All language subtitles for Outlander.S01E02.BDRip-x264-OSiTV.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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Previously...

We were in Scotland
on our second honeymoon.

This is a pattern
I've not seen before.

The marriage-finds divided.

The life line's forked.

Where will we be
watching this spectacle?

There is a place
called Craigh na Dun.

There's a local group
who used to observe rituals there.

- You're not Frank.
- No, madam. I am not.

- What's your name?
- Claire Beauchamp. I'm a nurse.

Thank you, Sassenach. Truly.

As much as my rational mind
rebelled against the idea,

I knew in my heart
I was no longer in the 20th century.

Ripped By mstoll

The last time I was here,
Frank and I simply took the car.

But after spending two days
and nights jolting along on a horse,

I knew I'd never find my way back,

not unless I convinced these people
to help me in some way.

Dougal, you're back early, man.

We hadna thought to see ye
before the gathering.

Aye, well, we've had some luck.
Some good, some bad.

Rupert, ye great fat fart,
what have you done to my Peggy now?

Did I not tell you
to tighten her girth?

Let me be, old rat.

I been riding all night, and
I don't need you squalling in my ear.

Did ye never even look at her hooves?

You canna expect any beast

to carry around something
that weighs as much as you,

without taking care
of the poor creature's feet.

Like a cow riding a mouse.

Shut yer hole.

Rupert, m'dear!

How good to see ye!

My dear.

Ye'll all be needing breakfast,
I reckon.

Plenty in the kitchen.

Away in, and feed yerselves.

Murtagh,

you look and smell like a rat that's
been dragged through sheep dung.

Gi' us a kiss, then.

- Oh, no!
- A kiss, then!

And what do we have here?

Claire Beauchamp,
Mistress Fitzgibbons.

Murtagh found her,

and Dougal said we must
bring her along with us, so...

So.

Well...

Claire.

Come with me.

We shall find you something to eat,

something to wear
that's a bit more...

Well, a bit more.

Well, what about him?

- I can fend for myself.
- No, you're hurt.

He was shot yesterday.

- I'll be fine.
- No, you won't.

I bandaged his shoulder,

but I wasn't able to
clean it or dress it properly.

I must tend to it
before it gets infected.

I mean, inflamed.

You know, with fever and swelling.

Oh, aye.

I ken fine what ye mean.

But do you mean to say
you know what to do for that?

Are ye a charmer, then?

A Beaten?

Something like that.

Jamie.

Ye heard the lady.

Ye need tending.

This way.

Let's get you out of the rain.

As ye asked, garlic and witch hazel
to boil the rags.

I also brought comfrey
and cherry bark for the pain.

Perfect.

Call out if you need anything else.

I will. Thank you, Mrs. Fitzgibbons.

Everybody calls me Mrs. Fitz.

You may also.

The Redcoats.

Flagged me twice
in the space of a week.

They'd have done it twice
the same day, I expect,

were they not afraid of killing me.

There's no joy
in flogging a dead man.

I shouldn't think anyone
would do such a thing for joy.

Well,

if Randall was not precisely joyous,

he was at least
very pleased with himself.

Clumsy. It'll have to
be boiled again.

Why were you flogged?

Well, the first time
was escaping Fort William.

And the second was theft.

Or at least, that's what
the charge sheet read.

Why were you escaping
in the first place?

They were holding me prisoner.

I gathered that.

Why? On what charge?

That...

I think it was obstruction.

Obstruction? What's that?

It doesn't sound like
a serious crime.

Well,

I suppose it's whatever
the English say it is.

Aye, it was
near to four years ago now.

They put a levy on
all the landholders in the county,

sent out small parties of soldiers,

collecting food,
horses for transport, and suchlike.

Aye, it was one day in October,

Captain Randall
came along to our place.

My father was away.
He'd gone to a funeral.

I was up in the fields
when I heard shouting.

No!

No, no!

Jenny!

Jenny, run!

Consider yourself carefully.

I surrender to you, sir.

Get on your knees?

No.

Now let my sister be.

Your sister?

That's interesting.

She's...

She's bonnie.

I'll take a closer look.

No!

Bring his head up.

He wanted to send a message.

This is what you get when
you fight back against the English.

You care to see more?

Or would you rather go into the house
and offer me better entertainment?

Don't go with him.

Even if he slits my throat
right before your eyes.

So,

she went with him.

She thought he'd kill me,

and perhaps she was right.

After that,
I dinna ken what happened.

When I woke up, I was trussed up
in the wagon with the chickens,

jolting down the road
to Fort William.

I'm so sorry.

That must have been terrible for you.

Aye.

Chickens are very poor company.

Don't do that.

I'm going to
strap that arm to your side.

Just hold still.

You're a kind woman

with a good touch.

Your husband is a lucky man.

My husband.

What was Frank going through?

His wife disappears without a trace,

without a word, without explanation.

Fears would prey on him.

Perhaps I was abducted.
Perhaps I was dead.

Claire?

Or perhaps, worst of all,

I had left him for another man.

Mrs. Randall?

Claire!

Mrs. Beauchamp, what's wrong?

I'm fine.

I was just thinking about my husband.

Lass.

Is he not alive?

No, actually.

He's not alive.

There. Do not cry.

No.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.

You need not be scared of me.

Nor anyone else here,

so long as I'm with ye.

When you're not with me?

Just never forget that you're English

in a place where
that's not a pretty thing to be.

Thank you. I will.

Watch yourself.

Now, you sleep a bit.

You're worn out.

Likely someone will
want to speak to you before too long.

I suppose you're right.

You must get up now! Come along!

Up with ye!

You slept the whole day.
'Tis near 5:00.

Have some hot broth for ye
by the fire.

Rouse yourself!

Thank you.

Come along.

What kind of corset is that?

It's a brassiere.

It's from France.

Good and tight.

There.

Now you're ready
to be taken to himself.

If I was going to survive,

I needed to acclimatize myself
as quickly as possible.

I knew where I was. But when?

From the clothes and weapons alone,

I knew it was most likely
the 18th century.

1743.

Scotland is definitely
part of Great Britain.

I see you've met some of my friends.

Forgive me for helping myself.

Some old comrades,

some new acquaintances,

yet to make their secrets known.

But all friends nonetheless.

I welcome ye, mistress.

My name is
Colum Ban Campbell MacKenzie,

laird of this castle.

Please.

1743,

decades before
the American Revolution.

England and France are at war again.

One of the Hanover kings
is on the throne.

But which one?

It was my understanding that
my brother and his men

found you in some apparent distress.

"Apparent?"

I was attacked and nearly raped
by one of the soldiers

of King George II.

And other than this near rape,

you suffered no further molestation?

No.

Please extend my gratitude
to your brother for his kind escort.

I will, of course,

need to arrange transport back
to Inverness as soon as possible.

I'm sure something can be arranged.

But I do myself wish to know

how exactly a lady such as yourself

came to be wandering about
in the woods,

dressed in nothing but her shift.

It's interesting. I took a course
in withstanding interrogation

as part of officer training,
and the basic principle was

that you stick to the truth
as much as humanly possible,

only altering those details
that have to be kept secret.

I am a widowed lady from Oxfordshire.

I was traveling with a manservant
to distant relatives in France,

and we were set upon by highwaymen.

While I managed to
escape the bandits,

I was forced to abandon
my horse and property.

While wandering through the woods,

I was suddenly attacked
by Captain Jack Randall.

I believe you know of him.

It was during this
unpleasant encounter

that I was relieved of my clothes.

It's true that Captain Randall
has a certain reputation.

But he is an officer. A gentleman.

And you're saying that
a man bearing the king's commission

decided to rape a stray lady traveler
he came upon in the woods

for no good reason.

Is there ever a good reason for rape,
Master MacKenzie?

I beg your forgiveness, madam.

An unfortunate turn of phrase
on my part.

Not at all.

I believe we were discussing
my transport back to Inverness.

Aye.

A tinker by the name of Sean Petrie,

he will be here Saturday next.

He stops at Leoch
on his way to Inverness once a month,

and he often has room
for one or two passengers.

Saturday next? Forgive me.

I've lost track in all the confusion.

Not at all. Five days from now.

Meanwhile...

I offer you
the hospitality of our humble home.

Thank you.

Five days.

Five days, and I would be
back on the road to Inverness,

and then back to
the stones atop Craigh na Dun,

and hopefully back home.

I did know something of this era.

The politics, the people,
their dress.

Even some of their customs
and colloquialisms were familiar.

But it was all secondhand knowledge,

acquired from books,
museums, paintings.

It was like landing on an alien world

you'd only glimpsed
through a telescope.

Aye, lads.

Well, two against one, hey?
That's not fair.

How about two against two?

Where you going?

What about you?
One-on-one, come on, Hamish.

Show us your moves.

That's it, good lad.

Very good.

Very quick.

Come on.

You wouldna kill an unarmed man.
Oh, no!

But he's not dead!

I've got ye! I've got ye!

But then you begin to wonder

if maybe life on this alien world
is not so different after all.

Allow me.

Thank you.

May I present my wife Letitia?

Letitia, Mrs. Claire Beauchamp,
an English lady of Oxfordshire.

A pleasure to meet ye.

The pleasure's mine.

I trust Mrs. Fitzgibbons
found you comfortable lodgings?

Very. She's a wonder.

The wonder is how she manages to
bake bannocks such as these

with the poor ovens
we have in the kitchens.

Why "Beauchamp"?

I beg your pardon?

I was wondering why
you call yourself Claire Beauchamp.

It's my name.

Aye, but if your family
hail from France,

would it not be
more properly Beauchamp?

Well,

the ties we have to France
are old, but not close.

At some point, I suspect an ancestor
decided to adopt the English style.

And what part of France
do your folk come from, exactly?

The relatives I have
are from the North.

Near Compiègne.

Compiègne.

I trust Mr. MacTavish
is feeling better?

Mr. MacTavish?

She means young Jamie.

Jamie? Why?

Whatever is the matter with the lad?

Naught but a scratch, my dear.

Where is he though, Dougal?

I sent him to the stables to help
Old Alec with the horses.

The stables?

Best place for him under
the circumstances.

I don't want him inside the walls.

But it's yours to choose,

if you don't agree with my orders.

I reckon he'll do well enough there.

Bring us a bottle of the Rhenish.

Now, you won't find this
in Oxfordshire.

Are ye bound for Compiègne, then?

Compiègne, yes.

It's a lovely city,
wouldn't you agree?

In truth, I wouldn't know,
having never been there myself.

First visit?

Yes.

And will you be staying with family?

Distant family.

Never met them?

No. But I look forward to it, though.

A joyous occasion, I imagine.

One can only hope.

Hello.

My name is Claire.

Go on, then. Give her your name.

Hamish.

It's a pleasure to meet you, Hamish.

I saw you playing earlier today
in the courtyard with your father.

With my father?

Yes, surely you remember, Dougal.
You were swinging him around.

I'm sorry,

I appear to have made an error.

I'm the son and heir
of Colum MacKenzie.

Indeed you are.

I'm afraid the rigors of the past few
days have been catching up with me.

If you'll excuse me,

I think I shall retire early tonight.

A good night to ye, then.

Mrs. Beauchamp.

Frank would have laughed

and said I fell for
the oldest trick in the book.

Ply the subject with food and drink,

but all the while
continuing the interrogation.

I would have to be more careful if I
were to survive the next five days.

You've missed breakfast.

Still some porridge.

Warm it for ye.

No, I...

I was thinking I should change the
bandage on Mr. MacTavish's shoulder.

Jamie.

Where would I find the stables?

Up at the meadow.

To the East.

Aye!

I'm so sorry about that.

She's just a girl with spirit is all.

That's always a good thing.

What can I do for you,
Mistress Beauchamp?

It's what I can do for you.

Some fresh bandages and some lunch.

Aye.

Quite the appetite.

I should think you'd eat grass
if there was nothing else.

I have.

Doesna taste bad,
but it's not very filling.

You've actually eaten grass?

The winter.

Year before last.

I was living rough, you know,

in the woods
wi' a group of lads, raiding cattle.

We'd had poor luck
for a week and more

and no food amongst us left.

One might ask why you were raiding
cattle and living the life of a thief

instead of tending to your own farm.

There was a price on my head.

£10. Sterling.

A farmer's whole year in these parts.

Seems excessive
for a single escaped prisoner.

No, not for escape.

For murder.

But I didn't actually
kill the man I'm wanted for.

You're a very complicated man,
Mr. MacTavish.

Nay.

Nay, it's a simple story, really.

I told you
what happened to me at Fort William.

I could hardly move for a day or two

after I'd been flogged
the second time.

And I had fever from the wounds.

Once I could stand again, though,

some friends made shift
to get me out of the camp

by means I'd best not go into.

And there was some ruckus as we left,

and a Redcoat was shot.

Not by you.

To tell ye the truth,

I was too weak to do more than
hang off the horse.

Four years ago now.

More like an old dream, but...

There it is.

I take it
your real name's not Mr. MacTavish.

No.

No, it's not.

A nom de guerre, as it were.

Aye. If you like.

You know,
it's valuable information, that.

You know,

I doubt there are informers
in the castle itself,

but, you know, there might be
some about the countryside

be glad enough to earn a few pennies

by letting the English know
where I was,

did they know I was a wanted man.

Does Colum know?

That I'm an outlaw?

Aye.

Aye, Colum knows.

And Dougal.

But they're uncles
on my mother's side.

Now I know.

Why did you tell me?

You asked.

That's no answer.

You could have lied, or told me
it was none of my business.

Well, I suppose I could have.

Didn't think Of that.

Decided to trust ye instead.

Are you done stuffing your face
while the horses run wild?

And when will that colt be broken?

None the sooner
for starving myself.

I best be returning to work.

Thank you for the food and the...

Just try not to
get flogged or stabbed today.

That'll be thanks enough.

No promises, Sassenach.

Are you following me?

You are. Why?

You could at least
do me the courtesy of an answer.

- Did Colum tell you to follow me?
- Nah.

Dougal, then?

Ken, for a woman, you do
ask a fair amount of questions.

So I've been told.

Well, I have nae answers for ye.

I am but Dougal's eyes, not his head.

But let me warn ye, mistress.

These eyes won't be
turning their gaze from ye

until the head orders me to.

It could be worse.

I'll be sharing guard duty
with Angus,

and you'll not be finding him
as charming as myself.

He's in his cups
more than out of them,

a fornicator of women,

and a shagger of wee beasties
when there's no women to be found.

So I suggest you enjoy me
while ye can,

because you'll be yelling for me
when you feel the foul breath

of that mad bastard
on the back of your neck.

Lovely.

Lucky for you he prefers
female creatures

with the tang of the farmyard
about them.

Then I'll remember
to bathe regularly.

He wouldna ken what to make of that.

Well, clearly,
you suspect me of something,

or you wouldn't
have people watching me.

Perhaps you'd be so kind as to
give me a notion of your suspicions,

or is that too much to...

I suspect you may be an English spy.

A spy? Me?

Ye have no told the truth
about who and what you are.

Of that I'm sure.

And until I am sure of ye,
I'll have you watched day and night.

- Now you ken my mind.
- Very well.

But I think you'll find

I'll be doing very little of interest
over the next four days.

I do hope your spies
give you a full report.

Four days?

Yes.

I leave with Mr. Petrie on Saturday.

Forgive me.

I would've thought your brother
would have told you that.

Perhaps you don't "ken" his mind.

For the next few days,

I determined
to maintain a simple routine,

both, to keep my mind occupied
while I awaited the tinker's arrival

and to give Dougal's men nothing
of the slightest interest to report.

Mrs. Fitz put me to work
helping harvest food for the kitchen.

I found a quiet sense of pleasure
in touching growing things once more,

felt the satisfaction
of helping them thrive.

Those kind are poison.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh.

I imagine it was funny
from over there.

Thanks for the warning, though,

but I do know
those mushrooms are poisonous.

Who is it
you're planning to do away with?

Your husband, perhaps?

Tell me if it works,
and I'll try it on mine.

Actually,

now, while the caps of
these mushrooms are poisonous,

you can make a powder
out of the dried fungi.

It's very effective in stopping
bleeding when applied topically.

Fancy that.

My name is Geillis. Geillis Duncan.

I'm sorry,
I should have introduced myself.

- My name is...
- I know who you are, Claire.

The village has been humming
with talk of ye

since you came to the castle.

What is it they're saying about me?

That you're likely a Sassenach spy.

You know, those will start bleeding

to get rid of a child you don't want.

Brings on your flux.

But only if you use it early.

Too late, and it can kill you
as well as the child.

The girls in the village come to me
every now and again for such things.

They say I'm a witch.

Are you?

Hardly.

Although I am aware of

how wood betony
can transform toads into pigeons.

You should come visit me sometime
down in the village.

I have a cabinet
full of potions and medicinals

I wager would tickle yer fancy.

But I hope
I'll see you tonight at the hall.

The hall?

After a week's observation

I diagnosed Colum's condition
as Toulouse-Lautrec syndrome.

Named for its most famous sufferer,

who did not yet exist,
I reminded myself,

it was a degenerative disease
of bone and connective tissue.

Lautrec died at 38,

and given the state of medicine
in the 18th century,

Colum MacKenzie was most certainly
living on borrowed time.

Masters William Talbot
and Fingal Duncan,

will ye stand forth?

They're neighbors.

Having a dispute over a cow.

A cow?

He says...

Well, let me see.

It's all right.

I have the feeling something
would be lost in translation.

Kyle Ferguson,
step forward and present yourself.

They're fighting over some property.

Her father accuses her
of loose behavior.

Her father wishes the MacKenzie to
have her punished for disobedience.

No.

He's offering to
take the girl's punishment.

What?

But he's still injured.

They're arguing it now.

He allows it.

He chooses fists.

Fists?

Rather than the strap.

If ye'd wanted a beating,
I'd been happy to oblige ye.

Aye, but you might have done
some real damage.

Watch yourself, laddie.
Your uncle is up to something.

How long must this go on for?

Only until bloods drawn.

Usually when their nose is broken.

This is barbarous.

Claire, stay here.

This way is quicker,
and you'll stir less gossip.

Here.

Why did you do that?

Take that girl's punishment?

Do you know her?

Ken who she is.

Haven't really spoken to her, though.

Then why?

It would have shamed the mass

to have been beaten in the hall
before everyone that knows her.

Taken a long time to get over it.

It's easier for me.

I'm sore, but I'm nae really damaged.

I'll get over it in a couple days.

Here ye are, lad.

Rinse your mouth with this.

It'll cleanse the cuts
and ease the pain.

Willow bark tea.

Bit of ground orris root.

Ground up well.

Top of life.

What ye did was kindly meant, lad.

Laoghaire is my granddaughter,
ye ken?

Take that bandage off your shoulder
in the next two days.

Would it not be easier
if you did that?

Yes, but I'll be gone.

I'm leaving with Mr. Petrie tomorrow.

I see.

Well...

Then perhaps this is good-bye.

Yes.

I think someone
would like to speak with you alone.

Aye.

Well, goodbye to you, then, Jamie.

Safe journeys to ye, Claire.

The bannocks
should last a day or two,

and the cheese will keep for a week.

You've been too kind,
Mrs. Fitzgibbons.

- I can't thank you enough.
- Think nothing o' it, lass.

Safe journey to ye.

- Colum wishes to see ye.
- Why?

It doesna matter why.

All right.

I'll be back in a minute.

Oh, come on.

Three, two, one...

Something wrong?

No.

Good day to ye, Mrs. Beauchamp.

Good day.

Ye have no connections
with clan Beaton, have ye?

The Beatons? No.

The healers of clan Beaten
are famous through the highlands.

We had one here,

until he caught a fever
which carried him off within a week.

Davie Beaton was his name.

And this was his surgery,
he called it.

Really?

All this,

and no one to share it with?

I understand you have quite
some skill as a healer yourself.

It's an interest of mine, yes.

You know the uses
of these potions and things?

Some.

This is all really fascinating.

Thank you for showing me.

But I must be going.

Seeing as we have not had a healer
since Davie passed,

I want you to take up the work.

But I'm leaving.

No. You're staying.

What did Dougal say to you?

Did one of his thugs
make up lies about me?

My brother keeps
his own counsel on you.

This is my decision.

Then why am I staying?

Because it is my pleasure
that you do so.

Because you think I'm a spy.

Surely you don't believe that.

I believe that you have secrets,
Claire.

Now, maybe they're the kind of
secrets that every woman has,

which pose no threat to me,
to Leoch, or to clan MacKenzie.

But until I know for sure,

you will remain here,

as my guest.

You mean as your prisoner, don't you?

Only if you try to leave.

Ripped By mstoll