on the niceties.

Persistent bugger, aren't you?

Get out here!

Oh, I've peed down me trousers!

Look what I just caught.

What are we gonna do with him?

Hung, drawn and quartered, perhaps.

The treasonous whoreson
deserves no less.

On second thoughts,

just...

tie his hands up
and put his head on a block.

Get on with it.

Get an axe.

With Arthur gone,

and with her eyes turned up to the light
of that New Jerusalem,

there was nothing left for Fanny
at Blackhill Farm.

Fanny?

Fanny?

John's pitiful calls echoing
like a distant memory,

she finally laid eyes
on the source of all our troubles.

'Twas not what we had held it to be.

Just a trinket in a fancy box.

She knew not where we was headed,

nor what danger marked the road.

Only that her inner light
would guide her.

And so emerged
the Fanny Lye of legend.

We was to travel every corner
of that fickle isle,

hearing every last word
on the nature of the world and God,

'fore joining the Society of Friends,
elsewise known as Quakers.

Fanny took to preaching
and spoke her truth to many hearts,

even greater than Thomas had foreseen,

on the right of a wife to hold property,

to speak equal marriage vows,

and be free of her husband's whip.

Fanny's voice rang out clear and true.

When the King was restored in 1660,
Fanny was imprisoned

and then transported
to the colonies in America.

I followed after and finished up
here in Rhode Island.

We have not been reacquainted.

Sometimes I hear tales, though,
of that fierce and heartfelt woman,

whom I saw reborn all them years ago,

in an England now a dream.

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