All language subtitles for Black.Sails.S02E02.480p

Are you the liaison
sent by the Admiralty?

I am, my lord.

I intend to save Nassau
before she's lost forever.

Hornigold provided security for
the consortium's operations.

You'd like me to fill
that role for you now?

If your friends aren't capable
of protecting themselves,

they aren't worth protecting.

- What's your name?
- Ned Low.

It would be a shame
to make enemies of each other

- over such a small amount of money.
- Get out of my place.

Hell of a prize, Mr. Meeks.
Hell of a prize.

Perhaps it is in
everyone's best interest

that you and I find a way
past all of this.

There's simply no way
of stealing their gold.

But there might be something else
you can steal... their war ship.

You will both be
transported back to Nassau

at which point you will be removed
from this ship permanently.

I think you intend to
take control of this ship.

And then I think you intend
to return to that beach

and seize every last ounce
of gold off of it.

And I think you're going
to need my help to do it.

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I learned of this technique
from a Spanish bishop.

Six days, they claim,

before the sun shrinks
the leather so tight

that the ribs collapse,
piercing vital organs within.

And on the seventh day,
you'll rest.

Who knew?
They have a sense of humor.

When my men first
pulled you out of the sea

and brought you back
to this garrison,

I knew right away you were going
to be of great value to me.

You were ill-disposed
to acknowledge as much then,

but five days later,

I believe I have your attention.

You see, I believe
I may have an opportunity

to be liberated from this place.

And you are going to help me.

And God said,
"Let there be light,"

and then there was light.

And He saw that it was good,

and He separated the land
from the water,

and He called the water the Seas.

And He said, "Let the sea
bring forth life abundantly."

And He blessed it,

and He said that it was good.

And He formed man
of the dust of the ground

and breathed life into his nostrils

and man became a living soul.

And He beheld all He had created,

and He said it was very good.

But the Lord beheld the man
made in his likeness

and He beheld his solitude...

and He said,

"It is not good that he is alone."

And the moral of the story...

everybody needs a partner.

You are the partner assigned to me

in response to my father's request by
the Admiralty, but it would appear

that even you believe this
endeavor is doomed to fail.

Beg pardon, my lord,
but I didn't say that.

I merely said that it would be wise
for us to manage our expectations

as to what's achievable.

And what is it that
you think is achievable?

Well, sir, the pirate
issue is a thorny one,

but I believe that
there are ways to...

- Aside from the pirates.
- I'm sorry?

I don't believe the pirates are
the cause of Nassau's problem.

I believe they are a symptom.

The root causes are the ones that
I would like to address first.

Root causes?

The graft of its governor.

The incompetence of its managers.

The neglect of its lords.

The instability caused by these things

is what draws the pirates to
Nassau, not the other way around.

So let's begin there.

What is it that you believe
would truly return Nassau

to stable profitability?

You mean aside from
removing the pirates?

Let's leave them out for now, yes.

What would it take?

Farmers, men skilled in the
cultivation of sugar and tobacco.

Magistrates to maintain order.
Carpenters to raise buildings.

Clergy to raise spirits.

Foodstuffs to sustain them all
for six months, perhaps a year.

Three ships to transport it
all, sailors to sail them.

And an honest governor,

the first in recent memory,
to oversee it all.

In short, you'd be
assembling a colony,

boarding it onto ships, transporting
it across the Atlantic,

and hoping that when it arrives,
it takes to an environment

that has resisted every
attempt at stable commerce

for the past 50 years.

Oh, and then there are the pirates
that we've agreed not to discuss.

Are you sure three ships
would be enough?

My lord, I feel I have
to be honest with you.

I have grave doubts about whether
something like this is realistic.

- Yes, I've gathered that.
- If you wish to request

a liaison more sympathetic
to your views,

I'm sure Admiral Hennessey
would be happy to oblige.

The New World is a gift, Lieutenant,

a sacred opportunity to right
our wrongs and begin anew.

And I do not want
my family's plot in it

to be the reason for its fall.

I'm not looking for
someone to hold my hand.

I need someone who can help me

ensure that Nassau survives.

The stakes are too great
for anything else.

And you suspect that I'm that person

despite the fact that it's clear that
we both view the world very differently?

Because of it.

Strange pairs, Lieutenant.

They can achieve
the most unexpected things.

You can walk away
from all this if you wanted.

The moment we arrive at Nassau,

you're free to go anywhere you want.

And yet you've offered
to help me regain control of this crew.

Why would you do that?

You mean aside from the share
of gold I'd get out of it?

There are other ways of
earning money, other crews.

I don't want to earn money.

I don't want to join another crew.

If we're being honest, I don't
really want to be on this crew

a day longer than
is absolutely necessary.

Why not?

Because I don't want to be a pirate.

I'm not interested in the life.

Not interested in the fighting,

not interested in the ships.

I don't care much for the sea
while we're on the subject.

But being a pirate on this crew

for a little while longer,

it offers me an opportunity

I don't believe I can find
anywhere else on Earth...

one big prize.

And with it, freedom.

From water, from Randall,

from hunger, from wages...

from you.

Just one question.

In approximately two days' time,

when we arrive back at Nassau,

you and I will both be unceremoniously
expelled from this ship.

That would seem to be
an impediment to your plan.

In less than two days,

I intend to be a captain again.

I suggest you find a way of earning
your way back onto this crew as well.

Captain, a word, please.

Mr. Meeks, how can I help you?

What happened at the tavern
last night, Captain?

I don't know.
Did something happen?

I've heard word you
confronted the Guthrie woman.

- Threatened her?
- And?

And I wish you hadn't done that.

I'm sorry you feel that way.
Are we through?

No, we're not.

The crew's relationship with her

is worth far more than
the amount she withheld

from the Good Fortune prize.

You're recklessly jeopardizing
that relationship,

their relationship.

Mr. Meeks, would you like to know

what the men were laughing at
just now when you arrived?

I was recounting to them
my conversation at the tavern last night

and wondering aloud

if I were to fuck the lady Guthrie

to within an inch of her young
life while they watched,

would the crew consider her
debt to them repaid in full?

And will they feel the same

when their next haul
is rejected by her outright?

When we return from Carolina,

every man on this ship will
have his hat filled with gold.

What happens after that?

It's an uncertain world, Mr. Meeks.

Best to live in the now.

He took me in

when I didn't have shit.

Made a place for me.

Taught me things.

Without him, I wouldn't
have fucking made it.

When someone gives you a life,

it ain't truly your own.

You owe some part of it back.

What happened last night...

Jesus.

I understand.

Something so different
from what you know.

I know how frightening it can be.

I will respect your wishes

and we can make last night
the last time.

Oh, fuck. There must be a way.

A way to make me essential.

They can hate me,
they just need to need me.

Randall, hurry the fuck up.

We're waiting.

And don't you dare fucking
spit in my bowl, Randall.

We all know you do it
when you're ornery,

but I'm warning you, I'll know.

Curs.

You're gonna do it
anyway, aren't you?

Randall, that is truly disgusting.

Imbecile or no, you really
ought to know better.

I don't like him.

Be that as it may, it hardly justifies...

What did you say?

I don't like him.

Yes.

Perhaps the better question is,

who else doesn't like him?

Yes?

A moment, if I may?

Of course.

Have you read any of these?

Excuse me?

A shelf of books,
so many lives unled...

so many possibilities.

I glanced, but nothing rang familiar.

Nor for me.

You know the irony of all this?

When we first found you,

I was the one who saw
the promise in acquiring you

and Mr. Gates was the one
who opposed it.

Is that so?

He didn't trust lettered men.

Found them harder to keep in line,

more resistant to persuasion.

I prevailed.

What was your argument?

That I was tired of being the only one
he had a hard time keeping in line.

Mr. Flint, I'm sorry, but I have a
tremendous amount of preparations...

It's killing me...

what happened.

What I did to Mr. Gates.

I keep on replaying it in my mind

every waking moment,

trying to see another way.

I don't expect you to understand,

but I need you to know
that no one on this ship

feels his loss more keenly than I do.

I know he developed
a great affection for you.

Perhaps if I can support you
in this moment,

it will be some small
penance for what I've done.

How exactly do you propose
to support me?

By giving you good counsel.

We're losing our favorable wind.

Been losing it for hours.

Now, sooner or later,
someone will suggest

tacking east around the
coast, get ahead of the wind.

Maneuvered properly, that would
be the fastest way home,

but I suggest that you resist
that plan at all costs.

Why?

Because that route runs right through
the common passage out of Kingston.

And the men will press to take
the first prize they sight.

We're in possession of a war ship.

Why would we shy away
from taking a prize?

Because the men aren't ready.

Not with the numbers they've lost.

They're far too depleted to
fully man this ship in battle.

You get them home safely,

get them rested,
reinforce their numbers,

and then take this ship
and do with it what you will.

"A sacred opportunity
to right our wrongs."

My God, do you know anyone in
the world who talks that way?

I do now, sir.

Is it possible he's fully mad?

Half of Whitehall whispers it.

He isn't mad. He's just...

bright, determined, wealthy,

all at the same time.

Jesus. That's worse.

You might like him, sir.

Actually, I went to one
of those salons of his,

the ones that half the Royal
Society attend but most deny.

Most of those men are pretenders, sir,

attracted to his ideas because
they make them feel like radicals.

But Thomas...

when he talks about
the need to rethink things,

systemic things,

I think he truly believes
what he's saying.

And what's more, I'm afraid I might
believe a good deal of it as well.

Thomas?

I'm sorry, sir.

He refuses to stand on ceremony,
insists on the familiar.

I know what you're thinking,
but I assure you, sir,

my judgment, as it relates
to this assignment,

is still intact.

Ship's business.

I shall return. No, no.

Is there a problem?

No problem. None whatsoever.

Apologies.

Perhaps it's my jealousy showing.

Liaison to the Hamilton family,

that's quite an appointment.

Congratulations, sir.

Thank you.

I must say, I thought
myself quite qualified,

but then I suppose perhaps

for this particular assignment,
you were the better man.

Of course, I can understand

how it would be
of such importance to you.

Someone of your station...
son of a carpenter's mate

given a chance
to socialize with a lord.

Hold that position for long enough

and you might convince everyone you're
something more than you actually are.

A gentleman, most civilized.

I imagine there is
no end to the benefits

Thomas Hamilton's favor
could bestow upon you.

Future employment, status...

hell, I understand
if he likes you well enough,

he may even let you fuck his wife.

Enough!

If you are an officer in my fleet,

I suggest you leave this place.

Now!

You can't blame the men.

They'd suffered under
an awful stretch of captains.

Weaklings, frauds, liars.

Ned Low, whatever he is,
he's none of those things.

The men saw him as an answer.

But now I fear they cannot
see that by supporting him,

they may be sowing the seeds
of their own destruction.

Mr. Meeks, your men can't
possibly be that stupid.

Are they unaware of the profits he
cost them with the Good Fortune prize?

Or the future profits
he's costing them with me?

Ma'am, I'm uncertain of my
footing on this subject.

Suffice it to say,

the Good Fortune yielded up
a unique item of great value.

The men know where their next
distribution is coming from

and it isn't you.

Item? What kind of item?

I really cannot say.

Well, Mr. Meeks, I'm not exactly sure

what it is you think I can do for you,

- but I've got business...
- I hear you depose captains.

- Excuse me?
- I'm told you have that power.

I'm told you've done it before.

That was a special case

and something I nearly paid for
at the cost of my livelihood.

Simply incompatible
with the role I play here now.

He is a mad man.

And he's fixed on you
as an object of his ire.

I need your help.
My men need your help.

But you have an interest in
seeing this resolved as well.

Ma'am.

I'm on my way.

Wait for me in the bar.

We'll continue this conversation.

Apologies, gentlemen,
for keeping you waiting.

I'm most eager to hear the results
of Captain Lawrence's journey.

- Thanks, love.
- Treating yourself, I see.

I'd say you're entitled.

The work you've done
for my inn is commendable.

And what good are the efforts
if they yield no spoils?

- I don't know what you mean.
- Don't ya?

Mademoiselle, what exactly is
happening between you and Anne?

She wanted me out of the inn,
out on the streets.

What would you have had me do?

I couldn't say, but seducing
her was certainly...

an interesting approach.

Call it what you like,

but yesterday she was enraged.

And today she is not.

That is not seduction,

that is simply removing the
cause of her frustration.

Please.

She was frustrated because
you crossed Eleanor Guthrie.

Do you really believe that?

Has she not been behaving strangely

for far longer than any of that?

Were Mr. Hamund here, perhaps he
could testify on the subject.

I beg your pardon,
but are you asking me

to believe that Anne
killed eight men,

risked her life, utterly
destroyed both our reputations,

to say nothing of the damage done
to her relationship with me,

to remove you from that tent,
and that she did it all

because she secretly wants to fuck you?

I see.

I'll tell you what
that sounds like to me.

It sounds like a crass attempt to drive
a wedge between my partner and I

to achieve for yourself
a controlling influence

over our little triumvirate.

Perhaps I'll share
that feeling with Anne

and let's just see how quickly she
turns that anger in your direction.

- It won't work.
- No? Why?

Because I believe
that somewhere, somehow,

you have known she has wanted this...

needed this for a very long time.

I'm giving it to her.

And now that she has it,

it would be exceedingly
difficult for her to let it go.

This upsets you.
This threatens you.

I am sorry.

There is nothing you can do about it.

Hoist up the sails!

- No luck?
- Ugly stretch.

Goddamn wind just won't cooperate.

If I were to suggest rather
than trying to tack southwest

that we head east, hug the coast
to navigate around the weather,

what would you say?

I would say either
somebody gave you that idea,

somebody who's a hell of a sailor,

or you've been holding back on me.

Flint said to avoid it.

Said when it was raised

that we should resist
the temptation at all costs.

Avoid the common passage
it would take us through

and the temptation to hunt a prize.

You spoke to Flint?

He approached me.

Why would he do that?

Why attempt to scuttle the idea before
any of us have even arrived at it?

Is it possible he still believes
he can take back his command?

How?

There isn't a man on the crew
that will even speak to him,

much less support him.

I don't know, but had he that notion,

I imagine the idea of this crew
taking a prize under your command

would be a terrifying prospect.

I suppose the only question is,

are you prepared to lead them?

Set the course.

It's better than nothing, isn't it?

An account of goings-on.

Volume the first
on this 13th day in June,

1715, in the year of our Lord.

The weather is fair.

Fresh topsail gale,
north by northeast.

First item...

a certain member of this crew,
who shall remain nameless,

was seen dozing
during the night watch.

Another member of the same watch

took the opportunity to take
three pieces from his pocket...

Shut the fuck up.

We're eating.

What was that?

I am convincing the crew

to allow me to remain with them.

As we discussed.

Is that what you're doing?

I spent three years at the
St. John's Home for Poor Orphan Boys.

During that time, I knew a
boy named Solomon Little.

Cleft palette, spotted face,

and the most unfortunate set of ears
I have, to this day, ever seen.

He should have been beaten to within
an inch of his life on a daily basis

if the laws of nature applied.

Yet no one ever laid a finger on him

because even at that tender age,

he knew...

it isn't about getting them to like you,

it's about reminding them how
much they dislike each other.

He got up every morning,
made his address,

and I'll be God damned if
there was a boy in that home

who could've lasted a day without it.

You do realize that those are
grown men out there, not boys.

In my experience,

when it comes to the thrill
of ridiculing one's peers,

there's little difference.

No one pays him any attention,

so he sees everything.

And he knows his fate and mine

are more closely linked
than he'd care to admit.

So he reports it all back to me.

And there's plenty more
gossip in the well.

Good luck with...

whatever this is.

80 barrels of molasses,

65 units of rum.

I can't believe this is
all we got for it.

If I may, ma'am,
I consider it a triumph

I made it back here at all.

I was met with great
skepticism at every turn,

from the merchant buyers
to the customs house...

Your papers were
properly arranged.

Your payoffs were
in the proper amounts.

It was all in good order.

All but your family's name, ma'am.

It is no longer in good order,

and everyone
in that harbor knew it.

I was questioned for nigh
on three hours

the minute the customs man
realized I was your agent.

At a certain point, I had to
frighten him into believing

there would be reprisals
against him personally

if he were to arrest me.

- By whom?
- I beg your pardon?

By whom did you suggest there
would be reprisals against him?

Did you use Mr. Frasier's name?

Captain Naft's, then?

I can understand how that would
strike fear in the heart of any man.

- Charles, enough.
- Or did you use mine?

You're welcome.

How awkward this is.

Mr. Holmes here informed me

that he observed you in this place

nervously entering
Eleanor Guthrie's office.

I told myself, "What on Earth could
Mr. Meeks have to say to her?"

Now forced to wonder if it stems
from your concerns about my fitness.

Seeking an ally, perhaps, to
threaten my position as captain.

I swore an oath to those men.

To protect them from their captain.

From themselves when called for.

I see.

But perhaps you're right.

Perhaps you serve their interests
best by betraying me in this moment.

Although, perhaps this is just
the act of a spineless traitor,

in which case...

well, in which case...

I have a duty to do
something about it.

- You need to walk away from this.
- Walk away?

This venture is on shaky footing.

How long before
the street realizes this?

How long before the mob
is outside your door again?

What happens if this time
it won't go away?

Since when have you been
concerned with my operation?

My concern is for you.

I believe this is going to work.

I believe you have motive
to see it fail.

I believe you're angry with me.

I believe you resent me.

What I do not believe...

not at all, not for an instant...

is that you have any concern for me.

I can't protect you from this.

My men follow me because
I serve their interests first.

To ask them to protect a tyrant

too weak to enforce
her own tyranny...

I will have a very hard
time convincing them

that that is in their interests.

If you are not strong enough
to protect yourself, Eleanor,

then I am urging you to cease
behaving as if you are.

I don't want to see you
in my place again.

I don't want to see
you on my island again.

Take your men, take your shit,

and seek life elsewhere.

I'd appreciate it if you'd remove
that from my face, friend.

Did you not hear the lady, friend?

All right.

Don't.

I'm sorry we've had such a
rough go of it, you and I...

but I'm afraid I'm simply
enjoying myself

way too much to consider
leaving this place.

I'm sure we'll be seeing
each other soon.

If you're trying to impress me,

it isn't working.

Goings-on, volume the fourth.

Light breeze, west-southwest.

Sunset in roughly three hours.

First item...

a certain member
of the rigging crew,

who shall remain nameless,

was moving his bowels
over the side.

He was spotted considering the stick

and its unacceptable state of being,

and instead, chose to wipe

with the bare palm of his hand.

Next item...

Oh...

A member of the third watch,

who shall remain nameless,

entered the pen late last night

sometime after three bells.

Though no one actually
saw him enter or exit,

evidence of his presence was clear,

as upon inspection,

the dairy goat's anus
was irritated from overuse.

You fucked the dairy goat?

The dairy goat?

They know who fucked the dairy goat.

There you go, Joshua!

- Sail!
- Starboard bow!

- Sail!
- Starboard bow!

There!

Steady.

Steer steady, keep your course.

- What is she?
- English colors.

Inbound from Kingston.
Sugar merchants, most likely.

How do you presume an English
merchantmen will react

when being hailed
by a Spanish warship?

Only one way to find out.

Anyone up for a little hunting?

I'm sorry, you were saying something

about your judgment on this matter

remaining intact.

I apologize, sir.

Good sense escaped me for a moment.

An insult to the man's wife
that had to be answered.

It reflects not upon my fitness

to continue handling Lord Hamilton.

I know how important this posting is.

I know you know.

My concern with you

is over that which cannot be known.

That thing which arises in you

when passions are aroused...

good sense escapes you.

All men have it.

But yours... yours is different.

Darker. Wilder.

I imagine it's what makes you
so effective as an officer.

But when exposed to extremes,

I could not imagine
what it is capable of.

And of greater concern,

I'm not sure you do either.

Lift!

Raise the lateen.

Pull away!

Heave!

Pull away, God damn it!

Pull away, you lubbers!

Heave!

- Come down.
- Aye, sir.

Harnin' the port sheets.

Harnin' the port sheets!

Take your pistols.

- Ready the grappling.
- Keep it dry.

Stand to, lads!

I don't need to explain to you
the stakes of what happens

if Mr. Dufresne is successful
in taking this prize.

Keep the mainsail tight!

Took me a while to get
a feel for this part of it.

Raise the black too soon
and the prize will run.

Raise it too late

and you'll induce panic and a
greater chance of resistance.

You ought to show your colors
at just the right moment

to get them to strike theirs.

Raise the black.

Raise the black!

Raise the black!

Gun crews at the ready.

Hold your breath, lads.

They struck their colors.

See? I told you.

- Prepare to board.
- Aye.

You're in command here, yes?

I am.

You were wise not to fight.

Are there any men
lying in wait below?

Answer truthfully

or the consequences will be severe.

It is as you see it.

Sweep the hold.
Start at the bow.

This is the most dangerous part.

Look at him.

His mind is drowning in questions.

Did I make the right decision?

How am I going to explain
to my proprietors

that I gave up their goods
without a fight?

What kind of man am I?

You hope he has answers
to those questions.

You hope that he can reassure himself
that he made the right decision.

You hope that he doesn't realize

that the thing that he thought
he was surrendering to...

the thing that drove fear
into his heart

the moment he saw the black...

that that thing
is nowhere to be found.

Are you him?

- Beg your pardon?
- I said are you him? Are you Captain Flint?

I assure you, sir,

you do not want to test us.

Men in these waters are hard men.

They don't fear ships.
They don't fear guns.

They don't fear swords.

Then what do they fear?

- Retreat!
- Back to the ship!

I want muskets in the rigging
to suppress their front line.

Mr. Dufresne, we have lost the day.

Muskets!

We must disengage.

What are we waiting for?
Why aren't we moving?

Give the order, Mr. Dufresne.

We do not have the manpower
to retake that ship.

- We must get underway.
- Why the fuck are we waiting for him?

- Because he's in charge here.
- No one is in fucking charge here!

You have to sink her.

You cannot just escape,
you have to sink that ship.

For if a single one of those
men lives to tell the tale,

no one will ever surrender
before that flag again.

Cut us loose. Get us underway.

Cut us loose! Get us underway!

- Set sail.
- Cut the line! Cut the line!

Gun crews at the ready.

Gun crews at the ready.

- Two-six! Two-six!
- Heave! Heave!

- Two-six! Two-six!
- Heave! Heave!

- Two-six!
- Heave!

Fire!

- Fire!
- Fire!

I don't see a move
I can make from here.

If I move against him directly,

his men retaliate and I don't
have the muscle to withstand it.

And even if I could muster up
that kind of support,

I couldn't get away with it.

Not after such a public
display of loss as today.

Not so brazenly.

The consortium is fragile.
It would be toppled.

And I'm simply not willing
to allow that to happen.

And I suspect it's only a matter of time

before he makes a move against me.

You want me to believe that
you have some concern for me?

Then show it.

If you need something
to induce your men into action,

I know his crew hold an asset
from their last prize

that they deem of great value.

- What asset?
- I don't know.

I don't know.

What I have found in my experience

is the more elusive the puzzle,

the more painfully obvious
its ultimate solution.

One just has to be willing to see it.

Take our predicament, for example.

You have a wealth of leads,

but no means of exploiting them
for anything other than a fee

and risking retaliation from
Ms. Guthrie in the process.

I, on the other hand,

have an unparalleled aptitude
for the management of a crew,

but am denied any and every
opportunity to exploit the skill.

And there it is...
the solution, so obvious.

You will provide all leads

derived from this place
directly to me.

I will judge which to prosecute

and which too likely to rouse
Ms. Guthrie's ire.

Anne and I will then
take those chosen leads,

we'll procure a ship,
we'll recruit men,

and we'll create,
from nothing, a new crew

from which we three
will each hold a share.

You asked for better captains...

I give you Captain Jack Rackham.

And one more thing...

darling, I can understand why you
wouldn't want to tell me about this,

but please know that all I have
ever wanted for you is to be happy.

Come to bed when you're through.

Was it close?

The vote.

It was.

I suppose you warned me...

didn't you?

To avoid that course
through the shipping lanes.

Perhaps it was my hubris
that drove me to it.

To show you I had it in me to lead.

But as I sit here,

I'm forced to consider
another possibility.

That course we charted...

perhaps none of us would
have thought of it at all

had you not raised it
in the first place.

That you orchestrated it all.

The deaths,

the destruction,

the loss.

All to achieve this very moment.

Is it possible a man
could do such a thing?

Congratulations, Captain.

Sync & corrections by Elderfel
www.addic7ed.com

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