All language subtitles for the-frankenstein-chronicles-s02e01-prodigal-son-hdtv-x264-sng

Any change, Meecham?

I still have hope, Doctor.

BETHLEM HOSPITAL, LONDON, 1830

Lost cause this one, Father.

God's left him long passed.

God leaves no one.

Will you pray with me, my son?

Come back to us, John.

Come back to us.

My son.

John?

He lives.

He lives.

Come on.

Back to bed will you.

Enough!

Enough!

Enough now!

Don't make me...

Forgive me.

Out of the way!

Out of the way!

Let me show you where you were born.

My Adam.

You are the next step.

JOHANN DIPPEL

Jemima.

You told me that if Daniel succeeded,

then we would be in a world without God.

And I would be as guilty for it as he.

Well, he has...

and I am.

I was lost.

I couldn't find you.

There will be another one after you...

and others after that.

Fire and water and ice.

You must find him.

You must do this for me.

Heaven is closed to both of us.

Fire and water and ice.

Where are you?

You must find him.

You must do this for me.

You must find him.

You must do this for me.

They say the body is a real mess,
like a scene from the Bible.

Who'd kill an Archdeacon but a man
touched by the devil himself?

Ripped out his intestines and his
heart, and his lungs, I heard.

Oi! I told you lot to get
down to the coroner's office.

Sergeant Nightingale.

Inspector Treadaway.

Look at this.

Sir Robert's Great
Metropolitan experiment.

At Bow Street, I went out
and got things done.

Now I spend all day writing
about it in triplicate.

Detailed records are the
future, sir. I do believe it.

I think you might be right, Sergeant.

Because they're no bloody use
to us here in the present.

Have you finished at Portugal Street?

As I suggested, it was
a crime of passion.

It was the husband himself
who killed his wife.

- You got him to admit to it?
- No need, sir.

The evidence admits all.

Good work, Sergeant.

Very good.

Murder is definitely your talent.

I have another one with your name to it.

- The murder of the Archdeacon?
- No,

a guard at Bethlem,

killed by an escaped
lunatic in his flight.

Bethlem is under Southwark Watchhouse.

But the tollman on Regent Bridge

spied the lunatic crossing the river.

Which makes him the
concern of Westminster.

How did the guard die?

Throat slit ear to ear, I'm told.

Horrible business.

Constable Bircher!

You'll be assisting Sergeant
Nightingale in his enquiries.

- Sergeant Nightingale...
- If you wish to rise

above the rank of constable,

you need to be more
conscientious with your work

rather than fueling babble and hearsay.

Understood?

Yes, sir.

We've come for the body of the
Archdeacon. Hand him over.

This murder is the concern of the
church coroner, Mr. Renquist.

- Says who?
- Says the church!

Out. Get him out!

I don't take orders
from Charlies like you.

But maybe you will accept the authority

of the Very Reverend Dean of Westminster

when I tell you that you
have no jurisdiction here.

The Parish Watch are in
charge, not the police.

Never let that happen again.

Yes, sir.

How can I help you?

I was abandoned by God.

And now you seek His sanctuary?

So, it is you, John Marlott.

I am not John Marlott.

Yet you walk in his image.

- Why?
- To find Daniel Hervey...

and show him God's vengeance.

No.

The man I knew...

This man I see before me...

You were not a man of vengeance.

Who was I?

You were a man of kindness.

A man of justice.

Justice?

I was shown no justice.

Now, I walk a wasteland, Father.

A world forsaken.

It is the poor who are
forsaken, not the world.

And what they crave is justice.

- Then, we are all abandoned.
- No, no!

Here in Pye Street, it is the
church who has abandoned us.

The church, not God.

My flock lies here

in the cradle of the church,

under the gaze of God.

Yet every day, they wander
further into the valley of death

while the Dean of Westminster watches on

- and lines his own pockets.
- Deliver us from evil,

for thine is the kingdom, and the power,

and the Glory for ever. Amen.

Amen.

Good morning, Mr. Dean.

Mr. Renquist. Gentlemen,
leave us please?

The Metropolitan police

have begun trespassing on the
murder of the Archdeacon.

Yes, how very irritating.

The Home Secretary wishes to
illustrate the competence

of his new police force.

It feels like desperation.

Nevertheless,

I cannot be expected to
conduct church business

with their continuing interference.

And you shall not.

Even the Home Secretary

will find he cannot refuse
the seal of the King,

who, I'm sure, would not object

to my small appropriation
of his authority.

Westminster is not the
domain of the state.

It is the domain of God.

The King's seal is the final word

and the people will...

have faith in the church.

I rescued them after your arrest.

Do you think I'm guilty of it, Father,

Flora's murder?

That's between you and God.

I won't betray you.

But your clothing might.

Go to this shop and ask for Esther Rose.

She is someone you can trust.

I cannot repay you.

"The wicked borrow and pay not again,

but the righteous show mercy and give."

Is that a Psalm?

That's right.

I remember it.

Do not forsake God, my son.

And do not forsake those
He has in keeping for you.

They still await you on the other side.

I have seen the other side.

I was taken to the meeting
place, but they were both gone.

They were sent on without me.

What marvel brought you
back here, John Marlott?

- I am not John Marlott.
- Then who are you?

I passed beyond God's kingdom.

John Marlott is dead.

"An Archdeacon is murdered in
the very heart of Westminster,

and the Metropolitan
police are instructed

to play no part in such matters"?

The Dean of Westminster
flaps his wings indeed.

The letter did arrive under the seal
of King George, Home Secretary.

And if King George has
witnessed its contents,

then I am a Charing
Cross saddler. No, Fox.

This is the work of the
Dean and no other.

Mr. Dipple. Forgive me, I was
unaware of any appointment.

No forgiveness necessary, Sir
Robert. I am unannounced.

I'm afraid, sir, the Home
Secretary's appointments do not...

Oh, that is quite extraordinary.

Vishnu.

Late seventeenth century.

- West Bengal, I'd hazard.
- Speak plainly, Mr. Dipple.

- What is your business?
- "Speak plainly"?

Novel words from a politician.

We are all aware of your
influence, Mr. Dipple,

but in the seat of Government,

you will do well to address me
with the customary respect.

Sir Robert,

spare me the indignation of tradition.

We are both men of the modern world.

Governments come and go like
the passing of the seasons.

And yours is in trouble.

What is your business?

Fox, would you be so kind as to collect

the minutes of this morning's
Cabinet meeting? Thank you.

There was a murder two
nights ago in Westminster.

The Archdeacon?

And that night also saw the escape

of a dangerous lunatic from Bethlem.

His liberty is of concern to me.

And why should it concern me?

I understand your new cemetery
bill reaches a crucial stage.

As we have discussed.

Mr. Dipple, your support for
this scheme is very generous.

Yes, I believe the swift
apprehension of this man

will hasten the completion

of these documents in
no uncertain measure.

And what will you gain from this?

Me?

Well, you hardly impress as the
Good Samaritan, Mr. Dipple.

Very well, I can assure you
that the Metropolitan Police

will consider the arrest
of this escaped lunatic

to be a matter of the utmost urgency.

And the seasons pass thus.

Sir Robert, good day.

Fox.

Please make it clear that in future,

Mr. Dipple is not to be admitted
without an appointment.

- Of course, Home Secretary.
- Though I doubt that it will stop him.

That's the problem with the
extravagantly rich, Fox.

They think they own everything.

OLD PYE STREET

MOSES ROSE USED & LAUNDERED CLOTHING

Esther Rose?

Father Ambrose told me
you could provide...

a more suitable set of clothing.

More suitable?

These clothes...

No matter.

Your business is none of mine, sir.

If you just stand straight.

A military bearing.

I need the collar to be high.

If you can, please?

I know what will do.

Thank you.

I'll give you some privacy.

I'm dressed.

They're a good fit.

Thank you.

Please.

Where did these clothes come from?

A dead man.

The shirts of the deceased
beg a lower price,

and most of my patrons are not fussy.

Why did you choose them for me?

I saw you in them.

Thank you. Is that enough?

That's right

for a man who served his country.

- People forget.
- They do.

Thank you, Mrs. Rose.

May God walk with you, sir.

You have no clue to his identity?

None was discovered,

but there was curious incident
in the days before his escape.

A visit by Reverend Ambrose

provoked a reaction unlike
any I ever saw in him.

Father Ambrose?

Of the parish of St. John's, I believe.

"I DIED AND YET I LIVE."

The meaning of this?

Unintelligible.

As you can see, ramblings are
fractured to say the least.

Sometimes in the first person,
sometimes in the third.

This.

- This is?
- A record of admittance.

- "Daniel Hervey." Lord Daniel Hervey?
- I believe so.

- His connection to the patient?
- I really have no idea.

Lord Hervey died quite some time ago.

I recall.

There were stories of a fire.

The patient had been in our
care for almost three years.

As I did not admit the
man, I have no speculation

as to Lord Hervey's involvement.

Father Ambrose said that the patient
resembled a man he once knew,

hanged for the murder of a young girl.

How would you describe
the man, the patient?

A lost soul.

JOHN MARLOTT

Nightingale!

Sergeant Nightingale,
what are you doing?

- Inspector.
- That's the third time I've called you.

I had to come from over there.

- Sorry, sir.
- No matter.

Truth told, this is the furthest
I've escaped my desk all day.

What did you learn at Bethlem?

There's something odd about
the events at Bethlem, sir.

I just can't put my finger to it.

But I believe the doctor to
be concealing something.

Concealing involvement in the murder?

No, nothing so sinister.

He seemed ill at ease in
discussing the escaped patient

for no reason I can fathom.

Guilt for some fault beyond
his control, perhaps?

I was thinking the same.

Did he at least furnish
you with a description

of the man who escaped?

He described the man...

as a lost soul.

I think we'll need a little
more to go on than that.

Talk to this Father Ambrose
at St. John's tomorrow.

The Home Secretary's taken a
keen interest in this one.

Yes, sir.

Fire and water and ice.

CHURCH OF SAINT JOHN'S

Jemima.

You must find him.

If you denied me,

then surely you denied Daniel Hervey.

He still walks this earth
with me, I know it.

Where did you cast him?

Where?

Heaven is closed to both of us.

Father?

Father?

- Fire!
- There's a fire!

The church is on fire!

- Fire!
- Water!

We need buckets of water! Where is it?

The church is on fire!

Parish Watchmen! To me!

"Second unholy murder of
Westminster Clergyman.

As Police pursue

incurable Bethlem Lunatic
in desperate manhunt."

The Bethlem investigation...

Something has turned up.

The inmate believed that
he was John Marlott.

That's Bedlam for you.

There's nothing to be afraid
of. It's all under control!

Marlott is dead.

If you print one word otherwise,

I'll take this quill,
stick it in your tongue,

and pin it to that desk.

Search every room, every
cellar, every attic.

- Don't take him on.
- What's the point of that, sir?

You'll lose.

With all this talk of the
devil in Pye Street,

I'd prefer to have someone here.

How long will it take you to repair it?

- I'd say at least eight days.
- You have five days

at a crown a day.

I accept.

Men have survived the gallows before.

And you will hang again,
I'll make sure of it.

You saw what Hervey wanted
you to see. He is using them

to resurrect the dead.

And the dead demand justice.
Not just for them, for me!