All language subtitles for Shardlake.S01E03.1080p.WEB.H264-SuccessfulCrab

I swear I could not
believe me eyes.

Could not believe my eyes.

Here. Look. See for yourselves.

Good morning, Master Barak.

Did you sleep well?

Master Shardlake is where?

Breakfast, sir.
In the refectory.

He is fond of you.

Then he does not know me.

I must apologise. I
should not have said that.

Alice?

Brother Mark has mistaken
his bed for a pot.

Perhaps Master Barak could
help you attend to the matter.

Another time.

Brother Guy?

Can I ask?

Did you discover the reason why poor
Simon Whelplay did behave as he did?

It is of no concern, Alice.

- May I sit?
- You may.

I've been asked by the abbot to inform you
that Dr Goodhap has departed for London.

His room is empty.
His belongings gone.

When was this?

I'm told first light.

You were not told an exact time?

I was not.

The thing I like best about this
monastery is the plentiful food.

It's the fat monks
I could do without.

Dr Goodhap has left for London,
it seems. Without permission.

He has?

Says who?

His room is empty.

I take it he did not inform
either of you of his intentions?

Did anyone witness him leaving?

Bugge. The gatekeeper
and watchman.

Master Shardlake

when can I expect my
books to be returned?

When I have finished with them.

They were all in good
order, I assure you.

We shall see.

All accounts are
good and correct.

No amount of good and correct accounts
are going to save you, Brother Edwig.

You did visit Simon
Whelplay at his bed.

To say a prayer, yes. I did.

But you despised the boy.

That is not true.

W-Why pray at his bedside and
not your own? Or at the church?

It is the way of St Donatus.

I hoped he'd be able to join me.

- Which he did.
- He was awake?

Yes.

And we did pray together.

Is that all? Am I free to go?

You are.

But do not wander.

Do not overreact, Jack.

I need us both to
be clear-minded.

But there has been
another murder.

- Who?
- The novice. Simon Whelplay.

Who did fall and
crack his skull?

After ingesting a poison.

Ingesting it?

By another's hand.
Laying in the infirmary.

It's Brother Guy.

It's Guy who did discover the poison.
He could easily have kept it secret.

What puzzles me most is
why every senior brother

decided they must attend
the bedside of a novice.

A boy that they had persecuted
for weeks, months before.

If you believe there are answers
in Brother Edwig's accounts,

let us now walk to the stables
and return to the village.

We should press the
Justice Copynger.

Five days is too long.

If Singleton was onto
something, we need to act fast.

We have time yet.

Cromwell will not
see it that way.

I have been mentally compiling a
list of all anomalies and unknowns.

What, where, why.

What was the boy, Simon Whelplay,
trying to tell me through his fever?

We will never know.

Where lies the relic and the
sword? They must be somewhere.

The sword especially is key.

It's lost to the marshlands.

Why was there an absence
of bloody footprints

when Brother Guy did
enter the kitchens?

Two birds together.

The one from Peruland
and the peacock.

I shall to check on the horses.

You have barely eaten.

How can I help you, sir?

We have been taking
good care of the horses.

Sir?

What's this?

Master Bugge?

Yes.

Yeah.

You're the watchman.

The gatekeeper.

Yeah, I am. You know I am.

So tell me... ...at what
time did you open the gate

allowing Dr Goodhap to leave?

It wasn't quite first light,
but the sun was getting there.

So what time?

Is this a game, sir?

Your last chance.

You think carefully
on your answer.

My sword can hear a lie,
and it will respond.

I did open the gate for the
doctor just before 6:00.

At first light.

- That is a lie!
- It's the truth!

Look, his stallion's gone.

Master Shardlake, please!

- I swear.
- Jack, lower your sword.

This wretch is lying to me!

Master Barak, lower your sword.

Jack!

Jack, what is it?

- Speak your mind.
- We cannot fail.

And we are failing.

- That is not the case.
- They're laughing at us.

- They're all making fools of us.
- Jack.

No. I will not have Goodhap
and his kind crowing.

Jack. We are close. Believe me.

What if God is with
them after all?

No.

No. Listen to yourself.

Listen to what you are saying.

We are close.

This is how an
investigation does form.

I cannot go back to what I was.

I will not go back.

When will you accept that
we must find our own truth?

Jack.

We have stirred the waters, and
the answers are there. Swirling.

We are close, Jack!

Just something I made, sir.

Do you wish to know
what I'm doing?

I'm following Simon
Whelplay's instruction.

I'm looking exactly where
he wanted me to look.

Its waters are deep enough and
dark enough to be used as a chest.

Temporary or otherwise.

You, Jack Barak, shall
now search that chest.

- Oh, I shall search it?
- Yes. You.

You should undo your
boots and whatnot.

W-Why me?

Because I am prone to a chill.

And, regrettably,
you are taller.

I shall hold the pole.

Oh.

Well, how deep is it?

It is a pond. Not
a lake. Not a sea.

But how deep is it in the middle? Where
an item is more likely to be tossed.

It is a pond.

- Do you swim?
- Not in the depth of winter.

Shall we wait for spring?

It might be my imagination,
but I swear I saw something.

Something bright possibly. If
only the sun would catch it.

Master Barak?

What is it you are doing?

Master Barak is about
to search the pond.

You should keep your boots
on your feet, Master Barak.

Objects found in that pond over the years
have been many and varied, I'm sure.

Ignore him. Your feet
must become your hands.

And there are carp.

Ooh.

For balance.

Feel with your feet.

My feet are sinking
into the silt.

Must be six inches.

It's deeper than I thought.

The item I thought I saw must
be close. Tread carefully.

Can you feel it?

I cannot.

Wait.

Wait, wait, there
could be something.

Do you dare to go under?

Whatever he has found, the
silt will not let it go.

By Jesu, it's the sword.

It must be.

Good find.

Well done, Jack
Barak. Well done.

We have a breakthrough.

Outsiders, indeed.

Would an outsider have
left his sword behind him?

He would not.

Never.

It's an important find.

As Mortimus of
Kelso will be aware.

It's my robe.

It carries the sacrist's
badge. It's... It's mine.

I left it with the
launderer to be cleaned.

It was never returned.

I thought it to be stolen.
For-For-For winter warmth.

You left it to be
laundered when?

It was the day that
Master Singleton arrived.

The sword I have never seen.

I've never so much as held
a sword in my entire life.

Not even as a boy.

We would make do with sticks.

Take hold of it now.

Go on.

Ooh.

It's heavy?

One hand, yes.

Two hands, it's easier.

It's an odd sensation.

Now show us how you took
off Master Singleton's head.

You are capable.

You have the strength
the murderer did require.

That I cannot change.

The novice, Simon Whelplay.

He knew the pond held a secret.

Wh... How is that possible?

Could he be the
murderer I am seeking?

Simon? Never.

I say that without
hesitation. Never.

Not even a reluctant killer,
executing the orders of another?

No. No. He would not. Could not.

He did not have the strength.

More than that, he was
a boy with a good heart.

He was capable of love.

And yet I only looked to the
pond because he sent me there.

I can only conclude that
he knew what was hidden.

I am not investigating
the deeds of outsiders.

You must see this
now. You know this.

Is there anything more you know?

Help me.

Lord Cromwell shall hear of it.

There's nothing
more I can tell you.

Drain the pond, he says.
Like it's a simple feat.

Please tell me Master Bugge did not
drop Dr Goodhap into the waters.

- He did not.
- Thank the Lord.

The good doctor is at
peace in the marshlands.

I did say a prayer for his soul.

I cannot help but
wonder who did slay him.

Who?

Who amongst us?

Abbot, we must persevere.

- We are not done yet.
- Not yet.

He has found the sword.

He has found a sword.

Which could have been lying
in the silt for many years.

And that is what we must claim.

'Tis a sword from nowhere.
Its owner unknown.

He will find something more.

Thomas Cromwell demands it.

There can be no surrender.

What else is there for
us besides St Donatus?

A warming drink for you.

Thank you.

That's gold upon the handle?

It is. It's a handsome piece.

Impressive.

It's a gentleman's sword.

Unlike my own.

How could it have ended
up in a monastery?

Why are you not married?

Why do you believe it's
your business to know?

It's not my business,
but it is a puzzle.

I was to marry.

But he died.

Suddenly. And without warning.

And soon after, my mother
succumbed to her own illness.

And that's when I came here.

Where I'm surrounded by monks.

I do not wish to marry a monk.

Why are you not married?

That is a puzzle.

Handsome pup like myself.

The truth?

Yes.

I'm an impostor.

I call myself an
emissary of the king.

Cromwell's man.

I dress in what I consider
to be fine clothes,

but I'm always a
breath away from rags.

A wife, therefore, is
out of the question.

Until when?

Until I have the money saved.

Until I find someone
I cannot do without.

It's an interesting and
admirable truth, Master Barak.

Jack.

I've met fine and honest people who've
had no choice but to dress in rags.

As well as liars and
cowards cloaked in finery.

Same.

My lady.

My lady.

We shall soon need torches, Brother
Mortimus. I shall see to it.

Do that.

Didn't I just say that I would?

It is a fine sword.

Well balanced.

Made by a craftsman, most
definitely, who would leave his mark.

- Which he did.
- So he did.

"JS 1507."

Hmm. And an effigy.

Four pointed towers.

Is this the sword that
killed Robin Singleton?

- It must be.
- Without a doubt.

An important find.

And something Goodhap will
not know and cannot tell.

You did well.

How are you feeling?

Drier.

Warmer.

You have not been your
annoying, cocksure self today.

Why's that?

I must be missing the stench
of London. Nothing more.

The draining of the pond,
it'll take how long?

Some hours yet.

What about the poor fish?

There are buckets.
And bellies.

And what is it you're
hoping to find?

Is it the relic?

No. I am hoping to
not find the relic.

See, the brethren of St Donatus
would cast a sword into the water,

but the hand of
the Penitent Thief?

Never.

We will find whatever it is Simon
Whelplay intends for us to find.

Sword may be all there is.

I salute your cleverness,
Master Shardlake.

And sadly there are times I
would exchange such cleverness

for the ability to
wear a fancy codpiece.

Your supper, Lord Abbot.

I shall leave it on the table.

Have I not treated
you well, Alice?

You have, sir, yes.

Have I not dealt with
the would-be molesters?

You have.

I have.

It is my duty.

Should you be asked, please
tell that to the crook back.

Yes, sir.

Stop now. Stop the work.

There. There is
something there. A form.

Bring me a bucket
of clear water.

And a torch.

Give me some light here.

This is a woman's necklace.

Fetch Brother Guy.
And a stretcher.

We remove this poor creature
carefully and respectfully.

The senior brethren are here.

Step inside, please.

Close the door.

She was the first.

This pendant would have
been given as a gift.

Representing love.

From a mother, father, swain.

And worn with pride
because she was loved.

She had value.

This death has angered me.

As long as it does
not distract you.

I have examined
the body carefully.

From the height, size, the
length of the remaining hair,

and from the chain found around her
neck, it can only be my former assistant.

The girl named
Orphan Stonegarden.

Each of you knew this
poor girl, of course.

She was a thief, sir.

And this was her punishment?

Not at all. She must have
stumbled and fell, or some such.

Perhaps it was the stones in her
pockets that did cause her to stumble.

It was thought she had stolen
two golden chalices and fled.

They were of some value
and remain missing.

Brother Guy, can you remind
us of the cause of her death?

Her neck is broken.

She was murdered, weighted, tossed
in the water, and forgotten.

Within this house of God.

God's punishment perhaps.

How dare you!

Is it not enough for
you that she is dead?

Must you continue to trail
her through the dirt?

I beg your pardon, sir. It
was thought she was a thief.

This discovery pains
me as much as any man.

So what of these golden chalices
that she did steal? Where are they?

They are not in the fish pond.
They are not in her pockets.

If these objects remain missing,

it is the man who killed
her who is the thief.

And I shall tell you all now. There
are three murders to consider.

Three?

There is Robin Singleton, Orphan
Stonegarden and Simon Whelplay.

The novice fell. People saw it.

The novice was poisoned.

- He fell.
- Brother Guy?

It is true. Belladonna
was found in his gut.

The boy fell, and the boy
died. That is what happened.

Well, before he died, he
dared to tell me a secret.

What secret is this?

We are looking at her.

Simon knew where she lay.

He told me he warned her of danger.
Those were his exact words. He knew.

It is my summation that whoever killed
this girl did also kill Simon Whelplay.

Preposterous.

Lord Abbot Fabian,

I hereby invite you to surrender
the Monastery of St Donatus,

its land, and its entire wealth
to the Crown of King Henry.

In return, all brethren shall
receive their due pension in full.

Master Shardlake, a
pension is a meal a day.

And my work will be done.

Bodies shall be buried.

I cannot disagree with you about
this poor wretch being murdered.

She lies here before us.

I remember her as a
pleasant and pretty girl.

But many men did come in the
time she was here. Many men.

Monks, travellers,
servants, tradesmen.

You cannot say with any certainty that we,
St Donatus, are responsible for her death.

Nor can you say it was a poison
that did kill Simon Whelplay

when you yourself
witnessed his fall.

And his death did
follow that fall.

What was the cause of
death, Brother Guy?

A-A broken neck, my Lord Abbot.

Which leaves us with the
murder of Robin Singleton

to which I say again,
we are innocent.

- There are no swords kept in this house.
- We have found a sword.

Belonging to whom?

You do not know.

Abbot Fabian, do you voluntarily
surrender to King Henry

the lands and wealth
of St Donatus?

I do not.

And you cannot force closure.

Nor have I any good reason
to surrender closure.

Then my investigation
shall continue.

And I promise you, all
of you, men shall hang.

Master Shardlake, I would
wish to speak with you.

In private.

In private, Brother Gabriel?

We are brethren, you
can speak freely now.

Thank you, Abbot. But I
would prefer greater privacy.

This is a confession
I must make.

This girl, Orphan, she
arrived some years ago.

She did her work well,
but she was never happy.

Why was she never happy?

She was bothered. Continually.

Women, they tempt men. As
Adam was tempted by Eve.

And who exactly did
bother this young girl?

I will need names.

I will not do that.

Several monks were named as molesters,
both senior and less senior.

The abbot warned each of them.

Sternly.

And his words had effect?

Yes. He is the abbot.

I'm telling you this because
temptation is one thing,

and to molest a certain
wrong, but to kill?

Murder?

I cannot believe any
of my brethren capable.

And yet she is dead.

Imagine the terror. The
fear she must have endured.

I am to blame as
much as any man.

For I did nothing.

I stood by in silence whilst
knowing she lived a life of misery.

This is not what you promised.

Did promise?

A confession you said.

Help her now.

What do you know?

I know she did speak
often with Simon.

I can believe he
would watch for her.

It is therefore possible he
might know who killed her.

It's possible that knowledge
did cost him his life.

Then you agree it can only be someone
from within and still present.

This is why I struggle.

To reconcile the act of murder
with one of my brethren.

What twisted and broken
soul in search of his God...

Help! Somebody help me!

Help!

I must return to London.

You must return.

You shall remain here and
await news of the land sales.

Hell's teeth, you foolish man.

We cannot move for the dead, and
yet you harp on about land sales.

I do.

They remain our best and possibly
only chance of success and closure.

The order of St Donatus must be
proven to be guilty of doing wrong.

Who was the intended target,
you or Brother Gabriel?

I have no idea.

Well, what did he tell you?

He reaffirmed his faith in St
Donatus, monasteries, and monks.

And was then silenced before
another word was spoken.

And now you must
return to London. Why?

I should find the owner of the sword, and
to do that, I must return to the city.

Whilst I sit here awaiting
news of land sales.

It's not the most exciting
task, but it is important.

Lands are being sold,
monies gathered, but why?

I am hopeful.

Is that Jerome's
writings you're holding?

- It is.
- I did advise you to burn it.

It paints a poor picture
of Lord Cromwell.

It is treacherous even.

It's not safe to hold that. It's not
safe to even admit it was ever written.

Do you believe it's true?

I do not.

I do not know of its existence.

He will be here by now, Cromwell's
lawyer. He was seen on the road.

He must not see these remaining
receipts for the full five days.

- As agreed.
- I shall keep one and one only.

He will not complain.

Thank you, sir.

Arranging passage will not be a
problem, sir. Consider it done.

She sails with the tide
just over an hour from now.

You'll be in London
in half the time.

Excellent. Thank you.

- It'll be my pleasure.
- And the receipts for the land sales?

Will be here soon as promised.
Of that, I am certain.

Do you know somewhere in
town I can stable my horse?

There are good stalls at
the rear of the church.

He will be well taken care of.

- Uh, she is a mare. Chancery.
- Ah.

I shall see to it myself.

- A good evening to you, Master Copynger.
- And to you, sir.

I shall be gone for a
matter of days, my girl.

You shall be well fed.

Be certain of that.

And not once do you complain.

Not once have you
ever let me down.

You shall have company.

This charming stallion.

I have seen you
before, have I not?

You're Goodhap's mount.

Then where is your master?

Brother Guy's at prayer still.

And will be for some time, yes.

Master Shardlake's taken himself
away to London for a few days.

Why's that? Can you say?

To identify the
owner of the sword.

So, you see, Alice,
I'm all alone.

We're all alone.

Yesterday I said that
he was fond of you.

Master Shardlake.

You did.

Even if that were true,

puzzled as to why you'd
betray his feelings.

Because they are my feelings.

This monastery will
close. It must.

I worry what will happen to you.

Where will you go?

- You worry for me?
- Yes.

I am fond of you

more.

Are your feelings true, sir,
or are you simply alone?

I say they are true.

What do you say?

I say you should
close your door.

How is it?

Oh, I am grateful for
it, Master Copper.

- It's lacking meat.
- Yes, and flavour.

We'll sail through the
night, but we shall land you

right in the stinking
heart of London.

How many passengers have you had
these past weeks, Master Copper?

I've not had a passenger
in months, sir.

And tonight, as you can
now see, I have two.

Master Shardlake,
this is Master Crowe.

- Pleasure, Master Shardlake.
- Likewise.

In addition, I was asked to
carry a horse this very journey.

Declined. The beast
would've been distressed.

Quite.

He would've been shitting and
pissing all over my decks.

- You declined.
- I did.

You were asked to carry only a
horse? No rider? For what purpose?

Sell, sir. Told the old
abbey-lubber to do his own selling.

The horse belonged to a
person of the monastery?

"Belonged", you say.

- That is one explanation.
- Master Copper!

If you will excuse me.

You had business in Scarnsea?

I did not. I have
business in London.

Private business.

Of course.

I don't know why I'm eating
this. I know I shall lose it.

A sailor, I am not.